I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco
Desert Dawn Base, February 19th, C.E. 71
Ken leaned against one of the base's rock walls, and sighed to himself. Two days after the second battle with the Waltfeld team, he was finally beginning to regain his former energy; the sleepless nights that had followed Archangel's arrival on Earth, combined with the effects of being under prolonged full-gravity, had left him much less active than usual for the first few days. Now, though, he was beginning to recover.
Which is probably a good thing, he thought to himself. We've won both our engagements with Andy's people so far, but there was a little too much luck involved both times; and I have a feeling our next meeting on the battlefield will be a decisive one.
Archangel's officers knew that, of course, and so did Sahib Ashman; which told Ken that before long, he'd probably be called in to exercise his tactical brains again. No doubt they'll ask me to prognosticate for them, he thought irritably. Just what do they think I am, some kind of oracle? I'm good -no, better than good- but I'm not infallible; GENESIS has proven that. If I had only known what Patrick planned from the beginning, maybe I could have stopped this before it began...
But that wasn't really fair, the pilot admitted. The thing he feared might be the worst possible outcome, but that didn't mean Patrick wouldn't have found some other way to accomplish his goal, without the great Grimaldi Falcon and his strategic genius. No, he was bright enough all by himself to have found a way to exercise the Shiva Option.
It still gave Ken a chill to think about the Shiva Option. There were two, actually; his own, original plan, and Patrick's more ambitious one. He shuddered to think of what his former superior's conception of Shiva had been, even before those final days. A colony drop, he thought, remembered horror echoing in his mind. Almost as bad as GENESIS... especially if he dropped more than one. After the battles at L4, that was a very real, and very frightening, possibility.
And now, Ken was acting out a variation of the Shiva Option, completely blind; he literally made up his own part in it as he went along, while hoping Sparky, Leanne, and Tom could finish Shiva on their own. The data he had conveyed to them through Lacus Clyne would doubtless be invaluable; but in order for the machine he proposed to be completed, something vital to his nightmare also had to be ready, which meant he had a very narrow margin for achieving the goal for which he had sacrificed everything but his own life. Once one could be completed, so could the other; and from that moment on, the entire world would be living on borrowed time, whether it knew it or not.
It'll be a race, to see if my grand design can succeed before Patrick is ready for the true Shiva Option. Even if I succeed, I may be reviled as one of the greatest traitors of all time; yet that is far preferable to failure. For if I fail... then there may be no one left to spit upon my name.
"So, there you are," a voice said, breaking into the pilot's thoughts. "Let me guess: you've been carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders again, right?"
Ken glanced up quickly, but saw it was only Cagalli. "You have a talent for cutting right to the heart of the matter," he noted. "As a matter of fact, I was just wondering how my people are doing right now; their task is not an easy one."
She snorted. "But easier than yours, right? At least they don't have to make it all up as they go along. You're the one who has to improvise all the time."
"That I do," he agreed. "On the other hand, it would at least seem I have a talent for it."
"So I've noticed," Cagalli said dryly. "First you hijack an Earth Forces mobile suit while your former comrades are busy stealing the rest, then wreak general havoc across millions of kilometers, and now you've helped bring about an unlikely alliance between Earth Forces soldiers and Desert Dawn resistance fighters. Yeah, I'd say you have a talent for it; must come in handy."
"Maybe so, but there are times when I wish I was just a little less brilliant." Ken's expression darkened. "Maybe then I wouldn't be in this position at all."
"Has it ever occurred to you that you might be too hard on yourself?"
He shook his head. "Don't you think I've thought about it? Even before my... precipitous departure, I examined the situation from every angle, and the only conclusion I could draw was that my actions led directly to Patrick's ability to carry out his mad plan." He grimaced. "Although, to be perfectly honest, there was another way for him to achieve what he wanted."
That made Cagalli a little curious. "How would he have done that?"
He smiled humorlessly. "Ever think about what would happen if those abandoned space colonies at L4 were dropped on Earth?"
She jerked. "Even he wouldn't..."
"Oh, yes, he would. Believe me, I worked very closely with the man, and I can tell you that Patrick desires nothing more and nothing less than the total extermination of all Naturals." Ken snorted. "He believes Coordinators are a new species, as if we somehow 'evolved' on our own. He doesn't seem to realize that it was Naturals who created us in the first place."
"Is he out of his mind?" Cagalli demanded. "That's crazy!"
"Oh, it's safe to say that Patrick isn't in his right mind anymore," he agreed. "Not since the Bloody Valentine; he lost his wife there." He shrugged. "On the other hand, a lot of other people lost friends and family that day, and not all of them have gone this far." Like me, he didn't add.
"Hey!"
Both turned at the shout, to see Ahmed hurrying toward them. "What is it, Ahmed?" Cagalli asked.
The youth pointed back the way he'd come, to the cave that served as a war room. "Sahib and the Archangel's officers want you, Commander DiFalco."
Ken carefully avoided sighing. "What for?"
Ahmed shrugged. "Beats me. I'm just the messenger, remember? But I bet it has something to do with how we're gonna beat the Tiger."
The ace closed his eye. "Probably." He glanced at Cagalli. "I'll see you later; apparently I'm going to be busy for a little while."
Desert Dawn Base, War Room
"Glad you could join us, Falcon," Murrue greeted when the ace arrived; also with her were Sahib, Natarle, and Mu.
Ken nodded. "Hello, Murrue." He raised an eyebrow. "So, just what, if I might ask, is going on?"
"We're looking to remedy certain... deficiencies in our capabilities," Sahib said bluntly. "Deficiencies that were demonstrated quite well in that last battle." He sighed. "Put simply, we do not have the capability to put much of a dent in the ZAFT forces in this region. Even with the Archangel, our resources are limited."
"Rather severely," Mu agreed. "We left Heliopolis in a big hurry, never got proper provisions from Artemis, and had our resupply at the Eighth Fleet rudely interrupted by Le Creuset's attack."
"Which means," Natarle put in, "that we don't have much hope of defeating Waltfeld right now; let alone getting across two entire oceans to reach Alaska."
Ken nodded slowly. "That is a problem," he murmured. "Archangel may have state-of-the-art weapons and a couple of high-tech mobile suits, but she was never intended to go so far all by herself; even with all six G-weapons, she's supposed to be part of a fleet, not operating independently. That would be bad enough under normal circumstances, but going up against the Desert Tiger...? That could be bad." He looked up. "Do we have the ability to remedy this... deficiency, as you put it?"
Sahib nodded. "We do. There's a black market arms dealer operating in Banadiya, by the name of Al-Jairi. Not exactly the sort one would call trustworthy, but you'd be surprised by the sort of hardware he has access to. And besides, what gunrunner is trustworthy?"
"Al-Jairi..." The pilot frowned. "I know the name; I heard about him the last time I was in this region. You're right, he's as trustworthy as anybody you're likely to find, with impressive contacts... but the man doesn't come cheap. With him, you have to be prepared to pay an arm and a leg."
"Cost shouldn't be a problem," the guerilla leader said evenly. "That's not your concern. What is your concern -and the reason we called you in- is figuring out exactly what we need; not just for getting rid of the Tiger, but for Archangel's journey, as well."
Ken looked at him curiously. "Why should you care, once we're out of the area?"
Sahib folded his arms. "If you can help us defeat the Desert Tiger, we owe you; and we pay our debts, Commander, I assure you."
The ex-ZAFT ace raised a hand. "Relax, Sahib; I wasn't questioning your integrity. It was merely a question, that's all." His eye narrowed. "Let's see; first of all, what's the timetable?"
"We haven't established a time for our move," Natarle answered. "But we'll be seeing this arms dealer sometime tomorrow."
Ken nodded. "All right. I can have the list ready by then; but I'm afraid I can't accompany you to the meeting itself."
Murrue frowned. "Why not?"
"Because," Sahib answered for him, in a dry tone, "Commander DiFalco's face is not exactly unknown. Al-Jairi wouldn't turn him in to ZAFT, but he wouldn't trust anything we had to say with him present, either."
Natarle nodded. "Makes sense; most people won't be so ready to believe he's not with ZAFT anymore. Not after Endymion and Nova."
"Most people won't have seen me shoot down my own former comrades," Ken said quietly. "I notice there's no longer much question around here -or on the Archangel- that I really have left ZAFT."
"It helps you have a reputation for keeping your word," Mu told him. "Admittedly, your defection makes people wonder a little, but overall..."
"I get the point." The ace nodded to himself. "All right, I should have a rough estimate of what we need by the time you leave tomorrow. Till then."
He swept out of the room, trench coat fluttering behind him, and Sahib shook his head. "He does have a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he?"
"Comes by it naturally," Mu opined. "Or maybe the legend of the Grimaldi Falcon's even infected him; hard to say. You can never tell what that guy is thinking, unless he wants you to... or unless he runs into Rau Le Creuset. He despises the man."
"So I've heard."
Archangel, Hangar
Late at night, the Archangel's hangar was a quiet place, empty of all save three mobile armors and the two still, silent mobile suits... and the one young pilot who slept within the Strike's cockpit, getting some much-needed rest where no one would think to look for him.
No one, that was, except Murrue Ramius and Mu La Flaga, who stood at one of the upper hatches, overlooking the huge chamber.
"I wonder why he's taken to sleeping in the Strike like this," Murrue mused. "According to Chief Murdoch, this is the second time since we landed."
Mu shrugged. "Hard to say; but I think it has something to do with Flay. Those two are... together now, it looks like, but something in him seems to be resisting. I don't know, maybe it's Falcon's influence, but it looks like he's trying to get away sometimes."
"Could be." She frowned, as they stepped back out into the corridor. "But... I thought she was Sai's girlfriend, wasn't she?"
"Used to be, at least." The Hawk stroked his chin. "And I've overheard the kids talking about it; apparently, this came as a shock to them, too. As far as I can tell, this came out of the blue, but it's fairly serious. I hear Sai nearly wound up in the Infirmary the other night."
Murrue blinked. "What happened?"
He smiled, with a trace of genuine humor. "Apparently, Sai figured out why Flay had been scarce lately, and tried to press her on what was going on. Unfortunately for him, they ran into Kira, and by the time the argument was over, Sai was in the dust."
She winced. "Ouch. And this came without warning, you said?"
"Well..." Mu hesitated. "Maybe not quite without warning. I've done a little checking, and, combining what I heard from the students with some things Murdoch's told me, apparently Miriallia and Falcon have been keeping an eye on Flay ever since her father died. I guess Falcon put his Recon training to work, because he didn't seem very surprised; not that he ever shows it when he's surprised, of course. But I think he knew something."
Murrue nodded slowly. "I guess that's not surprising; but that still leaves us with something of a problem." She glanced back at the hangar's hatch. "Flay obviously has some kind of influence over Kira now, and that may not be a good thing; either for his ability to defend the ship, or himself as a person. I don't think it's healthy for him. On the other hand, I'm not really sure what to do about it."
The pilot thought about that for awhile. "What about some shore leave?" he suggested finally. "A chance to get away from the ship for awhile might do him some good."
She considered that. "Not a bad idea," she decided. "When Natarle and the others go to Banadiya tomorrow, they could drop him off; maybe with one of the resistance fighters, to make sure he doesn't get lost or something. If Sahib agrees, probably Miss Cagalli; under the circumstances, she'd be the least conspicuous."
"Hmm. Yeah, that's true. Feisty, but less likely to attract attention." Mu raised an eyebrow. "Maybe send Falcon, too; I know he said it wouldn't be a good idea for him to go there, but that was for a recon mission, where he'd have been going places he shouldn't. For something like this, he should be fine; and with that sword of his, he'd make short work of any trouble they'd be likely to run into."
"All right." Murrue paused. "But what if he runs into the Tiger himself?"
"The odds are against that. But if he does..." The Hawk's expression turned slightly grim. "I hope that either Waltfeld is one of those who's willing to settle the score with him in battle, or Falcon has the guts to take matters into his own hands."
African Community, Banadiya
This place hasn't changed a bit, Ken thought, as the jeep arrived at the preplanned location. Or at least, not since my last visit; one wonders what it was like before ZAFT occupied.
He, Kira, and Cagalli exited the jeep, all wearing civilian clothing, and Natarle -also out of uniform- nodded to them. "We'll see you back here in four hours, Commander- I mean, uh, Ken, Kira." She seemed a little uncertain; the more so because Ken had pointed out to her the inadvisability of calling him by his rank or even by his nickname here.
"There aren't that many people who go by the name Falcon, Lieutenant," he'd told her. "Any ZAFT man would make the connection without much trouble."
"I'll... see you later," she finished lamely, and the vehicle drove off.
"Not very comfortable out of uniform, is she?" Ken commented quietly. He'd exchanged his usual gray trench coat for black for this excursion, and once again wore sunglasses instead of his eyepatch. "Odd; it doesn't bother me any."
"You're used to being out of uniform," Cagalli pointed out. "You spent four months on Heliopolis, after all." She almost mentioned the typical ZAFT individualism, but recalled where they were, and held her tongue.
"You've been here before, right?" Kira asked. "Last year, you said?"
The ace nodded. "That's right; a goodwill tour that apparently didn't do much good, at least not with the resistance groups. One tried to make a move during my trip, and got blasted to rubble." He looked up at the clear desert sky. "It was out at Talbadiya, a factory district a few hundred klicks from here. One of my people had a hand in that."
Cagalli gave him a sharp look. "One of the Gray Demons helped with that? Who?"
"Well," Ken corrected himself, "that was actually before the Demons were formed; but it was her actions here that led to my selecting her. Her name's Shiho Hahnenfuss, and last I heard, she's actually still alive. She wasn't with us at Endymion, fortunately."
"It's weird," Kira commented, looking around. "I believe you when you say the resistance groups didn't take it very well... but it looks so peaceful here."
His companions exchanged glances. "Show him, Cagalli," Ken said at last. "He'll have a better idea of what's going on then. Meanwhile..." He adjusted his sunglasses. "I'm going to take a look around. I'll meet you two in an hour or so, at that restaurant."
Cagalli nodded. "Okay. Be careful; if you're compromised, so are we."
"Think I don't know that?"
The ace disappeared into the crowd, and Kira looked at Cagalli, puzzled. "What was he talking about?"
She sighed. "Easier to show you. Believe me, this place isn't nearly as peaceful as it looks; the Desert Tiger saw to that."
After leaving his companions to do their shopping -a mission which provided one reason for his absence; he knew about as much about shopping as he did about world-class finger painting- Ken had faded out of the crowds and into the back alleys, a place in which he felt much more at home. During his previous time here, he'd made a point of learning how to get around without being found, and now he blessed his foresight.
Recon, he thought, climbing a fire escape. I couldn't manage it that first night; but now I know the area better, and the situation, and I'm not as rusty. Reaching the rooftop, he cautiously made his way to the edge, and peered out over the streets. Intelligence is what we need; especially since there were reports of Blue Cosmos activity here. If those scum really are here, we need to know about it; and I may need to act preemptively, to make sure they don't get the drop on me or something.
From here, Ken could see Kira and Cagalli going about their business; it amused him some to note that Cagalli did the shopping, while Kira stood around holding the bags and looking out of his depth. Either he doesn't know much about shopping either, or he's not used to being in a place like this. He was also pleased to note that the two seemed to be getting along a little better than they had when they first ran into each other in the desert. No longer did it look like Cagalli was ready to hit her companion on a moment's notice.
His gaze shifted away from them, examining the whole area. It wasn't just his recon training, though that was part of it; mostly, it was one of the things that had made him such a fiendishly effective strategist: he observed everything, took note of everything, and made his plans after gathering every scrap of information he could find. In this case, what he was watching for was the telltale signs of weapons on the various passers-by. Difficult to see from where he was, but not impossible.
Especially considering that his sunglasses had a few tricks built into them, like magnification.
Hmm... Ken thought. A few armed pedestrians about; bodyguards, from the looks of things, or soldiers on guard duty. What would Andy Waltfeld be doing having his people out here? His mind considered the variables. Random maneuvers; probability: six percent. Highly unlikely. Soldiers out for a stroll, but unwilling to go unarmed; probability: thirty percent. Possible, but unlikely. Unscheduled exercise; probability... unknown; schedule unknown, not all variables known. Probability: thirty to forty percent. His eyes narrowed. Andy Waltfeld out for a day trip undercover; probability: ninety percent.
That determination wasn't calculated to make the pilot feel at ease; but he pushed that aside, while he considered his own course of action. Option One: leave, before Waltfeld can find me, and pretend I was never here. Possible... but I don't believe in abandoning my comrades. Option Two: confront Andy directly, before he notices Kira and Cagalli. Again, possible; maybe safest, too. He already knows Archangel is here, so my presence won't come as much of a surprise. Still... Option Three: join my friends when they reach their table, and wing it from there. Hmm...
Ken smiled to himself. In the end, it all came down to Lesson Seven: Leave no one behind. Never abandon your own. Not to mention Lesson Ten: The more complex the plan, the greater the chance of failure. Improvising, after all, is as simple as it gets. Besides, he adhered to the so-called KISS Principle: Keep It Simple, Stupid.
That decided him. He climbed down from the roof, and slowly, casually meandered his way toward the chosen rendezvous. Further intelligence gathering was probably pointless at this point, anyway. Remember Lesson Eleven, he told himself. Even if you are the one doing the intelligence gathering.
Lesson Eleven: "Military Intelligence" is usually a contradiction in terms.
"We were wondering when you were going to turn up again," Cagalli remarked, when Ken slid into a seat at the table. "Find out anything interesting?"
He shrugged. "Just that there are guys in civilian clothes carrying guns out here; my bet is soldiers on alert. I don't know what they're expecting, but..."
"Maybe it's a drill," Kira suggested.
"Maybe." Ken frowned. "But I don't think so. My read on it is that Andy Waltfeld himself is out here somewhere. I doubt he knows we are... but his people are expecting trouble. That could be good or bad from our perspective." He shrugged again. "Anyway. Did your trip go well?"
I think I'll stay out of this conversation, Kira thought. Besides, I'm not even sure what I'm doing here. It seemed to him that he'd been dragged along on a thinly-disguised reconnaissance mission, and he had no clue what he might bring to it.
He didn't realize he was the reason this particular jaunt had been organized in the first place.
"We got what we were after," Cagalli said, in response to the question. "Except for the stuff that Flay girl asked for. I mean, come on. All this designer stuff... doesn't she realize we're in the middle of a warzone here? Even if we could find it, this isn't the time for such frivolous things."
Ken nodded sagely. "I know. Unfortunately, Flay happens to be the daughter of a now-deceased politician, and thus has a taste for the finer things in life, which she hasn't quite managed to shed yet."
"Well, she'd better do it soon," she grumbled. "This is crazy."
"Oh, she'll learn," he assured her. "That's how it happens in war: either you learn the rules, or you die before you can. Darwinism in action."
Kira winced, hearing Flay talked about in such a manner, but it didn't exactly surprise him. His mentor's opinion of the girl was hardly a secret, especially after their little... discussion, after the first battle in the desert.
Soon, they had ordered food -partly as cover, partly because all three were genuinely hungry- and Ken went back to checking his surroundings. Something still didn't feel right to him; and when his companions weren't looking, he discretely hooked one of his power packs up to his chest plate, under his jacket. If anything goes wrong, I can't afford that to quit on me at an inconvenient moment.
Then his eyes noticed someone approaching their table, and his muscles tensed. The man wore a yellow shirt, a pair of shades, and a straw hat, making him nearly unrecognizable, but something about him seemed familiar to Ken... unpleasantly so.
The man arrived moments after their food. "Excuse me for intruding," he said, "but I happened to notice what you ordered, and thought I'd give you the benefit of my culinary knowledge." He nodded at the plates on the table; Cagalli had suggested "kebabs", something Ken vaguely remembered from his last visit here. "Those, as it happens, go great with yogurt sauce."
Ken and Kira exchanged slightly bemused glances, but their feisty friend seemed to be more interested in setting this interloper straight. "That's ridiculous," she retorted. "Everyone knows..."
Something really isn't right here. Ken's blood ran cold. It is him. The guards... and besides, only he would talk like that to a couple of "total strangers". Which means... my cover is blown. Every instinct in him clamored to abort the mission, but it was far too late for that; and besides, the Grimaldi Falcon had only ever aborted one mission, and he wasn't about to do it again today. So instead, we alter the paradigm; do something Andy would never expect.
"Why don't you drop the act, sir?" the ace said wearily. "You are who you are, and we know it."
Instantly, the gazes of the other three snapped to him. The stranger was, perhaps, the most startled of them all; despite the pilot's fears, he hadn't tumbled to his identity... until now. "It's you," Andrew Waltfeld said quietly. "I should have known. No one else would be here."
Cagalli glared at Ken. "Just what do you think you're-"
"He already knows who we -or at least you- are," he told her. "He wouldn't be here if he didn't." His gaze went back to the ZAFT commander. "Isn't that right, sir?"
Waltfeld nodded unwillingly. "You're good, Commander; and why are you calling me 'sir'? Last I checked, we're the same rank."
"That was before," Ken replied. "But if you insist." He looked away for a moment, replacing the sunglasses with his trademark eyepatch. "What are you doing here, Andy?"
"Well, since you asked-"
"Wait!" The cross-trained pilot had finally realized what was bothering him, and it wasn't his old comrade's presence. "Hit the dirt!"
Ken DiFalco did not shout. Did not even raise his voice. Kira knew that... and knew that when he did shout, it was for a very good reason.
The younger Coordinator lunged forward, knocking Cagalli to the ground and out of the line of fire -assuming there was one- while Waltfeld kicked the table over, arranging it into makeshift cover. At the same moment, Ken dropped to the ground, one hand reaching into his trench coat... just as the first rocket lanced out from a rooftop and impacted in the street mere meters away.
"What's going on?" Waltfeld called over the sudden din of weapons fire.
"Blue Cosmos attack!" Ken replied, rolling to the right. "Nobody else is this obvious!"
Already, the terrorists were appearing on the street, firing indiscriminately with fully-automatic rifles. Civilians scattered everywhere, while the plainclothes soldiers the ace had noticed earlier returned fire on the Blue Cosmos men.
"Stay down!" Waltfeld ordered his own companions. "Let us handle this!"
"Not a chance," Ken said tightly. "It isn't in me to rely on others in a situation like this." He leapt to his feet... and drew his sword.
Several gunmen immediately shifted aim toward the new target, but the pilot was unfazed. As he had done in Tassil, his first night back on Earth, he raised his katana to a guard position, and began deflecting bullets with it. Some went wide, a couple struck the men who'd fired them in the first place, and several missed simply because the whirling blade threw off the gunners' aim.
Ken wasn't a super-soldier; he wasn't perfect. The inevitable result of his slightly insane course of action was first a bullet that grazed his head, cutting into his flesh and dripping blood into his right eye; and then another struck him in the right side, near where he'd been shot at Heliopolis. But his only response was a grunt of pain, and then he was among them.
Kira winced, seeing a head and body drop away from the fight, completely independent of each other, and looked away when other bodies started dropping. Ken hadn't even moved from his chosen spot; just kept whirling his extremely sharp blade around, deflecting the odd bullet and cleaving any bodies that got too close.
Cagalli, however, hadn't looked away for an instant; unlike Kira, she'd seen ground combat before, if not quite this... brutal. So she spotted the danger at the same time Waltfeld did: another man, edging out of an alleyway, carefully aiming his weapon at the whirling dervish in the middle of the street. "Look out!"
"Down!" Waltfeld shouted at the same instant.
Both warnings came a moment too late. The terrorist's full-auto burst mostly missed, but two rounds caught the pilot in the left shoulder, spinning him around. Careless, he cursed himself as he fell. Stupid, cowboy maneuver... As he fell, though, Ken used his good arm to send his sword through the air in a spinning arc toward the overturned table.
Kira instinctively caught the weapon, though he had no idea what to do with it. Somehow he sensed Ken had wanted him to do something with it, but he didn't know what.
Then, just as Waltfeld blew away the gunman who'd shot the young pilot, Kira saw what Ken had: another man, on their side of the street, lining up on Waltfeld.
There was no time to think, no time to consider the fact that the ZAFT commander was his enemy. There was only time to act, and that's exactly what he did. Holding the sword awkwardly in one hand, Kira lunged from concealment, snatched up a fallen gun, and hurled it at the terrorist's gun.
It caught the man completely by surprise, and by the time he'd recovered, Kira was there, swinging the blade. "For the preservation of our blue and pure-!"
The Coordinator very nearly cut off the man's head, but at the last instant reversed the weapon, hammering the terrorist in the chin with the pommel, instead; there was a snapping noise, and he fell. He was just as dead with a snapped neck, but it wasn't as messy as the alternative.
Very suddenly, it was all over. There was no more gunfire, no more blood spraying through the air; and various people put away their weapons, while Kira and Cagalli tried to make sense of what had just occurred.
A man in ZAFT green, Martin DaCosta, walked over. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked, holstering his own pistol.
Waltfeld nodded, removing his sunglasses. "Yep, I'm just fine; thanks to these guys." He strode over to the fallen ace. "You okay, DiFalco?" he asked, extending a hand.
Ken accepted the help, pulling himself to his feet. "Could be better," he grunted. "Took a couple hits back there; but I've been worse, too."
The Tiger nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I heard about that. Listen, let's get you guys-"
He was interrupted by another voice, this one addressed to Ken. "Hello, son. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
Ken spun as fast as his injuries would permit. "Just who are you?" he demanded of the Germanic-looking fellow who had just called him son. "Identify yourself, or be shot." The way his good hand darted into his coat left those watching with little doubt that he'd do exactly what he threatened.
The man sighed. "I suppose you wouldn't remember me, would you, Kenneth La Flaga? You were only nine months old, when we were separated."
Nine months old... Ken's mind flashed back to what Sophia had told him about his origins. "Doctor Heinrich Metzinger, I presume?" he said coldly.
Waltfeld's eyes narrowed. He'd heard things of Metzinger, none of them good... and he certainly knew the name La Flaga. Does that mean...?
Metzinger nodded approvingly. "At least you know some of it," he said, clearly pleased. "That will make things easier, in the long run."
"Explain," Ken ordered curtly.
The German doctor shrugged. "Only a little, for now; but I suppose some background is necessary. Tell me, my son, do you know the meaning of 'Der Schreckick Eins'?"
He tilted his head. "The Terrible One," Ken translated. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It's what you are," Metzinger said simply. "My greatest project; not all my own plan, perhaps, but I found my employer's pet project useful for my own purposes. You were created nearly eighteen years ago now for a purpose, and it seems I was quite as successful as I'd hoped."
"I don't care about your pet project, Doctor," the ace snapped. "What I do care about is learning just what you're doing here, and why you've decided to butt in on my life again after seventeen years."
"I would have done it sooner, had I been able to find you," the doctor replied. "Your adoptive parents were helpful in the sense that they kept you safe and sound, but unhelpful in the sense that they made it difficult to track you down." He spread his hands. "I'm here to take you back, son. We have much unfinished business, you and I, don't we?"
"Just what makes you think I care about that?" His eye narrowed dangerously. "I told you: I don't care about your blasted 'experiment'; and I have a job to do, which has nothing to do with you. Why should I go with you?"
"Aren't you curious?" Metzinger asked. "Don't you want to know the details of your birth; the truth of your extraordinary piloting abilities? Besides, this is far more important than some petty squabble between two nations. We're talking about the future here, my son."
"Stop calling me that," Ken hissed, getting angry. "And I have no intention of going anywhere with you."
"It's the only way you'll ever learn the truth-"
"I don't care about that," he snapped back. "And I suspect I have another source, anyway." Sophia, he thought. You have a lot of explaining to do. "All that matters to me right now is this war; you can go play with your chemistry set without me." He turned away.
Metzinger sighed. "We have to do this the hard way, do we? You're coming with me, Ken, whether you think you want to or not." He reached into his white lab coat.
Kira didn't like the looks of it; and he was already unnerved by what the strange man had been spouting. "Falcon, catch!" he called, and threw the pilot's sword back to him.
Ken caught it, understanding in a flash that his so-called "father" was about to try something untoward, and spun around. The sword flashed in a smooth arc, before returning to its scabbard under his coat, apparently without hitting anything.
That wouldn't have mattered in any case; Waltfeld chose that moment to fire his own sidearm, converting Metzinger's head to spattered bone, brain, and blood.
Of course, the doctor was already dead. Even as Ken walked away, his torso slowly, almost gracefully, slid off his legs.
It had all happened so quickly, it was over almost before it began, as far as Kira and Cagalli were concerned. First the abrupt discovery that their new tablemate was the Desert Tiger himself, then a Blue Cosmos attack, and finally some bizarre individual showing up, having a brief, acrimonious exchange with Ken, and then getting sliced in half. They just weren't sure yet how to react to it.
Waltfeld, however, took it more or less in stride; and he walked over to join Ken at Metzinger's corpse. "Well, that was interesting," he commented, picking up the weapon the doctor had attempted to draw. "Whoever he was, Commander, he didn't like you very much." He handed the peculiar-looking gun to the ace.
Ken examined it, holding it in his good hand. "So I see," he grunted a moment later. "A needler, if I'm not mistaken; fires small darts tipped with South Sea cone shell venom. I'd have been dead before I realized I was hit." He grimaced. "If I had to guess, he decided it wasn't worth the trouble to bring me in alive; he'd just take my corpse, study it, and begin anew."
The Tiger nodded. "So you did know the guy."
"In a manner of speaking. It's been seventeen years, though, and I only found out about my connection to him a few weeks ago." The pilot met the older man's eyes. "And yes, my name is La Flaga. It's a very long story, Commander."
"No doubt." Waltfeld turned back to the other two teenagers. "Well, how's about we head to my place for a little while, people?"
Cagalli was instantly suspicious. "Why should we? I don't trust you."
The Tiger sighed. "Look, Miss, you really don't have anything to worry about; this has nothing to do with who you may or may not be. I'm just being friendly, that's all."
Kira attempted to politely wave it off. "It's okay, sir, really..."
"I won't take no for an answer," Waltfeld told him. "Your friend there is covered in all sorts of sauce; can't let you go home like that. And you saved my life, remember. Besides," he added, nodding at Falcon, "Falcon over there should get those wounds wrapped up ASAP."
Kira looked to his mentor, and Ken considered the matter. "All right," he said at last. "Kira, Cagalli, we'll be fine, I think. And Andy's right: my injuries should be attended to." He looked over at Waltfeld. "Just remember, Commander: we need to be back here in a few hours at most, or people will begin to ask awkward questions; and I have a sister who would be quite happy to bomb your house, if she thought the situation warranted it."
The Tiger laughed. "I'll remember that, DiFalco."
Banadiya, Andrew Waltfeld's Headquarters
"Same old building, I see," Ken observed, as the small group climbed the steps to the house's -no, mansion's- front door.
Waltfeld shrugged. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
A black-haired woman in blue and white was waiting for them when they entered. "Good to see you back, Andy," she greeted. "I hear you ran into some trouble out there."
"Nothing we couldn't handle, Aisha." He smiled. "That is, me and these two."
Aisha examined the pair, and their female companion. "Commander DiFalco," she noted. "It's been awhile; glad to see you again."
Ken's eyebrows went up. "Not many in ZAFT would say that today."
"Nobody's perfect." She looked over at Kira. "So, this is the guy you've been so interested in lately?"
Waltfeld nodded. "That's him, all right; no doubt about it. Now, how about you get the girl cleaned up, and meet us in the library in a little bit?"
"Sure thing." Aisha turned to Cagalli. "Follow me, okay? I'll get you cleaned up in no time."
Though clearly reluctant, Cagalli went with the Tiger's subordinate; she hoped Ken was right in thinking they weren't in danger here.
"Now, Falcon," Waltfeld went on, "I suggest you get those bullet holes taped up; those must hurt."
"They're not fun," Ken admitted; he'd been a little more willing to let his thoughts show in his expression and body language lately, Kira noted. "I'll be right back." He remembered where the Tiger kept his medical supplies from his last visit here, the previous year.
The Tiger then gestured to a side room. "In here," he told Kira. "You can relax for awhile," he added. "There won't be any trouble from those terrorists here."
Actually, Kira suspected that particular Blue Cosmos cell wouldn't be giving anyone anymore trouble; he'd seen the wreckage of human bodies left by his friend's incredibly keen sword. There might be more where they came from, he thought, but maybe they'll think twice next time. Probably not; but a little hope never hurt anything.
"I must apologize, by the way," Waltfeld commented, handing Kira a cup of coffee. "I'm actually rather fond of Banadiya, and I wish you could have had a better introduction to it." He grimaced. "Unfortunately, it seems our late friends had other plans. My people knew there was a cell operating here, but we hadn't yet tracked them down; and we certainly never expected today's attack." He chuckled quietly. "Obviously, though, they didn't have anyone of your friend's caliber doing their planning, or they might have noticed who the guy in the trench coat was, and rescheduled. Of course, I didn't recognize him, so maybe I'm expecting a little much from two-bit terrorists."
Kira didn't know what to say to that; but his host didn't seem to expect a response anyway, so he simply turned his attention to his surroundings. It seemed to be some sort of sitting room, with the usual scattering of furniture, as well as a peculiar-looking object sitting on a table. It looked like a fossil; but he couldn't think of any animal that looked quite that strange. Except...
Waltfeld nodded, noting his interest. "Yep, that's Evidence 01, all right," he told the youth. "A small reproduction, of course; the original is about twenty times that size, and stored at Aprilius One, to boot." He raised an eyebrow. "Ever seen the real thing?"
"Only pictures," Kira replied. "I've never been to Aprilius One." He gazed intently at the object, almost mesmerized by it. "The proof of extraterrestrial life, right?"
"That's what they say," the Tiger confirmed. "Don't know why they call it a Whalestone, though," he went on, sounding distinctly puzzled. "Does it look anything like a whale to you?"
The teen considered that. "Only if whales had wings," he said. "Which I don't remember from science class."
Waltfeld laughed. "That's the spirit, youngster. Yeah, it is a little- Oh, hello, Commander," he interrupted himself, as the door opened. "I didn't expect you back so soon."
Ken shrugged with his good shoulder. "Not much that can be done here, Andy," he said, wincing. "I got the bleeding stopped, but anything more will have to wait until I get to proper medical facilities."
"Ah. Well, I don't think I'll be keeping you that long, Falcon; you'll be able to get patched up soon enough."
"Don't worry yourself too much on my account, Andy," the pilot told him. "Remember, I was a lot worse off after Endymion."
"That's true," the Tiger acknowledged. "By the way," he said, changing the subject, "do you have any idea what the story was with that guy you cut in half out there?"
Ken allowed himself a slight grimace. "Only a slight one. I know he was the one responsible for my birth, and that some kind of experimentation was involved, but beyond that, I have no more idea than you. What I do know is that he didn't care much about keeping me alive; which was quite sufficient reason for me to deal with him. I can't afford to die yet."
"Ah, yes..." Waltfeld nodded. "The mysterious mission you're supposedly up to. Mind telling me about it?"
"Actually, I do," the ace said coldly. "In a manner of speaking, that is. I'd really like to tell you more -perhaps then you'd understand why my desertion and subsequent defection was so imperative- but I'm afraid it's much too dangerous." He took the coffee cup the Tiger offered him. "But I can tell you this: the next time you're in the PLANTs, you should make inquiries about Project GENESIS. That might be an eye-opener for you."
"I'll do that." And Waltfeld meant it; he wanted to know what could possibly have made this young man, previously such a staunch patriot and the mastermind behind some of ZAFT's best operations, leave behind everything he held dear, in an apparent betrayal of everything he believed in.
Unless... he's just using the Earth Forces to further his own ends... That possibility seemed very likely, all of a sudden; the Grimaldi Falcon was known to be ZAFT's modern-day Machiavelli, their most diabolical thinker. He was obviously sincerely defending the legged ship, but it would be entirely in character for him to be using the rest of the Earth Alliance for his own purposes.
The problem was that Commander Kenneth DiFalco's plans could, at times, be so complex that no one but the man behind them could see the true objective. There were rumors that an upcoming ZAFT operation that he'd planned, one which would soon, with luck, be approved by the Supreme Council, was one such case of misdirection; it was entirely possible that this was another. And that's why this guy is confusing everyone from Patrick Zala on down; nobody can figure out if he's a traitor or just engaging in the most insane covert operation even he has ever devised.
Giving up the analysis of Ken's motives as a lost cause, Waltfeld turned his attention to Kira. The youngster might not realize it -obviously didn't, in fact- but the Tiger knew exactly who he was. Not his name, perhaps... but there was no doubt that this was the Strike pilot.
Meeting the reality was something of a surprise. Waltfeld hadn't expected him to be so young. But that merely reinforced the conviction he'd come to after watching him fight: that the Strike pilot was not, in fact, a Natural at all. That he was actually, like his mentor, a Coordinator. I don't know what he's doing fighting for the Earth Forces... but the only Naturals I know of who can pull stunts like that are the Victorian Kestrel, and the Hawk of Endymion. And since he's neither female nor in his twenties...
The Tiger shrugged mentally, and shook of his thoughts. "That thing is the real cause of the war, you know," he said, nodding at the fossil. "Go far enough back, and you'll find it at the root of the conflict."
Ken nodded in agreement -he'd studied George Glenn and his achievements in great detail- but Kira gave him a blank look. "What do you mean, sir?"
The answer to that particular question had to wait, as the door opened again. "Through here," Aisha said, and Cagalli, now wearing a green dress, stepped hesitantly in.
Kira's jaw dropped almost to the floor; he'd never seen Cagalli dressed like that. But Ken's reaction, for all its restraint, was even more interesting.
The expression on his face was the same he'd had when he was shot.
In his mind, images of another blonde flitted past; memories from another time, when the woman in blue and gold had worn a very similar green dress, long before... It's like seeing a ghost, Ken thought, feeling as though he'd been punched in the gut. A piece of the past, brought back to life before my eyes... they look so much alike...
Kira's thoughts were rather less profound, if they currently existed at all, and were more along the lines of, Wow. His mouth worked a few times, without any sound coming out, and then he said perhaps the stupidest thing possible.
"You're... a girl."
Instantly, Cagalli raised a clenched fist at him. "What did you think, huh?" she demanded. "You already knew that!"
Kira flinched back, raising his hands defensively. "No, I mean... uh..." Actually, he wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but it wasn't what had come out.
Aisha and Waltfeld both burst out laughing; as much at their exchange as at Ken's startled look. Neither of them knew the significance of it, so they simply found it amusing.
Kira and Cagalli both flushed, then sat on the nearby couch without another word, while trying to pretend what had just happened hadn't. Oops, Kira thought, quite as embarrassed as his companion. That wasn't a very smart thing to say, was it?
Ken decided to break the uncomfortable silence. "I believe you were telling Kira about the root of the war?" he remarked to the Tiger.
Waltfeld nodded, still chuckling. "Uh, yeah, I guess I was. Anyway," he said, glancing again at the copy of Evidence 01, "when you think about it, it all comes down to that chunk of fossilized space whale that George Glenn brought back. First he announced the existence of Coordinators, then when he returned, he basically started it all with the study of this thing. That's what brought Coordinators to the forefront of history, and eventually led to the creation of the PLANTs."
Ken nodded. "And with the revelation and proliferation of Coordinators, it sowed the seeds of chaos," he said quietly. "Glenn, I think, didn't quite understand human nature. He was too much of an idealist to remember that humanity inevitably seizes upon differences as a reason to kill each other."
Cagalli gazed at him through narrowed eyes, looking between the ace and the ZAFT commander. "Just why are we having a civilized conversation here?" she demanded at last, eyes settling on Waltfeld. "Do you like to chat with your victims before you get rid of them?"
The tension that filled the room at that remark could have been cut with a knife. Kira edged a few centimeters closer to Cagalli, and Ken casually removed his trench coat, draping it on the couch, and thus revealing the bandages on his shoulder and side... and the sword sheathed at his left hip.
Waltfeld's own eyes narrowed momentarily, but an amiably smile remained on his face. "You've got lovely eyes, you know," he commented casually, and -apparently- irrelevantly. "Something... sincere about them." He stood, and meandered over to a table. "Very lovely eyes... and all too sincere," he went on, opening the table's drawer.
Ken watched him very carefully; he was tense enough that he didn't even find Cagalli's obvious outrage amusing. Beware, Andy, he thought, good hand resting casually on his katana's hilt. The most dangerous man...
"The problem here," Waltfeld mused, "is that there are no clear rules for ending a war like this. In other wars, it's over territory, or resources, or some other clear objective. But this one is driven simply by mutual hatred, with no clear goal in sight. So how do you determine the winners and the losers?" He picked something up from within the drawer. "At what point do you put an end to it?" The cocked and locked pistol came out of the drawer, aimed straight at the couch where two of his "guests" sat. "When every single one of your enemies had been eliminated?"
Cagalli came out of the couch as fast as her dress permitted, backing into a corner; Kira quickly followed her, staying protectively between her and the gun... while the Grimaldi Falcon drew his sword with most of his usual swiftness intact.
Waltfeld glanced at the ace. "You'd face me with a sword, maimed as you are?" he asked, sounding mildly amused; in his condition, the young pilot was able to hold his blade in his right hand only. "Lesson Forty," the Tiger quoted. "'Resistance without strength is meaningless.'"
Ken didn't blink. "Lesson Thirty-seven: True strength is in the mind, not the body." His eye narrowed dangerously. "If I can make sure those two get out of here, it will have been worth it. Next to Kira's life, mine means nothing."
Waltfeld nodded. "Ah, yes; as I thought." He looked over at Kira, whose eyes were clearly searching for a way out. "You can't defeat all of us, you know," he said conversationally; his aim, however, had shifted to what he perceived as the greater threat, as represented by the wounded swordsman. "Even if you do have Berserker capabilities, you can't overcome the fact that you're not the only Coordinator here."
Cagalli, her hand on Kira's shoulder, blinked in shock. "What? You're a...?"
Kira managed a nod. "Yeah." I'll explain later, he thought, promising himself that he would. But not now.
"I have no idea what your reasons are for fighting against your own people," the Tiger went on. "No doubt they're good ones, at least in your own mind. But that doesn't change the fact that we are enemies." He smiled slightly. "After all, the official reports may say that the Strike pilot is a Natural... but I'm not that gullible. I know exactly who and what you are, kid."
"And if you act on that," Ken said pleasantly, "I'll cut you in half." Metzinger's corpse proved that he was quite capable of it.
Waltfeld shook his head. "You'd actually try it, all by yourself, would you?"
"Lesson Thirty-six," another voice interjected. "'The most dangerous man is the one with nothing to lose.'" There was the distinctive sound of a pistol's slide being racked, chambering a round. "And he won't be all by himself."
The Desert Tiger turned to look, and his eyebrows went up. Kira stood as he had before, between his enemy and Cagalli; but now he held the gun he'd taken from Ken's trench coat, and if his eyes were still a little nervous, his aim was quite, quite steady. "Not bad," the ZAFT commander said respectfully. "I didn't even notice you grabbing it." He smiled. "Of course, your friend there always has been good at using his words to distract people from the true threat." He looked back at the ace. "Lesson Thirty-eight, right? 'Only seldom is true surprise achieved in battle; usually, it is simply that the commander misinterprets what he's seen all along'?"
The barest hint of a cold smile reached Ken's face. "Precisely, Commander. Though you should have known better; you saw Kira out there today."
"Yes, I did." Waltfeld looked Kira over. "So, you're willing to sacrifice your life for the girl, is it that right?"
"If I have to," Kira replied, managing to keep his voice steady. "We might not make it, but she will, if it costs us our lives; and you won't get out of this room."
"We'd make sure of that before we were cut down," Ken concurred. Inwardly, he was very impressed by Kira's actions here; and, more importantly, his attitude. Didn't think you had it in you, amigo, he thought. Flay hasn't managed to corrupt you all the way quite yet... Of course, after today she might not have the chance.
Waltfeld looked at them in silence for long moments, before finally smiling and lowering his weapon. "It kinda makes you wonder if there's no choice but for one of us to die," he said pleasantly.
Cagalli twitched. "You're letting us go?"
"Of course; this isn't a battlefield." He put away the pistol. "Today, Miss, we're meeting as fellow warriors; and yes, I know that you're one, too, dress or not. You have the look. Anyway, I have no reason to kill you here; and where would be the fun in killing helpless targets?" The Tiger smiled again. "Aisha will show you out; I'm sure you need to be getting back before your people start worrying too much, anyway."
Kira looked to his mentor, and Ken nodded fractionally. "Go. I'll follow; and keep the gun ready, just in case. If you know what I mean."
The younger pilot nodded. "Okay; but you'd better not take too long." He looked back at his companion. "Come on, Cagalli. Let's go."
As the two exited, Waltfeld called, "See you on the battlefield!" Then he looked over at Ken, who was only now returning his weapon to its sheath. "Just as well you stuck around, Falcon; I'd like to talk to you for a few moments in private."
The ace met his gaze cautiously. "Oh?"
"Yes." The Tiger folded his arms. "What you just proved, in my mind, is that however it may look to others, you genuinely believe in whatever mad scheme you're currently running; I know enough about you to know that you wouldn't be so willing to lay down your life for the kid otherwise. Now, I don't honestly know if what you're doing is really going to do the PLANTs much good; the fact that you've killed ZAFT pilots is evidence against that. But... you only killed when you had no choice, didn't you?"
Ken nodded slowly. "Yes. At Heliopolis, two GINNs; for all the good it did. Those simple-minded missiles blew the place up anyway. Then a single recon GINN in the Debris Belt -we couldn't risk being found just then- and six BuCUEs, the first night we were here." He closed his eye. "I didn't want to do that," he said quietly, "but I couldn't risk disabling attacks. Not when I'd never fought under full gravity before."
Waltfeld nodded. "I thought as much." He smiled slightly. "Now, what I wanted to say to you is this: I may not agree with what you're doing -I haven't decided yet, particularly since I'm not really sure what you're doing- but you obviously believe it's for the good of the homeland, and I respect that. So, if you have any message you want to pass along, I'll make sure it gets where it's going."
The pilot considered that, and finally reached into a pocket of his trench coat. "Get this to the Clyne Residence," he said, handing the commander a disc, "and I'll be grateful."
The other man took it, frowning. "The Clyne Residence? Don't tell me the Chairman himself is up to his neck in whatever you're doing."
Ken snorted. "Hardly; I barely know the man. But the head of his bodyguard is a former member of my team, Sparky Cooper. He'll make sure it gets where it's going beyond that."
Waltfeld shrugged. "All right, then. I'll take your word for it that this is, in the end, for the best; but don't expect me to go easy on you on the battlefield. I know my duty."
"I wouldn't expect you to do otherwise, Commander," the ace replied. "But somehow, I don't think it'll be much of an issue." Another faint smile. "Kira's your real interest, isn't he?"
The commander smiled himself. "He's the first real challenge I've had in awhile," he admitted. "The last one was your sister -the Kestrel is your sister, right?- and that was last year. Oh, and give Sophia my best, will you?"
"Certainly," Ken agreed, now heading for the door. "I hope that we may see each other again, Andy, somewhere other than the battlefield... but I wouldn't count on it."
"Neither would I," Waltfeld said softly. "Crazy world..."
As Ken passed out of the doors to the outside world at last, he couldn't help chuckling to himself. Sophia's going to have a heart attack, he thought to himself. But she'll probably be flattered, too; after all, how often do you get "best wishes" from one of your most dangerous adversaries?
Author's note: The Strike pilot and the Desert Tiger have met at last; and Falcon has met his "father", and been forced to kill him. Soon, the truth of his unique birth will be revealed…
By the way, can anyone tell me where I can find some information about Rondo Mina Sahaku? If I can learn enough about her, she'll be making an appearance -or two, or three- in A Call to Arms. After all, since they're both members of the Orb nobility, she and Kevin would obviously know each other. I figure the interaction would be… interesting.
Infinite Freedom, I enjoy being unpredictable; makes it a lot easier to surprise people at the appropriate times.
The power cord will be explained within the next three or four chapters; but I will not comment on it now. Sequence and order, time and stress, as I always say (if you don't believe me, check a couple of my other entries).
I suppose, however, that there's no harm in explaining what I meant about Huckebein's death. It seems to me that it will be appropriate for their duel to finish as it started: blade to blade. Only this time, it'll be a little more final. Of course, I won't say when or where this will take place.
Sophia may or may not enter the Berserker state; but probably not. There really isn't any reason to. She will, however, get a mobile suit, which will be hinted at in the next chapter.
I'll say this about what happens to the remains of Raptor: it will be used to upgrade an existing mobile suit. I won't say which, but I think it'll be properly unexpected.
Shiho's role is hinted at in this chapter, as you probably noticed; but I must say here that I don't know much about her at all, except for her mobile suit, so I'll be kind of winging it. My apologies in advance if she seems out of character.
I think I can safely say that Victor Tempest will be involved in Spit Break. That's such a major operation that it's unlikely he wouldn't be involved.
ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, sometimes I wonder the same thing. Sometimes, a story seems to write itself; but I think it shan't disappoint.
Ninofchaos, I quite understand about computer problems. You may have noticed a story of mine called The Will to Power? Well, I had to completely rewrite the first chapter of it, because my computer decided to dump the whole thing -eight pages worth- without ever telling me why. Needless to say, I was quite irritated. So yes, I understand completely.
As for Ahmed, the main reason he was kept alive was because I couldn't think of any way to keep him dead in this version, what with two G-weapons coming to the rescue.
Windbreaker, it was stated early in the story that I did not intend to extend this into Destiny. However, I'm now reconsidering that, so it is a possibility. It would, however, take a lesser priority than Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms, which is a Destiny project I've been planning since the first story was completed, back in July.
Ominae, it sounds kind of interesting; I just may have to check it out.
As regards Ahmed, again, I wasn't sure how to keep him dead, under the circumstances, so it was simpler to keep him alive.
Easy-Company-506-101, I know exactly what you mean. Some of the typos are certainly my fault -I can't catch them all- but it is a fact that when I upload, I have to debug it. For some reason, any paragraph that begins in italics will be entirely italicized, and, if the cases where there's non-italics mixed which more italics, the paragraph will be duplicated. I first noticed that with the first chapter of Brothers in Arms, and it took me days to get it all straightened out. Even now, it still won't let me put an exclamation point and a question mark side by side; one or the other, depending on order, will be deleted. I have no idea why, but it really, really irritates me. This is one reason you'll frequently find me complaining at the end of a chapter about how long it took me to get it ready, because writing the notes is only the first half of the job.
I paid particular attention to getting the names right; it drives me nuts when I see so many misspelled names. I can generally ignore it, but it still irritates me, so I always make sure to use the official spellings. (Which reminds me: I'm not sure I spelled the black market weapons dealer's name right; I'll have to check.)
Happy Birthday, by the way; I figured I'd make sure this chapter was ready today. Though I'm not sure I'll be able to post this tonight, since the site seems to be having problems.
Storm Wolf77415, I agree with you there; but it'll be awhile yet. Next chapter, by the way, will go a little more in-depth into Tempest's motivations…
Centurious, I'm glad I could help; I wasn't sure, since I'm not really that good at explaining how I do what I do.
Antilles, I'm glad you like it. Interestingly, Falcon wasn't originally going to be in a mentor role like that; it just kind of worked out that way, and I'd have to say it was a good thing. It seems to be working well.
You'll notice that there are several more of his Lessons in this chapter; I've thought of thirty-seven of them so far, and I'm using them as the situation warrants. They won't be coming quite as thick and fast as they are here in most chapters, but you'll find them scattered about. At least one will be something of a tie-in, thus turning one of Le Creuset's lines in Phase 35 into a quote. You'll see what I mean.
Warp Ligia Obscura, Ahmed won't really have anything more to contribute to the plot than he did in the series; it's just that, as explained earlier, the way things happened seemed to be the only way that would fit with this version of the story. There was no logical way t kill him off, so alive he stayed.
Yes, there is something of a practical reason for leaving Tempest alive; but the main thing is that, while Falcon wants him dead, he's too professional to let his personal feelings interfere in a battle. At the moment, he'll settle for making sure "The Raven" is removed from the tactical situation, even if it means merely disabling him.
Thanks for the information about Canard Pars; I found it quite interesting, though I'm not sure if I can find any legitimate reason for him to be making an appearance in this story. His mobile suit type, on the other hand… that may be a possibility (this is an AU, after all).
So Cagalli really is a Natural? Huh. I assumed, especially after SEED Phase 41, that she was a Coordinator; and I know other people did, as well. Hm. Well, it hasn't been stated outright in this story yet, and, again, this is an AU, so if I decide to go with it anyway, it shouldn't be a problem; especially with another major alteration I'm considering.
I would assume that you mean Rey never detaches the DRAGOON system in the atmosphere, right? Otherwise, it's not a true DRAGOON system at all. "DRAGOON" stands for "Disconnected Rapid Armament Group Overlook Operation Network", so if it's not detached, it's not a DRAGOON system.
Since just about anything, especially something wing-shaped, can get off the group with sufficient thrust -and a nuclear-powered mobile suit has power to burn- I don't see any problem with having Preybird's DRAGOON system atmosphere-capable. But it wouldn't have anything to do with Terminal in the first place; if memory serves, Terminal isn't a factor until Destiny, and Falcon will be getting the Preybird long before then.
Garcia may have survived into the Destiny timeline, but in neither A Call to Arms nor the hypothetical sequel to this story will he be a factor. In one version, Kevin Walker blew his heart out, and in the other, he got stuck in a decompressing closet.
Lipana, I was talking about the first Phase 41; as I've said at least a dozen times, I've never seen Destiny, just read episode summaries, so unless specifically noted otherwise, you can assume I'm talking about the first series.
Now, what I was specifically referring to was Cagalli's line to Kira, late in Trembling World: "If you and I are siblings, then what am I?" I took that to mean that she was, in fact, a Coordinator, and since the series never says one way or the other… And yes, I know Uzumi said she was a Natural, but that was before he admitted she even had a brother, so didn't put much stock in it.
I'm not denying that a Natural couldn't compete against a Coordinator, by the way; I never said anything of the sort. The point was that it was highly unlikely for a Natural that age and experience going toe-to-toe with a Coordinator who's been training in the martial arts since childhood, in addition to being the one codenamed "The Terrible One" (something which will be explained next chapter). It is a fact that Coordinators mature faster, and, by extension, can be trained faster.
Though whether Cagalli is a Natural or a Coordinator, her going SEED shouldn't be that much of a surprise or source of puzzlement. According to the official website's glossary, the SEED factor, while rare, has nothing to do with whether one is Natural or Coordinator; either can possess the SEED.
As I said before, Cagalli won't be flying a Skygrasper in that battle because I had something else in mind; and really, all she does is shoot a land battleship, slice it up a little, and get shot down. Perhaps thirty seconds total screen time in battle. Believe me, it'll still be quite the battle; and her being in the gunner's seat of the Raptor will help lead into my modifications of Phases 23 and 24. Similar to events in Brothers in Arms, I suppose, but completely different in tone and atmosphere; you'll see what I mean. Although, I suppose if it's that much of a problem not having her flying something on her own in that desert battle, I can probably figure something out. Either way, it should be in the next chapter; Phase 20 has little of much consequence for this version of events, and I found the episode deathly boring anyway.
Stormturmoil, I kind of get the point now about Cagalli being a Natural; I caught enough flak about it already. But, just to thorough, I may as well point out a few things.
First of all, Le Creuset may be the clone of a Natural, but it seems pretty clear to me that Al Da Flaga had him modified into a Coordinator in the process. My reasoning? He's flying a mobile suit at the very start, long before a Natural-adapted OS is created. Yes, I know Mu flies a mobile suit later on, but notice that he himself says that he couldn't fly the Strike, and Erica Simmons mentions installing the new OS in the Strike, before he ever flies it.
Point taken about why Canard Pars telomeres would be basically unaffected; but I should note that there is never any indication that Kira himself is a clone. The way I understand it, Hibiki used his own son for the project, and -presumably- learned enough from the failures to make sure that the actual Kira survived the process (or maybe it was just dumb luck; either way, I'm pretty sure he's not a clone).
Finally, Cagalli is not "a few months" older than Kira. It's entirely possible that she's the older twin, but the official website notes that they have the same birthday, which was one reason picked up on their connection a little before it was officially revealed (that and the fact that they have the same blood type).
Anyway, thanks for reviewing; and believe me, compared to some others I could mention that wasn't a long post at all. Besides, I do enjoy these discussions, even if it takes me eons to write the notes.
NukeDawg, I'm actually glad to hear you like Never Ending Tomorrow; I'd come across mixed reviews for it, and, though I was prepared to disregard them anyway, it's good to have some confirmation. The only reason I haven't tried it yet I lack of opportunity; I shall be doing so as soon as possible.
I'll be looking forward to your Brothers in Arms AU; I doubt anything in it will come as that much of a surprise, having read A New Saga, but it'll be interesting to see more of Aelan's past.
Argh; ninety minutes and 2200 words of notes. My fingers are getting tired from all this typing. Well, I hope the chapter was acceptable; let me know, please. Till next time. -Solid Shark