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

Archangel, Officer's Lounge, February 2nd, C.E. 71

Falcon relaxed in a chair, feeling quite pleased with himself; though outwardly, he looked as emotionless as ever. We pulled it off, he thought to himself. Lacus is out, and my data is on its way to Sparky. He'll know what to do with it... and maybe, just maybe, we can stop Patrick's plan before it begins. If I can keep the Archangel safe...

The so-called "legged ship" was not yet a part of Falcon's grand design, but he strongly suspected she was going to play a key role in what he was attempting. Her crew was just too fundamentally decent to be Earth Forces, in his mind.

He snorted to himself then. Oh, sure, Mr. Deserted-From-ZAFT-'Cause-You-Were-Working-On-A-Weapon-Of-Mass-Destruction. They may be too decent to be with the Earth Forces, but they're also too decent to be with today's ZAFT.

The mission to return Lacus Clyne to ZAFT hands, while unsanctioned, had been a complete success, and they'd even made it safely back to the ship afterwards. To be sure, Kira had immediately been shuffled off to the Captain's office for a court martial, but Falcon had studied Earth Forces regulations in-depth. Kira was guilty of a few minor infractions, but Natarle Badgiruel was guilty of considerably worse. They couldn't punish him very severely -if at all- without having the pot call the kettle black. And just where, he thought idly, did that saying come from?

Falcon himself had avoided disciplinary action completely, of course. He had little doubt that Murrue and the other officers suspected exactly what role he'd played in the incident, but without evidence, there wasn't much they could do about it. Besides which, he strongly suspected the only one truly irritated by Lacus' rescue was Natarle; Murrue and Mu -and even, he grudgingly admitted, Sophia- were not likely to approve of the tactics used in the last battle.

The pilot drew his computer from a pocket of his trench coat, and brought up a secure file. Using a light pen, he crossed out one line, and smiled slightly to himself. One objective complete; now, if she can just get that data to Sparky, we'll be set... except that completion of this requires the completion of something else... solving the one problem keeping my nightmare from becoming real.

The compartment's hatch opened suddenly, and Falcon quickly slipped his computer back into his coat. "Thought I might find you here, Falcon," the visitor said.

"Is that a fact." It wasn't a question on the part of the one-eyed pilot. He and Mu La Flaga had fought against each other enough in months past that they could anticipate each other to some extent.

"You seem okay with the fact that Kira disobeyed orders and took Lacus Clyne to that ZAFT ship," Mu observed. "Thus forcing you to chase him, and then fight Le Creuset."

"True."

"It doesn't bother you that what he did could be considered giving aid and comfort to the enemy?"

"Nope."

Mu shook his head. "You're just totally unconcerned by the whole thing, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

This guy is not human, the Hawk thought. He's a computer trapped in a human body, and determined to prove it. "That little jaunt was your idea, wasn't it? It helped your objective along somehow."

Falcon turned to face his brother, slowly raising an eyebrow. "Well..." he said slowly. "I could tell you... but then I'd have to shoot you."

Mu snorted. "Yeah. This from the guy who hates guns."

"I got shot at an impressionable age," the ace said simply. "But remember Artemis. And if that doesn't convince you..." He gestured to his backpack, floating just above the deck, next to his chair. "Take a look."

The older man did so, and felt his own eyebrows go up. There was a bundle of disassembled components in there; they were obsolete, enough so that he didn't recognize the exact model, but he knew in general terms what it was. "A sniper rifle?"

"More to me than meets the eye, brother." Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "'Course, just because I know how to use it doesn't mean I'm any good with it."

"Hmm..." That comment at least made a certain amount of sense to Mu; the field-stripped rifle was an antique 7.62 millimeter PSG-1, from the twentieth A.D. That gave him the impression that Falcon carried it around as a collector's item, rather than a serious weapon. Makes more sense than the notion that he actually uses it, he thought. The pistol I'll buy; not a sniper rifle. Guess the kid has some human qualities after all, though sentimentality isn't the kind of thing I'd have expected. "You don't strike me as the sentimental type," he said aloud.

A shrug. "I have hidden depths."

"I bet."

"And it makes a handy club."

Mu, gauging the weight of the enormous rifle, decided to take the remark at face value. The thing was just under 150 centimeters from stock to muzzle, with a weight to match. "Must not be easy to use in zero-g, though."

"One reason I prefer swords. Besides, that gun wouldn't be much good after whacking someone over the head with it."

The Hawk shook his head. Either Falcon really didn't understand that his comments might be amusing -which would mean Sophia was right about his emotional capacity- or he had the world's driest delivery. He was beginning to suspect the latter.

"So," Falcon said, seeming unaware of his brother's thoughts. "How did Kira's hearing go? I gather Ensign Badgiruel was prosecution, while you were defense."

Mu waved a hand. "Well, frankly, I don't think Ensign Badgiruel's case held water. The regulation she was citing did not in any way apply to the stunt she pulled with Miss Clyne; in my view, it was just a weak attempt to defend a clear violation of the Ceres Accords. Unfortunately, her actions weren't what we were discussing, except in a peripheral way. Still, it helped that the Pink Princess wasn't actually a POW, which meant she wasn't technically a prisoner at all; so that brought it down to the matter of Kira's unauthorized launch in the Strike. Which," he added gravely, "is a proven fact. So, naturally, we..."

"Let him off with a warning." Falcon nodded. "Naturally."

Mu looked at him sidelong. "How'd you know that?"

The one-eyed pilot leaned back. "You forget, Mu, that I've known Murrue Ramius for a long time; she must have been pleased that Lacus was out of danger." He tilted his head. "By the way, just what did Sophia have to say about the whole thing?"

The Hawk snorted. "She didn't have anything to say about it. Claimed she flunked law classes at the academy, so she didn't have anything to contribute; then she went to the hangar to help Murdoch and his people fix Raptor. Last I heard, she was turning the air blue down there."

Falcon nodded sagely. "That's my sister. Normally, she's as polite and well-mannered as anybody, but when she gets her hands dirty like that, she turns into a prototypical grease monkey and makes you wonder if she's actually female." An almost-smile. "She lied to you, by the way."

Mu raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"I hacked her records the other day," he explained obliquely. "'Flunked', my foot; she sailed through law courses with flying colors and did a tour with Atlantic Federation JAG about five years ago."

The older pilot blinked. "You mean to tell me she's been with the Judge Advocate General, and claimed not to have anything to contribute? Why would she do that?"

"Because," Falcon said dryly, "all reports indicate she hated it with a passion. She likes working with things she can get her hands on, not debates on points of law and regulations. She's an engineer, and doesn't want to be anything else."

"And here I thought you two didn't understand each other."

"She doesn't understand me, Mu, not the other way around. Just because I don't like her very much right now doesn't mean I don't know how her mind works."

doesn't understand Mu, not the other way around. Just because I don't like her very much right now doesn't mean I don't know how her mind works."

"Apparently Captain Ramius is the only person on the ship who really gets along with her right now." Mu tilted his head. "So, what are you doing here, anyway? Gloating in your victory?"

"The best don't gloat," his brother informed him. "We don't need to. Besides, to gloat would be to admit some complicity in the matter, which, of course, is nonsense."

"Yeah. I'm sure." Mu jerked his head at the hatch. "C'mon, let's get something to eat, brother. I'm guessing you had quite the night, not to mention exchanging blows with Le Creuset; you must be hungry. Or are you going to tell me that the best don't need to eat?"

"I said I was the best, Mu," Falcon replied, standing. "Didn't say I was that arrogant... or stupid."

Vesalius, Lacus' Quarters

Just outside the hatch leading to the pop singer's quarters, a large man hesitated, thinking before finally knocking.

"Yes?" came the voice from within.

"It's me."

Instantly, the hatch opened. "Commander Cooper!" Lacus greeted. "I didn't realize you were onboard."

"I wasn't," Lance "Sparky" Cooper responded. "Not until about five minutes ago." He stepped through the hatch, glancing about as he did so, before his gaze finally settled on his charge. "You're looking none the worse for wear."

"It wasn't that bad," she told him. "You, on the other hand, look like you haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Sparky snorted. "You know what it's like being stuck at the Clyne Residence with your father when you're missing? Scary."

Sparky, at twenty, was three years older than his former commander. He was also far larger, at over 180 centimeters, with wide shoulders and powerful muscles. He, like his mentor, carried a katana through his belt -the mark of a Gray Demon- and bore a few scars from its use.

He also had a pronounced, continuous facial tic, which suggested an incident -or accident- involving large amounts of electricity in his past.

"So," he went on after a moment, "how did they treat you on the legged ship? I heard about the incident with the Eighth Fleet's advance force..."

Lacus smiled. "Oh, don't worry, Commander; it wasn't that bad. That was the only incident that could possibly be considered threatening, and mostly I was treated quite well. Especially by one young man... and Commander DiFalco."

Sparky flinched. He'd heard his former commander was on the Archangel, but he hadn't wanted to believe it. It meant either that Falcon's attempts at remaining out of the war -and thus safe from his past- had failed... or he had gone over to the enemy. But he wouldn't have, he reminded himself. Not after the Bloody Valentine. Falcon must have his reasons.

Lacus' voice brought him back to the present. "Commander, can I ask you something?"

He looked up. "Hmm?"

She chose her words carefully. "Can Commander DiFalco be trusted?"

"Absolutely," Sparky said firmly. "He left ZAFT for reasons of his own, sound -and vitally important- reasons. I don't know what he's doing with this 'legged ship', but I'm sure he has his reasons. Everything he does is for one goal: the safety and independence of the PLANTs." He tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

Lacus pulled the disc Falcon had given her from a tabletop. "He gave me this," she told her bodyguard. "He said you'd know what to do with it."

"Did he?" Sparky moved to the compartment's computer terminal, then thought better of it, pulled out a pocket computer, and inserted the disc into it (he didn't want whatever data his boss had sent to him in the ship's network; no telling who might gain access to it from there). "I wonder what the boss has up his sleeve this time..."

Lacus left the man to his work, understanding that something important was going on, even if she wasn't sure what. "What is it?"

Sparky frowned, pulling up a file. "I'm not sure... But if it's from Falcon, I'm willing to bet it'll be interesting. Let's just hope we have time to pull it off before the Le Creuset team takes care of the Archangel. We might not; I hear that hothead Joule, on the Gamow, is planning some kind of operation..."

Gamow, Bridge

"So..." Yzak murmured. "It looks like we finally get another shot at the legged ship."

Gamow had taken Vesalius' place as the ship chasing the Archangel, once the Nazca was forced to detour to offload Lacus Clyne. That suited Yzak just fine; he wanted the legged ship, very badly. It -and its pilots- had thwarted him too many times before; now it was time for payback.

had taken ' place as the ship chasing the once the was forced to detour to offload Lacus Clyne. That suited Yzak just fine; he wanted the legged ship, very badly. It -and its pilots- had thwarted him too many times before; now it was time for payback.

Nicol was far less sanguine. "You do realize," he pointed out, "that by the time we reach them, they'll only be ten minutes from rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet."

Dearka snorted. "That's plenty of time. Oh, we might not be able to take their entire mobile weapon complement in that time, but it should be enough to take out the ship itself. We have three G-weapons to their two, after all, and the mobile armor doesn't even really count on the modern battlefield."

"I suppose..." The green-haired pilot scratched his head. "Are we getting any assistance from the Nacht Jaeger?"

Yzak shook his head. "No, they're going all the way back to the PLANTs; Raptor's little assault left them with a single GINN and a badly-damaged CGUE. They'll be out of action for awhile now; just as well. I think Commander Huckebein is getting a little unstable, and we don't need that."

For once, both of his fellow pilots agreed with him. Huckebein was smart, but from what they could tell, his mental stability seemed to be eroding. There was no place for that on the battlefield.

Of course, the mention of Huckebein and Raptor brought something else to the forefront of Dearka's mind, and he winced, thinking of the one pilot he hoped wouldn't be killed in their attack. "You do realize," he said slowly, "that if we make even one mistake, Raptor will destroy us all."

Yzak snorted. "You still haven't convinced me that he's that good, Dearka. There are three of us, and only one of him. Besides, remember the pounding the Huckebein team gave him the other day; I doubt his machine is even combat-ready right now."

"Don't underestimate Falcon," Dearka warned. "He's an engineer himself, you know; by now, he'll know every centimeter of that mobile suit, and exactly how to repair it. He'll be out there... I know it."

"Then it'll be your job to keep him busy," the white-haired pilot told him. "The Grimaldi Falcon will hesitate to fire on you, and even if he doesn't, he'll try for disabling attacks. While he's doing that, I can keep the Strike busy, while Nicol handles the legged ship. We can do this."

"If everything goes according to plan," Nicol said quietly.

"Look," Dearka retorted, "all I'm saying is that if we're not careful, Falcon will shoot us all down. But if we are careful, I think we can do this, and maybe even bring Falcon in in the bargain."

"Too bad we don't have Commander Cooper with us to point out Commander DiFalco's weaknesses," Yzak mused. "That'd be a help."

Dearka glared at him. "One, I don't think ZAFT would order him to do that; conflict of interest, which isn't exactly conducive to proper flying. Two, we don't need him, because I know Falcon's weaknesses. I've known him for ten years, and we went through the academy together, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

Yzak thought about his own encounter with the Grimaldi Falcon, the previous year. It was at the ZAFT Academy, and it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences for him...

"C'mon, Joule, is that the best you can do?" Falcon's command CGUE hopped sideways, dodging a sword attack from Yzak's GINN.

Yzak reigned in his temper, reminding himself that irritating an instructor was not a good idea. "I'm just getting warmed up," he said through gritted teeth. "Just wait."

"Sorry, waiting ain't a good idea on the battlefield." Falcon spun around, dodged past Yzak's GINN, and opened fire.

Another minute of combat, and then Yzak's simulator cockpit went black.

Yzak gritted his teeth, remembering the incident. Not only had he lost, but it was his own temper that had done it. Ever since then, he'd done everything he could to reign in his own anger. He hadn't always succeeded, but his flying skill usually managed to compensate.

Dearka raised an eyebrow. "Hey, Yzak? You still there?"

The Duel's pilot instantly glared at him. "What kind of a question is that? Why don't we just get on with this, huh?"

"Sure, sure. So what's the plan?"

Yzak tapped commands into the display. "Okay, this is what we do. I'll distract -and hopefully destroy- the Strike. Nicol, you take the ship itself; with Mirage Colloid, you shouldn't have any trouble. And Dearka, you keep the Zero and DiFalco busy."

Both eyebrows went up this time. "Both of them? All by myself?" Dearka shook his head. "We are dealing with the Hawk of Endymion here, as well as the Grimaldi Falcon. I agree we should attack, but a little caution might be a good idea."

A sigh. "Listen, Dearka, the Moebius Zero doesn't have any weapons that can hurt you -unless you're stupid enough to sit still long enough for him to run you out of power- and DiFalco won't shoot to kill."

"Don't be so sure," Dearka warned. "I know Falcon better than you. He won't shoot to kill if he can avoid it, but for him, the mission comes before everything. If he really believes his actions are defending the PLANTs, he won't hesitate to blow me up if I cause him too much trouble." He sighed. "Still, this is our best option." He looked over at Nicol. "Right?"

Nicol sighed. "I still think this isn't the best idea... but I guess I'm outvoted. Let's go."

It wouldn't be long before Dearka and Falcon would be in direct conflict... again.

Archangel, Bridge

"Nearly at the rendezvous," Murrue said, sighing in relief. "Soon we'll be in friendly territory again, and we'll be able to relax."

"Yeah," Sophia agreed. "Maybe then, we'll be able to stop worrying about masked commanders and Falcon's ex-students. Frankly, I'm getting tired of them."

"Yeah."

Natarle didn't share their relief. "Don't slack off!" she snapped at the Bridge crew in general. "We're nearly to the Eighth Fleet, and that makes us more vulnerable than ever; fleets are conspicuous."

Falcon, facing the viewport, rolled his eye. I suppose you have a point, Ms. Spit and Polish, but if you keep a crew constantly at battle readiness, they'll burn out. It's a fact of life for soldiers.

"You have a point, Ensign," he said aloud, "but it all depends on the human factor, as well as the condition of the enemy's equipment. Nacht Jaeger we can count out for the time being; Mu and I reduced her effective mobile suit complement to a single GINN, and the ship herself probably needs repairs to her engine mountings."

Natarle glanced at him. "And just how would you know that, Commander?"

"I know Nacht Jaeger," he replied. "The Gray Demons -what was left of them- flew off her at Nova. The point, in this case, is that she has a peculiar harmonic resonance factor where the starboard engine pod joins with the rest of the hull; she's had it since she was built, and nobody's figured out how to fix it yet. So, the vibration from the engines themselves causes additional -and rapid- wear and tear, which means the ship has to return to port more often than her sister ships for maintenance. During combat maneuvers, it tends to be even worse, so..."

Murrue nodded. "Makes sense. Can't say I'm disappointed to hear it; just having a single Nazca and Laurasia after us has given us enough trouble."

"Agreed. Which brings me back to the original point about why we may or may not be attacked: I'm not sure just how badly Rau wants this ship. Under the circumstances, he may be content to let us go; even he would be taking a risk by going after the entire Eighth Fleet. At least, with GINNs or CGUEs." Falcon shrugged. "In any case, with Nacht Jaeger in need of repairs and resupply, and Vesalius ferrying Lacus Clyne to another ship for transport back to the PLANTs, the most we have to worry about is the Gamow. Fortunately, Laurasias are rather slower than a Nazca or an Archangel, so even if we are engaged, they'll have no more than ten minutes of combat time before the Fleet forces them to break off."

"Even they wouldn't be crazy enough to try it, in that case," Natarle mused.

The one-eyed pilot shook his head. "I'd tend to agree with you, except I think Yzak Joule may be calling the shots over there right now, and that particular pilot has the twin problems of oversized ego and underdeveloped emotional control. He might be stupid enough to make the attempt."

"Hmm..."

Archangel, Cafeteria Corridor

Kira walked toward the Archangel's cafeteria, feelings mixed. He was still under the effects of Flay's accusations, after her father's death, and now he had Athrun's assurance that the next time they met, there would be no mercy... on either side.

On the other hand, he'd also -with the help of Falcon- successfully returned Lacus Clyne to the hands of those who wouldn't attempt to use her as a hostage, the way Natarle Badgiruel had. That went a long way toward making him feel better, if not quite far enough.

But I -we- did it, he told himself. We got Lacus to Athrun, and nobody was even hurt. Though he strongly suspected Falcon would have been very pleased to blow Le Creuset to pieces. Still, he agreed to break off; and he probably wouldn't have been much happier than me if he had to fire on Athrun. He doesn't like fighting ZAFT any more than I do.

A good deal less, probably; of course, his mentor also had a good deal more on his shoulders, to hear him talk. Kira didn't understand exactly what was going on... but he'd decided it didn't matter. As soon as the reached the Eighth Fleet, he was leaving the Archangel, so Falcon mysterious "mission" would not longer be his problem.

The cafeteria hatch slid aside as he touched the controls, and he stepped in, to find his classmates, with the exception of Falcon, already there; the pilot's absence was, of course, hardly surprising, since his presence at the college had been more a cover than anything else.

What was a surprise was Flay's presence. She looked far calmer than the last time Kira had seen her; and she was in fact walked toward him.

"Kira?" she said tentatively.

"Uh... yeah, Flay?" Is she gonna...?

"I'm sorry," Flay said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "I shouldn't have said those things, yesterday. You have enough to worry about, just protecting this ship; I know you did your best to save my father's ship."

Kira nodded, surprised but also relieved. "It's okay, Flay. I know what you must have been going through, after what happened out there..." It was his turn to look away. "I'm just sorry I wasn't faster. I..."

"I just want you to know," she interrupted, "that when you're out there, I'll be behind you all the way. I'll be there for you, Kira." She finally met his eyes, with a strange look Kira didn't notice. "It's just important that we end this war as quickly as possible."

He smiled. "I agree."

Behind Flay, Mir's eyes narrowed. I notice you didn't say a word about Falcon, she thought to herself. And if anything, you treated him even worse. Doesn't he deserve an apology, too? She didn't expect Flay to actually apologize to Falcon in person -if anything, the pilot seemed to deliberately avoid her- but even a few words, here and now, would doubtless get back to him. Maybe I should talk to him myself; something's going on here, and I don't like it. This isn't like Flay at all.

She turned to Tolle. "I'm going to go find Falcon," she said quietly. "Something isn't right here, and I think he should know about it."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later." It didn't occur to him to be jealous at the thought of Mir going to see another guy alone; the notion of Falcon having sufficient warm feelings for that to be an issue was simply so preposterous it never even came to mind.

In a sense, Tolle was right. But more to the point, there was the story behind the photograph kept in Falcon's cockpit...

Archangel, Observation Room

As Mir had expected, Falcon was looking out at the stars when she found him, floating a meter above the deck. "Hello, Miriallia," he said without turning. "Something up?"

"It's Flay," she said bluntly.

He turned his head, fixing his Prussian blue eye on her. "Flay? What's she up to? And do I even want to know? Given what she said last time I was near her..."

"That's just it, Falcon. She turned up in the cafeteria a few minutes ago, and she seemed almost normal. She even spoke to Kira, apologizing to him... and it didn't feel right to me." Mir shook her head. "It didn't feel right at all. She recovered way too fast."

Falcon nodded, rubbing his eyepatch. "I agree. That's not like her at all; and not at all what I'd expect from a person who just lost her only remaining family." He raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you want me to do?"

She blinked. "Well, I... Actually, I just thought you should know what was going on. I don't know that there is anything you can do, at least until we figure out what's going on. I just think... that maybe you ought to keep an eye on the situation."

"Agreed." He turned back to the viewport, deep in thought. "I don't know if you know this -and I don't think he remembered it- but I had occasion to meet George Allster once."

"You did?"

"Yes. It was... last February. The fourth, it would have been, the day before the bombing that led to the war. I was there in Copernicus to help prepare security measures for Chairman Clyne's arrival the next day." He grimaced. "Good thing his shuttle was delayed, or else he'd have been killed, too, and the Alliance might have rolled right over us. Anyway, I met the Vice Minister that day, and I can't say he impressed me particularly. For one thing, he wasn't very fond of Coordinators; it didn't surprise me that his daughter seemed to be cut from the cloth. I'll say this for her, though: unlike her late father, Flay has a certain amount of courage. George Allster, on the other hand, was a man with no military sense who should never been with the advance force in the first place."

Mir tilted her head. "You were at Copernicus the day of the bombing?"

"Yes, I was."

"So..." She hesitated. "You'd have been in a position to know what really happened that day. Did the PLANTs really...?"

"No." Falcon's answer was unequivocal. "We had nothing to do with it; Chairman Clyne's shuttle malfunction truly was a fortunate coincidence, nothing more. If I had to guess, Blue Cosmos was behind it."

"But why kill the entire U.N. leadership...? Oh." Mir grimaced as she answered her own question. "Of course. The United Nations was looking for a peaceful resolution to the disagreement, which Blue Cosmos wouldn't have wanted... and killing them cleared the way for the group to exert greater influence on the sponsor nations."

He nodded. "Exactly. The classified reports I saw later in the year give me reason to believe Blue Cosmos also orchestrated the creation of the Earth Alliance; and that they exert a lot of influence on Alliance policy. And there's certainly no doubt that they were behind the use of nuclear weapons in the Bloody Valentine." Falcon closed his eye. "You know, it was the Bloody Valentine that drove Patrick to this madness. His wife-"

Before he could finish the sentence, alarms blared. "All hands to Level One Battlestations! Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations! Commander DiFalco to the hangar!"

Before the echoes died, Mir found herself alone with a drifting trench coat; Falcon himself was already gone.

Archangel, Bridge

"What's going on?" Murrue demanded.

"It's a Laurasia-class, Ma'am," Pal responded. "Looks to be the one that was chasing us before; which means it'll have G-weapons."

"The Gamow," Natarle murmured, remembering Falcon's identification of the ship. "I guess Commander DiFalco was right; the guy in charge over there is crazy."

"Not crazy," Murrue mused, "just hot-tempered. Mr. Tonomura, how long till rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet?"

"A little over ten minutes, Captain," Tonomura replied, consulting his displays.

"All right. Tell Lieutenant La Flaga, Kira, and Falcon to launch as soon as possible," she ordered. "We only need to hold them off for ten minutes; we can do it." We've come this far, they won't fail now...

Archangel, Hangar

Falcon, having changed into his flightsuit in record time, nodded to Mu as he swiftly entered his newly-repaired mobile suit. Here we go, he thought, attaching the power cable from his suit, adjusting the picture on his instrument panel, and closing his hatch. This should be the last battle with Dearka, at least; the Le Creuset team won't be following us to Earth... I think.

Guiding Raptor to the catapult, he noted Kira had finally reached the Strike. "There you are," he said, keying his radio. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it."

"Sorry," Kira responded. "I, uh... I was delayed."

"Huh. Well, no harm done. They haven't reached us yet." Falcon looked over at the Zero, being brought to the port catapult ahead of him. "Mu? You ready?"

"Yeah, Falcon," his brother replied. "Let's get 'em."

The Strike went first, into the starboard catapult. "Connected to catapult," Kira heard from the Bridge. "Aile Striker, stand by," Mir continued. "Good luck, Kira."

"I'll be fine," he said, surprised to realize he actually meant it. Of course, he thought, this time I won't be fighting Athrun... It would be only his second battle in the Strike since Heliopolis where the Aegis would not be involved.

"You're cleared for launch. Ready when you are, Strike."

His fingers tightened on the controls. "Kira here. Strike Gundam, launching!"

Mu was next, launching from the port catapult without nearly as much fuss. His place was quickly taken by the Raptor. "Raptor, connected to catapult," Mir called. "Stand by."

"Hey, Commander," Murdoch called. "You want anything extra this time?"

"Just give me a Midas Messer unit," Falcon replied. "Under the circumstances, a beam boomerang should be enough extra firepower."

"Roger that."

The Sword Striker's beam boomerang unit was lowered onto the Raptor's left shoulder, and Mir's voice came back on. "You're go for launch, Raptor. Be careful."

"Understood." Falcon paused, then smiled to himself, remembering Kira's name for the new machines. "This is the Grimaldi Falcon. Raptor Gundam, engaging."

The last transmission from the Bridge was something he suspected he wasn't supposed to overhear... which, knowing Mir, was probably the very reason she'd piped it down to him. "You'd better not scratch the paint again, Falcon," Sophia muttered, oblivious to the nearby microphone.

Falcon shook his head, and concentrated on his flying as he shot out of the catapult.

Earth Orbit, Near Eighth Fleet Rendezvous
Two trios of mobile weapons shot across space toward one another, each expecting this to be their final battle. One, led by Yzak Joule, was confident they could end it with the destruction of the Archangel. The other, with no clear leader -though Falcon, perhaps, came close, with the most battle experience- knew they merely had to hold off the aggressors long enough for the Eighth Fleet to arrive and put a stop to things.

"Hey, Falcon," Mu called. "How about we keep the Buster busy, eh?"

"Roger that." They didn't have to discuss the fact that Falcon didn't want to see Dearka dead; Mu's Zero wasn't capable of inflicting much damage on the Buster anyway, and Falcon's Raptor was optimized for pinpoint targeting. "Kira," the pilot called, "you keep the Duel busy. I know it may be a lot to ask, but Joule seems to have taken a disliking to you anyway. Can you do it?"

"Sure," Kira answered, sounding more confident than he felt. "But what about the Blitz?"

"I know the pilot," Falcon replied. "Nicol Amalfi isn't bad, but he's also got less experience than his fellows, as well as being more cautious; I think the Archangel can keep him busy."

"Roger that." Strike peeled off, heading for the Duel; which had already vectored toward him.

A moment later, Falcon's eye narrowed. "Tallyho," he called, using the age-old pilot's report. "Buster, Blitz, and Duel; let's go, Mu. Cover my six."

"I'm your wing," Mu acknowledged. "We got ten minutes to kill, Falcon; let's do this right."

"Agreed, amigo. Time to play decoy." Falcon switched frequencies, and opened his mouth.

Dearka winced, hearing that distinctive cry. So much for his faint hope that someone else might be piloting that machine this time. "Hello, Falcon," he called. "I guess there's no other way, huh?"

"No, amigo, there isn't." The single eye narrowed. "Give it your best, Dearka. I'd be disappointed if you took it easy on me."

No, actually, I think you'd be disappointed because I wasn't doing my duty, the Buster's pilot thought. There are some things about you that I will never understand; but I do understand my mission. His targeting scanner deployed, bringing the screen right in front of his eyes. "Forgive me," he whispered.

This time, the Death Blossoms remained dormant. Against a single opponent, whom Falcon did not want to kill, they would be unnecessary. Instead, he drew a single beam saber, while Mu deployed his wired gunbarrels.

Dearka began the overture, a twin barrage from his rifles. The gun launcher shot was taken by Raptor's shield, but the arcing green bolt was batted back at the Buster by the energy blade, forcing him to dodge.

The symphony of combat had begun anew.

Meanwhile, Strike and Duel closed rapidly. "I've got you this time, Strike," Yzak whispered, a cold smile on his face. "You're not getting away today."

Watching him, beam rifle out and ready, Kira's eyes narrowed. "The Duel..." Why is it always him? he wondered. Well, this is the last time...

The two machines engaged each other simultaneously, a competitive duet of brilliant green fire, shattering into sparkles upon each other's shields.

Urgh! Yzak cursed to himself. He's gotten better since last time! Well, it won't be enough... He circled the Strike, arming his rifle-mounted grenade launcher. "Gotcha now!" He fired, sending the explosive sailing across the abyss toward its destiny.

Yzak cursed to himself. He circled the Strike, arming his rifle-mounted grenade launcher. "Gotcha now!" He fired, sending the explosive sailing across the abyss toward its destiny.

Kira saw it, and did two things at once. His Igelstellungs erupted, providing a harmless but distracting nuisance to keep his enemy busy, and sent a jade stiletto of energy into the grenade, detonating it prematurely. You won't get me that easy, Duel. Not today. I've got too much to protect.

Strike returned fire, bolts forcing Duel to dance around; Yzak suddenly felt a burning envy of the Raptor's pilot, who was swatting aside beams with seeming effortlessness. He wasn't good enough to try that himself, much to his fury.

He could, however, force the Strike pilot to fight on his terms...

Duel swept out a beam saber of his own, igniting a blade of frozen fire. "Come and get it, Strike!"

Kira hissed, and drew his own weapon. "I won't be defeated here!" Fire met fire, locking the two warriors in a battle of wills, each unwilling to retreat from the clash.

Archangel, Bridge

The Archangel shuddered as a blast from the Gamow's main guns hit them, and Sophia cursed. "Those ZAFT weapons are better than I thought," she hissed. "If we didn't have laminated armor, we'd already be dead."

"It's worse," Natarle informed her. "We're reading the Blitz approaching, and -Wait a second." She looked over Tonomura's shoulder just in time to see the Blitz vanish from their screens. "We've lost the Blitz, Captain!"

"Mirage Colloid," Murrue said grimly. "Just like at Artemis. It has its weaknesses, though."

Sophia straightened. "Of course! CIC, switch over to anti-air shrapnel warheads, and disengage Igelstellung auto-tracking. Barrage fire will keep him busy."

"Roger." Natarle repeated the commands, and nodded to herself. Mirage Colloid's weakness was power: it used so much that while it was in use, Phase-shift had to be deactivated. With Phase-shift down, even a G-weapon became vulnerable to kinetic weapons.

While CIC was busy doing that, Murrue was barking out other orders. "Starboard forty degrees, right roll twenty degrees," she snapped. "We have to lose them."

As Neumann complied, bringing the powerful ship around, Sophia looked out over the battle between mobile weapons. "They seem to be holding their own out there," she observed. "Duel and Strike seem to be in something of a stalemate, but I think Falcon and the Lieutenant have the Buster under control."

She winced, seeing the silent cacophony of multiple explosions, before realizing Raptor had just used its Igelstellungs to detonate the warheads prematurely.

Earth Orbit, Near Eighth Fleet Rendezvous
Mu shook his head, watching the missiles explode harmlessly. "Look, Falcon," he called, spitting fast-moving projectiles from his gunbarrels, "you can't keep this up. He's the enemy , so shoot him!"

"Think I haven't been trying?" Falcon grunted, pirouetting around to Buster's rear. "Trouble is, Dearka knows how I fight. That makes things just a little difficult, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, watch out!"

Dearka had gotten his machine reoriented faster than Falcon had expected was possible, and swung his weapons together, forming the hyper-impulse rifle. Try this, "amigo".

Falcon saw it, and tried to do several things at once. His Igelstellungs fired distracting bursts, his Death Blossoms spiraled out to spit beams of green death at Buster's limbs, his cannons fired larger rods of energy at Buster's head, and his beam saber lashed out... all while he attempted evasive maneuvers.

The counterattack was partially successful. Dearka was doing some maneuvering of his own, so the cannons missed his head, instead slagging one of his missile pods; the Death Blossoms missed completely, their fire converging on a patch of empty space. It was, ironically, the CIWS fire that saved Falcon's Gundam; a burst struck a glancing blow to the Buster's weapon, knocking it just barely out of alignment.

It was not quite enough to fully spare Raptor from the fury of the enormous energy discharge.

Half of the machine's head was blown away, while the rest of the beam was intercepted by the saber. The scarlet fire stopped the blast... but in the process, the saber's emitter burned out, rendering the weapon useless.

Falcon cursed quietly at the damage, then louder as one of his displays exploded in his face. He ducked in time to save his faceplate, but a burning fragment hit his shoulder, searing through the flightsuit and into his flesh. "Son-of-a-!"

Mu instantly opened fire, hitting the rear half of Dearka's combined weapon and knocking the gun launcher out of commission entirely. "Falcon!" he shouted, putting out a steady barrage. "Are you alright?"

Falcon coughed, batting smoke out of his field of view. "Singed, but otherwise okay," he replied, surveying the damage. "Raptor's not so lucky; half my forward camera coverage is gone, along with half my targeting, and one beam saber. But I'm still functional."

The Hawk sighed, relieved. "Good. Can you still fight?"

"Yeah." Raptor discarded the burned-out melee weapon -Archangel had plenty of spares- and reached over its left shoulder for the remaining weapon. "Death Blossoms are out of the question -because of targeting problems and because I'm running a little low on power- and I wouldn't want to try the cannons... but I don't need them, anyway." Scarlet flame sprouted from his hand once more, and Falcon's eye narrowed. "I'm still in the game."

In Buster's cockpit, Dearka swallowed. "Oops." He'd forgotten Falcon was so good.

He'd forgotten the lesson of Jachin, Endymion, and Nova. The lesson of Artemis. The lesson that the Falcon of Grimaldi... was not so easily dealt with.

Kira and Yzak were still dueling, blades clashing again and again in a furious stalemate. Neither of them could get the upper hand... but they were both accomplishing their objective: keep each other busy.

Yzak twirled his blade, brought it around, and sliced upward in a diagonal cut, trying to open the Strike from left hip to right shoulder; just incidentally, the blow would have bisected the cockpit, in the process.

Kira wasn't about to allow that. His own saber came up and slid along the Duel's blade, forcing it aside, while Strike's left hand reached back and drew its second blade. With it in hand, he trapped Duel's weapon, forcing it even further away.

Yzak cursed. This won't do me any good like this! He released his grip on the weapon, allowing it to drift away into space, and made use of the instant in which Strike's weapons were still occupied. "Take this!"

Duel's shield came up, catching Strike in the chin and forcing it back. That gave the ZAFT pilot time to reach for his other beam saber, and frozen fire ignited in his hand again.

This isn't good, Kira thought, bringing both of his weapons up to a guard position. We can't keep this up forever... He glanced at the timer on his display. Just three more minutes, he read, and relaxed slightly. We can do it that long...

Kira thought, bringing both of his weapons up to a guard position. He glanced at the timer on his display. he read, and relaxed slightly.

The two machines came together again, Strike having the advantage in offense, Duel's shield providing extra defense. Sabers clashed as they whirled around each other, pounding away, heedless of gradually-decreasing power levels.

Archangel, Bridge

"This is crazy," Sophia whispered. "This is absolutely insane."

Watching the battles taking place between the mobile weapons, she began to truly appreciate for the first time the skill required to pilot even a mobile armor, let alone a mobile suit. She knew she couldn't hope to keep up with the maneuvers the intact machines were pulling, let alone Falcon's continued assaults in the face of what others would consider crippling blows to his machine.

Archangel was patched into Falcon's communications, and they all heard the next exchange between Raptor and Buster. "Come on, Falcon!" Dearka called, firing a salvo from his remaining missile pod. "You can still come back to ZAFT, if you'll just stop this!"

"No!" Falcon responded, lunging forward. "Not with GENESIS on the horizon!"

Sophia frowned. What the devil is 'Genesis'?

"I still don't know what you're talking about," Dearka grunted, raising Buster's gun launcher to protect its head. The tactic worked, though it cost him the gun. "What's GENESIS?"

"You don't wanna know, amigo."

The black-haired lieutenant's attention was torn from the mini-battle by another shudder, coursing through the ship. This one was different, though. It felt closer... like at the base of the ship's superstructure. "What was that?" she demanded.

Natarle cursed. "It's the Blitz! It got past our defenses; now he's standing on the ship!"

Murrue clung grimly to her command chair. "Another few hits from that position, and we're done for." It can't end this way. Not after coming so far...

Mir punched buttons on her console, signaling the Strike. "Kira, get over here! The Blitz is shooting the Bridge; another couple of hits-!"

She wasn't even sure if Kira heard it... but he did.

Earth Orbit, Near Eighth Fleet Rendezvous
Kira did indeed hear the call, just as Falcon finished disarming the Buster with a thrown beam boomerang to the beam rifle and an adroit thrust to the missile pod. "The Archangel!"

The Duel was coming at him again, but time seemed to freeze for an instant. Kira remembered a little girl, just before the battle; a screaming Flay, watching her father die... and the same Flay, telling that little girl that everything would be okay, because Kira was out there protecting them.

In his mind, an amethyst seed slowly fell, and burst.

Amethyst eyes opened, wide and clear, and Strike boosted to one side, slipping around and behind Duel's attack. "What?" Yzak exclaimed, unable to believe his quarry had dodged the attack. That... that can't be...

Kira wasn't done yet. His beam sabers flashed out, one getting in behind the shield and destroying its handle -along with part of the hand holding it- while the other cut a deep gash into Duel's torso. Not today, he thought with calm clarity. You won't destroy the Archangel as long as I'm here!

Falcon, Mu, and Dearka all stopped what they were doing to watch as the Strike sliced across space toward the Archangel, looking almost like an avenging -or defending- angel, with swords of fire in either hand, and an absolute purity of purpose.

Falcon shook himself. Stop the poetic nonsense, he griped at himself. You know what's really going here. In fact, unlike anyone else on this battlefield, he knew exactly what was happening... and knew that Nicol Amalfi was about to get hurt. So Kira is a bearer of the SEED... Incredible...

Nicol saw the Strike coming, and just had time to boost backwards, away from the Archangel's hull, before Kira slammed a knee into the Blitz. One of his sabers went spiraling off into space, but the other swept around in a flaming arc and cut the Trikeros in half. "Go away!"

Crying out in surprise and sudden fear, Nicol fell away, out of the fight... while Yzak came back for one more try. "Now I've got you!" His beam saber flashed down.

Kira's head whipped around, spotting the attack in plenty of time. I don't think so... His remaining, left-hand saber knocked Yzak's aside, and Strike's right hand darted to its hip armor. Out came the Armor Schneider, a weapon which was useless against Phase-shift.

But Duel already had a weak spot, gouged by Kira's fiery weapon.

Yzak's displays exploded into a shower of fragments as the enormous switchblade drove into Duel's torso; one chunk slammed into his faceplate, shattering it. He shrieked as one sharp piece cut into his face. "Aaahhh!"

Duel fell away from its intended victor, hunter turned shockingly into hunted, and was caught by the Buster and Blitz. "We have to get out of here," Dearka said, breath coming in harsh gasps. "The enemy fleet's coming."

"Yeah," Nicol agreed, and turned his attention back to the Duel. "Yzak? Yzak, can you hear me?"

The only response at first was an anguished sound; then, "It burns, it burns, it burns!"

Falcon closed down his beam saber. "I think we won this round, Mu."

The Zero's gunbarrels locked back into place. "Yeah. Looks that way." Mu looked over at the Strike. "Hey, kid. You were terrific."

Kira shook his head, trying to clear; he had no idea what had just happened to him. "Lieutenant...?"

"No..." the Hawk corrected himself. "No, you're more than that. That was... unbelievable."

The younger pilot closed his eyes, weary beyond words. "Not really."

Oh, yes it was, Falcon thought. And one day, you may even understand just how rare your gift is...

Falcon thought.

His radio made a popping noise as Archangel established contact. "Well done, you three," Murrue said gratefully. "The Eighth Fleet is here; come back, and get some rest. It's over."

"Roger that," the one-eyed pilot answered; but inwardly, his thoughts were far different. No, Murrue, it's not over. No... this is only the beginning...

Author's note: Archangel has broken through to the Eighth Fleet, and Kira's Berserker abilities have surfaced… and Falcon seems to know something about it. Why?

Soon, Falcon's connection with Admiral Halberton will be explained, and his status among the crew will become official…

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I certainly do intend to go through the entire timeline; I wouldn't know where to stop otherwise, for one thing. And yes, it's taken a lot of time and planning; and time to plan. I had this underway long before I finished posting Brothers in Arms, so I've got the major twists all figured out. As you've seen from this chapter, it won't be going entirely according to canon; and soon, it'll start diverging even more, though I'll continue to follow the basic events.

NukeDawg, it's more a matter of how Falcon will interfere with Flay's plans, not the other way around. You'll see what I mean soon enough.

Ominae, Natarle might want to court martial Falcon, but as is pointed out in this chapter, they can't exactly pin anything on him. He only launched in pursuit of the Strike, whatever his actual reasons may have been. Now, the Board of Inquiry sequence from Phase 33... that could be… interesting, assuming I can manage to get there before I have to start A Call to Arms.

Infinite Freedom, the CGUE won't play much of a role for the time being; for one thing, there's nobody else on the Archangel who can even fly the thing. Rest assured, though, that it will have its moment of glory, much later…

As to your other question, no, that's not necessary.

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, as is noted above, it's not Flay that'll be interfering with Falcon, but rather Falcon intervening -carefully- in certain scenes that irritated me in the anime. I still don't have quite all the details worked out, but suffice to say events will go slightly different this time around.

Deathzealot, I'm assuming you tried to include a web address in your review; however, as I've noted at least three times before, those don't seem to show up. No matter, though, a couple of other people provided the information. Thanks anyway.

Ninofchaos, thanks; combined with information from another source, I've now tracked down the song in question (I think). Hope you liked the chapter.

Centurious, good to hear. I'll be watching for it; in the meantime, I trust this chapter did not disappoint.

Warp Ligia Obscura, in my experience the best way to make an original character fit in is to give him/her a detailed back story, preferably involving some of the canon characters. Kevin Walker, for example, had prior connections to quite a few of the civilians and ZAFT soldiers, while Falcon knows most of the featured ZAFT personnel and a couple of individuals within the Earth Forces. So yeah, I try to insert my characters as smoothly as possible.

As to controllers… Hm. I suppose you must be referring to the newer, smaller X Box controllers, because I have, at various times, handled all three major console controllers, and found the Dual Shock and its successor to be the most comfortable. Of course, I'm sure it's also largely a matter of opinion; it may just be that, after eight years, I'm used to Playstation peripherals.

I seem to have covered everything. Now to go see if the Internet will cooperate long enough for me to post this; been giving me fits the last couple days. -Solid Shark