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

Archangel, Bridge

At long last, after over two weeks on the run from shattered Heliopolis, the Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship Archangel made rendezvous with a friendly fleet, cruising sedately amidst the Eighth Fleet's ships.

"Bring us around," Murrue ordered, "and match velocity with the flagship."

"Yes, Ma'am," Neumann acknowledged. As he carried out the orders, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Are you sure we should be flying alongside the Menelaos?"

She smiled. "Admiral Halberton's orders, Chief. He probably wants a closer look at the ship... if only to reassure himself that we really did make it here!"

"That sounds like Lewis Halberton, all right," Falcon murmured. He was in his usual spot, drifting near the starboard side of the Bridge's forward viewport. "Probably wants to make sure he doesn't lose another bet."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "So you do know the Admiral. It sounded like it, when you spoke to Captain Koopman, but I wasn't sure."

The pilot nodded. "Yeah, I know him. We-"

"Signal from Menelaos, Ma'am," Pal interrupted; with Kuzzey off-duty, he was filling in at Communications. "A message directly from Admiral Halberton."

She turned. "What is it? More instructions?"

He hesitated. "Something like that, Ma'am. His exact words are, 'Tell that braggart to make sure he's in the hangar when I arrive; I want to have a little chat with him over a small wager'." Pal scratched his head. "Does that mean anything to you, Ma'am?"

"No... but I suspect it means something to someone else here." Murrue turned to Falcon. "That message was meant for you, wasn't it?"

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. "I imagine he does want a word with me, and I'll be pleased to oblige. I just hope he has his pocketbook handy."

Natarle shook her head. "Just when I think I've got you figured out, Commander, it turns out you're acquainted with one of our flag officers. Are you sure you were with ZAFT?"

"That was peacetime, Ensign," Falcon replied. "Even the blockade wasn't truly a wartime situation; and it so happens the good Admiral isn't one of those who believes Coordinators to be inherently evil."

"That's true," Murrue agreed. She smiled at the ace. "Now, 'braggart', I suppose you should probably get ready for the Admiral's arrival, hm?"

He waved a hand. "I'll be along. Besides, the man would be astonished if I turned up without a trench coat over my uniform; it would violate all tradition."

At the rear of the Bridge, Sophia put a hand over her eyes. I don't believe this. My brother, who used to be a ZAFT pilot, knows a high-ranking Earth Forces officer I know only by reputation. And, to top it all off, he cracks a joke... and still maintains that irritating mask-look, which means I'm not even sure if it was a joke in the first place!

Needless to say, the perpetual poker face was beginning to grate on her nerves. Extremely.

Murrue chuckled to herself at the silent, invisible byplay (she knew both DiFalcos well enough to sense what was going on), and pushed away from her chair. "Well, I at least had better get going; I have something to take care of before the Admiral arrives. Please hold the fort while I'm gone," she added to the Bridge at large.

Natarle followed her into the elevator. "Captain?"

"Yes, Natarle?" What does she want now?

"It's about the Strike, Captain," the ensign said, confirming her Captain's suspicions. "Do you have any plans for it?"

Murrue blinked. "Plans? What do you mean?"

"Well, Captain, the entire ship knows it by now: it was only because of that mobile suit's incredible capabilities that we made it this far, and those capabilities were used to their fullest only by him." By her tone, it was obvious who "he" was. "Are you letting him go, too?"

The Captain sighed; she'd had a feeling her XO was leading up to that. "Look, Natarle," she began, "it wasn't only the Strike that protected us out there. Kira did a wonderful job, probably more than Falcon did, even, but we are hardly helpless without him. The Raptor-"

"The Raptor, in four engagements, has suffered heavy damage in two," Natarle pointed out. "Hardly an inspiring record."

"Six engagements," Murrue corrected. "He was also involved in Lieutenant La Flaga's battle with Le Creuset's CGUE in Heliopolis; although, since his primary contribution there was to help knock the Zero out of the fight, I'll concede that point. And, of course, the Artemis escape was a very brief encounter. However, in the first instance, Falcon was faced with overwhelming odds, as well as the sudden shock -and fury- at facing a former student of his, whom he'd 'killed' when the student in question tried to kill him. The second time, he was facing the Buster, which, as you'll recall, is piloted by Falcon's best friend, who would naturally know how Falcon flies, thus giving him an advantage other pilots would not have."

The elevator cam to a stop, and the hatch slid open. "Still, Captain," Natarle persisted as they exited, "that last engagement shows just how good a pilot Kira Yamato is; even Commander DiFalco admits that was beyond his own capabilities." Actually, Murrue recalled, Falcon had made a cryptic comment about it being beyond his normal capabilities, but she let it pass. "His skills are invaluable to us!"

The Captain sighed. "I understand what you're to say Natarle, believe me. But the fact remains that Kira Yamato is not an Earth Forces soldier. He's a civilian, and the moment he leaves this ship, we will no longer have any authority over his whatsoever." She pushed off the bulkhead, heading down another corridor.

"But-" Natarle was left standing there alone, once again in fundamental disagreement with her superior.

Archangel, Hangar

The mechanics were clustered around the Moebius Zero, which had taken a stray hit during Falcon's battle with the Buster; they wanted the job finished quickly, given the workload they had waiting for them in another part of the hangar.

Mu was dozing above his mobile armor, still a little tired from the preceding battle, when Kira popped out of the hatch (he'd been doing work in the cockpit, mostly calibrations on the software to match the hardware repairs). "We've already made it to the rendezvous," he said plaintively, "so would somebody tell me what the hurry is?"

The Hawk jerked awake. "I just don't like it when it's damaged," he explained, once he'd recovered his wits. "Besides, the sooner we take care of this, the sooner Murdoch and his people can get to fixing the Raptor." He nodded at the Strike's near-duplicate, which had taken heavy damage to its cameras and fire control, when a hit blew away half its head and burned out a beam saber.

"Yeah," Murdoch agreed, drifting toward them. "That'll take us awhile to fix; and besides, until then our only mobile defenses will be the Eighth Fleet's rookies and the Lieutenant here."

"I guess..." Kira said dubiously. "But what about the Strike? Should we really be leaving it as is?"

Mu shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it, really; good point, though. On the other hand, I'm not so sure we should make any changes to it, since that would reduce its performance."

"Well, then," a new voice cut in, "we'll just have to hope we find someone capable of piloting it in its current condition. Someone else, I should say, since Falcon is more or less permanently assigned to the Raptor."

Kira looked up to see Murrue approaching. "Uh, Captain?" What's she doing here?

"Well, this is a surprise," Mu commented. "To what do we owe the honor, Ma'am? I'm sure you have a million other things you should be taking care of that are more important than us flyboys."

She smiled. "Not really; until the Admiral arrives, there really isn't much for me to do. Besides, I think it is important for me to have a talk with Kira, here."

Kira looked at her, eyes narrow. "Huh?"

The smile widened. "Oh, don't look so suspicious, Kira; though I can't really say that I blame you." Not after Heliopolis, and Artemis, and everything else that's happened...

Soon, they stood on the catwalk in front of the dormant Strike. "It's been so hectic since Heliopolis that I haven't had much time away from command," Murrue began, "so I could never really find the time to have a proper talk with you. Since you're going to be leaving soon, I decided to make time."

"It has been busy," Kira agreed. "But I've been okay."

"No, you haven't," she contradicted. "I put a lot on your shoulders, more than I should have; yet you gave it your all, and for that, I can't thank you enough."

He felt uncomfortable, never having been in such a position before. "It was nothing, really," he insisted. "Besides, Falcon did more than me."

Murrue shook her head with a slight smile. "Falcon would be the first to admit that his main contribution to our journey was to keep Buster busy and make sure the mechanics had plenty of work," she said dryly. "And he says that he'd never seen anything like what you did in that last engagement."

"It just... well... happened, Captain," Kira said, looking up at the Strike's face. "I did what I had to do, that's all."

"Yet you could have refused to fly at all, Kira," she pointed out. "You fought to protect your friends, yes; but you didn't have to, which makes it all the more impressive. You fought against your own people..."

"No," he corrected. "I fought for my people; my genes don't dictate who my people are, Captain. Falcon told me that, and he's right."

"But it still couldn't have been easy," she persisted.

"No..." he admitted, thinking of Athrun. "It wasn't."

"But you did it anyway; and for that, I'm truly grateful. We all are, even if the others wouldn't say it to your face." Murrue actually bowed.

Feeling even more uncomfortable, Kira stammered, "Uh, it's okay, Captain, really."

She straightened. "Under the circumstances, I imagine things will be just as hectic down on Earth," she said, "but I wish you the best of luck. We will forever be in your debt, Kira."

Murrue extended a hand, and, after a moment's hesitation, Kira took it. "I hope we meet again someday," he said quietly.

"So do I, Kira. And if we both survive, I'm sure we will."

Two hours later, the launch ferrying Rear Admiral Lewis C. Halberton from the Agamemnon-class Menelaos slid easily through the port flight deck's hatch, coming to a rest in the hangar, before the assembled crew of the Archangel.

It had barely stopped when the hatch opened, permitting the exit of the Admiral himself, followed by his flag captain from Menelaos, Eric Hoffman. He was met by salutes from the Archangel's officers, which he returned. "It's good to see you all alive," he said with feeling. "When we heard about Heliopolis, we thought it was all over."

Murrue smiled. "It'll take more than that to sink the Archangel, Admiral."

"So it would seem." Halberton's gaze wandered over the crew. "So. Who all do we have here?"

Natarle was the first to step forward. "I'm Ensign Natarle Badgiruel, Sir, CIC and Archangel's acting executive officer."

Mu brought up his hand next. "Lieutenant Mu La Flaga, of the Seventh Orbital Fleet, Admiral; I came aboard after the ship I was assigned to was shot down, at Heliopolis."

Halberton shook his head. "Yes, I heard about that. A pity, but I think we were all fortunate you ended up on the Archangel."

"Yes, we were," Murrue agreed.

Sophia rounded out the group, greeting the admiral with a salute. "Lieutenant Sophia DiFalco, Sir. I was involved in the G-weapon project; specifically, design of the X107 Raptor, one of the two units we retained possession of."

Halberton nodded. "Yes, I remember." He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid, though, that I have some bad news for you, Lieutenant. Your parents... never made it to the shelters. At least, they were not aboard any of the lifeboats that made it to Earth."

She swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I... guess I... already knew."

The admiral put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he said sincerely. "They should never have been caught up in this conflict; and that's why we're trying to end it as quickly as we can. I know it's not much consolation, but your work is playing a not inconsiderable part in bringing that about."

"Thank you, sir."

Now Halberton looked at the one person who was not among the officers, volunteers, or enlisted personnel, and he smiled broadly. "Well, well, well... Kenneth DiFalco, in the flesh. Captain Koopman's final message caught me by surprise, I'll admit; and you probably intended it to. But it's good to see you Falcon, very good. It's been far too long."

Falcon nodded. "Sure has, Admiral. Not since the war started."

"Come now, no need to be so formal; we first met when I was only a commander, like yourself."

Murrue started. "You've known Falcon that long, Admiral? I thought-"

"That we'd met during the blockade?" Halberton smiled. "No, Lieutenant, we actually met a year before that, when Falcon was on one of his -rare- visits to Earth. Still hate planets, Falcon?"

The one-eyed pilot nodded. "I was born and bred in space, Lewis. Planets are just not my preference."

Sophia, in the midst of her grief -which was not as bad as it might have been, since she'd been expecting it for weeks- managed to feel another twinge of annoyance. Is he on a first-name basis with everybody?

"We have much to discuss, Lewis," Falcon was saying, "as you might imagine."

Halberton nodded. "I'm sure we do, old friend. The fact that you come here in a uniform other than that which you wore last time I saw you tells me things have changed... and that you're probably looking for a job. We'll talk about it later." His eyes came to rest on the small group in blue to the rear of the hangar. "So, who do we have over here?"

Murrue turned to follow his gaze. "These are the students from Heliopolis that I mentioned in my report to Captain Koopman, sir. A few hours after Heliopolis' collapse, they volunteered to assist with the operation of the ship, and their aid has been invaluable. Without them, we wouldn't have made it this far, Admiral."

"I see." The Admiral moved to stand in front of them, and he sized them up. "Well, it's good to see youth still believes itself to be invincible. Without such courage, we'd have no one to fight the war; I thank you all for helping to get the Archangel this far. The Earth Forces owe you all a debt of gratitude. Oh yes," he added, remembering what he'd said earlier to Sophia, "we've checked with Orb regarding the survivors of Heliopolis, and confirmed that your families are all safe and sound."

There was general cheer among the students; but before Halberton could say more, Hoffman leaned forward to whisper something. "Uh, sir, we don't have much time..."

"Right," the Admiral answered. "Well, duty calls; but later, I'd like to have a talk with you all. Until then..." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Lieutenant Ramius, if you, your officers, and Commander DiFalco will come with me, I believe we have a number of important matters to discuss."

Vesalius, Bridge

Having finally returned to their primary mission -hunting down the so-called "legged-ship"- Ades and Le Creuset stared down at the Bridge's tactical display, attempting to divine the enemy's intentions... and ways to counter them.

"I'd have expected them to head to their lunar headquarters," Rau mused, "but on further reflection it appears they'll be going straight to Earth itself. Hm; interesting change of plans."

"From their trajectory, I'd say they intend to head for Alaska," Ades agreed. "Earth Alliance Headquarters; they must be desperate to get their hands on that ship and its mobile suit."

"More importantly, perhaps, its battle data; with that, they can proceed to mass-production." Le Creuset stroked his chin. "You know, I think I'd rather take them out while they're still in our own background. What say you?"

His flag captain nodded slowly. "Well, the Ziegler has six GINNs; we have five machines, including the Aegis. And the Gamow can send out the Buster, Blitz... and Commander Huckebein." Ades didn't bother to conceal the disgust he felt at that addition.

Rau nodded sympathetically. "I know, Ades. Ironically, while the one thing Falcon and Huckebein agree on is their mutual distaste for me, one of the few things Falcon and I agree on is that Victor Tempest is less than completely sane. If I had my way, he'd be nowhere near this operation; failing that, I'd rather he was flying off Nacht Jaeger, instead of hitching a ride on one of my ships. Unfortunately, his ship is still getting the starboard engine pod repaired, and Captain Kreitzman has to break in an almost completely new batch of pilots and mobile suits. Even the pilots that survived Falcon's attack needed their machines replaced; cheaper than repairing them." He grimaced. "So, regrettably, we're stuck with him. The only silver lining I see is that Falcon may actually succeed in killing him this time."

"Unless we capture him first."

The masked commander looked at him almost pityingly. "Ades, you've met the man. Do you actually believe we'll succeed in taking him out of the fight? I don't."

"No, sir," Ades said reluctantly. "Neither do I."

"Cheer up, Ades. At least we'll be able to pound the Eighth Fleet into scrap."

Archangel, Captain's Office

For the duration of his visit aboard Archangel, Halberton had appropriated Murrue's office, and he now sat behind the desk as they hashed out the details of the ship's operations for the near future.

"First," the Admiral began, "I should mention that you're all being promoted. It's not official yet, but it will be as of your arrival on Earth."

The four official officers of the crew saluted with a simultaneous precision that would have done any drill instructor proud. "Thank you, sir!"

Halberton waved a hand. "You deserve it, after making it so far under such conditions. This brings me to my next point." He turned to Falcon. "May I assume, Falcon, that you came this far with the intention of enlisting in the Earth Forces?"

"You may," the pilot affirmed calmly. "However, there are certain conditions; and if you can't accept them, I'll leave the ship and find my own way to influence the war." When the Admiral nodded for him to continue, he went on, "First, I refuse to divulge any information whatsoever that may lead to a successful invasion of the homeland; general tactical and strategic data is one thing, but my mission remains the preservation of the PLANTs. Second, I will not shoot to kill against ZAFT pilots unless the situation leaves me with no other option." He paused. "There are, however, two exceptions. If you want me to kill Rau Le Creuset or Huckebein the Raven, I will be delighted to oblige."

Halberton raised an eyebrow. "What do you have against Huckebein?"

"He used to be Victor Tempest."

"Oh." The Admiral had heard about that one. "I see. Well, Falcon, I can accept your conditions; frankly, I was expecting them. Therefore, I hereby grant you a direct commission in the Earth Alliance Forces as a full commander."

Sophia barely managing to avoid glaring; though at either Halberton or her brother, she couldn't decide. Even in our military he gets to outrank me?

"You are hereby assigned to the Archangel," Halberton went on, "as her wing commander." He glanced at Mu and Murrue. "Assuming neither of you have any objections?"

The Captain shook her head. "Of course not, sir... if Lieutenant La Flaga doesn't."

Mu cracked a smile. "Makes perfect sense, Admiral. For one thing, we have two mobile suits to a single mobile armor, so it only makes sense to put the more experience mobile suit commander in charge. Also, my brother happens to have more combat experience than I do, too."

Halberton looked at him sharply. "Your brother?"

"It's a very long story, Lewis," Falcon informed him. "Nobody really knows what went on back then, anyway, so we just accept it."

"I see." The Admiral shook his head. Typical of the sort of pilot he associates with; he just never mentioned he was one such himself. "Pity we can't get hold of any more Gray Demons," he mused. "How's old Laundromat, by the way? I haven't seen him since the war broke out."

"Dead, Lewis," the ace replied. "Endymion Crater; a Zero got him."

Halberton nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good man."

"Yes, he was." They were all good men and women... may they rest in peace.

The four officers had turned to stare at him. "'Laundromat'?" Natarle questioned, confused.

"Matt Russo," Falcon explained. "He flew under the callsign Laundromat thanks to an incident at the academy; an incident whose details are a deep, dark secret, known only to those few present at the dry-cleaners when it occurred."

"Including me," Halberton said dryly. "That was when Falcon and I first met; he and his buddies were on leave."

"Laundromat," Mu repeated, shaking his head. "I'd heard the Gray Demons attracted the misfits, but that one takes the cake."

"Oh no, it doesn't." Falcon looked almost amused. "You should meet Sparky sometime; his story's even stranger... and more unpleasant."

Hoffman, who had thus far been silent, looked curiously at Halberton. "Sir," he began quietly, "you do know your actions here may not be very popular with Headquarters. Alaska may not approve of the idea of giving a former ZAFT pilot such a post on our most advanced ship..."

"To blazes with Alaska," Halberton said succinctly. "If they didn't expect me to exercise my own initiative, they shouldn't have put me in command of a fleet. After Heliopolis, it's hardly as if the Archangel or the G-weapons are secret anymore, and believe me, we can use a man such as Falcon. The top-scoring ZAFT ace, and a man of absolute integrity... even if he does have his own agenda." He gave the pilot a shrewd look. "You do have your own agenda, don't you, Falcon?"

Falcon nodded. "Always."

Hoffman cleared his throat, realizing that this particular issue was not open to discussion. "Well, then. What of the other Coordinator, this... Kira Yamato. Are we to just forget all about him?"

Murrue's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I think we owe it to him," she said firmly. "Without his aid, we would never have reached here; but he is not a soldier. He was under a great deal of strain, these past weeks, and suffered greatly from having to fight against his own people. He's a kind, sincere boy, and I believe we owe him every consideration for his actions."

Natarle frowned. She doesn't get it; sometimes, you have to make sacrifices in war, even of those who would rather stay out of it. She doesn't see that... but I do, and now I have a chance to say so, she thought, coming to a decision.

"Excuse me, Admiral," she said, stepping forward. "But I find I must agree with Captain Hoffman's sentiment. Kira Yamato has incredible potential, and even now excels as a pilot. His skills would be invaluable to the Earth Forces; I strongly recommend that we keep him aboard."

Halberton spared her barely a glance. "I'm sure the young Coordinator's abilities would be useful to us, Ensign, but as Lieutenant Ramius just pointed out, he is not a soldier at all, let alone with the Earth Forces. We have no jurisdiction over his actions once he departs from this ship."

"Yes, sir, but if we were to convince him..." Natarle thought furiously. "Perhaps by holding his parents, we could put pressure on him..."

The Admiral's eyes swiftly narrowed, but before he could explode, Falcon's cool, one-eyed gaze froze the ensign in her tracks. "You already stepped in it once with Miss Clyne, Ensign," he said coldly. "I suggest you keep your mouth shut lest you suggest anything else of... highly-dubious legality."

Fixed between two glares, Natarle quickly subsided. "My apologies, Admiral, for speaking out of turn," she said nervously.

Halberton sagged back into his chair, looking more tired than angry. "What's past is not our concern," he said wearily. "What matters now is where we go from here."

Hoffman stepped forward once again. "With the destruction of the advance forces," he announced, "we no longer have the additional personnel to allocate to the Archangel. I'm afraid you'll have to remain short-handed for the time being, though Commander DiFalco's presence should offset that lack to a certain extent."

The Admiral nodded. "I'm afraid the Archangel will have to descend to Earth with its existing complement; however, you should have no trouble reaching Alaska from here. Fortunate, given that it is essential that your ship and the remaining G-weapons reach the base."

"It seems that Alaska does not share that view," his flag captain murmured.

"Bah." Halberton stood, shaking his head. "What do those pencil-pushers know about the reality of space combat? Even the combat veterans have been so long in desk jobs that their brains have atrophied, and there's nothing worse for a war effort than an armchair commander." He clenched a fist. "It burns me... those pontificating airheads keep wasting precious resources on concessions, while regarding the casualties in battle as nothing more than figures on paper!" Abruptly, he stopped, looking at Falcon. "My apologies about the concessions reference, Falcon; I know..."

The ace shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Lewis. I'm well aware that concessions are not a very smart idea when trying to fight a war; and I dislike the 'expendable solider' syndrome as much as you do. Besides, the only concessions we want can only come at the end of the war, however it is brought about." He raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that the Revolution has already succeeded, don't you?"

"Admiral-" Hoffman began angrily.

Halberton waved a hand. "Don't get all worked-up about it, Captain. You will find Falcon here is a staunch patriot for the PLANTs... and besides, I think he's right. Perhaps not entirely, but one way or another, there will be a compromise at the end of all this. Assuming, of course, that there's enough people left on either side to propose a compromise." He turned back to Murrue. "That's why it's essential that we get the G-weapon project back on track. We need to end this war quickly, before it gets entirely out of hand, and more innocents go the way of the Bloody Valentine. Therefore, it is imperative that you reach safe harbor in Alaska."

Murrue was startled by his vehemence, but then smiled and saluted. "Very well, Sir. I'll be sure to convey your sentiment when we reach Alaska."

Mu likewise brought his hand up. "As a surviving mobile armor pilot, that is one order I cannot refuse." Anything that brings this war to an end before more get slaughtered like Junius Seven or Endymion Crater...

Halberton returned their salutes. "I appreciate that," he said sincerely.

Archangel, Hangar

Kira stood atop the Strike's torso, staring up at the impassive face above him. It looked almost like it was alive, sometimes; a sleeping warrior, the epitome of the perfect war machine, just waiting for the right pilot to climb in and awaken it to its full potential.

There was no question that Kira had succeeded in bringing the Strike to its fullest potential; in fact, he had made it into something beyond its designer's wildest dreams... but he was not proud of it. Maybe I am the right pilot, he thought, but not because I want to be.

He remembered events from the last three weeks. Meeting -and nearly being knifed by- his old friend Athrun Zala, in the exploding Morgenroete factory, atop this very mobile suit. Cutting Miguel Aiman, the Magic Bullet of Dusk, clean in half. Facing Athrun again, blade to blade, yet neither making an aggressive move. Facing Athrun once more, before the advance force was completely destroyed; and one last time, with Lacus Clyne as witness, as they swore to hold back no longer, to show no mercy to each other on the field of battle...

"Sometimes it feels almost as if they're alive, doesn't it?"

Kira turned in surprise, and immediately realized he shouldn't have been startled. Hovering behind him, arms folded over his trench coat, was newly-minted Commander Kenneth DiFalco. As usual, he had appeared silently, merely observing his protégé. No wonder he's so good, Kira thought to himself. He watches everything; nothing surprises him, because he's already seen it...

Aloud, he said, "I guess you're right. Kinda silly, isn't it?"

Falcon shook his head. "Not at all. Pilots have empathized with their machines as long as man has had flight. As one wise pilot once wrote, if a man lies to his airplane, it will kill him. They're not just things, Kira; in battle, they become us, as we become them. Just as a machine is merely a collection of inanimate parts without a pilot, a pilot is nothing more than a man in a clumsy suit without his machine. Only when the two become one is either truly complete."

Kira sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean... I think. It's just too bad something like that has to come about in something as terrible as fighting."

The ace shook his head again. "No, Kira. You don't know what I mean, not really. To understand what I'm talking about, you have to understand what it is to be a soldier. War is terrible, yes. But a soldier's duty is not. Yes, what he does is something we all wish no one had to do. But there are few purposes more noble than the defense of others. It's a sad thing that a machine such as these comes alive only on the field of battle, where blood is shed, but it is also right. To be a protector is a noble calling, Kira."

"Not all soldiers are so noble," the younger Coordinator pointed out.

"I know," Falcon agreed. "In fact, very few are, and I would say that I'm not even one of them. Kira, I said that the cause is noble, not necessarily the man. Most soldiers are just that, men, no better or worse than anyone else. But they are men doing their duty, undertaking a responsibility they chose to bear." He closed his good eye, obviously looking back at something from his past. "I won't lie to you, Kira. A protector is consumed by his duty; he fights for a peace that he cannot share. Even if he survives the war, even if he makes the difficult transition to civilian life, he always remembers. In his dreams, the war always returns; the clash of swords, the crack of bullets, the sizzle of beams... You can take the soldier out of the war, but you can't take the war out of the soldier."

"Then why do it?" Kira demanded. "Why fight, if you can't live with yourself afterwards?"

"The thing is, Kira, you can live with yourself. You pay a price, you always remember the sacrifices... but you also remember that you made a difference; that you helped bring peace about. It's something to be proud of, Kira." Falcon lightly touched the sword hilt at his side. "But perhaps the most important reason, Kira? We fight because someone has to do it... and so that that someone isn't someone else. We fight so that others don't have to." A ghost of a smile. "And some of us... fight for redemption, to make up for our deeds."

Kira slowly shook his head. "Maybe so, Falcon, but all I was fighting for was to get myself and my friends to Earth in one piece. My war is over now."

Falcon nodded. "I agree. You set yourself a goal, Kira, and accomplished it; that's all anyone could ask of you. I am a soldier, and must continue the battle... but you're not. With your friends leaving for home, there's nothing more to hold you here. Don't let anyone con you into thinking that just because you can make a difference, you must. Because frankly, they're not the ones who should be making that judgment. The only one who can decide which path is right for you is you." He turned away. "That's all I can tell you, Kira. But, as this may be the last time we meet, let me say this: if you were in ZAFT, and I was still commanding the Gray Demons, I'd pull whatever strings I could to get you on my team. And I don't say that lightly."

Then the Falcon of Grimaldi was gone, leaving Kira alone in the hangar.

I guess that's an honor, he thought, reflecting Falcon's parting words. But only for a soldier... and I'm not one. Am I?

Kira had suspected since the start that Falcon was not like other people. The teenager did not act like one; he acted like a grown man, a man who'd seen more than his share of battles... and perhaps taken one too many hits to the head. That he was obsessed, Kira did not doubt. Falcon had subordinated everything to his cause, and the younger man rather thought Falcon was slightly unhinged. Only slightly, to be sure; he was no raving lunatic. But his mission -and whatever "sin" that had prompted it- had driven the ace to the breaking point and beyond; now Kira began to think that perhaps it was questions such as the one that faced him now that actually began the process.

Maybe in a month I'll be as crazy as he is, Kira thought to himself, managing to find a little humor in the situation. "If he thinks he can do everything by himself, he is crazy," he said to himself.

"Not crazy," a voice said from below. "Brilliant."

Kira jerked, even more startled than by Falcon's sudden appearance. "Huh?"

When he turned, he found Admiral Halberton looking up at him from the catwalk. "Kira Yamato, I presume. I read about your actions in the report; and Lieutenants Ramius and La Flaga, as well as Commander DiFalco, speak quite highly of you."

That made him a little uncomfortable; he was still unused to such praise. "Well... I had a lot of help."

"I know you did," Halberton acknowledged. "But they didn't help you fly, now did they? That was all you, Kira. All of it."

"I guess." In a bid to gain himself a moment to organize his thoughts, Kira changed the subject. "Uh, you said something about Commander DiFalco...?"

The Admiral nodded. "I said he was brilliant, not crazy. Oh, I'll grant he seems a little more... obsessed than he was when last I saw him, but if I know Falcon, whatever he's up to is another one of his brilliant plans. Make no mistake, Kira: Falcon is not only a superb pilot, but also a tactical and strategic genius." He waved a hand. "But I wasn't talking about him, I was talking about you." He looked up at the Strike. "You know, when I first proposed the G-weapon project, in 69, I was merely seeking an adequate countermeasure to ZAFT's mobile suits. Yet with people like you inside them, they suddenly become extraordinary superweapons."

"I wouldn't know about that..."

"I would," Halberton informed him. "And so would Falcon, who gave me a detailed report, from the perspective of an experienced mobile suit pilot. He also said that with one of these machines, you are capable of surpassing even him. Having seen the battle data, I'm inclined to agree." He inclined his head. "In some ways, that's made even more remarkable by the fact that, as I've been informed, your parents are Naturals."

Kira blinked, but nodded. "Uh, yes sir, that's correct."

"Obviously, they knew enough not to try to raise you the same way as a Natural, but rather let you reach your full potential." Halberton nodded to himself. "Part of me wonders what they wanted to achieve by making you a Coordinator; but whatever their reasons, the fact that you are one has saved a lot of lives." He raised a hand, forestalling Kira's protest. "Yes, I know you took a few along the way, but not as many as you saved among the Archangel's crew and passengers, and not as many as will be saved if this ship can continue her mission. Through her, and G-weapons she carries, we may, perhaps, bring this war to the swift end you and I both desire."

"I hope so, Sir," Kira said sincerely. If I've helped speed up the war's end, it'll have been worth it... "Uh, sir, what happens now to the Archangel, and Lieutenant Ramius and the others?"

"They'll be going back to the battlefield," Halberton answered. "They'll be playing a critical role from here on out, if we can get them down to Alaska safely."

The Coordinator nodded to himself; that was much as he expected. But he still had one question. "But... I thought I..."

"I know exactly what you're concerned about," the Admiral said kindly. "You possess certain... abilities... that would make you very valuable to the military. But we're not in the business of drafting people, Kira; and just having you would hardly guarantee us victory, now would it?"

Kira was becoming increasingly torn inside. "But... If I have the power to make a difference, shouldn't I put it to good use?"

Halberton smiled. "Only if you have the will to do it. Those who lack the will never do see it through to the end..."

Their conversation was interrupted as an aide stepped into the hangar. "Sir, the Menelaos would like you back onboard at once."

The Admiral sighed. "They just won't let me have a decent chat with you guys," he complained. "Well, Kira, I leave you with one last piece of advice: if you should ever change your mind, seek out Falcon; he can still teach you a great many things... things that could allow you to surpass even your teacher." He walked toward the hatch. "May you live to see the dawn of a better era!"

Kira watched him go. What do I do? Where will I go? Falcon's staying on, but my friends are leaving... and I don't want to see any more bloodshed. But... if I have the power to make a difference, shouldn't I...? He closed his eyes. What do I do?

Archangel, Corridor

Falcon moved at a steady clip down the corridor toward the Archangel's Bridge, maneuvering with the ease of a man more comfortable in zero-g than a gravity well. Hm. This ship sure is going to feel empty after the next few hours. I'll be glad to see the refugees gone -one less thing to worry about, and civilians have no place on a warship anyway- but it'll be a shame to see Kira and his friends go. They have the makings of genuinely good soldiers. He paused. Well, except maybe Kuzzey... and especially Flay.

With these thoughts in mind, he was startled when he ran into four of those students... still in uniform. "Didn't expect to run into you guys here," he commented, coming to a halt. "Aren't you going to miss your shuttle?"

Tolle grinned, and held up two halves of a piece of paper. "Sorry to disappoint you, Falcon... but we're not going on that shuttle. As of today, we're all Earth Forces soldiers."

Falcon blinked; the strongest display of surprise they'd yet seen him exhibit. "That... is a surprise," he admitted. "A pleasant one, to be sure, but till a surprise."

"It was Flay's idea," Sai told him. "She was the first to join up, and I figured that what she said about not sitting by while there was still shooting going on was the right idea... and I thought I shouldn't just abandon her..."

"And things went from there," Mir finished.

The pilot's eye narrowed. "It was Flay's idea? I would never have figured her for the soldier type."

"Well, after what happened to the advance force..." Kuzzey pointed out. "I'm not really that surprised."

"So anyway," Tolle said, "we're off to tell Kira, and drop off his discharge papers. Have you seen him lately, Falcon?" He took a closer look at Falcon's collar, and swallowed. "I mean, can you tell us where he might be, Sir?"

Falcon rolled his eye. "Tolle, if you ever call me 'sir' when we're off-duty, I'll put you on report. I don't operate that way; not in ZAFT, not now. I was your classmate before I was your superior officer... Crewman Koenig." He waited for the relieved chuckles to die down, and jerked his head back the way he'd come. "I think you'll find Kira in the hangar, waiting to board the shuttle. You'd better hurry."

"Right. Thanks, Falcon," Sai said, and moved on.

Mir, however, lingered. "I'll be right with you," she told the others, and turned back to Falcon. "I think something's up," she said quietly. "With Flay of all people enlisting..."

Falcon nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's obvious that she's out for vengeance... but there's something else going on, I suspect." He rubbed his eyepatch. "I think... that she might actually be planning to pilot the Strike."

Her eyes widened. "But... she can't. That's crazy; a Natural can't even operate it anymore!"

"Yeah, that's true... but Flay may not quite understand that. She may have been attending a technical college, but I don't think she knows much about mobile suits." The ace shook his head. "Let's keep an eye on the situation; but I don't think we should worry too much just yet. In order to launch, Flay would have to get permission from the Bridge, and any attempt would probably end right there... which doesn't mean she won't find some other way of carrying out whatever scheme she has in mind."

"But you're smarter than she is, right?" Mir smiled. "You'll be able to spot whatever she's trying to do."

"I hope so. Now get going; you don't want to miss seeing Kira off."

Archangel, Bridge

Pal, sitting at the fire-control station as usual, noticed something on his display, and instantly began to think he had very bad luck.

How else to explain the fact that, for the second time in a row, it was he who first noticed the signs of enemy attacks?

"Radar jamming, Captain!" he called out. "N-jammer levels increasing!"

Murrue whirled around. "What? An enemy attack, now?"

"Looks that way, Ma'am." Pal typed furiously, bringing up all relevant data. "Looks like... one Nazca, and two Laurasias. Profiles suggest the Nazca is Vesalius, and one of the Laurasias is the Gamow. The other is not named in our database."

"Rau," Falcon hissed, coming out of the elevator. "I should have known he wouldn't give up while we were still in space."

"But... we're in the center of the Eighth Fleet's formation," Natarle protested. "Are they that crazy?"

"You said it yourself, Ensign," he said grimly. "Fleets are conspicuous. Remember, a Nazca or Laurasia has capacity for up to six mobile suits each, which means we could be facing up to eighteen in this one engagement. I doubt they're up to full strength... but Vesalius and Gamow both have G-weapons aboard. We could be in for a real fight."

Murrue closed her eyes. Not again... not when we're so close to reaching Earth... "Sound Level One Battlestations," she ordered. "Falcon, I suggest you get to the Raptor, just in case. Without a pilot for the Strike..."

"Agreed." Curse you, Rau. Today's the day... your last, if I have anything to say about it.

Archangel, Hangar

Kira stood in line, waiting to board the shuttle to Menelaos, and from there to Earth. He had come here despite his new misgivings, and thought that he had made the right choice. Falcon's right. I set myself a goal, and I succeeded; not it's time for me to go home.

There was really nothing to hold him here anymore. His friends were leaving; and, while he considered Falcon a friend by now, as well, there was no doubt whatsoever that the ace pilot could take care of himself just fine. This is your war, Falcon... not mine.

"Hey, Kira!"

Kira jerked his head around the sound of his name, and his eyes widened at the sight. His classmates were coming toward him... in uniform. "Guys? Wha... why are you still...?"

Tolle thrust a rolled-up piece of paper at him. "This is yours, Kira. Your discharge papers. But you might be a little lonely on the flight home."

Sai nodded. "You're the only one of us going; we've decided to stay here, with the Archangel."

"We formally enlisted about an hour ago," Mir concurred. "Thought maybe there was a little more we could do to help end the war. The Archangel is shorthanded, after all."

"Besides," Kuzzey added, "if Flay can handle it, so can we."

Kira's eyes widened even farther. "What? Flay enlisted? What's going on?"

Something flickered in Mir's eyes, but she held her tongue; instead, Sai replied, "Like Mir said: there's still more we can do here."

"Besides," Tolle said with a grin, "it beats going back to college! This is way more important, anyway."

Sai gripped Kira's shoulder. "Good luck, Kira. Make sure you make it to Earth safely, okay?"

It was too much for Kira's already-confused mind to take in. "But... You're not... soldiers..."

"We fight because someone has to," Mir told him, unconsciously echoing Falcon's words. "We fight so that other people don't have to. People like you, Kira."

She'd have said more, but the alarm klaxon rang throughout the hangar. "All hands to Level One Battlestations! Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations!"

Tolle shook his friend's hand one last time. "Gotta go, Kira. Good luck!"

The four reluctantly turned to leave him. "We'll meet again, don't worry!" Mir called over her shoulder.

"We'll be fine," Sai added. "Just make sure you are, too!"

Kuzzey, predictably, had other things on his mind. "Whatever happens, please don't be tempted to join ZAFT!"

Then they were gone, leaving Kira with his own thoughts. Staring at the discharge papers, he hardly noticed the crewman at the shuttle, urging him to hurry up. They're all... staying? I'm the only one leaving?

He looked from the piece of paper to the object he held in his other hand: an origami flower, given to him by a little girl, in thanks for protecting her and the other refugees all the way to Earth. "Thank you for protecting the rest of us till now," she'd said.

"We fight so that other people don't have to..."

"To be a protector is a noble calling, Kira."

"If you have the power to make a difference, why not put it good use?"

"Only if you have the will to do it. Those who lack the will never do see it through to the end..."

They're right, Kira thought at last. We fight so that others don't have to, to be protectors... to make a difference. His head came up, and his fist clenched over the paper, crumpling it. I will see this through to the end, he vowed. And make sure nobody else dies for nothing!

He pushed off from the deck. "Go ahead without me," he told the crewman at the shuttle... and left to fly the dark skies once again.

Author's note: The students have officially joined the military, and Falcon has officially become an officer on the Archangel. Soon, now, the attack on the Eighth Fleet will begin, and battle will rage anew…

Ninofchaos, I hope this chapter was as good as the last.

Infinite Freedom, I have not yet decided exactly what mobile suits Tempest will be flying. He will be turning up at one point in a LaGOWE, but beyond that, I can't really say.

Yes, Falcon will be paired with someone, but, as per my usual practice, I intend to keep that uncertain until exactly the right moment.

As to your other point, as I said, it's not necessary, that's why. I'm simply not in the habit of discussing some things, particularly over the Internet.

Now, I noticed your review for NukeDawg's A New Saga. My only comment: no bet. I don't throw money away, if you get my drift.

NukeDawg, devious though Flay clearly is, she is no match for Ken DiFalco. I doubt she could possibly do anything to derail Falcon's master plan; besides which, I don't think she'd really care. She wants vengeance, so whatever Falcon may be planning to stop GENESIS -which, of course, she hasn't even heard of- would be of little interest to her.

Ominae, I really haven't figured out all the details myself yet… though another flashback to the duel with Tempest is coming up in the next chapter.

Deathzealot, thanks; though at present I don't think I'll need it.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, glad to see you're still enjoying it. As for what will happen next… well, it'll be a little different this time around, introducing, for one thing, the first truly new element to the storyline.

N/a, as stated above, I shan't be revealing any details of the pairing just yet. Glad to know you like the story, though.

Warp Ligia Obscura, I always respond to reviews for completed stories, assuming the on doing the reviewing is also reading something else of mine.

Now, to take things in order. Yes, I know of MG3's title; I was simply pointing out where the term originated, which was more pertinent to the context.

Yeah, I guess Falcon did say essentially the same thing to Natarle Kevin did. But hey, they're right… if bloodthirsty.

I already know about the error in Chapter 14's notes; Dragoon Swordsman pointed it out first, followed closely by Shinji Ikari. It's just that I don't usually bother correcting errors in the notes, as long as my point still gets across (which, in this case it apparently did; Shinji Ikari seemed more amused than anything else).

I'm not sure which incident you're referring to with Chapter 21, but since there were only two… If you're talking about the case where a slight error in the Zero System cost Kevin a buster rifle, my reasoning was simply that no computer system, even the Zero System, is infallible. If it didn't make mistakes, it wouldn't be believable. However, if you're talking about at the end, where it nearly turns him into a vegetable, it's even simpler: power surges do bad things to electronics of all kinds, especially something that delicately-balanced.

Not quite sure what you're referring to with Chapter 23's notes; I did make reference to being surprised by Garcia's survival, but I don't think I speculated on it at all. Or was that your theory (which would explain my finding no reference to it)?

It seems I'm the only person who hasn't the read the Astray series; you're perhaps the second or third to clarify Lowe's presence at the Marshall Island battle. I guess I should get around to reading it sometime…

Actually, the Chapter 24 comparison grew out of something a couple of reviewers were talking about. It wasn't until the matter started coming up in reviews that even thought of comparing it to Les Enfant Terribles, so it never occurred to me to have a Solidus. I suppose the closest would be Michael Carnehan, the clone who gets offed in Chapter 14 (though at the time it wasn't known he was a clone). Something might come up in A Call to Arms about that, though. Hmm… have to think about it, I think.

The Chapter 32 revelation was actually Shinji Ikari's idea. I decided it made sense -though I wish his face was actually shown at some point- so I went with it.

Never heard of "Who Dares Wins"; I came across it in MGS2, in reference to the British Special Air Service, and decided I liked it (incidentally, you'll find the term popping up a time or two in The Will to Power, another story I wrote last year).

Once again, I never thought to compare Kevin and his clones to Les Enfant Terribles, so the "Boss" references were just something I found appropriate.

Phew! Haven't had author's notes this long since the last time Shinji Ikari reviewed something of mine. Hope the chapter was worth all the effort to get it ready; now I go to debug it with Quick Edit. Once more unto the breach… -Solid Shark