I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

Archangel, Bridge, February 7th, C.E. 71

As the rendezvous with the advance force from the Eighth Fleet approached, Falcon remained on the Bridge, feeling tense. The Archangel is one thing, he thought. With Mu La Flaga, Murrue Ramius, and Sophia aboard, there was never any real doubt I'd be accepted without much trouble. But a whole other fleet, especially with Augustus Koopman... this could be problematic.

Indeed, it could be very problematic. He was ex-ZAFT, one of their most famous pilots, amidst a gaggle of Earth Forces personnel. Or would that be a murder, Falcon mused. Like a murder of crows...

"You okay, Falcon?" Murrue asked, concerned. "You... look a little nervous." It wasn't his expression; even if he'd been facing her, it was as inscrutable as ever. But his body language hinted at tension, a subtle tightening of the muscles. By now, she'd gotten to know the new Ken DiFalco well enough to recognize the signs.

"Could be worse, Murrue," Falcon said calmly. "But I'll admit I'm not looking forward to the rendezvous; my presence will not be easy to explain."

"I know," she said sympathetically. "But if they make any trouble, I assure you we'll all back you up; it's the least we can do."

"Thanks." He turned, nodding with just a trace of gratitude, which was itself surprising; it was rare to see him display even that much emotion.

Perhaps he's finally beginning to feel comfortable here, Murrue thought. It can't have been easy for him, fighting ZAFT; especially with his best friend out there. The fact that he had a best friend indicated that there was a heart buried inside there somewhere, deep down. Not that Sophia would admit the possibility.

Sophia DiFalco still referred to her adopted brother as the "Iron Eagle" on occasion, though never to his face; and she still maintained that he was as warm and fuzzy as a porcupine, with all the warm feelings of a dead fish.

I disagree, she thought, glancing at Sophia's silent presence at that rear of the Bridge. She looked pensive, as she often did these days; to Murrue it seemed as if her friend hadn't been acting normally since Falcon came aboard. I'll have to ask her about that one of these days. Something's bothering her about Falcon, and I want to know why. Not just for the sake of the ship -should it be something dangerous, at any rate- but also because she'd become quite fond of the pilot. The talent he shared with Mu -making the impossible possible- had saved her life more than once by now, and Falcon's loyalty to those with whom he fought -and carefully-hidden pain at fighting his comrades- made him a welcome presence aboard the ship.

"We're in transmission range of the advance force, Ma'am," Kuzzey called. "They're requesting authentication codes."

"Transmit them," Murrue ordered, and turned to Mu. "Well, at least this time we're dealing with people who know who we are."

He nodded. "Yeah; I'd hate to have a repeat of Artemis," he added, glancing at Falcon. "By the way, what happened to Garcia, in the end?"

"I assume he died," the one-eyed pilot answered. "I locked him in a janitorial closet, and I'm pretty sure the area took a direct hit." He lifted an eyebrow. "Think they'll try to prosecute me for that?"

"Why would they?" The Hawk chuckled. "You didn't kill him; and besides, even if he'd lived, I suspect the good admiral would have been in for a court martial... one which he'd have lost, once our testimony entered the equation. There's not much doubt as to what happened... As I recall, the only complaint was from Murdoch's people, because of the gore you left in the cafeteria."

"I stabbed one man through the spine and broke the other's neck," Falcon said coolly. "There couldn't have been that much to clean up." He didn't add that the head nearest the cafeteria had gotten off lightly; the other times he'd used the blade to kill, it had made him violently ill. I guess it's true what they say, he mused. Killing does get easier the more you do it.

Some would think he'd have learned that while still flying with ZAFT, but the fact is, pilots don't think like that. When they go into battle, they don't see themselves as killing other people. They see other craft as machines, not vehicles crewed by real people; an impersonal form of warfare, which some envied for its lack of psychological baggage, and others hated for the same reason.

"Montgomery accepts our codes, Ma'am," Kuzzey reported. "They're now requesting our crew, casualty, and passenger lists."

"Acknowledged," Murrue replied. "Send them." She turned to Falcon. "Well, now the moment of truth. I'd expect they'll recognize your name; but on the other hand, neither Sophia nor I realized you were the Grimaldi Falcon, so maybe they'll let it pass."

"If they don't," he said, thinking, "there's something that might change their minds in a hurry." He did not choose to elaborate.

Several minutes of silence passed, until Kuzzey spoke up again. "Captain Koopman is asking for direct communications, Ma'am. He also says he has Vice Foreign Minister Allster with him."

Mu raised his eyebrows. "Flay Allster's father? Huh. Figures he'd find a way out here." He shared a glance with Falcon, and noted that his brother didn't seem to have a high opinion of the Vice Minister.

"Put him on," Murrue ordered. When the captain appeared on screen, she saluted. "Hello, Captain. It's good to see a friendly face again."

"I'm sure, Captain Ramius," Koopman acknowledged. "From your casualty figures -and manifest- it looks like you've had quite the trip, since Heliopolis."

She nodded. "Yes, Sir, we have, and we're looking forward to reaching Earth Alliance territory."

"It won't be long now. We're to escort you to the rest of the Eighth Fleet; Admiral Halberton is waiting, and very relieved to hear of your survival." The man frowned, glancing at Falcon. "I recognize Lieutenant La Flaga, but who might this be?"

"Ken DiFalco," Murrue answered. "Lieutenant DiFalco's brother." She figured the explanation of Falcon's true parentage could wait, for the time being.

Koopman drew back in surprise. "Ken DiFalco? The Grimaldi Falcon? What's he doing there?"

"It's a long story, Captain," Mu told him. "But I assure you, Commander DiFalco is no longer with ZAFT, as our battle records will show you."

The man seated next to Koopman -clearly George Allster- was far less sanguine than his military counterpart. "A ZAFT pilot, on the same ship as my daughter? Why is he being allowed to go about unfettered, Captain Ramius; let alone on your Bridge?"

Murrue's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Vice Minister, Commander DiFalco is-"

She stopped when Falcon raised a hand. "Captain Koopman," he said calmly, "I have a message I'd like you to pass on to Admiral Halberton."

His interruption was enough to cut off Allster's bourgeoning tirade, and puzzle Koopman. "What message might that be, Commander?" He was sufficiently off-balance to use Falcon's ZAFT rank without thinking.

"Tell him he still owes the guy from the blockade ten bucks and a new machine gun," Falcon answered. "He'll understand."

The Admiral might, Koopman thought, but I don't. Well, no harm in it; maybe it actually means something.

"Very well, Commander," he said finally. "I'll pass it on."

Allster, even more perplexed than Koopman, finally decided to ignore the exchange. "By the way, Captain Ramius," he began, "I couldn't help but notice from your passenger list that -as I mentioned a moment ago- my daughter happens to be on your ship. I'd like to arrange to meet with her as soon as possible..."

"Military considerations, I'm afraid, come first at the moment, Vice Minister," Koopman reminded him. "You'll recall that the Archangel carries what is right now our best hope of ending this war."

"Yes, of course," Allster said hastily. "But when it's possible..."

In CIC, Sai exchanged amused glances with Mir. "Yeah," he said softly, "that's Flay's father, all right. She'll be happy."

"Yeah," Mir agreed.

A few minutes later, the link with Montgomery was cut, and Murrue turned to Falcon. "Just what was that about, anyway?" she asked. "Do you know Admiral Halberton?"

His lips twitched, so subtly she wasn't sure if she'd actually seen it. "Let's just say, Murrue," he said easily, "that the Admiral was once a mobile armor pilot; and that during the -failed- attempt at a blockade on the PLANTs in 69, he was a squadron commander." He shrugged. "Beyond that... I suggest you ask him. In any case, he'll know what I'm talking about; kind of hard to forget."

Archangel, Hangar

Kira sat in the Strike's cockpit, typing rapidly; there were a few improvements he'd thought of, and was now adding them to the machine's OS.

Kojiro Murdoch, passing by on a routine inspection, heard the distinctive sound, and stuck his head through the hatch. "Huh," he said to himself, unable to see the screen from his position. "Wonder what's up this time?" He'd more than once found the kid in here at odd hours, forever tweaking his machine's software.

Kira finally noticed the mechanic's presence, and pushed the screen aside. "Is something up?" he asked.

"Nah," Murdoch replied. "Just wondering what you're up to. Tweaking the operating system again?"

The pilot nodded. "Yeah. Mostly just routine stuff, but I also had a few improvements to make. Uh..." He glanced around. "Guess it was unnecessary," he finished sheepishly. "I mean, we just made rendezvous with the advance force, so..."

Murdoch grinned. "Just keep doing what you're doing, kid. It's still your job, for a few more hours, anyway." The grin grew wider. "You know, you're pretty good at this stuff; you could always enlist, if you want to keep at it." Without waiting for a response, the mechanic left, chuckling to himself.

Kira waited till he was gone, then snorted to himself. "Not a chance."

"A pity," a calm voice said.

He looked up quickly. "Commander?"

Falcon floated just outside the hatch, arms crossed. "You know, Kira, I seem to remember telling you not to call me that. I'm not a commander of anything anymore, remember."

"Sorry."

"Forget it," the ace said easily, waving a hand. "I can't get Ensign Badgiruel to stop, either, and I'll grant it's better than the way my sister treats me. For some reason, she seems to be afraid of me; possibly because I nearly blew her away at Jachin." He scowled almost imperceptibly. "These days I almost wish I'd succeeded."

"Uh, right..." Maybe I shouldn't ask about that, Kira thought. There's something between those two I just don't want anything to do with. "What did you mean, a pity?" he said aloud.

"You could do a lot of good in this war, Kira," Falcon told him. "Like Mu said, the day we came aboard: you have the power to make a difference. There aren't that many people who can make the same claim." He tapped his chin. "This war will be decided by a handful of individuals, if I read things right; and I can think of worse individuals for the job than you."

"But I don't want anything to do with this war," Kira said, irritated. "This isn't my war; not for any of us who were on Heliopolis."

"I thought I told you before, Kira: this is everybody's war now. By attacking Heliopolis, ZAFT made this Orb's conflict, too, whether they like it or not; and I don't imagine the Equatorial Union or the Kingdom of Scandinavia will be able to stay out of it more than a few months longer, either."

"That doesn't mean I have to have any part in it," the younger Coordinator said stubbornly.

"You've already played a role in this war," Falcon told him bluntly. "You think ZAFT will just forget about you once you leave? Maybe they will, maybe they won't; personally, I'd just let bygones be bygones, but that's not how the Patrick I know operates."

Kira blinked. "Patrick?"

"Patrick Zala," the ace clarified. "Yes, I was on first-name basis with your friend's father; and I assure you, these days I regret it."

"So you have the power to make a difference, don't you?" Kira tilted his head. "Why me?"

Falcon surprised him by actually letting out a humorless laugh. "The power to make a difference? Oh, sure, I made a difference; only the 'difference' may mean the end of the human race. I helped Patrick along on his road to genocide, a fact that will haunt me to my grave. And that, Kira," he said, voice sharpening, "is why it's a pity you're leaving. You might be able to do something to compensate for my grievous error; more than I ever could, I'm sure."

"It's my choice, Falcon," Kira reminded him. "I don't want to be in this war, and I'm getting out as soon as we reach the Fleet."

"You're right," the one-eyed pilot agreed. "It is your choice, and whatever choice you make, I'll make sure those vultures in the Earth Forces don't interfere. And to honest, I don't blame you. After leaving ZAFT, I tried to stay out of it, too; I hope you have more success than I."

"Thanks." The younger man raised an eyebrow. "So, what are you going to do, when we reach Earth? It can't be an easy choice for you, either..."

"It's not," Falcon admitted. "In fact, it's the hardest choice I've ever had to make. No, not hard," he corrected himself. "The decision is easy; it's living with it that's hard." He squared his shoulders. "When we rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet, I'll offer my services to Admiral Halberton, on the condition that I not be asked to reveal anything that could facilitate a direct attack on the PLANTs."

"And you think they'll accept that?" Kira was openly skeptical. "What kind of use would they have for you, then?"

"Plenty; especially if they want me to go after Rau Le Creuset. And yes, they'll accept it; or at least Halberton will." Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "I'm... acquainted with the admiral, and I think he'll understand my position. Say this for the man, he doesn't have anything against Coordinators in general."

"So you'll keep fighting your comrades." It wasn't a question.

"I don't have a choice." The one-eyed pilot sighed. "Kira, one day you'll understand that when there are things in this world you want to protect, sometimes you have to fight for them, no matter what the circumstances... no matter what the cost. I fight to prevent another Bloody Valentine... and something far worse. I fight for peace, and most of all, I fight for the safety and independence of the homeland."

"Huh..."

This is a pretty driven guy, Kira thought. I've never seen anyone so devoted to a cause that he gives up everything else... even his friends. He swallowed, thinking of Athrun. Maybe that's the only way you fight a war; maybe it's even the only way to protect those who matter to you. But if it is, then I don't want to be a soldier.

"I don't envy you," he said frankly.

"I don't envy me either," Falcon said dryly. "If I had my choice, I'd still be wearing ZAFT red. But since I don't... I fight for the PLANTs in the only way I can. Just as you follow your own path in life." He raised his hand in a salute. "I don't know where your path will lead you, Kira, but I wish you the best of luck."

Kira found himself returning the salute, awkwardly. "You too, Falcon."

Vesalius, Bridge

"Well, this is interesting..." Rau Le Creuset murmured, staring down at the main display. "I do believe we've picked up the legged ship's trail. How interesting indeed, considering our mission has nothing to do with her..."

"A pity we can't do anything about it now," Captain Ades said, stroking his chin. "Now that we've rebuilt our mobile suit complement, and joined up with the Nacht Jaeger, we might actually have a chance of taking her, even with the advance forces helping them out."

His superior glanced at him. "What makes you think we can't do anything about it, Ades? We can easily catch up with them from here."

Athrun, also present, looked up. "But, Commander, aren't our orders-?"

"To search for your fiancé, Miss Clyne," Le Creuset finished for him. "Yes, Athrun, I'm well aware of our orders. However, it's not as if we can just let the legged ship go, now that we've found her. Miss Clyne has waited a few days; a few hours more, if she's even still alive, won't matter much." He turned to another display. "Commander Huckebein? Do you concur?"

"Absolutely," the other masked commander replied coldly. "I won't lie to you, Commander Le Creuset; my own motives for attacking the legged ship aren't exactly duty to the PLANTs. I want the Grimaldi Falcon, as you well know."

"Yes, I remember how he killed you, last year..." Le Creuset didn't add that he felt it was a mistake to bring Victor Tempest back; little though he cared for the Grimaldi Falcon -and vice-versa- Rau was in complete agreement with his actions in that particular instance. Tempest had been the aggressor, and thus signed his own death warrant; they should have let his brain activity fade completely, instead of bringing him back when he was still merely clinically dead. "Nonetheless, Commander," he went on, "I suggest you not let your emotions get in the way, or Commander DiFalco will kill you. The moment he realizes just who you are, I have little doubt that's exactly what he'll be trying to do."

"Let him," Huckebein said flatly. "He may have one of the new Earth Forces machines, but our engineers have already reverse-engineered much of the technology from the units we captured. It's still in the early prototype stage, but Command deemed it appropriate to assign me a CGUE DEEP Arms, for combat trials."

Le Creuset nodded, thoughtful. "Prudent; a standard CGUE would do little against Phase-shift. I was not, however, aware that any DEEP Arms units had yet been produced."

"This is the first," the young commander informed him. "I have every intention of ensuring that the first kill by one of these units is a worthy one. The Grimaldi Falcon will not be permitted to survive."

"Uh, Commander..." Athrun began hesitantly. "You are aware that our orders are to, if at all possible, capture Commander DiFalco, correct?"

"You don't have to remind me of my duty, Zala," Huckebein informed him. "But trust me: once Commander DiFalco realizes I'm out here, it won't be possible to take him alive. He hates my guts; and I have no doubt he'll try to kill me, which will require me to act in self-defense... as efficiently as necessary."

Le Creuset wasn't fooled for an instant. More likely as efficiently as possible, he reflected. Well, I somehow doubt Committee Chairman Zala would mourn the Grimaldi Falcon's death that greatly, but the man still needs to be given a chance... He shrugged mentally. There are ways of keeping Victor Tempest in check; for now what matters is dealing with the legged ship, and that is a task for which he is eminently suited.

"Then it's settled," Le Creuset said at last. "We launch the attack, destroy the legged ship and the advance forces, then return to our search for Miss Clyne. Captain Ades, begin preparations at once."

Archangel, Bridge

"We're approaching rendezvous, Ma'am," Neumann reported. "It won't be long now."

Murrue checked the plot for herself, and noted the ETA. "A couple of minutes," she murmured, vastly relieved. "It's almost over." She glanced at Mu. "I'm sure our passengers -including the volunteers- will be very glad when we reach the Eighth Fleet."

"Yeah," the pilot agreed. "What about you, Falcon?"

The Grimaldi Falcon was, as usual, perched in a corner of the Bridge, trench coat and eyepatch engendering an aura of mystery... exactly as intended. "Whether I'm glad or not is immaterial, Mu," he said calmly. "It suits my purposes, and my mission; for now, that is all that matters."

His brother rolled his eyes, unsurprised by the response. "No doubt."

From behind them came a grunt, then frantic typing at Pal's station. "Radar interference!" he called out. "N-jammer levels increasing!"

Murrue reacted instantly, hitting an intercom button. "All hands, Level One Battlestations! I repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations!"

"Ready Gottfrieds and Lohengrin," Natarle barked. "Lieutenant La Flaga?"

"Already on it," the Hawk replied, heading for the elevator. "Falcon-?"

Falcon had already shed his trench coat, leaving it to float in the out-of-the-way corner, and pushed himself toward the elevator hatch. "Let's go; we haven't much time." He paused. "One moment. What's the opposition?"

Tonomura consulted his detection systems. "Two Nazcas," he answered. "One has launched three GINNs, along with... I'm not sure yet. The other has deployed another four, as well as something the catalogue doesn't recognize. Best guess is some new variant of CGUE."

Falcon frowned. "But CGUEs never went into mass-production... Never mind. We don't have time."

As he was leaving, he heard one last exchange between Murrue and Tonomura. "We've identified the fourth machine as the Aegis, Ma'am."

"Then we know exactly which Nazca one of them is."

The Aegis... Falcon thought. Kira will be thrilled...

He had no idea he was about to be in an even worse mood than his fellow Coordinator.

Archangel, Corridor

Kira raced toward the hangar as fast as his legs would carry him without sending him careening through the corridors in the zero-gravity environment. His rush was quite understandable, as was his illogical sense of the universe being unfair. It's just not right, he groused to himself. We're this close to rendezvous, this close to us getting off this ship and my not having to fight again, and this happens!

One thing that he found reassuring: both Falcon and Mu would be backing him up all the way. If there was a better pair to have at his side, Kira hadn't heard of it.

He was passing through the crew areas when a door slid open, and a voice stopped him. "Oh, my. What seems to be the rush?"

Kira almost groaned when he realized it was Lacus, once again straying out of her quarters at a bad moment. Still, he sympathized with the girl, so he took the time to be polite.

"There's a battle going on," he told her. "Or there's about to be. I'm sorry, but this really isn't a good time for you to be out of your quarters, okay?"

"I understand," Lacus replied; at least this was better than the mess that had landed her on the Archangel in the first place. "But please, Mr. Yamato, be careful out there."

Puzzled and harried, Kira didn't take the time to try to figure out her meaning. "I will," he said simply, and took off again... only to run right into Flay Allster.

She was standing in the corridor, looking far more nervous than Lacus. "I hear there's another battle starting," she said worriedly. "Is everything going to be okay?"

Kira hesitated. It was no secret -so it seemed- that he was rather... fond... of Flay, and he didn't want her worried, or, worse yet, hurt. But he didn't know what to say. "Uh, Flay..."

Flay clutched at his arm. "I know this ship will be all right, but my father is out there, with the advance force. Please, Kira..."

He managed a reassuring smile. "I'll protect him, Flay. And the Archangel. Everything will be all right, so don't worry."

She nodded, still unsure but now reassured, and released his arm. "Thank you, Kira."

"I'd better go." Kira took off down the corridor again, hoping deep down that he could, in fact, fulfill the promise he'd just made... and scared that he couldn't.

Archangel, Hangar

Falcon pulled himself easily into Raptor's cockpit, as ready for battle as ever. He'd only flown the machine in combat three times, but he was confident in his abilities.

The first thing he did was to carefully place a photograph in one corner of the instrument panel; it was the same one he'd taken from his CGUE's cockpit. Then he took the ubiquitous cable from his flightsuit, and plugged it into the mobile suit's power supply.

"This is Falcon," he called to the Bridge. "Ready when you are."

"Roger that, Falcon," Murrue replied. "However, orders are to stay back and let the advance forces handle things."

Falcon was sufficiently surprised to show it in the form of a raised eyebrow. "Has Captain Koopman lost his mind?" he asked politely. "There is no way a single Nelson-class and two-Drake-class ships, even with their complements of mobile armors, can stop the ZAFT attack force. Seven GINNs, the Aegis, and a new model CGUE? Murrue..."

"We're aware of that, Commander," Natarle cut in sharply; but she didn't seem too pleased about it, either. "Orders are orders, though."

"Figures," the pilot muttered to himself. If this were my team, he thought, being given such insane orders, I'd disregard them in a heartbeat. But I suppose the Earth Forces don't rely quite so much on initiative. He snorted. No wonder they're losing the war. "All right, standing by."

Outside, in the huge chamber, Kira finally arrived, in full flight gear. "You're late," Murdoch admonished. His heart wasn't in it, though: it was obvious the delay meant little, given the peculiar orders Koopman had given.

"I'm sorry," the pilot apologized, without giving details, and plunged into the Strike.

Once inside, he too began preparing his machine for combat, sensing that Archangel would not remain on the sidelines for long. Athrun... will I have to face you again? Will you try to destroy this ship again? Because if you do... I may have no choice but to shoot you down.

Shaking off these thoughts, Kira keyed his radio. "Falcon, Lieutenant, I'm ready."

"Good to hear it, kid," Mu replied; he was even less bothered by Kira's tardiness than Murdoch. "I don't think we're gonna be able to stay out of this one, so keep on your toes. If things get bad, just remember to follow Falcon's lead; he'll get you out alive."

"Got it."

"Don't place too much faith in me," Falcon warned. "There are nine machines out there, and one of them I don't recognize. Keep your eyes open, and remember what I taught you."

"I will, Falcon." In the days since Artemis, the one-eyed pilot had put Kira through the simulators, using custom-made scenarios. These included a recreation of the Battle of Endymion, which Kira had survived through, as he saw it, luck.

Falcon disagreed. He'd kept a close eye on his young friend's simulations, and the test results astounded him. Kira might have only barely made it through the Endymion scenario, but he'd only been three actual battles before that; twice at Heliopolis, and once just outside Artemis (the skirmish in the Debris Belt didn't really count, since Kira and Falcon had blown away the recon GINN with absolutely no warning). Given that the Gray Demons who died at Endymion had considerably more experience than Kira, it was nothing short of astonishing that he survived on his first try.

In Falcon's experience, only one pilot came close to matching Kira's incredibly fast adjustment to mobile suit combat, and that was himself. Even in his case, he'd at least been inside one of the things before making his first kill!

The kid is incredible, Falcon thought to himself, awaiting the inevitable order to launch. If I were forming a new team, he'd be my first pick... and if I'd just seen his flying, without knowing anything about his background, I'd assume he was a hardened veteran, not a college kid who got caught in the middle! Too bad he's not sticking around, 'cause I could really use him...

He would not be the last person to have that thought, though the next would have considerably less restraint... and tact.

Montgomery, Bridge

Atlantic Federation Vice Foreign Minister George Allster watched the oncoming ZAFT forces with something akin to panic. This can't be happening, he told himself. Not here, not now, not to me!

"Launch our mobile armors," Koopman was ordering. "Ready all weapons and prepare for combat. Not that it'll do any good," he added under his breath.

"This is crazy!" Allster finally blurted. "There's so many; we can't possibly stop them all! Why did you order the Archangel to stand off? They could help us!"

"They could," Koopman acknowledged, "but even then we'd be outnumbered. The important thing now is to give them time to escape, and get their ship and cargo to Ptolemaeus." He gave the politician a cold look. "We are expendable, Vice Minister, and they are not. Those are the facts."

"Expendable?" Allster stared at him with fear and outrage. "How can you say that? I'm the Vice Foreign Minister-"

"I realize that, Sir," the captain interrupted, "but the cold, hard fact is that right now, the Earth Alliance needs a vice foreign minister less than it needs the Archangel and her remaining complement of mobile suits. It's also my belief that Commander Kenneth DiFalco will be more valuable to the war effort than any of us, which means my priority is to buy that ship time... even if it means our deaths."

Allster could only stare at him in horror, as a crewman called out a warning. "We have engaged the enemy, Captain."

Vesalius, Bridge

"And so it begins," Le Creuset murmured. "I doubt it will take very long for us to fight our way through this rabble, but their sacrifice may actually buy the legged ship enough time to withdraw. What do you think, Ades?" he asked, turning to the captain.

Ades took a moment to think about that. He wasn't brilliant, and he knew it, but he did have a decent intellect; and he had the advantage of also being an acquaintance of Commander DiFalco. "They may have time to withdraw," he said slowly, "but there may be one factor to delay them."

"Two, actually," Le Creuset corrected. "They'll also be reluctant to sit by and watch their comrades be blown out of space; such is human nature. I assume, though, that you're referring to Commander Huckebein's presence? Yes, I'm sure that will distract Falcon quite well, if and when he's launched; in that event, I have no doubt the legged ship will tarry to help him, and then the ship will be ours."

"Agreed." Ades frowned, though; something was bothering him. "But can we count on Commander Huckebein? Something just... doesn't seem right, if you'll pardon me for saying so, Sir."

"It's quite all right," his commander assured him. "Frankly, something about him is bothering me, as well. According to military records, he was somewhat... peculiar, even from the time he first joined ZAFT; apparently, Falcon was one of the few who could stand him enough to take him into his team. Now, I suspect having his heart destroyed by Falcon's blade has done something to him." He smiled. "You know, Committee Chairman Zala really was quite brilliant, in setting up this operation. If I'm not mistaken, while he does hope to take Falcon alive, he also hopes Huckebein will die in the process, thus removing a potentially unstable element from the equation."

Vesalius' captain stared at him. "You can't mean...?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Ades," Le Creuset said calmly. "It's how it's always been done, throughout the millennia of human conflict: when you have a man who is becoming an inconvenience -or worse, a threat- you send him out to the frontlines, and hope he doesn't make it back. There's nothing remarkable about that." He steepled his fingers. "If I'm not mistaken, Committee Chairman Zala has read Falcon quite well: as soon as he realizes Victor Tempest is here, he will attack with everything he has. That should, in theory, result in Huckebein's death, while Falcon's machine takes enough of a beating in the process to make capture feasible. Yes, a most brilliant plan..."

Almost as a backdrop to the conversation, a mobile armor and the Earth Alliance Forces Escort Ship Law vanished in a fiery pyre against the black of space.

Archangel, Bridge

Murrue watched helplessly as the first of the three escort ships was blasted out of space by the ZAFT forces. This is unbelievable, a corner of her mind whispered. We come so close to rendezvous, only to have it disrupted by a chance encounter with ZAFT forces... and now we're outnumbered. Is there any way out of this situation?

The screen on her left armrest lit up. "Captain," Mu began, "we have to do something. The advance force is getting slaughtered out there, and we're next. I don't think we can get out of this without a fight."

"But our orders-" Murrue protested.

Her right-hand screen came on. "Forget the orders," Falcon advised coldly. "A soldier is supposed to be obey orders, even to the death; but there comes a time when to obey orders is to lose one's life for no reason at all, and that is when the soldier must disobey. If we stay like this, Murrue, we will be throwing our lives away, and that is not the soldier's duty."

The pilot's vehemence told Murrue he had an ulterior motive. Something about the way he talked about throwing their lives away made her think he, for whatever reason, thought his own survival was imperative... and something told her it wasn't ego or self-preservation gone out of control. He knows something... and if he dies, the ability to do anything about it dies with him...

That, however, was not relevant to this situation. What was relevant was that he was right. "It's true," she said slowly. "There's little chance would escape even if we did withdraw. Very well," she continued, looking down into CIC. "Launch the Strike, Raptor, and Moebius Zero."

"Yes, Ma'am," Mir responded. "Load the Zero into the port catapult, and Strike to starboard. Prepare Raptor for launch."

Archangel, Hangar

"Finally," Falcon muttered. "I was beginning to think she'd wait until the advance force was all gone..." Not that he expected the ships to survive anyway; the Archangel's intervention might save herself, but with the enemy forces arrayed against them, Montgomery and her remaining sister were doomed.

In the starboard catapult, Kira lowered his visor. "Strike here. I'm ready."

"Roger that," Mir answered.

Sai's voice broke in. "Be careful out there, Kira. And remember, Flay's father is on one of those ships, too."

"I know. I won't forget." His grip tightened on the controls. "Kira Yamato, launching!"

To port, the Moebius Zero was being loaded, while Raptor took Strike's place. "You ready, Falcon?" Mu called, lowering his visor.

"Ready as I can be," Falcon replied. "This won't be easy, Mu. You know that."

"You faced worse at Endymion," his brother pointed out.

"That was because of that cursed Cyclops, and you know it. We were winning at Endymion, Mu. Mostly." He qualified his statement as he remembered the casualties his team had taken even before the Cyclops annihilated everything.

"Yeah, well, this time you've got a G-weapon; maybe you'll have better luck." Mu grinned. "And your protégé's no slouch, either." He gripped his flight stick. "Mu La Flaga, launching!"

"Grimaldi Falcon, launching." Once out of the catapult, Falcon's one-eyed gaze flicked over to the Zero. "My what, Mu?"

"Hey, you taught him everything he knows, right?"

Montgomery, Bridge

"Status change!" a crewman called out. "Archangel seems to be deploying-"

He broke off as a GINN came uncomfortably close to the Bride viewport, only to be blown away by a huge green blast.

"The Archangel's come to help!" Allster exclaimed, expressing vast -unfounded- relief.

"Against orders," Koopman muttered. In a sense, he was just as angry at himself as at Murrue Ramius. Idiot, he groused. First rule of command: never give an order you know won't be obeyed. And you should have known.

"As I was saying," the crewman continued after several moments, "the Archangel has deployed the Moebius Zero and both G-machines."

"Then we have a chance," Allster said hopefully.

Koopman glanced at him with barely-disguised disgust. "If you honestly believe that, Sir, then I suggest you take another look at the odds."

The politician didn't understand, which was perhaps fortunate. If he had, he would have realized that the odds had hardly changed at all.

Orbit, Exact Coordinates Unknown
"What we have here is a furball," Falcon muttered to himself. "Or at least it's about it be." He keyed his radio. "Kira, keep Aegis busy; Mu and I will handle the GINNs."

"Roger that." Kira had been intending to do that anyway. I don't want to fight you, Athrun, but better it be me than somebody else.

Strike pealed away from Raptor and the Zero, leaving them to go after the main force. "You think we can handle all those GINNs, Falcon?" Mu queried. "Sure are a lot of them."

"The GINNs don't worry me," Falcon replied, frowning. "It's that CGUE. It appears to have beam weapons... and his flying style seems familiar..." He shrugged, and set his radio on a general frequency, before opening his mouth.

The ZAFT pilots instantly recognized the wailing cry of the peregrine falcon that was the Grimaldi Falcon's trademark, and some of them hesitated, fearful... while others went straight for the traitor.

"Here they come, Falcon," Mu warned. "Let's go."

"Acknowledged." Falcon's Death Blossoms deployed, and he tightened his grip on the controls. "Break formation and open fire."

The Hawk judged from his brother's tone that he wasn't speaking directly to him; it was merely habit, from long-ago battles. On the other hand, Mu thought, this kid actually has more battle experience than I do. Maybe I'd better listen to him.

Even as Strike and Aegis began to clash blade to blade, neither saying a word, the first GINNs reached Mu and Falcon, and the furball began.

The Zero wrenched around, pulling as many Gs as its pilot could stand, and sent its wired gunbarrels spiraling out, spitting death from all directions. Meanwhile, Raptor had drawn a beam saber from its Striker pack, and aimed its arm-mounted rocket anchor at one enemy while simultaneously engaging another with the Death Blossoms.

The unlucky pilot of Falcon's first target gasped in surprise as the Panzer Eisen shot out at him, grabbed his GINN's arm, and retracted, pulling him into easy killing range. "Oh, no-!" The saber swept toward him...

But did not plunge into the cockpit, as expected. Instead, Falcon swept it lower, cutting through the GINN's legs, then high, through both arms, leaving the machine capable of little more than maneuvering. "Remember Lesson Twenty-Nine," he whispered. "The sly Falcon does not kill at whim."

As Raptor released the badly-maimed machine, the pilot -off of Nacht Jaeger- opened a channel to his commander. "Commander Huckebein, Sir, I'm sorry. I'm out of the fight."

"Get going, Jack," Huckebein ordered. "We'll handle him from here."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Few pilots can match the Grimaldi Falcon."

Unbeknownst to either of them, Falcon had been listening in on the standard ZAFT frequencies, and now his eye went wide with shock. "Huckebein...?" he whispered, stunned. "Tempest!"

To Mu's utter bemusement -he was busy fighting another GINN, but he also kept an eye on his brother- Raptor wheeled around and headed straight for the CGUE DEEP Arms, ignoring all else... even the pair of GINNs that attempted to impede his progress. "What's the matter with you, Falcon? Where are you going?"

"Huckebein's out here, Mu," Falcon replied tensely.

That name Mu recognized. "You mean Huckebein the Raven? What's so remarkable-"

"Mu, Huckebein the Raven was Victor Tempest's alias, when he was with the Gray Demons." The one-eyed pilot bared his teeth in a snarl. "I guess I didn't kill him dead enough, that bastard."

It was the most emotion Mu had ever heard from the man, and it surprised him. Evidently, some things could get through his formidable self-control; and it appeared the friendship between Ken DiFalco and Victor Tempest had turned now to mutual hatred.

We don't have time for this, Mu told himself. A battle like this is no place for a personal vendetta. But... he is an enemy, anyway, and flying the second-best mobile suit they've got out here; and if Falcon doesn't do it here, I'm sure he'll do it next time. Might as well get it over with.

"Go get him, little brother," he said finally. "I'll try and keep the GINNs off you. But be careful, okay?"

"Whatever you say." From the tone of his voice, it was clear Falcon wasn't even really paying attention now; every sense, every facet of his mind, was focused on his new objective: kill Victor Tempest. Finish the job begun at the Eyrie, months ago. A flash of the past went through Falcon's mind...

Falcon's blade caught Tempest's, forcing him back a step. "Just what do you think you're doing, Victor?" he demanded.

"Taking over," Tempest answered, bringing his katana forward again, narrowly missing his commander's face. "You are not the right man for the job, Commander. Not anymore."

"Don't be a fool, Victor! Even if you win, you know the penalty for assaulting a superior officer!"

Tempest's blade came around again, biting into Falcon's flesh, arcing diagonally across his left eye...

"Not this time, Victor," Falcon whispered. "You're not getting away today." Raptor's verniers went to full power, thrusting toward the DEEP Arms.

Huckebein grinned, seeing his former commander's machine plunge through space toward him. "So, Commander," he called, keying his radio. "You've realized who I am, have you?"

"Traitor," Falcon hissed. "Today's the day, Tempest. Or should I say, Huckebein the Raven? You seem to be going by a new moniker."

"Oh, it's the same one I was using with the Demons," Tempest said indifferently. "It's just, these days it's almost the only thing I'm called."

"Whatever. Today you die, Raven." Falcon raised his beam saber, attention entirely focused on his target; even when Strike and Aegis flashed past, exchanging laser fire, his gaze did not waver. "I'll make sure of it this time."

"Is that a fact?" The masked pilot sounded more amused than anything else. "Don't count on it, Sir. You may be flying one of those fancy G-machines, with that fancy Phase-shift armor, but it won't do you any good at all against beam weapons."

The new-model CGUE armed both shoulder-mounted cannons, and drew the huge laser sword sheathed at its side. Then, without so much as an "en garde", it attacked, swinging the sword while simultaneously opening up with the cannons.

Falcon once again uttered the inhuman wail that was his trademark, and moved to counter the preemptive strike. His beam cannons intercepted and nullified the incoming energy streams, and his saber clashed with Tempest's blade. "You won't win that easily, old student."

"Did I say I thought it would be easy? Sorry, sensei, but I gave up underestimating you after you cost me my heart." Huckebein grinned, swinging his weapon again. "Besides, wasn't it you that said 'The one who fights fair is the one who dies'?"

"Lesson Thirty-four," Falcon acknowledged. "I see you haven't forgotten it. Your point?" He parried another blow, then grunted as another got through his guard and cut the control wire connecting the lower right Death Blossom to the Raptor.

"The point," his former pupil replied, "is that I have more friends than you do. Boys?"

The remaining three GINNs from Nacht Jaeger converged on Falcon, and suddenly his problems were multiplied by four.

"Not good," he muttered. "Well, they don't call me the Falcon of Grimaldi for nothing..." His remaining three Death Blossoms moved to cover him, spiraling around to keep the GINNs busy while he focused on his target... who managed to get in another hit, leaving a gash in Raptor's right leg.

"You're losing your touch, Falcon," Huckebein observed. "I'm disappointed."

Falcon sneered. "Don't think it's over, Victor." He backed away, firing off a shot at a GINN's leg, and lifted his saber into position one more time. "One of us won't survive today!"

Mu looked at the confrontation taking place near the Nacht Jaeger, and shook his head. Falcon was clearly outnumbered, and Mu had his doubts about even that pilot succeeding against such odds. But he knew Falcon wouldn't thank him for intervening, no matter the circumstances.

Besides, he had his own problems. Kira was still engaged in a stalemate with the Aegis, and all of the advance force's mobile armors had been shot down, along with Law. Now that all that was left was himself, Bernard, Montgomery, and Archangel.

A moment later, another flash lit the heavens, and Mu cursed. Correction, he thought. No more Bernard.

He pulled around, dueling with a GINN, and cursed yet again as a shot took him in the main engines. Now he had no choice but to pull in his wired gunbarrels, because without their maneuvering thrusters, he couldn't even move. Time to go... blast it.

The Zero wrenched around, heading back toward the Archangel at the best speed remaining to it. "Archangel, this is La Flaga," Mu called. "I'm hit, and returning. Listen, there's no way we can win this; we have to get out of here, now."

"We're trying," Murrue replied. "I just got a message from Captain Koopman, telling us to save ourselves; but I don't see how we can."

"I do," Sophia suddenly interrupted. "Give Falcon some support; if he can finish whatever he's doing, he and Kira can hold them off long enough for us to escape."

"Falcon won't appreciate any help," Mu warned.

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant; I heard your com chatter. That's why I'm not suggesting we attack the CGUE. But I don't think he'll mind too much if we get a couple of those GINNs off his back."

"Point," he conceded. "But you'd better hurry; and whatever you do, watch where you're shooting! We can't afford any friendly fire here."

"I know."

Within Archangel, though, someone else had another plan, and Flay Allster made her way to the Bridge... with someone else in tow...

"You're not getting away from me, Victor," Falcon hissed, clashing blades with the CGUE. "Not today."

Tempest broke away, jetted upward (relative to his adversary), and opened fire with his cannons. "I didn't say anything about trying to get away, did I, Falcon?"

"No, you didn't. Fortunately." The one-eyed pilot smiled thinly. "I hope your will is written up." He took the cannon shot on his shield, and spared a moment of his attention for one of the other GINNs. It had tried to get in behind him; a mistake. All three surviving Death Blossoms targeted it, and blew away both arms and its head.

Unable to use any weapons, forward cameras gone, the GINN retreated, and the odds were lowered. Now, only two GINNs -one missing a foot- and Huckebein himself remained to challenge the Grimaldi Falcon.

He hadn't lost his touch.

They clashed blades again, and then both ducked aside as a linear cannon spat a projectile toward their vicinity. The huge shot caught the damaged GINN in the torso, annihilating it.

"Thought you could use a little help, Falcon," Murrue called.

"I hope we weren't being presumptuous," Sophia added.

"Thanks," Falcon grunted, and switched frequencies. "Well, Raven? The odds are even now; feel like giving up?"

Huckebein frowned. "Even? Since when is two on one considered even?"

"When the one trained the two," Falcon replied, and opened fire with a Death Blossom... producing a most unexpected result.

The remote weapons platform had been damaged by an earlier GINN attack, and now the energy surge destroyed it, taking one other emitter with it. Now Raptor was down to just one, leaving it vulnerable to attack.

The Falcon didn't even bother to curse. Instead, he began rapid, continuous fire with his last Death Blossom, and lunged toward Huckebein's DEEP Arms, saber swinging. "Do me a favor," he grunted, "and die."

Tempest did curse, when the energy blade cut off his machine's right arm. "I'll get you for that, Falcon!" he cried... and the battlefield froze as all ears listened to radio transmissions from the Archangel.

Falcon had been aware, in a very peripheral sense, of the commotion on the ship's Bridge; he'd gotten the vague impression that Flay was trying to use Lacus Clyne as a hostage. But until now, he'd ignored it. Because until now, it hadn't been going out on a general frequency.

Now it was, and all on the battlefield listened as Flay ranted. "Tell them," she shouted, apparently unaware that a link had finally been opened, "that if they don't stop firing on my father's ship, I will kill this girl!"

Huckebein snorted. "That girl thinks the life of Lacus Clyne means that much to me? Think again." Then, before Falcon could even think of stopping him, he spun his DEEP Arms around and targeted the Montgomery with his cannons. "Game over," he said indifferently, and fired.

Captain Augustus Koopman, Atlantic Federation Vice Foreign Minister George Allster, and the entire crew of the Earth Alliance Forces Nelson-class Escort Ship Montgomery vanished in a blaze of light and heat, while Flay Allster screamed in anguish.

Author's note: The Grimaldi Falcon has had his first run-in with his former pupil Victor Tempest since nearly killing him the year before, and now "Huckebein the Raven" had contributed to the destruction of the Eighth Fleet's advance force. Where will his confrontations with his former commander lead?

RVD, Sparky isn't Falcon's only ace in the hole, as will be revealed later; he will also be instrumental in another of his commander's plans, the beginnings of which will soon be hinted at.

This will not, obviously, be Falcon's final encounter with Victor Tempest. The Raven will be a nuisance for a long time to come…

Infinite Freedom, I believe I already replied to you via e-mail... I hope you liked the chapter.

Ominae, the idea may sound farfetched, but it's not the craziest notion I've heard, especially since Murrue will be one of the first people to begin to puzzle out the enigma that is Kenneth DiFalco…

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I'm glad you still approve. As for better reviews… well, it's good to know you're enjoying it, regardless.

Not so much to say this time, I guess. Just let me know what you thought of this chapter. -Solid Shark