-Archangel, July 13, C.E. 71, 0830.
Colonel Namora walked through the corridors of the Archangel dressed in his khaki uniform, hands thrust into the pockets of his brown leather jacket, hair still damp from the shower he'd taken just about an hour ago. His friend and fellow officer, Sergeant Richards strolled behind and to his left, wearing the same uniform except with a different rank insignia on his jacket. Together, they had planned this mission to the extreme, with John training the pilots and perfecting the data for the mission, and Jack working the planes and equipment to suffice the journey from the Archangel, across the ocean to Cuba, and across the Caribbean to Colombia, where the planes' journey would end. Twenty years together now commenced on the success of this mission, which both of them would vault into the history books on.
John had awoken early this morning, to check on the status of everything going on inside the ship, speaking with Captain Ramius on the bridge just about ten minutes before, regarding the ship's course and any difficulties that had surfaced during the long night. Now, he marched toward the quarters where his pilots now lived on the ship. John had promised himself to greet every one of them this morning before they left this afternoon. He would meet with Mwu, Hugh, and Frank later on this morning, but now he wanted to chat with the lesser ranking men in his squadron. He hadn't had much time to speak with them in the last few days, so he wanted his men to know that he was still behind them, one hundred percent.
The door to the long string of pilot's quarters was a brown hickory wood with a brass door-knob, polished to perfection, Lieutenant Badgiruel's doing no doubt. John had come to respect everyone of this ship's standard crew for their unrelenting support for not only himself, but all seventy-nine other men in his squadron. Forced to house all of these newcomers in the limited number of quarters that were available on the ship, many crew members had vacated their own sleeping quarters so that the squadron's people would be well rested and made welcome. Captain Ramius had made sure that the mess hall and adjoining bar were well stocked with food and water, syphoning off supplies from other areas of the ship to meet the increased demands of the men. John had personally thanked her earlier, though she dismissed it as no big deal. Yeah right, John thought happily to himself, she's probably kicking herself for doin' that. Nobody's been able to shower around here for almost a day...poor girl...
Just as John was about to turn the knob and enter the quarters, Richards spoke up from behind him. "Colonel, I uh...have other business to attend to right now...monitoring the planes...checking the gauges..."
"Go on ahead Jack," John chuckled. Jack was persistent on having everything go right on this mission and John had to respect him for that. "I think I can manage this on my own."
With that said, Richards departed, heading down the corridor toward the hangar, while John opened the door to the quarters and stepped inside the first one. Situated in the middle of a set of bunks, were about seven of his men, including Kira, Athrun, and Sai, engaged in a fierce game of cards that John didn't recognize. The squeak of the door's hinges alerted the men to his presence and they turned toward him.
"Colonel Namora, sir," Kira said, "To what do we owe the honor?"
"At ease, Kira, I'm just here to see how my pilots and crews are doing." John moved behind Sai and stared down at the game. Texas Hold'em, he identified the game as, and right now the pot was a huge one. The only ones still in were Sai and Jake. It was apparently Sai's move, because he threw in the rest of his cash to the pot, which made it in John's estimation almost one hundred and fifty bucks. Jake's expression didn't change much, trying to decipher whether or not Sai had a good hand or he was just bluffing. Finally, after an extensive period of time, Jake threw in his cards and Sai took home the pot, raking the money in with his hands, while everyone else murmured amongst themselves at whether or not Sai had been bluffing or not.
"You guys are allowed to gamble on board?" John wondered out loud.
"No!" Athrun stated. "We're not, so don't let the Captain or the Combat Commander know please. We've already been to much of a burden on them already."
"No we haven't," Jake responded. "I haven't heard either of them complaining so what do they care," he added with a dismissal wave.
"Not showing the hand, Argyle?" John remarked.
"It wouldn't be fair to the others," Sai responded, still counting his newly won money. "I really don't see the point to it anyway. Don't want any of you angry at me do I?"
"Yeah, I'd say so," John chuckled. "Still can't figure out how you won with a two, seven off-suit."
"Awww! Sai!" Everyone seemed to utter that at once and a barrage of fists smashed down on the smiling Sai. Best bluff I've ever seen... John thought. It was hard to believe that Sai was able to do this, but since he was a nose gunner, and they had to be the most resourceful of all the people on the planes, since they were the ones who dropped the bombs, John dismissed it as an acquired trait.
"Guys, knock it off..." John tried to persuade the group, which eventually halted the onslaught, instead laughing amongst themselves. "I tell you what, when we get back, we all get a free round. Sai's buying." That brought forth a cycle of cheers from everyone, even Sai. With a smile on his face, John moved to the adjacent door and walked into the next quarters.
These quarters belonged to the men whose rank was higher than the others, but still weren't considered officers. The Barrington twins, Stevy and Niada, were reclining on their respective bunks, while Jay Haas sat at an end table, working on his lab-top. A guitar sat in Stevy's grasp, his fingers playing the notes of a song John had come to recognize as a tradition for the young man(Money Talks, by AC/DC). His long brown hair hung loose down to about his neck and his bowler hat sat on the bunk post. Ever since John had known Stevy, he'd been wearing that hat. Even when he was piloting something in the Earth Forces Army, where he had served before coming here, he'd been wearing that hat.
Noticing John's figure standing in the doorway, Stevy ceased playing and laid his guitar out on the bunk. He turned to John and said, "Morning sir. How goes everything?"
"Just fine Stevy, thank you. I wanted to thank you guys personally." John said.
"For what, sir?" Jay asked curiously.
"For not doing anything stupid while we're here," John chuckled. "I mean, I sort of anticipated that you three would do something stupid, but in the end, I guess it was all just false cause."
"Colonel," Stevy began, "we're 25 years old respectively. We've gotten past that kind of behavior. You won't have anything like that coming from us again...unless duty calls for it," he added with a cocky grin spreading across his face.
"Yes, sir," Niada added, getting up from his bunk, "you've taught us morals and other things. We'll never be like we were at the academy...that's Donnie, Jake, and Mike's jobs now, anyway." That drew laughs from all four men, even John. He had to admit, they were right. Although they had been troublemakers at Sheldon, since joining the military officially, Stevy, Niada, and Jay had shown signs of seriousness that John had never seen in them. To them, he believed, duty was more important than fun, especially during war, and John had to admire them for making that decision.
"Thanks, guys," John said, "I really appreci-."
"Colonel Namora! Please come to the bridge at once! Colonel Namora!"
Speak of the devil...John thought as he sprinted out the door, leaving his men behind him, heading for the elevator to the bridge. He entered it at a dead run, activating the lift as soon as he entered, and began his rise to the command bridge. John paced slightly inside the elevator as it rose. Geez, please don't tell me something's happened...I've risked too much on this mission, and these men...
With a soft ping, the elevator doors opened and John stepped out, running toward the bridge doors, and punching in his I.D. The doors receded and John entered the bridge.
"What's the matter?" he said as he approached the Captain's chair.
"Yeah, the alarms have been going off all around here," a voice said from behind him. John turned his head to see Mwu and Frank approaching from behind him, dressed in their khaki uniforms and brown leather jackets.
"ZAFT transmissions coming from port," Tonomura shouted from his station. "It's a ship!"
"Cut the engines!" Murrue shouted. "Everyone be quiet!"
"Shut everything down that makes noise!" Natarle added just as loud from her chair.
In a matter of seconds, the entire battleship was silent, engines shut off, and electronic devices deactivated. No one on the bridge said or uttered a word and sat in silence awaiting to see what would happen. On the view screen on the front viewport, they could see the layout of the approaching ship from one of the camera's on the ship's outer hull. It was a small patrol ship, with ZAFT insignias all over the bridge. Right now it was on a course that would take it past the Archangel, but it still could be close enough to detect the ship.
John glanced around the bridge and saw everyone was tense in the silence. Mwu and Frank both had stern looks on their faces and stood perfectly still, afraid that the slightest movements would cause the ZAFT ship to see them. Captain Ramius gripped the arm-rests of her chair tightly, also concerned that the mission had been compromised. Lieutenant Badgiruel looked mightily pissed off that they had been spotted and she hadn't caught it. John had to feel some sympathy for the woman, who had tried so hard to protect the squadron on their way to Cuba. Hell, everyone here had practically given their all in order for this mission to succeed.
Tonomura listened intently to his radio, trying to tell whether or not the ZAFT vessel had discovered them. His breathing was slow and deep, trying to stay as silent as possible. The ship had continued on its previous course, and now was heading steadily away from the Archangel. Finally, after what seemed like an alternity, Tonomura gestured with his hands, signaling an all clear.
Everyone on the bridge breathed a sigh of relief at the close encounter. "Enemy vessel leaving our ship's area," Chandra murmured, still trying to keep quiet, "It doesn't appear to have seen us."
"How sure are you?" John uttered.
"We can't be exactly sure because Intelligence hasn't cracked their codes yet," Natarle said standing up, "It's not really safe to say that they haven't seen us and called in our location..." she drifted off knowing what that would mean for the ship and the bombers.
"We really can't take that chance anyway..." John said, approaching the front of the bridge, staring out into the vast ocean where the enemy ship had been just moments before. The engines still hadn't been fired yet and the Archangel was still running on silent propulsion. Moving up to Neumann's seat, John continued, "How far are we from the Cuban coast?"
Neumann punched up his counsel and brought up the map with the Archangel's current location. "972 miles, sir..." John swore to himself. He continued to stare out into the ocean a million thoughts buzzing through his already troubled mind. If he ordered launch now, it would put he and his men on a near suicide mission, meaning they'd run out of gas before they even reached Colombia. But if he continued to the designated point, the ZAFT vessel could radio their position and the mission would be all for naught.
Activating his radio, John called up his executive officer and waited until he heard Jack's voice on the other end. "Jack..." John looked around to see every eye on the bridge trained on him. "Can we make it Colombia from here?"
Gasps escaped from several members of the bridge crew including Captain Ramius. "Colonel...you can't think..."
"Like I said, we may not have a choice," John responded, waiting for Jack's response.
Over the radio, John could hear Jack going over the numbers from the plane's fuel mileage and their current location. He heard Jack inhale sharply through his teeth, meaning that something hadn't gone well. "I don't know John..."
"What do you mean you don't know?" John said impatiently.
"I mean, I don't know!" Jack shouted back. "It's too damn close to call John,"
Damn...John said to himself. "What do you wanna do John?" Mwu asked from behind him.
"Colonel, we can still get you there," Captain Ramius said from her chair, "The ship can fight for herself, the more important thing is that we get you to Cuba safely."
"I know, but I'm still not gonna risk this ship and your crew, Captain." John responded.
"But Colonel, think of the consequences if you-," Murrue tried to finish, but was stopped suddenly as John slammed his fist against a side panel of the bridge bulkhead.
"I said, I'm not risking this ship!" Thoughts buzzed through John's mind. Everything rode on his next decision. He weighed the options in his mind over and over again. It finally came down to what was worth losing more. The squadron, or the ship. That was obvious to him. "Now..." he said slowly, his voice rising. "We launch now!"
Captain Ramius' disdain showed in her expression, but she nodded over to Lieutenant Badgiruel who activated the intercom, ordering battle stations and all pilots to man their planes. John took a deep breath and sauntered over to where Captain Ramius now stood.
"Good luck, sir," she said, saluting.
"You too," he responded, saluting back. With that, John left the bridge and headed toward the elevator. The mission he'd been planning and awaiting for had finally begun...
-Archangel, 0900.
Murrue walked briskly around the bridge, giving orders to individuals at their respective stations. She didn't really want to have to do this to the men she had taken aboard her ship and flown halfway across the Atlantic, but she really didn't have a choice. Once again, a senior officer had given her an order she really didn't want to follow, but once again, she had no choice.
She turned back to where Frank and Mwu stood talking to someone over their respective radios. "Yeah, we're heading out now Hugh..." Mwu said, "No it's no bull, he just ordered it...alright, get everybody down there, we'll be down in a minute. Oh, and make sure that everything's set down there when we get there alright...see ya there. Come on Frank, let's go."
"Right..." Frank said as he shut off his radio. He turned back to where Murrue was silently approaching the two of them. He could see in his sister's eyes the worry she was now going through. He walked up to her and put his arms around her, hugging her fiercely.
"Be careful..." she whispered.
"You too..." he returned back.
Mwu looked over and saw Natarle walk up to where the three stood. Unlike the old Natarle who would have rudely interrupted the two siblings, she just stood there and watched them, a pained look in her eyes, probably wondering where her own family was right now. Frank released Murrue and turned to where Natarle stood, outstretching his arm. "Lieutenant..." he said. Natarle extended her own arm and caught Frank's in a firm handshake. "Take care Commander..." she said uneasily, probably the first time she had ever said that. "Same to you..." Frank responded.
Murrue walked up to Mwu while the other two shook hands and said, "Well...here we go again..."
"Yeah...hopefully this time, we won't end up like Alaska," he responded, trying to lighten the mood. She walked up to him and the two embraced lightly, arms encircling one another, in their respective minds, wishing it could never end. He breathed in her antagonizing scent for what could be the last time. She still smelled of the beautiful flowers she had the first day he'd met her. Reluctently, the two released each other and Mwu called out to Frank, "Let's go Frank!" Frank turned away from Natarle and said one final goodbye to his sister before heading out the bridge following close behind Mwu.
Murrue could feel the tears begin to well up in her eyes, but once again she held them back. A thought came back to her mind. Something she hoped she would never remember again. I'll come back for you sis...I promise...I won't leave you, I'll come back for you someday...I won't forget...I promise...Frank had said those words to her many years ago, and she hoped those times would never come back to her. She looked over to where Natarle was standing and was surprised to see her counterpart's eyes trained on the ground, showing a feeling of pain. That surprised Murrue and told her that Natarle really had changed for the better since Alaska. When she noticed Murrue staring at her, Natarle snapped out of her gaze and said, "Captain...shall we see them off...?"
"Yes," Murrue responded, moving toward the elevator. "We will this time..."
-Archangel, 0910.
The hangar was full of noise. Hangar crews hustled along the deck carrying supplies and ammunition to the awaiting planes. Pilots and crews scrambled out from the adjoining corridors, all donning their flight gear, many choosing to wear the khaki uniforms they had been given at the start of training. Some had bands of ammunition slung over their shoulders, others were hauling flight equipment across the deck, every person was in a constant hurry, knowing that this was their only opportunity to get this done.
John hustled out onto the deck, wrapping a wool scarf around his neck. As soon as he stepped foot onto the deck, Jack came running up to him screaming into his ear, "Colonel! We're too far out to make it! These planes need more fuel, but if they're too heavy they might not get off the deck!"
Crap...John thought. His co-pilot Michael Lloyd ran up to him and John took him by the shoulders. "Listen, Mike! I want you to strip everything out of this plane we don't need and I mean now!" Mike nodded an affirmative and hustled toward where their plane rested, John following in pursuit. Jack ran up to where several of the hangar crew were standing and yelled, "Add ten more cans of fuel, for each plane! Every plane!" The crews scurried off, gathering 10-gallon fuel cans in their arms and dragging them across the deck to the awaiting planes.
After that, Jack ran up to where one of the lead bombers waited. He shouted up through the hatch to one of its crew. "Marsden! Loose those suitcases and get rid of that tail-gun!"
"What?" the man replied, shocked.
"You wanna get off this deck, you gimme' one of those guns now! It's too heavy!"
"What'll we do about the anti-aircraft guns, sir?" the man shouted back.
Jack raised his voice as she snapped back at the man. "Worry about that later! You're not even going to make Cuba if you're too heavy! Gimme' that gun now!" Without another word, the man removed the thirty-calibar machine gun from its slot and passed it down to Jack, who handed it to another man who had come up. "Listen, spread the word to every plane. Rip the tail-guns out of all of them! They'll be too heavy with them, so get rid of 'em now!" After that man ran off, Jack turned to another and said, "Hey! Head down to the mess hall, get some broomsticks, cut 'em down, paint 'em black and bring 'em here, alright!" the man nodded an affirmative and hurried off. Jack could barely hold back a smirk.
Minutes later, hangar crews were hacking off ends of quickly painted broomsticks, attempting to shape them as best they could in the forms of tail-guns. They didn't look all too convincing to Athrun and he proceeded to pick up two of them and headed toward where Kira was approaching.
"We've got broomsticks for tail-guns!" he shouted.
"Yeah, I know...maybe it'll scare 'em" Kira returned hopefully.
"Scare 'em," Dearka added, coming from the side, a broomstick slung over his own shoulder, "Heh...we'll be lucky if they even run from us."
"Yeah..." Athrun replied. He reached out and shook Kira's hand. "You take care of yourself up there..."
"Yeah...you too," Kira answered. Then he added darkly, "Hope no one you know is there."
"Yeah...thanks. Take care, Kira." Athrun , heading off to where his plane was. Kira turned to where his was across the hangar but heard another voice from behind him.
"Kira!" Dearka shouted, "Show us that same spirit you had when you kicked our asses in the Strike!"
Kira smiled uneasily back at him just to appear to be enthusiastic, though inside he was literally tearing himself apart with worry over what he was about to. He was about to return to battle for the first time in almost three months. What would happen? What would he do? Would he actually be able to go back into combat again? All these thoughts clouded Kira's brain as he sprinted off to his plane. As he ran, he caught a glimpse of Mwu, Hugh, and Frank saying their goodbyes to one another. Mwu shook hands and hugged both of them before running after Kira toward his plane. He climbed the access ladder into the fuselage and took his seat inside the cockpit next to Kira. He placed his head-set over his ears and checked to make sure the radio was working. After confirming that, he took something out of his jacket and handed it to Kira.
"What's this for?" Kira asked.
"This is our victory dance, kid," Mwu replied as Kira took hold of the cigar. Mwu had one for himself in his jacket's pocket. "Don't smoke it until the war ends."
"Yes, sir," Kira responded, putting the cigar inside his own jacket. Mwu turned his attention to the diagnostic board in front of him. Everything seemed to be going soundly. They had the extra fuel they would need secure in the rear of the plane. Sai, Tim, and Leo all reported that they were all set in their respective portions of the airplane. Currently, their plane was second in line behind Colonel Namora's. Mwu flipped a switch on the control board and stuck his head out of the side window to make sure the first engine had fired correctly. Once he saw that it had, he turned back to Kira and shouted over the commotion, "Turning on one!"
Kira stuck his head out of his side and answered, "Turning on two!" Both engines fired as expected and the plane was all set to go. Now it was up to them to get the plane off the ground.
Behind Mwu and Kira, Athrun also had similar luck with his instruments. Both engines were burning brightly and everything signaled green so they were ready to go. He turned to Dearka and asked, "You ready for this...?" Dearka looked over at Athrun and just nodded slowly. Athrun nodded back and secured himself in his chair, fastening his restraints in the progress. Just tell me nobody I know is there...
Frank fired his engine and Jake made sure the second was going smoothly. Their plane was near the rear of the hangar and would be one of the last to leave. Everyone else in the plane signaled that they were ready and Frank sat back and waited. He hoped that they all made it. He didn't want to have to leave his sister alone again...
Inside the lead bomber, John checked his diagnostics one last time and once again, everything was going fine. Mike was sweating somewhat next to him and John really couldn't blame the kid. He turned his attention back to the engines and saw they were coming online.
Mike shouted, "Super-chargers are online."
"Super-chargers are online," John replied back. Smoke poured from the engines as the plane waited to get airborne. John looked over out of his window and saw Captain Ramius and Lieutenant Badgiruel standing on the observation platform adjacent from them. They both saluted and John returned it. The launch sequence sign still said it wasn't ready for launch, so John waited for what would happen next. With a great hiss, the hangar's hatch opened and bright light flooded into the hangar. The sun shone from the east as blue sky mixed with high flying clouds to form a perfect weather scenario for flight.
"You all set," John asked Mike.
"Yes, sir..." Mike replied nervously, wiping his brow with his glove.
"Nervous?" John prodded.
"N-yes, sir," Mike answered.
"Don't worry kid, we all are," John reassured him with a smile. Turning on the radio, he connected with Coop sitting in the nose. "Coop, you all set down there?"
"Yes, sir, Colonel!" Coop replied enthusiastically.
"Looking to get another medal today?" John chuckled.
"I'll do the best I can, sir," Coop answered.
John signed off then and took one last look around the hangar, possibly the last Earth Forces ship he would ever see. He turned back ahead and saw the red lights on the launch board, one by one, turn from red to green. "Let's go!" John shouted, slamming his window shut and Mike did the same. The board signaled launch and the time had finally come.
John pulled back on a lever and the plane's brakes released, sending it down the flight deck. Every eye in the hangar was attuned on the J-bomber as it trundled down the deck toward the sky ahead. It picked up speed and forced John back into his restraints as the G-forces increased. "Max power!" he shouted as he pushed another switch forward. The plane's velocity jumped as the engines' full power kicked in. John was thrown back into his seat and he held on, keeping his hands firmly on the control stick, making sure the plane kept going straight. Very quickly, they were nearing the end of the hangar and their time was running out. Come on...John coaxed. Slowly, the plane began to lift, but by that time, the deck ran out. The plane dropped slowly from its altitude and dropped toward the ocean.
Inside the hangar, Murrue closed her eyes and prayed that nothing had gone wrong. Mwu and Kira held their respective breaths as they saw the plane disappear below the deck. Frank gritted his teeth, hoping that they got the plane up. Athrun stared out into the void ahead, keeping his thought clear. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the plane reappeared from below and soared into the sky in front of the ship, engines going at full steam. Mwu chuckled to himself and smiled to Kira who was also smiling. Murrue heard Natarle let out a big exhale and she opened her eyes to see that the plane had managed to get into the air. She too, let out a long breath, relieved that it was possible. Athrun just smiled to himself and Frank pumped his fist.
On board the now airborne bomber, John let out a breath of his own, muttering, "Geez, that was short..." Even he had not been prepared for that. Slowly but surely, he and Mike brought the J in a long sweeping arc around the Archangel flying at low altitude waiting for the other fifteen planes.
As soon as he saw the Colonel's plane turn about, Mwu knew it was his turn. "All right you guys, we're going! Hold on!" The board once again signaled ready for launch and Mwu released the plane's brakes while Kira fired the thrusters, sending the plane down the deck, flashing passed many of the hangar crew waving good luck to them. Mwu groaned to himself as he pushed the engines to their max and gently lifted back on the control stick. Kira was doing much of the same, silently praying that he would get his crew off the deck. Then, the forward wheel lifted from the deck, followed by the rear wheels and the plane soared majestically into the sky. The takeoff had been much more smoother than John's, but it still wasn't perfect. The plane gained altitude and Mwu reached over patting Kira on the shoulders and laughing. Applause rained from the other three men in the plane realizing that they had made it off the deck. Mwu silently thanked Murrue, Natarle, and the others on the Archangel for all they'd done for him, and forced himself to think that he would see them both again someday. Kira thought of someone who he would have wanted to say thank you to also. Lacus Clyne was somewhere out in space, while he was fighting here on Earth. He hoped she was living peacefully wherever she was, and turned his thoughts back to stearing the plane toward Cuba. Two down, fourteen to go.
"Alright Athrun, let's get this over with!" Dearka shouted deteminedly.
"Yeah...!" Athrun answered, releasing the plane's brakes. Like the others, they raced down the deck toward open sky. Athrun hoped to himself that number 3 was lucky for him today. More controlled than the first two, the plane soared straight off the deck and lifted into the sky, following in the exhaust of the plane before them. Athrun and Dearka slapped hands at their successful launch all while the other members of their crew were rejoicing over their takeoff. As Dearka shouted back at the others, Athrun winked secretly at Cagalli's picture situated under his control stick. He would meet with her again someday, he knew it to be a fact. Dearka also thought of his parents back at the PLANTs and almost absent-mindedly, hoped Miriallia would find peace within herself and live a happy life someday.
The next plane launched successfully as well. Hugh winked at a picture of his wife situated on his control board and floored it. The bomber lifted into the sky and moved to join the others. It was soon joined by all the rest as the pilots and crews successfully launched from the Archangel and soared into the blue sky.
As the final plane lifted off, the hangar crews jumped up and down across the hangar, hugging each other and patting each other on the back. The bridge crew pumped their fists and shouted good lucks to the planes as they passed over the ship one last time, heading southward. Murrue could feel her heart ease as she saw the sixteen aerial bombers head away from the ship and toward Cuba. Her hand firmly grasped the pendant she wore around her neck and she silently said a prayer for the brave men who she had escorted here and hoped beyond hope that they would all return one day. God speed Frank...God speed Mwu...God speed to you all...
The J-bombers headed south, where they would all join the history books. As casualties, they hoped not, but unbeknowndst to them, some others were hoping they ended up as casualties. But right now, none of that crossed their minds. The only thing on them was one thing. Get the job done!
"Yeah...you too," Kira answered. Then he added darkly, "Hope no one you know is there."
"Yeah...thanks. Take care, Kira." Athrun , heading off to where his plane was. Kira turned to where his was across the hangar but heard another voice from behind him.
"Kira!" Dearka shouted, "Show us that same spirit you had when you kicked our asses in the Strike!"
Kira smiled uneasily back at him just to appear to be enthusiastic, though inside he was literally tearing himself apart with worry over what he was about to. He was about to return to battle for the first time in almost three months. What would happen? What would he do? Would he actually be able to go back into combat again? All these thoughts clouded Kira's brain as he sprinted off to his plane.