-Prince Edward Island, July 17, C.E. 71, 1130.
Pieces of metal and wires smashed to bits as the radio was hurled into one of the communication's rooms walls, narrowly missing a subordinate officer. The device shattered into hundreds of smaller pieces and came to rest on the floor in a smoking heap. Sutherland was still looking for something else to take his anger and frustration out on when Captain Rutherford grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him against the wall, restraining his arms and legs so Sutherland couldn't struggle.
"Admiral, there's no point in getting angry over something that's already happened," Rutherford pointed out, trying to calm his superior down.
"What the hell would you know about it?" Sutherland snapped back.
"Easy William, easy," Azrael broke in, coming between the two soldiers. Sutherland finally calmed down and took in a few deep breaths while Azrael continued speaking. "What's done is done. It's apparent to all of us that we greatly underestimated Namora and the others' capabilities once again. I'm just as angry as you are William. Maybe even more. I had three of the most respected Coordinators in my grasp and I couldn't even kill one of the bastards!"
"Mr. Azrael," Rutherford stated firmly. "There's no point in blaming yourselves for what happened today. It's just the way war is. What's important now is that we find a way to boost the morale of the soldiers."
Sutherland breathed in deeply and finally spoke again. "You're right Captain..." The head of the Earth Forces combined fleet moved away from the wall and walked toward the exit, gesturing for the others to follow him. "Have you been able to confirm it Captain?" Sutherland asked Azrael's assistant.
"Yes. Unfortunately we have sir. General Corsig and all the officers standing on the Montgomery's deck have been declared dead."
"Who's left?" Azrael asked impatiently.
"Of the remaining two Feiry's, they still have many of their officers aboard her sir," Rutherford responded, taking a slip of paper out of his uniform jacket. Falling into step behind Sutherland, Rutherford handed the slip of paper to the Admiral. "But as for the Dominion, the only officer left is the one that was left on board the ship for the ceremony in case something like this happened."
"Who is it?" Sutherland asked, opening the door to the makeshift command center that had been constructed on the island for the ceremony and the activites afterward. Sutherland finally took the time to look at the slip of paper Rutherford had given him and found his answer. "Lieutenant Junior Grade, Hal Omanney...What's his track record?"
"As far as I know sir, he's a competant officer. He's twenty-three, so he's still young, but he's been in the service since the start of the war. Veteran of the 2nd Casablanca Battle. General Bradford recommended him for the job on the Dominion."
"We'd like to see Lieutenant Omanney as soon as possible, Captain," Azrael said.
"I'll go fetch him now sir," Rutherford saluted and walked briskly out of the room.
After his assistant had left, Azrael moved next to Sutherland who was standing in front of a computerized map laid out in the center of the room, his hands spread apart on the device's edge. "Is there any way we can find out where they are William?"
"There may be," Sutherland responded uncertainly. Calling over to one of the enlisted men who were also in the command room, Sutherland asked, "Ensign. Can you trace the radio signal that was just transmitted from the now rogue ship, the Archangel?"
"Give us a minute Admiral," the man responded. Azrael watched as the man and several others activated several switches and pressed some buttons. In a matter of moments, a small red blip appeared on the map.
"Right there," Sutherland pointed.
"Five hundred miles southeast of Bermuda," Azrael added. "This is where the signal was first designated when the connection was made?"
"Yes, sir," the man answered. "We'll be able to track the signal's course during the duration of Admiral Sutherland's conversation with the ship. Just a moment now..."
A small red line stretched out from the first blip, continuing southeast for about ten miles. Then it stopped, minimizing in another small red blip. Azrael noted at the last second the line had altered its course to head more southward toward the southern hemisphere. "Where are they planning on going...?" Azrael wondered out loud.
"Well if they continue on their present course they won't come close to any land mass for days," Sutherland pointed out, tracing the red line with his index finger. "Though if they stay on this course for several more days, they could be within range of our forces from Santiago."
"Namora's got something up his sleeve," Azrael interjected. "I just know it. But what has his ingenius mind come up with this time...?"
"I wonder..." Sutherland said quietly. "Ensign, how long on their present course would they have to go until they reached the Uruguay-Argentina border?"
"What are you getting at William?" Azrael asked questioningly.
"At maximum speed they can get there in about six or seven days sir," the young ensign responded.
"I believe they may be trying to escape the planet Mr. Azrael," Sutherland answered quietly.
"What are you talking about? There's no driver within five thousand miles of that area!"
"Yes there is," Sutherland interjected. "Right there," he said, stabbing his index finger into a small peninsula located about a hundred miles south of the border. "It's an old sucker that only the superiors in the military are supposed to know about."
"If it's still there, then why haven't you told any of us about it?!" Azrael snapped.
"Because I thought it had been destroyed at the start of the war," Sutherland shot back. "After we invaded the South American continent, the Inner Council gave the fleet commander the order to destroy the mass driver on the Rio de la Plata strait. It's apparent now that he didn't follow the order."
"And of course that means that the fleet commander let it slip to Namora's ear," Azrael hissed. Then an evil grin spread across his face. "According to this map, the driver's only about 750 miles from Santiago Base. We could take possession of the driver well before Archangel gets there and be waiting for them when they show up."
"It'll take Santiago at least four days to assemble the forces they need to get there Mr. Azrael," Sutherland added.
"Order the commander to carry it out. Also instruct him to include our new assets into the battle strength."
"Test run?" Sutherland inquired.
"Exactly," Azrael hissed.
-Atlantic Federation Santiago Base, Chile, July 17, C.E. 71, 1900.
Come on, come on! Yes...Yes...No...No. No! NO! "Damn it!" The small contraption sailed out of its owner's hand and raced towards one of the walls of the room he occupied. The room's other occupant yelped and ducked his head just in the nick of time before the small device smashed into the wall, breaking into several pieces and clattering onto the floor.
"Geez, Clotho!" Orga Sabnak shouted. "It's just a stupid game!"
"I know! I know!" Clotho Buer snapped back, his hands clutching his head. "I've been trying to beat that game for days now and I still can't do it!"
The two humans had been assigned to the Santiago Base for several months now, where they and their new mobile suits had gone through rigorous training throughout the months. Recruited by their boss, Murata Azrael, the two humans were proud fighters of the Blue Cosmos, the most radical opposition to the existance of Coordinators, though they were currently under the guise of Earth Forces soldiers. While Clotho was obsessed with fiddling with electronic devices and playing video games, Orga liked to just kick back and relax, enjoy the sunshine, and not care about anything. That all changed when they got into their mobile suit cockpits of course. As of now, Clotho was the pilot of the X-370 Raider Gundam and Orga piloted the X-137 Calamity Gundam, both of which had just come off of the production line just before the Battle of Alaska three months earlier.
After calming down somewhat, Clotho moved to sweep up the pieces of his destroyed video game system. Depositing the small pieces into a trash basin, Clotho reached into a drawer of the end-cabinet situated inside the room and took out another of the systems.
"How many of those does your empty head need?" Orga mocked.
"As many as I want," Clotho shot back, sitting back down on the edge of the bed, activating the system in the process and starting a new game. "So when do you think they'll call us to action, Orga? I mean, I'm really hyped up to go and kill us some of them Coordinators."
"Whenver Azrael tells us to Clotho," Orga responded, covering his forehead with his hand to steady a sudden headache that had come over him. "Believe me, I'm as eager as you are to go kill some of those abominations. We just have to wait until the time is right."
"Hope that doesn't take too long," Clotho ranted, not taking his eyes off of his video game.
The pain in Orga's head dulled after a few more minutes. Damn pills, Orga thought to himself. They gotta find better ones that don't have side-effects.
The door to the room slid open and another person walked in. Judging by the green hair that fell over his face, Orga knew it to be Shani Andras, the third member of their mobile suit team and pilot of the X-252 Forbidden Gundam.
"What's going on Shani?" Orga inquiried.
"Take a look," Shani responded, brandishing a piece of paper in his right hand. Laying it down on the room's table, Shani allowed Clotho and Orga to cast their eyes on the document. "Orders," Shani smiled, "They're finally moving us out."
"Finally!" Clotho beamed.
"Shut up Clotho, I'm trying to read, something you obviously can't do," Orga mocked.
"Shut your mouth Orga!"
"Both of you, knock it off!" Shani ordered. "Just read the orders."
Orga turned the paper so it faced him directly and Clotho moved so he could read it also. Orga chuckled. "Track down a rogue ship, eh."
"Archangel no less," Clotho whistled.
"Apparently the crew on the ship didn't agree with some of the Earth Forces goals and are on the run from our forces. Azrael's instructed us and some of the other morons at this base to hunt them down and destroy them." Shani lamented on the subject.
"What's this other objective Azrael wants us to take on?" Orga asked, indicating to the second portion of the orders.
"According to one of the track lines taken from the Archangel's beacon before they shut it off, the ship was heading south across the Atlantic. Mr. Azrael thinks they'll be trying to head to space."
"They need a mass driver to do that," Clotho said.
"Thank you captain obvious," Orga remarked. "This can only mean that they've found one that the Earth Forces and those abominations didn't know about."
"If the map's correct, it's only about a hundred miles from here," Shani pointed out. "Azrael's ordering us to seize the driver first and then wait for Archangel to show up. He's giving us four days to get to the Rio de la Plata Strait and commandeer the driver for the Earth Forces."
"It's a tall order," Clotho commented.
"What, are you scared Clotho?" Orga mocked again.
"No I'm not!" Clotho shot back.
"I thought I told you guys to shut up already!" Shani snapped, placing himself between his two comrades. "We'll leave with our machines tomorrow morning and scout the location to make sure the driver's actually there. Then if it is, we'll tell the base to send its forces here to help commandeer it. Got it?"
"Yeah, I got it," Orga mumbled.
"Seems alright," Clotho said. "You think we should run another simulation before we leave?"
"You can if you want Clotho," Shani said, retreating from the room. "I'm catching some z's right now fellas. We leave at 0500 tomorrow morning. We'll get there at about sunrise. Orga make sure the mobile suits are ready for us."
"No problem Shani," Orga responded. He got up from his seat and wandered out into the base's interior. He stuffed his hands into his jacket's pockets to keep them from getting cold in the balmy winter weather. In the southern hemisphere, it was the middle of winter here while the north was in the middle of summer. The bitter cold stung at Orga's nose and face as he made his way out of the main complex and toward the hangar where their mobile suits rested.
Two guards saluted as Orga stalked through the doors to the hangar building. Reaching a large indoor hangar lit by rows of floodlights raised on the room's ceiling, Orga was able to get a good view of the goodies inside of it. The three mobile suits rested silently beside each other on the hangar's west wall, secured by massive steel girders and latches. His own mobile suit, the Calamity, was to the far right, with the Forbidden in the middle and the Raider on the far left. Their colors ranged from medium blue, to bright green, to terrifying jet black. They looked positively intimidating to Orga as he made his way up towards the Calamity.
Clambering into the mobile suit's cockpit, Orga activated the suit's operating system. Scrolling through the suit's database, Orga checked the Calamity's weapons systems, off-set values, calibration, and hydraullics, all of them checking out normal. He cycled through the systems quickly, though taking his time when it came to the valuable information the computer was feeding back to him.
As a Natural, Orga didn't have the brain power or body of a Coordinator, so it was astounding to some people how much he related to a Coordinator, despite it all being the work of drugs that he was forced to ingest every day. His headaches continued throughout the weeks every time he digested one of the pills. Azrael had told him that the pills would ensure he'd be able to compete with the Coordinator's on the battlefield, but that didn't matter to Orga. Just as long as he got to kill some of the bastards, he was happy.
Orga signed off on the mobile suit's operating system and climbed out of the cockpit. "Don't worry buddy. You'll get to kill very soon," Orga said to the Calamity as if it were a real person. Orga hissed to himself, "We've got to get rid of those bastards fast, or they'll bring about the death of us all."
-New York City Harbor, New York, July 21, C.E. 71, 1000.
Newly promoted Captain Hal Omanney sat inside his new office on board the Dominion, now mored inside the New York City harbor, undergoing repairs to its starboard Lohengrin gun, which had taken a direct hit from a bomb dropped during the attack on the new warships four days previous. His legs were casually crossed and his elbows rested against the arm-rests of his chair, which felt a little too big for him at the moment, since he was still getting used to his position as Captain. Just being a ship captain had been Hal's goal when he joined the military, but he never dreamed he'd be given the task of overseeing a ship this grand, this early into his career.
The screen of his computer was feeding him images from the special meeting of the High Command of the Earth Forces. Unlike the Inner Council, which decided all of the moves for the war, the High Command oversaw all of the military operations from its serparate headquarters, located just west of the Earth Forces HQ. Hal's immediate superior, Admiral William Sutherland, who's flagship would be the Dominion in the future, was speaking.
"As we speak ladies and gentlemen, our forces are gathering at the Ptolemaeus Lunar Base. The 6th Orbital Fleet, led by the honorable Rear Admiral Niles McCarthy, is readying itself in case it is needed in our future operations. The nations of the world will now face their greatest decisions in their entire history. If they do not choose to join us, they will face utter destruction." Hal saw the Admiral gesture to his side. "Commander Jessop. Tell us of our operation's successes so far."
"Well sir, the Republic of Australia has permitted us access to all of their ports and guaranteed their backings in future operations, and all over the planet our fellow Naturals are uniting in their stance against the Coordinators. There is only one nation that has continued to reject our incursions."
"The Orb Union no doubt," Sutherland grimaced.
"Yes, sir," Jessop responded. "Representative Athha continues to maintain his nation's neutrality during the war, despite our numerous pleas for his help."
"Athha's not going to help us any time in the near future Commander, so don't fret over him." Sutherland's hands gripped the podium he was speaking at. "Ladies and gentlemen, right now, I have taken it upon myself to report to you of the High Command that sources inside the Atlantic Federation have located a mass driver on the South American continent."
Hushed voices now roared in conversation as officials reacted to the news. Hal had known Sutherland would have a bombshell to drop on this meeting, but he didn't expect this. His right hand moved to stroke the skin on the back of his neck which had become cold and prickly with goosebumps forming on his skin.
"From what our operatives from the Santiago Base have told me, the driver is fully operational and ready for use as soon as we deem necessary. With respect, I believe this will end our meetings for today."
"What of the Archangel Admiral Sutherland?" a voice rang out from one of the seats.
"At the present time, we are closing in on capturing the vessel and seizing the crew and equipment inside her. It will only be a matter of time before Ramius all the rest of those traitors are resting in their graves. Thank you ladies and gentlemen, this will conclude our meeting."
Hal switched off the monitor and was once again alone in his office. He just now realized that prespiration had been trickling down from his brown hair and had stained his forehead. With a casual wipe, Hal cleared his forehead of the wetness and settled back into his chair. When he had first come into the Earth Forces the year before, Hal had been just a young kid from the Atlantic Federation who just wanted to protect the planet. Now all of a sudden he was being drawn into a racial conflict that had raged on for decades. Hal personally had no grudges against the Coordinators, but he had to admit to himself that he was fighting them to protect his homeland in the war. The Bloody Valentine tragedy which had begun the war had shocked the people of the Earth as much as it had the PLANTs. Hal himself was deeply saddened by the event, but was even greater distraught when he learned a few months after the war began that half of his family had perished in a ZAFT attack on his homeland. That was the main reason why Hal had joined the fight. He still had his mother and father back home who needed him to protect them. His father had joined the Blue Cosmos after Hal's older brother and younger sister had been killed in the attack and was now a vivid speaker against the existance of the Coordinators. Hal had personally refused his father's invitation to join him, and was now on difficult relations with his father. He understood his father's anger, but it didn't seem logical to Hal that he should hate every single Coordinator, while it had been the work of only a few that had killed his siblings.
As a young officer in the Earth Forces Mediteranean Fleet, Hal had served under General Woodrow Bradford, before Bradford had been given the command of the 5th Orbital Fleet. At the 2nd Casablanca Battle the previous autumn, Hal had displayed his avid skills as a tactician by helping his ship avoid damage during the battle that saw half of the Mediteranean Fleet destroyed before the ZAFT vessels finally retreated to the far side of the African continent. Because of the skills he had displayed, General Bradford had put in a personal recommendation for Hal to become an officer with the new warships, which the High Command had granted him. Hal had originally been assigned to be the personnel controller aboard the Dominion, but thanks to the attack four days ago, Hal was now the ship's captain and senior officer. Such a task would put tremendous pressure on his twenty-three year old shoulders, which Hal didn't particularly want, but he would just have to see how things played out. If things continued as they were, this war would continue on for many more months, if not years. Hal Omanney just wanted to make it out alive at the end.
-Archangel, July 22, C.E. 71, 1700.
"I'm afraid the satellite reading doesn't lie." Neumann tried to be as optimistic as he could given the situation which had come upon the Archangel. After traveling across the Atlantic Ocean for six days now, the ship was only about seven hundred miles away from the Rio de la Plata Strait and the mass driver. Neumann sat in his chair on the bridge with John and Murrue looking over his shoulder at his monitor. "Santiago moved about half their battle strength to the strait sometime in the past view days and they found the driver."
"Damn it," John swore.
"They must've tracked our ship's signal when you spoke to Admiral Sutherland six days ago. All of our beacons have been disabled so they couldn't track us that way and we haven't been closer than five hundred miles to any principle land mass since we left Bermuda," Murrue commented.
"That's the only explanation I could come up with also," Neumann added.
"Apparently Sutherland's smarter than I thought he was," John said, exhaling painfully.
"But you have to admit we were lucky to even get this reading from the satellite," Neumann pointed out.
"How'd you get it in the first place?" John asked.
"The Earth Forces changed the codes on all their satellites so we couldn't access them, but Sai managed to break into the database of one of them before the code was changed this morning. He's the one who got the reading for us."
"Uh-huh..." John muttered, studying the reading for a few more moments, asking Neumann a few questions along the way. While they were preoccupied, Natarle entered the bridge and came up to where they were standing.
"I can relieve you Captain," she said to Murrue.
"Thanks," Murrue answered, turning to take her leave of the bridge. Natarle leaned over Neumann's shoulder to see the reading for herself.
"What's their battle strength consist of?" Natarle asked.
"No real heavy machinery," Neumann replied, indicating to the small heat sources around the driver. "Looks to be just ground equipment and a couple of other things."
"Mobile suits," John broke in.
"What?" Natarle said surprised.
Neumann turned his chair. "How can they be mobile suits? The Earth Forces don't have the technology-."
"Yes they do," John interrupted.
Natarle finally realized it. "The data they extracted from the Archangel at Alaska. They must've improved upon it and used it to their own advantage."
"So now we've got mobile suits to deal with," John remarked, turning away from the two other officers.
"What are we going to do now?" Natarle asked.
"Let's just hope Kira and Athrun are as good as you say they are. Nevertheless, we're sure to have a real fight on our hands tomorrow..."
The door to the bridge opened up and Stevy walked in, moving to stand behind John and saluting. "You wanted to see me sir?"
John returned the salute and responded, "Yeah. Stevy I need you to do me a favor tomorrow."
"Name it Colonel."
"I need you and your boys to blow something up for me."
"Wait, wait, wait," Stevy responded, throwing his hands up in a shocked expression. "Let me get this straight. You want me, to blow something up?"
"That's what I said didn't I?" John answered. "Now, will you do it?"
"Uh...sure Colonel. What exactly do you need blown up?"
"A mass driver." Stevy's mouth dropped.
"What?" Natarle gasped. "I thought we were only-."
"Hear me out Lieutenant," John interrupted. "Once we get the Archangel mounted onto the driver, I'm gonna have Stevy and his group leave the ship and put explosives on the driver so when we leave, it'll go up in smoke. That way, neither the Earth Forces or ZAFT will be able to use it again. Do you people understand my logic?"
Natarle conceded. "I guess there is logic behind it."
"Great. What are you gonna need to blow it up Stevy?"
"Uh," Stevy said, thinking hard, "I'd say about fifteen demo charges, a lot of primer cord...and better thrown in a couple sticks of dynamite if you got 'em."
"Go down the munitions lockers Lieutenant Barrington," Natarle answered. "Take whatever you need. Colonel, I'll inform the Captain and the others later."
"I appreciate it Lieutenant Badgiruel," John answered. "Please excuse me, I'm going to go have a smoke." With that, John left the bridge, Stevy following him into the elevator.
The other members of the bridge crew were equally busy. "Are you positive you can work this thing?" Ensign Pal asked, turning around in his chair at the back of the bridge.
"I've been using stuff like this in my spare time for two years Mr. Pal, but I'll admit I've never used one on a ship this big before," Jay conceded. He had spent the past few days figuring out how to work the Archangel's weapons systems. "But I think I'm finally getting the hang of it."
"Although we won't really be sure how good you've gotten until tomorrow when we actually use live ammunition," Pal pointed out.
"You've got a good point," Jay admitted, removing his glasses, he'd been provided with a new pair when he returned to the Archangel the previous week, and blowing dust particles off of the lenses.
"With what Colonel Namora just mentioned, it's going to be equally as difficult for all of us with the Earth Forces having mobile suits now."
Jay placed his glasses back over his eyes and replied, "That's why we've got to be on the top of our game tomorrow Romero. What do you say? I'll take the smaller stuff and you take the big guns."
"That's fine," Pal answered.
Below the weapons control station, Chandra, Tonomura, Sai, and Miriallia were busy at their own stations. "Radar's working at a hundred percent," Tonomura reported.
"Thermal and laser detectors online and functional," Chandra said.
"Sonar readings and comm traffic are clear," Sai answered.
"APU system all green. Starboard catapault registering a point six-five-nine velocity and port catapault registering point seven-three-two," Miriallia added. "Looks like everything's going great down here."
"Why is there a difference in the velocity measures of the catapaults?" Sai asked.
"Because the mobile suits need a bigger push off than the Skygraspers do," Tonomura answered. "Though I doubt Commander la Flaga and Commander Barkhesh are even going to want to use the catapault to get off the ship."
"It's also true that Kira and Athrun won't have to stand on the ship to fight anymore, right?" Miriallia inquired.
"According to what they've said, the mobile suits' propulsion systems allow them to stay upright during flight and fight off the gravitational pull of the planet," Chandra responded.
"Man, those ZAFT guys sure come up with some awesome stuff," Sai commented.
"That should give us the edge against whatever the Earth Forces stacked up at the driver," Tonomura stated. "Unless they've come up with the same type of propulsion system, none of their machines will be able to get off the ground."
"I just hope we can get off this planet and out of danger soon..." Miriallia murmured.
"That's what we all want kid," Chandra reassured her. "That's what we all want..."
Down in the Archangel's hangar, Athrun sat inside the cockpit of his mobile suit, the Justice. His fingers pressed keys on the keyboard spread across his lap, bringing up readings and diagnostics checks which the computer was feeding back to him. Since Kira was busy with the assignment Colonel Namora had given him, Athrun had been put in charge of maintaining not only the Justice, but also the Freedom which Kira piloted.
The screen activated and the words Generation Unsubdued Nuclear Drive Assault Module complex scrolled across the screen, the acronym for the term GUNDAM, which Kira often used when he described the mobile suits. Athrun had found that he too had gotten used to calling the mobile suits GUNDAMs because to him the word seemed more powerful than just mobile suit.
A knock sounded on the cockpit shield and Athrun opened the shield up. A mechanic's face stared into the Justice's cockpit and then in a subdued voice he replied, "Oh, sorry. Mr. Murdoch just wanted someone to check to see if you needed any help."
"No thanks," Athrun answered, giving off a smile. "Tell Mr. Murdoch I appreciate his concern, but right now I'm almost finished so I really don't need any assistance at this time."
"Alright I tell him," the mechanic answered. "Hey what's this?" he asked, moving his hand toward an object in the cockpit. He stopped suddenly when the barrel of a gun was stuck right in front of his face. The mechanic turned in surprise to see that Athrun was still smiling.
"Please don't touch that," Athrun ordered in a kind voice. He was referring to the N-Jammer Canceler system which the mechanic had been interested in. Athrun and Kira both had vowed that they would kill anyone who tried to access the Canceler's systems, and Athrun wasn't about to give up that promise yet.
"Oh...sorry..." the mechanic answered, his body visibly shaking. Athrun saw the man exit from his view and re-holstered his gun in his belt. Resuming his work on the Justice's systems, Athrun checked to make sure that all of the GUNDAM's weapons would be running at one hundred percent for the next day. Beam sabers...check. Beam rifle...check. Anti-air cannon...check. Shield...check. Vulcan system...check. Phase Shift Armor...check. Everything's working fine.
After that was done, Athrun climbed out of the Justice's cockpit and wandered along the gangway in front of all four of the mobile suits inside the Archangel's hangar. At the end of the gangway, he reached the place where Kira was working on his assignment for Colonel Namora. "Hey Kira!" Athrun called.
"Yeah, Athrun? What is it?" Kira answered back, his head appearing out of his work station.
"I'm going to get some chow, you wanna come?"
"Yeah, just let me finish this up here and I'll be right down." Kira's head disappeared once again, but about five minutes later, Kira climbed out of his station and stood on the gangway with Athrun. "It took me almost all week, but it's finally done."
"You think he'll be surprised you completed it this fast?" Athrun commented.
"Nah, all the Colonel said was that he'd like it done by the time we leave Earth." Kira smiled, "I think he'll be happy with what's been done so far. How's the Freedom and the Justice?"
"They're all set for tomorrow. Colonel Namora told me we should get within range of the driver around sunrise tomorrow morning." Athrun's expression darkened. "He also said that the Earth Forces found the driver already."
"Damn," Kira swore, beginning to climb down the stairs of the gangway with Athrun following him. "Now it really is going to be a fight tomorrow."
"He also told me that among the forces concentrated at the driver are a group of mobile suits."
"Great," Kira said unhappily. "Just when you think we won't have to do harm to anyone else in this war."
"Yeah, I've thought the same thing. But right now we really don't have any choice Kira."
"I know," Kira commented, as the two friends left the hangar and entered the adjoining corridor. "Where do you think we'll go when we get into orbit?"
"I really have no idea," Athrun answered reluctantly. "I'm a wanted person in the PLANTs and I know the Captain and the others aren't going to want to set foot anywhere near an Earth Forces base. I guess they're planning on finding some sort of safe haven up there."
Kira and Athrun entered the elevator which would take them up to the mess hall for their dinner. "Let's just hope there's still one left," Kira said quietly. Athrun silently agreed.
-2000.
"You're kidding me? After going through all this trouble to find the damn thing he wants us to blow it up?" Chief Murdoch walked through the Archangel's hangar facility listening to Niada Barrington detail what his twin brother Stevy had told him about an hour ago.
"That's what he told me," Niada shrugged. "It makes sense when you think about it. If either the Earth Forces or the ZAFT get ahold of the thing-,"
"Technically the Earth Forces have gotten ahold of the thing," Murdoch pointed out.
"Yeah, well once we get there and launch into space, if either side got a hold of it, that could be the difference maker in the war," Niada added.
"How are you guys gonna set the explosives anyway?"
"After the Archangel's mounted onto the driver, Stevy, Coop, and me, plus a few other guys, will go out onto the driver and run around it planting the charges and dynamite sticks. We've got to make sure we get explosives in every important place or the entire thing won't go."
"Sounds complicated," Murdoch commented.
"Trust me, it is," Niada answered. The two walked over to where the Skygraspers were sitting and Murdoch heard someone typing inside one of the cockpits. Climbing the ladder situated next to the fighter plane, he peered inside, only to be met with a hard stare from a pair of brown eyes.
"Whoops, sorry Commander Barkhesh," Murdoch apologized, realizing that Frank was the one inside the plane's cockpit. "Thought you were someone else."
"Well now you know Chief Murdoch," Frank replied, turning back to his work, his steel hand making metallic sounds whenever it moved a good distance.
"You need any help?"
Frank didn't stop typing and responded plainly, "Chief Murdoch, I was one of the test pilots for this type of aircraft when it was first introduced six years ago. I have since flown every design and model of the Skygrasper that has been introduced during that time period, with the exception of this one of course." Frank smiled. "Now, if there's a bigger expert on this type of airplane than me, please point him out."
"Right..." Murdoch said quietly. "Well, I guess I'll be leaving then."
"No need," Frank answered, shutting down the plane's computer. "I'm all done anyway." Frank clambered out of the Skygrasper's cockpit and stepped onto the deck, securing the cockpit's dome in the process. "Niada, tell the Captain and the Combat Commander they both'll be ready for tomorrow."
"Yeah, I will," Niada answered. "Where you going now Frank?"
"Where's Mwu?"
"He went up onto the deck for something, I don't know what," Murdoch answered.
"Alright, is the shooting range still open Chief Murdoch?" Murdoch nodded an affirmative and Frank added, "May as well take a few pot shots while I still got the time." Frank pulled out his Walther P99 and twirled it in his fingers as he walked out of the hangar.
"I can tell I don't want to get on his bad side," Murdoch said uneasily.
"You don't have to be on his bad side to get that from him," Niada replied.
On the top deck of the Archangel, on the very top of the ship, Mwu leaned over the railing and stared out into the empty ocean. His crutches leaned against the railing to his right, Mwu still had to use them because of his broken ankle for two more weeks. The black brace had been replaced with a small one centered on the ankle region which was less painful than the one Mwu had worn in the days before. Occassionally, whenever Mwu took a wrong step, his ankle would cry out in pain, but it had become almost a thing to ignore for Mwu, given what he was about to embark on.
He would pilot his Skygrasper tomorrow when they reached the mass driver's vacinity. The Skygrasper's rudder controls had been padded down so that Mwu would be able to work them with his broken ankle. Mwu had flown some simulations and though he still wasn't up to speed on it as he once had been, it would have to do for now. At least this time, he had a professional pilot flying beside him in Frank. While Cagalli and Tolle had both shown skills at flying the fighter plane, they hadn't gone through the flight training Frank had in the past, so Frank was even considered more of an expert at flying the Skygraspers than Mwu was, which suited Mwu just fine.
At the moment however, none of that crossed Mwu's mind. He stared out over the blue ocean and watched as the golden sun sank lower and lower into the sky, it's golden light mixing with the blue's of the ocean and sky, creating beautiful patterns of blue, green, and yellow. There was a slight breeze which would blow through Mwu's hair and sting his eyes, but this was comforting to Mwu, considering that this may very well be the final day he would ever spend on Earth. If all went well tomorrow, he and the rest of the crew would be up in the blackness of space, leaving the planet they loved in their wake. It saddened Mwu to think that he would never get to see the beautiful land and waters of the planet he called home again. All the wasted moments. All the great adventures he'd had, would all be left behind.
"Mwu?"
The voice startled Mwu for a second, but he relaxed when he realized who it was. "Evening Captain."
Murrue came out onto the deck, the sunshine reflecting off of her autumn colored hair and brown eyes. "You know you can call me by my name Mwu."
"Oh. Sorry Murrue," Mwu replied.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked, moving to stand next to him.
"Suit yourself." Murrue stood next to Mwu and leaned over the railing, watching the sun set over the horizon.
"How's the ankle?" Murrue asked.
Mwu shrugged. "Well, it's not a paint-by-numbers anymore. I think that's a good sign."
Murrue laughed slightly at Mwu's attempted humor, which made Mwu feel a little better, considering that he knew the humor had sucked. For a while, neither of them spoke. They watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, reflecting its golden light off of the ocean's surface, illuminating the horizon in a brilliant display of color.
"It's funny..." Murrue turned her head to train on Mwu's. He continued. "I never really liked sunsets before. But now...since this very well may be my last day on Earth, and here I am watching a sunset. It all seems kind of ironic doesn't it?"
"This won't be our last day on Earth Mwu," Murrue reassured him. "We'll be back as soon as the war's over."
"Yeah, I hope your right," Mwu answered uneasily. "Kinda hits you where you live though doesn't it."
"Yeah..." Murrue replied, her voice trailing off, as she rested her chin on her arms. The sun was about halfway down the horizon now, the light it was giving off slowly tapering away. Murrue turned her head to gaze upon Mwu again. His deep blue eyes were trained on the sun, it's golden light shining in their orbs. His blonde hair was bright with light cascading through it. God he looks so handsome... Murrue thought to herself.
Mwu watched the sun sink lower into the sky, but at the same time, his mind was focused on the scent that had come into his settings. It was the smell of wildflowers, the kind that were usually found in the beautiful meadows in far away lands. He had come to associate the smell with Murrue, since it was the first thing that always told him she was near. It seemed to fit her perfectly. Murrue was the kindest person he knew, and of course, one of the loveliest. She was as delicate as a flower, and Mwu hoped she would remain that way for as long as he knew her. Stay beautiful forever Murrue...
"Mwu?" Murrue's voice broke Mwu's gaze and he turned to face her. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," Mwu replied, leaning his arm on the railing.
"Why were you so concerned about protecting the Archangel when you were on your way to Cuba? And when you were going to get back at the Council for all of us, all you seemed to be concerned about was the ship. Why?" Mwu didn't say anything for a few moments and Murrue feared she had said something wrong. However, she got her answer when he stood straight up and pressed his lips against hers.
It wasn't a big kiss, but it jolted Murrue like ten G-forces. Her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected this one bit, but now that it was happening, she didn't want it to end.
Mwu feared that once he kissed her, she'd break away and run. But if this was going to be his last chance to kiss her, he knew he had to go for it. But after a few seconds, Mwu realized that something was happening that he hadn't expected one bit. She was kissing him back.
Murrue's eyes slowly closed and she returned his kiss. Her hands, which had come up in surprise when it had first happened, relaxed onto his shoulders and held him tight. This went on for several more seconds, before the need for air caused them to break the kiss. Murrue's eyes came open, sparkling from the sun's dying light and her lips were curved into a small, but fulfilling smile.
"Did I dream that?" Mwu asked uncertainly.
"You know you stink at telling jokes, right?" Murrue told him. She intertwined her fingers in his blonde hair, turning his head this way and that, as if she were seeing him for the first time. "So that's what it's like to get kissed by a war hero."
"I'm not a hero," Mwu answered, smiling back at her. "I'm just a lucky son of a gun."
"I'd say you were." Murrue pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply. This time Mwu was prepared for the outcome and his arms encirled her waist and pulled her close to him. Her arms rested around his neck and held him for dear life. When they broke for air a second time, both of them were grinning happily.
"I could get used to this," Mwu commented. "Though I didn't anticipate you actually returning it."
"You should know me better than that," Murrue answered quietly, her mouth just inches from his, her scent once again antagonizing his senses. "But you do know one other thing right? We're in the middle of a war here Mwu. We can't do this when duty calls for it. When we're in battle we're just fellow soldiers alright?"
"I can live with that."
"But can you live with this? If duty calls for it, I'm going to have to send you on missions that you don't want to go on. Will you be able to forgive me and keep it that way?"
"Of course," Mwu replied, planting a light kiss on her forehead. "You know they say wartime relationships don't last though."
"I think we can make this work," Murrue reassured him. "But tomorrow, I'll have to give you orders, and if you disobey me, I'll chase you down and make sure you're punished."
Mwu chuckled. "I can live with the orders part. But I don't think you'll be able to catch me."
Murrue smiled. "I have a feeling I can catch you anytime I want." She kissed him again.
A moment later, the door to the deck opened and John stepped into the doorway, a cigar placed in his mouth with a lighter in his right hand. He brought the lighter up to the cigar, but it was then that he saw what was happening up on the deck. Closing down the lighter, John pulled the cigar out of his mouth and closed the door as he stepped back into the stairwell. I'll give 'em five more minutes, he thought happily. 'Bout time Mwu. 'Bout time.
The intrusion didn't even distract Mwu and Murrue on the deck. They were too busy holding onto each other, playing with each other's tongues inside their mouths. The breeze blew Murrue's hair back a bit and Mwu slipped his hand behind her head, deepening their kiss. The world may have been at war at the moment, but none of that mattered to the two of them now. They held onto each other for many minutes afterward, neither one not wanting to release the other from their grasp. They had held it inside of them for so long. After so many days of holding it back, they had finally brought their love to bear, and both of them were relishing in it. As the sun set behind Mwu la Flaga and Murrue Ramius, it was as if the sun was setting on the lives previous to this moment, and a new one was beginning. One that would have them together forever.