-New York, July 14, C.E. 71, 2300.
John and the rest of his squadron had departed the double-engine plane a few moments before. Now, the only people aboard the plane were the two pilots, the man who had told John about the reroutement of the plane, and the medic who had monitored Frank's status during the entire ride. A few moments after the thirty two survivors had departed, the man who had ordered the launch, stood in the front of the plane, watching them go into the main complex of the airport. When it appeared that the coast was clear, her opened the door to the cockpit where the pilots were conversing, and promoptly put bullets into both of their heads, killing them instantly. The medic heard the shots and ran up to see what had happened, only to get caught with two bullets in the chest. The man quickly rounded up the lifeless bodies and dumped them on the tarmack, where two more men waited to dispose of them. All was going according to plan now. They had to make it look as if everyone in the squadron was actually dead. They couldn't allow enlisted men such as these to go and blow the secret. The man exited the plane, hiding his gun in the inside of his jacket and walked back into the main complex.
-Bermuda, July 16, C.E. 71, 0500.
Archangel had remained in Bermuda for the past two days following the end of the mission. Although on the outside, things appeared to be back to normal, the same could not be said from the inside. The crew still went about their daily routines, but each of them carried a heavy heart for the men who had been lost three days ago over the Caribbean. Right now, they were safe within the confines of the outpost, but nobody felt like they were really, truly safe.
Murrue sat in her office, attempting to fill out the report the High Command would be expecting her to submit. Because no one in the squadron had come back alive, and with Sergeant Richards having been called away, she assumed she would have to submit a report detailing the specs of the mission. The work was hard for her. She knew that this report would be the final message the pilot's and crew's families would receive on their status. She hated the idea of having to do this to all of them. Especially to the families of the young people like Kira, Sai, and Cooper, who hadn't even reached adulthood yet. She wondered how Cooper's father, General Bradford, would take the news. Would he strike out in anger at the people who had killed his son? Murrue didn't want to even think about what would happen then.
She had finished all of the enlisted men and now came to the officers in the squadron. The sight of her brother's name and her friend's name, just broke her heart. Tears formed her in her brown eyes and she put her head down, crying tears into her arms. Now she had no family left. Frank had been the only one left of her family. Both her parents were gone...well her dad was at least. She was now alone in this vast, empty universe. There was no one she could come to anymore. Nobody.
A soft sound broke Murrue out of her thoughts. It had come from the general direction of her door. She carefully stood up and saw a small thing sitting on the floor just inches from the door. She walked over and picked it up in her hands. It was very small, barely the size of her hand and wrist. It was wrapped in a sort of cardboard paper, and on it, scribbled in red pen were the words, so you'll never be lonely. She walked back to her chair behind her desk and sat the object on it. She contemplated about whether or not she should open it and see what was inside. She knew it was probably from either Frank or Mwu, but just thinking about either one of them now made her heart sink. Nevertheless, she worked the paper off of the small object and held it up to her face. It was a small picture-frame. A small note-card covered up what was inside it, but what was written on it, made her feel somewhat better. Thank you, it said, for making our lives worthwhile.
She removed the notecard, and was shocked at what she saw. It was an old photo, maybe ten years old. In it was an aircraft, probably an old model skygrasper. Perched on the wing of the aircraft were Frank and Mwu, but they didn't look like the people she knew. Frank was shaved, his mustache was gone and his hair was cut short. Mwu sported a short beard that matched his blonde hair in the picture, and his usual cocky smile was spread across his face. But it was the third person in the picture that made Murrue smile. Situated in the cockpit of the plane, sporting his trimmed mustache and combed hair, wasAdmiral Halberton. He was throwing up a two-fingered salute at whoever the cameraman was, and he was smiling from ear to ear. Together, the three men represented the very reason Murrue had for living. Tears, not of sorrow, but of happiness, glistened in the corners of Murrue's brown eyes as she stared at the picture. Taking the photo in her hands, Murrue took it back to her quarters and set it on the end-table, next to the picture of herself, Mwu, and Natarle. Now it had a counterpart. Two photos detailing her entire life. These people meant the world to her. Though some of them were gone, now she could always find them right next to her. Thank you, she thought to her friends who were somewhere out there. Thank you all.
-Earth Forces HQ, New York, July 17, C.E. 71, 1000.
Walls of concrete and steal surrounded John and Mwu as they walked through the halls of the Earth Forces' main headquarters. Mwu yielded a crutch under his right arm, supporting his still injured ankle. The doctors in the city had managed to set his ankle as best as they could, though it still hurt like hell. They were dressed in Earth Forces uniforms provided to them when they had arrived in the city two days before. They, along with the rest of the squadron had remained in closed quarters in a nearby building, to rest up, they had been told. Now, John and Mwu were on their way to a meeting of the Inner Council, the Earth Forces governing body. Neither of them were on good relations with the people inside of the huge chamber that now loomed before them. John because they didn't like the way he ran things in his squadron, and Mwu because he really didn't like to follow their orders, such as at Grimaldi where he had ignored orders to defend useless buildings that he knew contained nothing important, and had subsequently shot down the 5 GINNs that had earned him his nickname, the "Hawk of Endymion".
As they reached the gigantic doors that marked the entryway, they were joined by a third person, Jack Richards. Citing that he had also been ordered to come and brief the Council, he took his place to John's right while Mwu stood on his left. With Jack preoccupied speaking with one of their escorting guards, John moved over to Mwu and whispered something in his ear.
"Does your personal comm still work?"
"Yeah...I think so. Why?"
Glancing to his right to see that Jack and the guards were still conversing, John added, "Patch it through to the Archangel. I think they may want to hear this."
The huge doors slowly parted and the grand chamber was before them. John took the lead with Mwu and Jack following. Making sure that no one else was paying attention to him, Mwu casually, clicked the feather he wore in his collar, which symbolized that he was the "Hawk of Endymion", and activated the comm unit he installed there before he'd even launched from the Archangel. The three men and the five guards that walked around them entered the huge chamber as the giant doors closed behind them with a loud crash.
-Bermuda.
"Radar's working fine now ma'am," Petty Officer Tonomura reported.
"Very good, Ensign," Murrue responded from her chair. The entire bridge crew was on duty at this hour, running the systems of the Archangel to make sure everything was back online. Everything appeared to be, so many of the crew was relaxing in their chairs, conversing about the days events and other rumors they had heard since they had been on the island.
"What's the status of the radio, Ensign Pal?" Natarle asked.
"It's working," Pal answered from his post, "But it's still not up to full power. I uh-," Pal stopped right there and didn't speak for a while. Murrue turned her head to see what was the matter and saw Pal tighten up his head-set and punch up his counsel.
"What's the problem, Ensign Pal?" Murrue inquired.
"Uh..." Pal stuttered. He finally found the signal, and his eyes widened with shock. la Flaga's comm!"
Everyone on the bridge crew reacted instantly to that news. If his comm worked, that meant Mwu probably was working right now also. Murrue jumped out of her chair and came up beside Pal's station. "Can you isolate the signal and find out where it's coming from?"
"I'm doing that now."
Others on the bridge crew had now flocked to Pal's station. Joseph was the only one who remained at his station, and everybody practically ignored him anyway. Pal punched in more codes and numbers and finally isolated the signal to its direct location.
"That's odd..." he said at last. "The signal's coming from New York!"
"New York?" everyone seemed to say at once. "What the hell is he doing there?" Natarle wondered. No one was really sure on that one anyhow.
"Can you put it through to the main line?" Murrue asked.
"Done," he said. At once, the main speaker's of the bridge was filled with the sounds coming through Mwu's comm unit. Everyone shut up at that moment. Other people on the ship listened in to the broadcast which was being played through the entire ship.
-New York.
The chamber of the Inner Council was enormous. Statues of figures that Mwu couldn't identify, dotted the stands on either side of the circular chamber. Fabulous painting hung on the walls which were painted a light blue color which made it appear somewhat peaceful. But all that disappeared when Mwu saw the semi-circlular table which the ten members of the Inner Council sat. Mwu recognized a few of them from the military. Admiral William Sutherland, head of the 7th Orbital Fleet and provisional leader of the combined fleet, was situated at the table's apex. Rear Admiral Niles McCarthy, head of the 6th Orbital Fleet sat two seats to Sutherland's left, while General Draven Corsig, chief of the air force, sat to Sutherland's right. The other seven members Mwu had never met before. He assumed they were all politicians who had nothing to do with the military whatsoever.
John, Jack, and Mwu were escorted to stand before the Inner Council's seats, where the escort guards stepped back toward the edges of the room. John turned his head to both Jack and Mwu and then said, "Let me do all the talking, alright guys." He received nods from both men and walked forward a few steps to take the forward position, snapping to attention as he did so and following that with a salute.
Sutherland followed that with a small salute of his own and stated, "Colonel Namora. It's...good to see you and your men are alright."
"Thank you sir. Gentleman," he nodded, recognizing the other members of the Council.
"That's quite enough Colonel," Sutherland ordered. John moved back to stand at attention and hear what the admiral would say next. Sutherland picked up a piece of paper that was situated in front of him and said, "Now, Colonel Namora. I'd like you to elaborate on the results of the mission, which was placed under your command on May the 5th of this year, Cosmic Era 71."
"Yes, sir," John said. "As you said I received the orders on May the 5th and with the help of my executive officer," he gestured to where Jack stood, "Sergeant Jack Richards, selected the men that I wished to take part in this mission. Apart from the ones that had already been assigned to me of course."
"And the soldiers who had already been assigned prior to your selection were?" Corsig questioned from his seat.
"Ensign Kira Yamato, Ensign Athrun Zala, Ensign Dearka Elsman-,"
"Zala and Elsman are not recognized as military personnel at this time, Colonel," Sutherland remarked. "They had not officially enlisted and were only put in the squadron as a test of their loyalties to our cause. They are Coordinators as you know, the very people we are fighting against."
"...Yes, sir. I apologize sir,"
"Good. Please continue then."
"As I said, aside from Ensign Yamato, Lieuteants Stevy and Niada Barrington, Ensign Jay Haas, and Commander Mwu la Flaga, were the other men who had already been assigned to the unit prior to my selections." John indicated to where Mwu was standing to acknowledge his presence. Mwu responded with a curt nod and John continued. "Along with the seven gentlemen who were assigned to me, and counting myself and Sergeant Richards, I subsequently picked the other seventy-one members for the squadron. They were transferred from their former stations to Sheldon Air Base in San Diego where we began training on May the 18th of this year."
"Stop there, Colonel," Sutherland interrupted. "As I recall, you fought quite hard to allow two other officers to enter your squadron. And in doing so you rejected the choices we had already made, is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," John acknowledged. "Commander Swanson and Lieutenant Commander Barkhesh were former students of mine and I knew they were the best pilots out there. I felt I needed them to be in the squadron to help me command it."
"So, you admit that you snubbed more qualified officers for the open positions and appointed former students and friends to those positions, Colonel?" McCarthy interjected. He added forcefully, "That seems a bit biased doesn't it?"
"Not at all sir. I just felt that,-"
"We know what you thought Colonel," Sutherland interrupted again. "You deliberately assigned close friends to be your supporting officers in your squadron. That in itself is a serious misuse of power Colonel."
"Yes, Admiral. I understand Admiral." Mwu wanted to defend his teacher then, but a quick glance from John told him to back off.
"Good. Then please continue your report."
"Myself and my officers began the training of the pilots and crews in the squadron at Sheldon on May the 17th. During the five and a half week period we were given to train the men, I was pleased with the progress they had made with the launching and piloting of the J bombers to which we were assigned. I then made the decision on July the first to move our operations and equipment to Nova Scotia, where we would wait for our transport to the launch point so designated by the High Command."
Sutherland leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. With a smug look on his face, he stated. "You say that you were pleased with the progress your men had made, correct Colonel?" John nodded. "Then how do you justify the fact that a total of six of your bombers were lost during the mission and over half of the men under your command perished during the operation you were given command of?"
"Sir, we weren't able to simulate actual attack runs against the target with the equipment we were given and-,"
"I don't care if your equipment wasn't suitable enough Colonel." Sutherland leaned back forward in his chair and added, "Your orders were to train your men as humanly possible, under the conditions that would be given during the mission. It appears that you did not do that."
John did not respond to that. Once again Mwu attempted to intervene, but John elbowed him in the gut, as if to tell him to not intervene. John knew this was getting ugly and he didn't want to drag Mwu and Jack down with him. "I apologize then sir," he replied.
"Proceed then."
"It was when we arrived at Nova Scotia, our boarding destination, where we received word that the Archangel would be our means of transportation to the launch point. Myself and my men boarded the ship, commanded by Captain Murrue Ramius, on July the sixth of this year. Our planes and equipment was also loaded onto the ship and over the next seven days we were transported to the launch point."
Corsig stood up from where he sat and placed his hands on the table. "Tell me Colonel. In your report, the Archangel traveled at only moderate speed to the launch point. Was there a reason that the ship's crew chose to go that slowly? If you had gone faster, wouldn't you have reached the launch point quicker, therefore causing the mission to go a few days earlier?"
"That would have happened yes," John answered. "But had we gone at full power, the ship's engines would have been more easily detected by ZAFT. I believe that the Captain and the crew of the Archangel made the correct choice of methods to transport us."
"You believe?" Corsig smirked. He sat down once again and John continued.
"At approximately 0900 on July the 13th, the day we were supposed to launch from the Archangel, we detected a ZAFT patrol craft in the vacinity of the ship's location. It was at that time that I decided to launch immediately,-"
"A full nine-hundred miles away from the target." Sutherland's rant interrupted John once again. "You knew full well that the planes could not carry enough fuel in their tanks to make it to the projected landing zones in Colombia from that distance, and yet you still opted to launch in the full knowledge that the chances of you and your men making it would be slim to none."
"Yes, sir. That is correct. If we would have continued on, it would have put the Archangel and her crew in great danger from attack."
"Colonel," Sutherland commented. "The most important part of the mission was you and your squadron. The Archangel and her crew were only meant to support you. Your decision to launch early jeopardized the entire face of the mission and very likely contributed to the deaths of many fine pilots and crews!"
"Sir,-"
"No, Colonel!" Sutherland snapped, standing to his full height now. "You let your concern for yourself and your friends clouded your judgment of the situation! That's a seriously dispicable act!"
John didn't speak for a few moments, trying to digest everything that was being thrown at him. Mwu couldn't believe what he was hearing either. John had done his best and still it wasn't good enough for these people! What the hell did they expect? That he end the war right then with this mission?!
John finally uttered, "Yes, sir...I understand sir."
Sutherland sat back down and said, "Then continue."
John took a deep breath. "After I decided that we would launch from the designated point, we successfully launched from the Archangel and headed toward the target, the ZAFT Base in Cuba. Approximately two hours later, we arrived over the target. We then proceeded to drop our bombs at the designated targets we had been assigned to. After the targets had been hit, which is indicated in the report, the remaining planes then flew on to Colombia where we all crash landed that evening. We were then rounded up by the Colombian rebels and transported here."
"Is that the conclusion of your report Colonel?" Sutherland asked.
"Yes, sir. That concludes the details of my report. Thank you for your time." John stepped back next to Mwu and Jack and awaited what Sutherland would say next.
"I find it strange Colonel," Sutherland began. "Of the men who were lost during the bombardment, only one of them was an officer. Is there any reason for that fact?"
"No, sir."
"I happen to disagree. According to the report, you assigned the bombers to fly in formations of four bombers apiece, correct? In this report, in your formation, bombers containing yourself, Commander la Flaga, and the Coordinators, were inserted. In the second formation, Commander Swanson, and the Barrington's were situated. No officers were present in the third formation and only Commander Barkhesh was present in the final formation. It seems to me that you were intending to protect your friends more than the other enlisted men in the squadron. Am I correct?"
"Absolutely not, Admiral," John replied. "In no ways did I try to protect other men over the safety of others."
"Also, Colonel," Sutherland remarked. "Looking at the crews assigned to each of the squadron's bombers, I notice that you assigned two of the Coordinators to pilot one bomber together, correct?"
"Ensign Zala and Ensign Elsman were assinged to-,"
"They are not, military, Colonel!" Sutherland snapped. "And it looks as if you assigned the third Coordinator to fly alongside Commander la Flaga here."
"That has nothing to do with-," Mwu attempted to reprimand but was hastily shot down.
"I don't recall asking your opinion Commander!" Sutherland had moved to stand before the three men. "You were trying to protect the Coordinators weren't you Colonel? You were trying to make it so that they would be able to survive, weren't you?!"
John didn't respond to that. "It seems that you have become soft Colonel. You have allowed yourself to become sympathetic to our enemies. You have come to see them as fellow humans. I believe that it was these thoughts that led to the overall failure of the mission to which you were assigned."
"Sir," John finally said, "It wasn't all mine and my squadron's fault!"
"Explain yourself Colonel?" Corsig snapped.
"The intelligence we were given was not accurate. The number of anti-aircraft installations over the target was significantly more than the document alluded to. If anyone else deserves blame its our intelligence."
"Don't go blaming other for your failures Colonel," Sutherland reprimanded. "If all goes according to the way I see it, the blame for this disaster of a mission will fall on your shoulders. You'll be lucky if we even allow you to stay in the military!" He cast a glance at Mwu and added "That goes for you too Commander. I won't forget your interruption earlier. I should have discharged you back at Grimaldi!"
"That has nothing to do with this Admiral!" John was attempting to defend Mwu. "Commander la Flaga does not deserve this type of treament."
"I don't care what you think, Namora!" Sutherland was getting angrier by the second. "All of you are guilty of treason in my book. You allied yourselves with Coordinators, those insults to humanity! You were given an assignment and you couldn't even come close to pulling it off. You even go so far as to charge our own command of misinterpreting an intelligence report. I'll make sure that you all are disciplined. You, your squadron, everyone on the damn Archangel!"
Mwu could hardly believe what he was hearing. His own anger was rising. Who does this bastard think he is? Archangel and the rest of us didn't do anything to deserve this! We put our asses on the line for these people and this is the reaction we get? Why do we even try? Sutherland's never going to give up this fight! With the way he's running things he'll take the war all the way to genocide. He's the same damn bastard as he was at Alaska and Grimaldi and...
Mwu's thoughts stopped there. Wait a minute... He remembered something now. Sutherland had been the commander at both Alaska and Grimaldi. At both locations, the enemy had been virtually wiped out because something had gone wrong and a huge explosion had destroyed everything in its path. Nobody besides his ship had survived Grimaldi and the only one to make it out of Alaska was...
Of course! Mwu finally realized what had really been going on this entire time. All the pieces fit. The botched intelligence, the ZAFT ships, the people in the squadron, Kira, Athrun and Dearka, John, Archangel! It all made sense now! Mwu's fist clenched in anger at what he had just put together. His teeth grinded together and his eyebrows scrunched tight.
"Furthermore, I think it's appropriate that everyone in this squadron be shut away from outside contact." Sutherland was still continuing his rant. "To disclose the information we have just witnessed would be a great moral downfall. Therfore, I propose..." Sutherland trailed off when Mwu gave out a soft chuckle. Sutherland turned to where Mwu was standing, a smile spread across his face. "You have something to say, la Flaga?"
Mwu's eyes locked onto Sutherland. John didn't know what the hell Mwu was doing. "Don't disclose information huh?" Mwu began. "It's all about protecting our blue and pure world isn't it Sutherland?"
"Watch your tongue la Flaga or-,"
"Watch my tongue?" Mwu chuckled, "I think you're the one who'd better watch his tongue from now on. You just made the biggest mistake of your life Sutherland." After getting a confused glance from the Admiral, Mwu went on. "Botching an intelligence report. Ordering the Archangel to transport us. Having myself, Kira, Athrun, and Dearka assigned to the squadron. It all makes sense now."
Mwu paused at that moment, waiting to see if anyone would respond. When no one did, Mwu finally spoke the words that would change all of their lives forever. "You set us up!" John gasped. Sutherland didn't say anything. "You couldn't stand me or John one bit. You hated the Coordinators. Hell, everyone involved in the whole damn mission wasn't on good terms with any of you!"
"It's all very simple when you boil down the facts. First you get every single one of your enemies within the Earth Forces to go on a mission that you appear to support. Then you manipulate an intelligence document to make it seem as if things are different than they actually are. You assign a ship and its crew that could blow all of your secrets to transport us. You have us launch in planes that aren't designed to launch from a ship and you force us to do things that we aren't able to do. And as an afterthought, you let a little mention of the mission slip of the edge of your tongue and reach the ears of ZAFT. That's why the ships you saw were waiting there John. Every single damn element of this thing was a set-up. Just to get rid of us and make it look like an accident."
John know understood the full effects of what Mwu was accusing and had turned to face Sutherland himself. "You couldn't wait for us to get killed during battle Sutherland. You had to make sure we all bit it quickly so you could escalate the war in whatever way you chose."
"That's not all John," Mwu continued. "It seems that this wasn't the only action these people took to kill as many Coordinators as they can, but also eliminate people that don't agree with their principles."
Casting an angry glance at Sutherland, Mwu said, "Sutherland. You were the commander at both Grimaldi and Alaska. Both battles ended in similar methods. Coincidence? I don't think so."
Sutherland cast his own angry glance at Mwu, who was blowing the entire thing.
"What are you getting at Mwu?" John asked casually, understanding what Mwu was alluding to.
Mwu smiled. "What am I getting at? This entire thing means that Alaska..."
-Bermuda.
"...wasn't an accident. He was the one who destroyed the base and killed everybody there!"
Murrue's growing anger boiled over at that point. Every single word that had been uttered within range of Mwu's comm had come through loud and clear to the Archangel. She and the crew had heard everything. At first she had anticipated the Council to be somewhat upset with what had happened overall. But when Sutherland personally went after Colonel Namora and everyone else in the squadron, that had made her angry. Now there was this. The realization of what had truly happened at Alaska. She and the crew had fought their hearts out there, as had everyone else stationed at the base. And now, as the only Earth Forces ship to escape Alaska that actually took part in the battle, they find out that their own superiors had destroyed the base and their comrades. It made her sick inside.
A sharp crack rang out among the people who were arranged around Ensign Pal's station. Murrue's eyes followed the sound and saw Miriallia standing with a very pissed off look on her face. She had crushed her head-set with her bare hands.
"That bastard...!" Everyone turned to stare at Joseph, the person who uttered that phrase. Murrue could tell he was just as pissed as everyone else.
More voices came through the comm. It was Sutherland at first. "Well, well. It seems you actually do have a mind inside that empty head of yours la Flaga."
"So you admit that you set it off yourself."
"Yes. It was me." A number of people aboard the ship exhaled angrily. Murrue was one of them. "As far as I'm concerned it was all worth it too. I killed numerous amounts of those bastard Coordinators there. It was for the good of our cause."
"Who's cause?" John's voice asked.
"Why the people who came up with the idea for this entire mission of yours Namora."
"And that would be...?"
"That would be me, John." This was a new voice. It was high-pitched and grisly in the same right. Murrue compared it to an elf with a giant nasal problem. She couldn't pick the person out though.
She got her answer with Mwu's next word. "Azrael..."
-New York
Azrael's chair had swiveled around to reveal his identity to the people in the chamber. His blonde hair was perfectly combed and his blue dress suit was pressed and fitted to perfection. A sadistic smile was pressed on his face. "Long time no see Mwu. Professor Namora."
"Bastard..." Mwu uttered.
"Oh I'm quite the bastard aren't I, Mwu?" Azrael got up from his seat and walked with his hands behind his back to where his former classmate stood. "Setting my schoolmate and my teacher up to die without knowing the truth."
"This was all just to get back at me for all the times I kicked your ass at the academy isn't it?" Mwu murmured, not even bothering to make eye contact with the man now standing before him.
"Partially that yes," Azrael said. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get back at you and your buddies for outperforming me at the academy. And to get back at Stevy, Niada, and Jay for all the horrible things they did to me there."
"They were kids then, Azrael. Get over it." Mwu couldn't believe Azrael still hated them for what happened ten years ago.
"Why don't you just shut your mouth for once Mwu? You know, I once thought you might make a good business partner for me later in life. But then I saw that you allied yourself with those abominations they call Coordinators. You pitiful, misguided fool."
"That's right," Mwu answered, as if he just realized something. "You're head of those Blue Cosmos aren't you? Dip-shit..."
"Aren't you a little old for name-calling Mwu? Yes, I am the leader of Blue Cosmos, and I will see about the end of the Coordinators. They are a threat to humanity itself and all threats to humanity must be exterminated."
"So, you take it out on three kids and us just to prove a point. Real nice, Azrael. Get us to go on a suicide mission for you and then try to have us 'die'. Can't figure out how your dim-witted mind did all that," John chuckled.
"Oh, I didn't do all that myself, John. I had help." Movement to John's left caused he and Mwu to look over and see Jack stepping away from them and standing beside Sutherland. John's eyes widened with the realization of what this meant. His friend of twenty years had betrayed him.
"Jack...?" John uttered, dumbfounded.
"Sorry, John," Jack responded casually. His eyebrows rose and he said, "You allied yourself with the Coordinators. I couldn't let you carry out your ideas too far into the future."
"You stabbed me in the back...!" John whispered, his body trembling. "After twenty years together you go and stab me in the back?!"
"Don't go blaming me John. It's your own fault all this happened."
"You little snot-," Mwu wanted to go over and smash that traitor over the head with his crutch, but a restraintive hand caught his shoulder and stopped him where he was.
"No, no, Mwu," Azrael chuckled. "I can't have you going and hitting my head of special operations." He laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't see it earlier. The tail-guns made your planes too heavy to get off the deck? He ripped the tail-guns out of your planes so you wouldn't be able to shoot at the anti-aircraft installations, which would increase the probability of you dying. He said he didn't know if you could make it from 900 miles? Ha! You could have made it from fifty miles before then. Lightening the fat ladies? The way he lightened them, I'm surprised they didn't fall apart on the deck!"
"Shut up..." Mwu said weakly. "I can't believe you...if Hugh and Frank were here right now they'd be on all your asses so fast-!"
"Well, then," Azrael smiled, "I guess it's a good thing then that Hugh's dead isn't he." Mwu grunted. Azrael turned his back and laughed again. "And it's typical of Frank to nearly kill himself to save the life of his perverted co-pilot isn't it Mwu?" He turned back to face Mwu. "Those two are as weak and pitiful as you are. Why I didn't finish the three of you off long ago is amazing to me." Mwu was now visibly enraged. His eyebrows were scrunched down in anger and sweat was pouring down his forehead. "Oh, and then there's you isn't there? You fly beside a Coordinator for months and even after they 'destroy' Alaska base, you ally youself with two more? That's disgraceful Mwu."
"Any of them could easily whip your ass, Azrael. I'd shut up if I were you."
"What are you going to do about it Mwu? Oh, and I think I owe you something." Azrael moved up right in front of Mwu and promptly smashed his foot down on Mwu's injured ankle. Mwu cringed when he heard and felt bone and other tissue snap. The pain skyrocketed up his foot and into his leg. Whenever Mwu tried to move it, he felt immense pain. He had to struggle not to cry out, the pain was that bad. He'd never felt as much pain in all the years he'd been in the military. Azrael was trying to prolonge his suffering. "I've owed you that for ten years!"
A long pause followed then. John and Mwu said nothing. They just stared at the faces of what appeared to be their executioners. Sutherland finally broke the silence. "I think that will conclude our meeting for today, gentleman. Guards! Please escort these traitors to their prison cells. Throw them in with the rest of them." Turning to Mwu and John, he added, "Make sure they never see daylight again."
The seven guards that had originally escorted them into the chamber approached John and Mwu from both sides. Azrael began to turn away from Mwu, but Mwu said. "Uh...Azrael."
Azrael turned his head back toward Mwu only to be met with a fist that struck him square in the nose. Azrael went down on the floor, holding onto his nose, blood seeping through his fingers. Guards converged on Mwu with their guns drawn, but John put himself between them and Mwu, protecting him with his own body. The guns cocked and prepared to fire, but Azrael stopped them.
He slowly got to his feet and walked back toward Mwu, only to be caught with a punch in the gut. Mwu didn't move though. That shot was courtesy of John. "I ought to kill you two and Frank right now!" Azrael moaned.
"Trust me," John said, "Frank would've killed you already had he gotten the chance."
Azrael didn't respond. "Get them out of here..." Sutherland fumed. John turned Mwu carefully around and put his arm across his shoulders, supporting Mwu's now immovable ankle with his own weight. Mwu switched his crutch to his other arm and they began walking out of the chamber. Mwu reached up and switched off his comm. He hoped the crew, and especially Murrue and Natarle had been listening to the entire thing, because then at least they'd know the whole truth behind the scheme these bastards had concocted. The doors shut behind them and they continued with their march. Both of their minds were scorching with angry thoughts of betrayal. They had both risked their lives for these people and now they were being condemned to death by them. If they got the chance, they'd be sure every last one of them was rotting in hell.
-Bermuda.
The crew listened to the rest of the broadcast without a sound. As soon as the signal cut off, all of their eyes turned to Murrue. She could tell they all wanted her to give one simple order. She would not deny them.
"Mr. Crew, prepare the Archangel for launch," she said. "We're leaving."
"Yes, ma'am," Joseph responded. The bridge crew went back to their posts and Murrue sat down in her chair. She picked up her phone and rang up Murdoch down in the hangars. He answered and she told him that they were leaving immediately.
"You heard it too?" Murdoch responded angrily.
"Yes. Every word."
After confirming their departure with the base's commander, the huge battleship launched. Skimming along the surface of the water, the ship eased its way out of port and into the open seas.
"Any specific destination you want to head for Captain?" Neumann asked.
"Just head west," Murrue answered quietly. She had no idea why she had chosen that direction. It may have been that she wanted to get as close to Mwu, Frank, and the others as she could, for she knew that they would be put to death very soon. It was as if she just wanted them to know that she had heard what had happened and they were all safe. Right now however, none of that reached the surface. The only thing her body expressed at that time was frustration and anger. Towards the people at the top of the Earth Forces who she had fought and nearly died for. And what did she get in return. They had tried to kill her. Why did I have a feeling this would happen...? she thought dryly as Archangel continued across the empty ocean.
-Author's Note:
Before you read, this message is for the reviewer known as Deathzealot. Anyone else, this message really doesn't concern you unless you've already read the reviews...
Are you just here Deathzealot? Good. The first thing I have to say to you is...thank you. I have been waiting for a review like your for many weeks now. I had a feeling someone like you would come along and wonder about the facts of my story. As I said in my summary, this story is just what I would have done had I written Gundam SEED.
First, referring to your point about the Skygraspers. The Skygrasper Mwu was flying when he was younger at the academy was an early design of the plane, much like the prototype mobile suits at Heliopolis, and it wasn't yet in the completion stage. So, since Mwu attended the best flight training school in the world, it was only natural that he and his friends be the test pilots for the Skygrasper. It was not the design we have seen in the SEED saga, hence the early models. The one he flies off the Archangel in the series is the final completed model of the Skygrasper, after they were mass produced. So, your point was valid and I just wanted to clarify your comment.
Secondly, no I am not replacing the EA mobile suits with bombers. Those are two completely different types of machinery. In fact, Clotho, Shani, and Orga are not far from making their first appearances in this fanfic. So keep reading if you want to see them in action. The bombers fate will be discovered in the next chapter I submit. Also, this chapter officially separates the storyline from anything connected with the movie Pearl Harbor. This was more or less a prologue to the real story. I had to have something like this to introduce the characters and the plot so readers could understand what is going to happen in the later chapters.
Finally, I brushed up on my knowledge of the SEED universe and yes, you were right, mobile armors can't fly in the atmosphere. Sorry about that! My bad! I'll remember that for future chapters. Thanks again Deathzealot! If you find anything else that needs fixing, just tell me!