-Liverpool, England, July 26, C.E. 71, 1800.
Rain poured down from the black sky, forming puddles of liquid along the streets and sidewalks. Dim light from the streelights were the only light provided at this time, casting an eerie glow upon the damp landscape. Windows were shut tightly in homes along the narrow stretch of road on the city's north side. People walked the streets, covered in large overcoats and hats, attempting to stay dry in the downpour. It was a gloomy night in this English city, and the newcomer didn't exactly want to stay here for very long.
Holding his brown jacket securely to his body, he trotted down the wet sidewalk, his shoes pushing water around in their wake. A large, floppy hat rested on his head, blocking the water droplets from touching his head, which he needed to do because of the burns that still lingered on his face and neck. His right leg walked with a limp, a limp that the medical people had said would be gone after the first week. Besides the burns on his face, he could also feel the severe burns on his legs, arms, and chest whenever he moved. Remnants of cuts and bruises also plastered his body, which had caused grave discoloring to his skin. His back still ached painfully if he bent or twisted it the wrong way. Though in the darkness, no one really noticed his condition, and that was how he wanted it.
The man had arrived in London only the day before, after receiving word that a package would be waiting for him there. He'd received the package from an anonymous courier and a note on the bundle instructed him to deliver it to a certain location, or more precisely, a certain person. He'd opened the bundle up and his heart had immediately sank when he saw what was in it, knowing immediately who the person was he'd have to give it to.
He passed dimly lit houses one by one, searching for the right number. 523...525. 527. The house was painted deep green, with white awnings over the windows and doorway. Grasping the bundle in his right arm, and the long package he had on him in his left, he slowly made his way up towards the porch, pausing for a few moments to get his feelings in order. He took a deep breath and then reluctantly, knocked on the door twice. Waiting for several seconds, he could finally hear the faint sounds of footsteps approaching. The doorknob turned slowly and he braced himself for what was to come.
A woman entered the doorway. Her long black hair was tied back in a bun and her face was smiling politely. The man removed his hat slowly and said, "...Mrs. Swanson..."
"Yes, that's me..." she replied, her voice tapering off at the end. He knew exactly why. Her hands were visibly shaking as she moved forward to touch the officer's cap that sat on the top of the bundle, the one that had belonged to her now late husband. He could see tears begin to cascade down her face and his heart plummeted.
"...I'm sorry..." he murmured quietly. For a few moments, she didn't respond, and he gave her time to bring herself together.
Finally, she raised her face slowly and he could see the streaks of tears still continuing to flow down her cheeks. But then she smiled. "Please, come in." She took hold of the bundle of her husband's possessions and walked into the house, with him following behind, taking into account the house's scenery. Light blue walls surrounded hallways and rooms with elegant carpeting and cabinets made of hickory wood sat silently against the light blue backdrop. It all looked so peaceful and welcoming. Why did it have to be him...? the man thought sadly.
Mrs. Swanson set the bundle down onto a sofa and poured herself a cup of tea, still holding on to Hugh's officer's cap. She entreated him to come into the room with her and he did so, taking a seat in the wooden chair she had brought for him. "Would you like a drink?" she asked politely.
"Yes, thank you," he responded quietly, still taking into account the house's decorations. She handed him the mug and he took a sip. It was delicious, just enough sweetener to suit his tastes. "It's very good, Mrs. Swanson."
"It was Hugh's favorite," she said quietly. She didn't speak for a few moments, and he assumed she was still getting over the original shock and trying to digest the reality of the situation. Becoming a widow must have been the worst feeling in the world to a woman. At least, that's what he thought. "Did you know him?" she asked suddenly.
He paused and then answered, "Briefly...we were in the same squadron for a few months."
"The one on its way to Cuba?"
His head shot up in surprise. "How'd you know that?"
"Hugh sometimes let things slip," she said, wiping away a few tears with her handkerchief. "But how can you even be here? The news reported that everyone on that mission was missing."
Those bastards... he thought angrily. "Thirty two of us got out. I don't know where the others are though."
"I see..." She took another sip of tea and then asked, "Did you see...how he...?"
"His plane got shot down..." he said quietly.
"Oh..."
"He was a great man, Mrs. Swanson," he said quickly, trying to make her feel better.
"You can call me Maria, you know," she replied, casting a small smile.
"Okay...Maria." Then he remembered something. "I guess I should give this back to you." He reached for the package he'd brought with him and opened it up, handing the long blade to her. "He taught me how to use it."
She smiled. "You must be the young man he told me about. The Coordinator,"
"Yes..." he responded quietly. "What did he say about me?"
"He said you were kind, ambitious, and had the will of a soldier. He told me he'd never seen anyone pick up the sword so quickly than you." He smiled lightly at hearing those words, but a small tear spread down his burned cheek, stinging the red skin as it cascaded down. "What's wrong?" she asked kindly.
"I just wish I could've brought him back to you," he said quietly, taking another sip of tea.
"Hugh did what he felt was right," she commented. "He fought to protect us and his friends. He told me before he left that if he didn't come back, to make sure that I didn't cry over him..." she blinked back tears that formed again in her eyes. He reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. "I'm sorry..." she said quietly, wiping her eyes. "So what do you plan to do now?"
That question hit him square in the head. What am I gonna do now? "I really don't know. I guess...try to find a way to end the war so no one else has to go through what you have. That's what you would want right?"
"I do want an end to the war," she said, "but not one that ends in the total destruction of either side."
"Peace then?" he asked.
"Yes. Peace..." Then she added, "Do you think you can get it?"
"I don't know...frankly, I wouldn't know where to start."
"I think I have something that may help you." She got up from the sofa and walked towards the fireplace on the other side of the room. He saw her pull a large black case off of one of the banisters and lay it out on the table before him. "Go on, open it," she coaxed.
He carefully removed the silver latches to the case and opened it up. Inside was the most beautiful blade he'd ever seen. A clean, silver blade with a scarlet handle with gold markings. "That was Hugh's favorite one. It won him all of his competitions when he was younger." He carefully picked it up in his hands and examined it. On the handle, he could make out the words, "H. Swanson" labeled in gold. It seemed to be calling to him. It fit perfectly in his grip and was just the right weight for him to handle. Giving it a small twirl, he stared at it for a long time, but then set it down in the case.
"I don't think I can accept this, Mrs. S-...I mean, Maria."
"But I want you to have it," she replied reassuringly. "Hugh would've wanted it to end up in your possession anyway."
"But, isn't this, you know, like, giving another piece of Hugh's legacy away...?"
Maria laughed slightly. "You think I need this to remember him by? I'll always have two reminders of him wherever I go..." She wiped away tears again.
"Your two boys...?" the man asked.
"Yes..." she said quietly, wiping her eyes. "They are my two angels. They'll always carry on his legacy. Why would you think I'd need a piece of metal to remind me of Hugh?"
"I don't know...I just thought I should give it back to you sometime at least."
"Bring it back when the war's over, or when you've done what you think is right to end it. Which ever comes first." Maria wiped away one last tear and added, "I know you'll be able to accomplish whatever it is you set your mind to."
He smiled, "Thank you, ma'am. I think it's time I left, anyway." He stood up from the chair and scooped up the case with the sword in it. "It's been wonderful meeting you Mrs. Swanson. I hope you find peace sometime in the future."
"I will, don't worry about me anyway." She walked him back towards the front door and as he walked out, she added, "Just do what you feel is right. Don't think about me if you face a tough decision. Just follow what your heart tells you."
"Thank you," he said, waving goodbye. "Goodbye Mrs. Swanson."
"It's Maria," she reminded him, managing a slight laugh. "Glad to meet you too. What's your name anyway?"
He paused for a time then. Do I want to use my name... But then she said, "Don't worry, I'll know you if I ever see you again, kind sir." With that, she shut the door silently and he walked out onto the wet sidewalk, the rain still falling. He opened the case with the sword in it and stared at it for a long time.
How am I gonna bring this war to an end? I don't even know where to start. I don't even know who I am anymore... He saw his reflection in the sword's metallic face. His face was scarred and red from burns and bruises and his hair was a complete mess beneath his floppy hat. He couldn't even recognize himself...
That's it! He stalked off into the night, now knowing what he would have to do if he was going to find his friends and bring about the end of the war.
-Aprilius One, PLANT, July 28, C.E. 71, 1100.
"Although our forces at Cuba were caught completely off guard, we estimate that the total losses we suffered were, at the most, fifteen percent. But those losses were only suffered in cosmetic damage to hangar facilities and other buildings, while many of our machines and other equipment remained undamaged. In all likelihood, this operation was only taken on by the Earth Alliance as an effort to boost the morale of the troops. Thank you for your time, that concludes my report."
Rau saluted and sat back down in his observation seat, while the ZAFT Supreme Council lamented on the briefing he'd just given them. "Why must the Naturals persist on humiliating us, time and time again?" one council member grumbled.
"Because that's how they are," Ezalia Joule reprimanded.
"But what possible good could have come from an attack such as this?" Tad Elsman asked. "Sixteen planes that aren't even supposed to be able to reach Cuba from any of their bases. It's a blatant suicide mission."
"Once again the Earth Alliance demonstrates that it has no sympathy whatsoever towards any of their soldiers," Eileen Canaver added.
"It's obvious to me, that the entire purpose of this operation was just to boost morale of the Earth Forces." All eyes turned to the head seat at the circular table, occupied by Supreme Council Chairman, Patrick Zala. "But Commander le Creuset. According to your report there was something else you'd like to add to the equation?"
"Yes, sir," Rau said, standing up. "A day before myself and my aides left the planet's surface, the day of July 17, we received a transmission that had been intercepted and decoded by our Greenland Communications Outpost. I'd like for you to listen to the transmission, which will probably interest you dearly."
The transmission played for several minutes over the computer console's laid out before each member of the Supreme Council. Because the meeting had been specially called by Chairman Zala after receiving word of the attack on Cuba, many of the council members had only arrived the day before, and they were obviously exhausted as far as Rau could see. As Chairman, Patrick sat in the central seat with his faction of warlords to his right and the moderate faction, led now by Eileen Canaver seated to his left. Although the moderates had won several seats on the council, the representatives who favored the enhancement of the war still were the most powerful, which not only included Patrick, but Ezalia, Tad, and Rau himself, though Rau was not on the Council. Siegel Clyne had once been the leader of the moderate faction, but his unfortunate death three months earlier had left his followers without a leader. Though Patrick had officially barred Clyne from any dealings with ZAFT's heirarchy, no one except Rau and a few others knew the real truth behind Clyne's death, and that Patrick was the one who had ordered it.
The conversation being played out over the console's ended and Rau spoke. "Based on the transmission's topography, we can assume that the angry voice was that of Admiral William Sutherland, the commander in chief of the Earth Alliance's combined Navy. The other voice we believed belonged to Colonel John Namora of the 2nd Air Division."
"The 'Thunderbird'?" one council member asked.
"The very same," Rau answered, nodding. "Our decryptors were also able to isolate the location of Namora's end of the signal, which was centered in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The frequency he was using was identical to the one used by the Earth Forces assault ship known as the Archangel, the one constructed at the former resource satellite, Heliopolis, a colony of the Orb Union."
"Then based on what Colonel Namora's words were, if that is actually him, is that the Archangel and the rest of the people on board her are now renegades of the Earth Forces, am I correct?" Patrick folded his hands together and set them on the table.
"We weren't sure at first, but approximately five days ago we were able to almost be certain about it."
"How can you be absolutely sure?" Eileen asked.
"Five days ago our satellites picked up readings off of the Argentina coast that appeared to be signs of a battle. Further investigation proved that the Archangel was one of the ships involved."
"What would the purpose of having a battle there be?" Patrick wondered out loud.
"Well technically it's not there anymore, but five days ago, there was a mass driver on that very location."
"A driver?" someone shouted.
"How could there have been a mass driver there that we didn't know about?" Ezalia challenged.
"None of our satellites were able to detect anything in that area," another council member reprimanded.
"Silence! Committee members Silence!" Patrick shouted, trying to calm the heated discussion down. After the noise had died down, Patrick continued, "Commander le Creuset, what was the outcome of the battle?"
"The legged ship launched off of the driver and then it blew up. Our sources tell us that forces from the Atlantic Federation's Santiago Base were the ones they were fighting against, based on the weapons and equipment being used against the ship." Rau pushed a button on the console in front of him and the screen zoomed in. "Based on these images, we can also ascertain that both of our stolen mobile suits, X-09A Justice and X-10A Freedom, are both now in possession of the Archangel."
"Damn," Patrick hissed, banging his fist against the table, startling some council members. "Another opportunity down the drain."
"However Chairman Zala, we can hardly view a single ship and two mobile suits as a threat," Eileen remarked.
"But there's still no evidence that they didn't give the N-Jammer Canceler data over to the Earth Forces before leaving," Ezalia shot back.
"We can't rule out the possibility that the people aboard the Archangel gave the Earth Forces the data on the N-Jammer Canceler in exchange for their freedom from the service. Then the battle could've just been the Earth Forces trying to kill them anyway," Tad suggested.
"No, we can rule that out based on the conversation between Sutherland and Namora," Patrick responded. "We'll have to make finding the legged ship one of our top priorities from now on. We can't afford to waste another opportunity in case it comes up."
"Perhaps one already has come up, Chairman Zala." Patrick turned his head to his right to cast his glance on one of his followers on the Supreme Council. Yuri Amalfi sat with his elbows rested on the table in front of him, his hands folded under his nose and his thumbs pressed together against his chin. A high official in the ZAFT military, Yuri was one of Patrick's most trusted followers, and a brilliant strategist as he had proven to be in the cases of the operations against Kaoshiung and Victoria spaceports some months ago, both of which he'd planned.
Yuri glanced at Patrick and saw him staring and tried to retreat back into himself for his outburst, but Patrick said, "Go one Representative Amalfi, we're listening."
Yuri stood up and began, "Commander le Creuset, can you give an estimate based on the information we have as to how much losses the Santiago forces took?"
"At the moment, we estimate that at the most they suffered at thirty to thirty-five percent loss," Rau answered.
"And the driver that the legged ship launched off of was rendered completely useless?"
"We assume so, yes."
Yuri glanced back at Patrick and said, "This may be the opportunity we need to strand the Earth Forces on the planet."
"What do you mean, Representative Amalfi?" Eileen asked.
"With the driver in Argentina destroyed, along with the one at Alaska also gone, the Earth Forces only have one mass driver left in their possession." He pressed several keys on his console and brought the screen to center on a small country just southwest of Cuba. "The one we made them think we were going to attack during Operation Spitbreak. Panama."
"You're suggesting an assault against Panama?" Patrick inquired.
"Not an assault," Yuri corrected, "an attack. The sole purpose of the operation would be to destroy the driver. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Panama's total force rivals that of the Alaskan forces before they moved for Spitbreak," Tad pointed out.
"And with Carpentaria now having to muster everything it has to fend off attack from the Australian Republic, we really don't have enough forces to pull this off," Ezalia added.
"What happened with Australia anyway?" Tad asked.
"They weren't on exactly good relations with the us and the rest of Oceania. The losses during Spitbreak pushed them over the edge," Patrick answered. "They've separated from the Oceania Union and declared themselves an Earth Alliance supporter, which puts tremendous pressure on Carpentaria."
"Just like Fort Sumter during the American Civil War?" one council member asked.
"Precisely," Patrick answered. "All of Carpentaria's forces must remain at the base in order to protect it from attack for the time being so we cannot muster..."
While Patrick continued speaking, Rau checked to make sure that the comm unit he had in front of him still worked. He'd been instructed by Patrick to bring it in to the meeting so that an outsider could hear all of the Council's debates during the meeting. Quietly, Rau spoke into the device. "Can you hear all of this?"
"Just like I was there myself," the person at the other end replied.
Rau turned his attention back towards the meeting where Yuri was speaking again. "I'm not asking for a major assault such as Spitbreak. All we'll need for this attack, is enough forces to get in and render the mass driver inoperable. Because of the minimal losses Cuba Base suffered, I believe they have enough forces stationed there to get the job done."
"There's also a lot of Bosgoulof submarine carriers in that area also Patrick," Tad added. "With them added to Cuba's forces, this could actually work."
"If it does, it'll be a crippling blow to the Earth Forces," Ezalia pointed out.
"We've also learned that in the past 48 hours, the Earth Alliance Pacific Fleet has been on the move for another operation, and about a quarter of Panama's total force has left its home waters. With the losses Santiago suffered, Panama is vulnerable at this moment. It's the perfect opportunity to strike, and we may not get another one for several more months, if ever again," Yuri said.
"Shall we take it to a vote then?" Patrick asked. No one objected so the vote was counted. In a unanimous decision, the operation was approved. Rau smiled. The moderates feel that this will cause the Earth Forces to sue for peace, while the warlords feel that this will allow them to destroy the Earth Forces. How amusing. "It's settled. How quickly can we assemble the forces needed for the operation, Commander le Creuset?"
"Given the number of forces needed, I'd say about four days, five if we wait."
"Set the date for four days from now, August the 1st. We will call it Operation Castaway, since it will leave the Earth Alliance stranded on Earth. Are there any more motions to be brought to the table?" Patrick got no response from any of the Council members. "Then I officially call this meeting of the Supreme Council adjourned."
Council members filed out of their seats and Yuri came over to Rau and said, "Order our forces from Cuba to mobilize at once. I don't want this to end in failure at Spitbreak did."
"And if it does," Patrick interrupted, coming up behind Yuri, "It'll be your head the blame falls on Yuri. Don't fail us. I want this to be the final blow we'll have to deal the Earth Forces before the final push begins. We must wipe the Naturals out now! Or else it will be the end of us all!" Patrick saluted and Yuri and Rau returned it. Yuri nodded to Rau and left. When he was gone, Rau shut the comm off and activated another one.
"Ades, do you read me?"
"Loud and clear, Commander," Captain Kevin Ades answered.
"Prep the Vesalius for immediate launch. Contact Captain Stone and have him do the same with the Ziegler. We're hunting the legged ship again. Also contact the Slythr Team about our movements and see if he wishes to accompany us."
"Yes, Commander," Ades responded, and the conversation ended.
On the other end of the comm line, the person listening in on the Council's meeting exhaled painfully, his damaged lung aching in pain. Zala's gotten even more insane than when I first met him, he thought. Moving his glance from the ceiling, it centered on the photo in front of him. The photo of his girlfriend, the one who had perished in the explosion he had somehow survived. Her smile did not reflect his mood at this moment. I guess I have no other choice now.
Reaching behind him, he picked up his phone's receiver and dialed in a number only he knew existed. After two rings, a voice responded with a simple hello. "DaCosta," he said.
"Yes, sir," the other person replied.
The man looked around him one last time and answered, "Get Miss Lacus. We're leaving."
"Did you manage to get word to the others sir?"
"Yes. Steele, Yakov, and the others are in. They'll meet us at the shipyards. Get Miss Clyne and I'll meet you there tomorrow night. Got it?"
"Yes, sir. I'll see you there." The line went dead and he set the receiver down. It's time we brought this madness to an end.
-Earth Alliance Panama Base, August 1, C.E. 71, 0930.
Captain Seymour McKinley stood in the hangar facility aboard the Valiant, the ship he commanded. His superior, General Woodrow Bradford, stood by his side, watching men load munitions and other equipment into the ship, prepping it for its launch into space in approximately one hour. At 21 years old, Seymour was only a young officer in the Earth Forces, and yet here he was, the captain of a ship like the Valiant. He had survived the ZAFT attack on the Alaska Base four months earlier, and had been serving as Captain of the Valiant since early June, first under Admiral Sutherland, and now under General Bradford. Seymour had been close friends with Bradford's son Cooper, who had fought with him at Alaska and earned the medal of honor for his actions. But Coop had been killed a few weeks ago during the ill-fated mission over Cuba, along with many other fine pilots in the Earth Forces, though Coop only served as a gunner.
"How much more do we have coming on?" General Bradford asked next to him.
"That's the last of it," Seymour indicated to the crates being hauled into the hangar now. "Now we just gotta wait for our new air commander and we can get outta here."
"Eager to leave, Captain?" Bradford asked.
"Not exactly sir," Seymour shrugged, "I'm leaving my family behind, so I'm gonna miss 'em."
"Who's your family?"
"Mom, younger brother, younger sister. I had an older brother, but...he got killed at Alaska."
"I apologize," Bradford said quietly. "Four mobile armors ought to be enough for now, don't you think?"
"We've got two of the new Strike Daggers coming aboard too sir," Seymour answered.
"Hmm," Bradford murmured. "We're only going through training exercises up at the moon base and yet they have to make it even harder on us, with those two."
"Gotta break the pilots in somehow sir."
Several large trucks pulled up to the open hangar and Seymour saw the two mobile suits being loaded into the complex. "Did they tell you who our air commander is?"
"A Lieutenant Mitchell of some sort," Bradford answered.
The Strike Daggers were set against the port wall of the hangar and Seymour saw the cockpit to one open, and a figure climbed out. "Must be him," Seymour remarked. He'd expected another rookiee, pretty boy, not much older than himself, but his vision was shattered. Oh crap, it's a girl... Seymour thought sheepishly to himself. And what a girl... The woman wore the standard female Earth Alliance uniform with white jacket and white knee-length skirt accentuating her slim figure. Long, dark blonde hair was sealed under her officer's cap and her face was fair and beautiful.
She walked up to the two and saluted. "Lieutenant Mitchell?" Bradford asked.
"Lieutenant Jessica Mitchell, 13th Air Division, at your service. But you can call me Jessie, sir."
"I'll try to remember that, Lieutenant," Bradford responded.
Jessie turned to Seymour and smiled, while still managing a proper salute. "Captain McKinley, I presume."
"Yes," Seymour responded, saluting. "It's a pleasure Lieutenant."
"Lieutenant," Bradford began professionally, "Were there any more supplies left to be loaded out on the dock?"
"Not that I could see sir. I can only assume that everything's loaded."
"Very good. Captain McKinley, show the Lieutenant to her quarters and then report to the bridge for launch."
Bradford saluted and walked away from the two, while Seymour led Jessie through the corridors of the ship. Along the way, Seymour found himself watching the woman standing next to him from time to time. Jessie noticed this too and said, "You know you can stop staring anytime you want."
"Oh...uh, sorry," Seymour responded uneasily. "It's just that...I'm really not used to seeing many female air commanders..."
"Girls can fight too, you know," Jessie responded. "Men aren't the only ones involved in the war."
"I knew that," Seymour replied quickly.
"You were at Alaska weren't you?"
The question caught Seymour off guard. "Yes, I was."
"I heard about you in the news. You fought alongside the General's son didn't you?"
"Yes. I also lost my older brother Stanley that day..."
"I'm sorry," Jessie apologized. "I shouldn't have brought it up..."
"No," Seymour answered, "It's O.K. You didn't know. Better to get it over now than later." He led Jessie through a series of corridors, finally reaching the quarters she'd been assigned to. "This is yours," he said, opening the door for her.
"Wow, it's so big," Jessie beamed.
"Advantage of being an officer, Lieutenant," Seymour said, leaning his arm against the side of the door.
Jessie set her suitcase down on the room's bed and walked back to face Seymour. "How long have you been an officer?"
"'Bout five months. I was a Junior Grade Lieutenant at Alaska and I became Captain of this old girl about two months ago. How 'bout you?"
"Just got promoted three weeks ago," Jessie answered proudly. "When they asked if I wanted to transfer, I took it immediately."
"Why?" Seymour asked.
"Partly because I wanted to...partly because I wanted to get away from the men in my old squadron. Kept on coming onto me. Why'd you become an officer?"
"Uh..." Seymour tried to find the right words to use. "Really can't say right now."
"Captain, my face is up here."
Seymour suddenly realized he'd been staring at her figure all while he was talking. "Oh. Uh...sorry 'bout that."
"Pleasure to meet you Captain McKinley." With that, Jessie shut the door in Seymour's face. Damn it! The first girl who takes the time to talk to me in the service and I shoot myself in the foot!
Half an hour later, Seymour sat in the Captain's chair on the bridge. General Bradford sat behind and to his right while Jessie stood to his left. "Status report, Ensign Haruna," he ordered.
"We're just about all set sir," the Chief Petty Officer, Lester Haruna, answered. "Just waiting for clearance."
"Once we're in orbit," Bradford said to Seymour, "We're assigned to proceed directly to the moon base. I want to get there as quickly as possible, Captain."
"Yes, sir. They left it to you to turn us into seasoned veterans?"
"Mm-hmm," Bradford mumbled. "Ship's full of rookiees right now. I've gotta turn you all into the best fighters the Earth Forces has ever seen. May take a while, but I think we can pull it off."
"Really?" Jessie asked.
"If you all have the will, then it's a no brainer," Bradford answered. "I've had to do this many times before Lieutenant. I don't think this time'll be any different."
"Look at it this way Lieutenant," Seymour added, "Just be glad we don't have someone like Admiral Sutherland or Admiral McCarthy breaking us in."
"Good point," Jessie answered.
"Captain, we've been given clearance for launch," Petty Officer Tomer Kansania reported.
"Fire up main engines. Engage catapult at first opportunity." Seymour heard the engines on the Valiant thrum to life and the great ship began to move.
"Captain. General." one of the bridge crew shouted. "I have signals approaching from the north."
"Don't worry about 'em," Bradford answered, the Valiant picking up speed as it sped down the driver's track. "Let Panama handle it."
"Yes, sir," the man answered.
The Valiant surged up the incline on the driver and soared into the sky, leaving the landscape of Panama behind them. The ship shook somewhat as it left the driver's track and Lester turned to Tomer asking, "D'you feel something?"
"Nope," Tomer responded quickly, as the Valiant left the Earth behind, completely unaware that they had made it out, just in time.
-Earth Alliance HQ, New York, August 2, C.E. 71, 0800.
"This is the first assessment of the losses suffered during the attack on Panama yesterday, Admiral." Captain Rutherford set the satellite reading in front of Sutherland inside the High Command's briefing room. The reading showed the area of the Atlantic Federation's Panama Base, which had fallen under attack by ZAFT forces stationed in Cuba the day before.
"They took the driver out," Sutherland hissed angrily. "Damn bastards."
"On the bright side, Admiral, it appears as though they didn't destoy any other facilities at the base," Rutherford pointed out.
"But, they did destroy the last mass driver in our possession, Captain," Sutherland reprimanded.
"I'm interested to know how they did it. Destroyed the driver so quicky, that is," Azrael wondered, standing on the opposite side of the table which the reading rested upon.
"They deployed something they call a 'Gungnir' from orbit around the planet," Rutherford said. "Some kind of EMP bomb, though this one was much more powerful than any other one we've seen."
"That would explain why the forces around the driver were completely disabled when the thing went off," Azrael agreed. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he added, "There's nothing we can really do about it now, though."
"Are our forces in position for the upcoming operation?" Sutherland asked Rutherford.
"Yes, sir." The Captain activated a viewscreen and brought up visuals of Earth Alliance ships readying themselves for the operation, which would begin on Admiral Sutherland's order. "Pacific Fleet is in position approximately one hundred and fifty miles from the target and awaiting orders."
"I talked to Niles this morning," Sutherland added. "The 6th Fleet's ready to move as soon as you send the transmission, Mr. Azrael."
"Sergeant Richards and his team are in place as well," Azrael commented. "He's given me his full assurance that everything will be ready by the time Admiral McCarthy's forces arrive at the target."
"We're all set to go then," Sutherland said. "Retaliation for the attack on Panama will have to wait for now, but we'll have to start thinking about our next move after this operation."
"Do you have the official ultimatum ready, Captain Rutherford?" Azrael asked.
"Right here, sir."
Azrael nodded. "Have it transmitted to Orb immediately. I expect we'll hear from Uzumi fairly soon, Admiral."
"Give Admiral McCarthy the signal to go," Sutherland said casually.
"Yes, sir," Rutherford saluted and stalked off.
Sutherland placed his hands firmly on the table in front of him, taking another look at the satellite reading over what was left of Panama. "If all goes well, we won't need to look far to find another mass driver."
"And, the rest of the world will learn from Orb's lesson," Azrael added slyly. "If you don't listen to us, you will face the consequences."
-Debris Belt, August 2, C.E. 71, 1900.
Debris swirled through the massive junkyard that was the debris belt, orbiting Earth. Pieces of metal, plastic, and countless other materials floated in stationary orbit around a planet that was engaged in bloody war. It was here that the wreckage of Junius Seven, sight of the Bloody Valentine tragedy, had ended up. And where many casualties of the war so far, such as warships and other vehicles, had ended up. Ten days ago, a newcomer had entered the debris. Not because it had been destroyed or abandoned. Because it had no other place to go.
Archangel drifted through the mass of rubble, a white speck against the backdrop of gray and black. Athrun stood in the ship's observation room, looking out upon the massive junk heap. Somewhere out there, was the place his mother Lenore had perished on that fateful day, over a year ago. Junius Seven lurked somewhere out in the debris belt, as did his mother's remains. It was because of her death, that Athrun had joined the fight to protect the PLANTs. How it had brought him here, he'd never really know.
Athrun heard someone approaching from behind, and saw Kira walk up beside him. "We've been sitting in the debris belt for ten days now," Kira observed.
"All kinda looks the same doesn't it," Athrun wondered out loud.
"It may be a haven for supplies as far as we're concerned, but unless we find a safe port somewhere, we'll end up sitting here for the rest of the war," Kira commented.
"What safe port?" Athrun asked dryly.
"Good point," Kira added. "I hope the Captain and the officers come up with something soon."
On the bridge, Murrue and the others were hoping the same thing. "What's our current position, Ensign Neumann?"
"Approximately seven point four-five-three, delta two. That puts us within range of the L3 Cluster, ma'am."
"There's not much left in L3 is there?" Mwu pondered.
"Not since Heliopolis and Artemis were destroyed," Murrue answered. "There's really nothing much out there at this time."
"Makes the debris belt seem like a haven doesn't it," Frank commented.
"Although it is an abundance of water and other supplies," Natarle pointed out, "you have to admit that it's not possible for us to continue to stay here without evading detection."
"Sometime they are gonna find us, you're right," Frank conceded.
"At the moment, we really have no choice, but to remain here until we locate a safe port somewhere," Murrue said.
"Everything else in the vicinity is either controlled by the Earth Forces or ZAFT," John added solemnly. "Either way, we're heading straight into a hornet's nest."
"I can't believe there's no place out here that isn't at least not involved in the war," Mwu remarked.
Suddenly, it hit John right in the head. "There may be."
"A safe port?" Frank said dumbfounded.
"What are you getting at sir?" Murrue asked.
"Gyndana," John said quickly.
"Gyndana, sir?" Neumann asked.
"It's an Orb colony, Ensign," Mwu answered. "Sister colony to Heliopolis if I'm not mistaken."
"It's an industrial colony desgined for producing raw materials for the mainland," Murrue added. "All that's there is a bunch of factories and other industrial havens."
"Morgenrate's got a factory there though, don't they?" Frank asked.
"It's about the only thing about the place that's involved in war production, yes."
"Are you sure it'd be wise to head there?" Natarle asked. "We can't exactly be sure that they'll help us."
"Under the neutrality act, we have the option of remaining there three days before we're forced to leave," John remarked. "We'll just have to see if we can get them to bend a little."
"It'll take a little more than three days to fix the damage to the Archangel, John," Mwu pointed out. "Besides, we still owe Orb quite a few favors for their assistance earlier this year."
"Right now, we don't have much of a choice though Mwu. It's the only safe haven that's out there."
"Given our current location, we can arrive at Gyndana by tomorrow morning, Captain," Neumann reported.
Murrue exhaled painfully. "We don't have a choice in the matter. Fire up main engines! Change course, and let's head to Gyndana!"
Mwu walked up to stand next to Murrue, who was seated in her chair. "You think they'll listen to what we have to say?"
"Hard to say," Murrue conceded. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens..."