New Year's surprise and a massive apology from me for the delay. I had the entire dialogue for this chapter finished for months, but only crunched out the rest literally just now and only by staying up until 5 AM local time to get it off my back at long last. As mentioned in places, real-life problems got in the way and I completely stopped writing for half a year due to general disillusionment.
Still need to get my other ongoing fic's upcoming chapter finished before I can consider myself back in the saddle, but that's gonna be a whole another hurdle. As one might've noticed, I absolutely suck at writing framing narration during dialogue scenes, which (coupled with long intervals between writing and me forgetting things between them, another curse of long-term procrastination) is why most of this chapter might feel a bit shoddy. Expect no action in this chapter or the next one; there'll be time for that later.
"Third time's the charm, I'll fucking say!" – Ryu's hand slapping on Amuro's back echoed across the hangar of the White Base like a whip's crack. – "I don't know how you pulled that off, but holy hell, kid!"
"I got lucky." – Amuro replied, shifting his shoulder. Experience or not, his current body was still that of a teenager and Ryu was anything but physically wimpy. In other words, that slap hurt.
"Ray!" – Looking back, the two saw Kemp floating towards them in zero gravity, shooting a quick "Not you, doctor!" under his arm in Tem's direction. Grabbing a hold on the walkway's rail, he swung himself over it and on his feet next to the two with the smoothness of an experienced spacer. – "Did I not tell you to not try to take him on by yourself?"
"I wasn't trying to. He came after me and I was running low on ammo. I improvised."
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, LT." – Ryu commented. – "As far as I'm concerned, the bastard got what was coming for him, however it happened."
"Well, I for one would like to hear the tale." – Cassius announced his presence behind Ryu and Amuro, casually returning the salute from both pilots (and Amuro, whose salute drew an odd look from Kemp). – "If you don't mind."
"I have no idea what he did, sir, but the Zaku went off like a fireworks rocket." – Kemp replied. – "Full throttle and no control, it just fell to pieces."
"I was out of missiles and he knew I was the softer target." – Amuro began explaining as the quartet stepped out of the hangar and into the corridor beyond so as to not be in the way for the hangar crew. – "He kept coming after me, so I took cover and bailed out next to one of the ship's turrets. When he saw the Core Fighter, he didn't immediately realize I wasn't in it anymore, which gave me an opening to shoot him in the back. I must've hit something critical for it to go off like that."
Silence reigned after his words, everyone just staring at him with dumbfounded expressions.
Eventually, Cassius slowly said – "You... shot him down with a turret."
"Yes, sir."
"You shot the Red Comet down with a battleship turret."
"I hit the engine governor, I think."
"How did you even know where it was?" – Kemp asked.
"I didn't. It was just a lucky hit." – And it wasn't even a lie. Amuro had seen far too many mobile suit models and variants throughout his life to remember in-depth technical details about all of them. If anything, the only one he could probably recite off the top of his head was the Nu Gundam and even that he wasn't sure was possible to describe with what his father worked on as an analogue. That being said, there were certain general engineering principles to all mobile suits which gave him a decent guess of where to look for certain things if he had to.
"Lucky, my ass. Talk about one-in-a-million!" – Ryu enthused with the biggest grin on his face Amuro had ever seen. In both his lives. – "Oh, the sheer fucking humiliation he has to be feeling right now... serves him right." – A moment later, an idea occurred to him and he turned to Cassius with a devious look. – "Captain, would it be too much to ask the brass to spread this tale far and wide? I don't want the bastard to ever live this down."
"I can sympathize with the sentiment, but that would need us to reveal mister Ray's identity." – Cassius pointed out.
"Not necessarily." – Amuro spoke up. – "I mean, a civilian doing what five battleships and a few dozen pilots couldn't? They'd never let me claim the kill anyway because it'd make them look bad."
Outside his field of view, Kemp's eyebrow twitched.
"Besides, he's not even dead." – the teen continued. – "I saw him bail out."
"Not to second-guess you on that but even if the did, he won't pick another fight with us any time soon unless he gets reinforcements. If intel's accurate about the hangar capacity of a Musai, he's fresh out of Zakus. That being said..." – Cassius looked at the others. – "I don't suppose anyone here knows how to pilot a spaceship, do you?"
"Not me, sir." – Kemp replied. – "Why?"
"Char killed our pilot with his opening salvo." - Amuro's stomach dropped at Cassius' words before he remembered that Mirai was not, in fact, the pilot who flew the White Base to Side 7. Not that it really helped: he heard that at least some of the civilians got off the ship before they even departed and with the kind of scrutiny he had been under, it's not like he could walk around the ship looking to see if she was still on board this time. Not to mention that she didn't even know him. – "I know we could figure it out ourselves, but I'd prefer if we reached Luna II before Char calls reinforcements. I'm open to suggestions."
"Is the LT's mobile suit still flightworthy?" – Ryu asked.
"It should be." – Kemp sent a glance towards the Gundam and Amuro followed, spotting his father inspecting the beam saber stab wound on the torso between orders barked towards the other technicians in the middle of attaching the harness for separating the Core Top from the rest of the mobile suit. – "Why?"
"I figure, why not send someone to Luna II and ask them to send over a pilot on a launch to fly us in?"
"Good idea. We don't even need to send the Gundam, the Core Fighter alone should be enough."
"What about the civilians who are still on board?" – Amuro spoke up, attention back to the discussion. – "Some of them might have a shuttle license or something."
"Listen, Ray-" – Kemp started, only to be shushed by Cassius' raised hand.
"Know anyone in particular?"
"No, sir. One of my friends has a license for heavy machinery, but that's it."
Cassius nodded. – "I'll ask around, then. If no dice, we'll go with José's plan. Lieutenant, is that fine with you?"
"Yes, sir." – Kemp replied before sighing. – "I just don't think we should make a habit out of press-ganging civilians. I know we're short on manpower, but this is a military vessel flying combat missions during wartime. They shouldn't even be here, let alone doing our work for us."
"Opinion noted, but we're about to fly into the fleet's largest orbital military base. I doubt we can drop them off until we reach Earth and if they're already using oxygen and rations, we might as well let them volunteer for non-combat duties to pull their weight if they want." – Cassius glanced at his chronometer for a moment. – "Alright, so that's our game plan. I'll go ask around the civvies. Kemp, go catch a breather; I'll let you know in half an hour whether you're go or no go. José, let Lt. Ray know what we discussed." – Finally he turned to leave the hangar, but not before gesturing in Amuro's direction. – "Mister Ray, a word."
Dren was in the middle of discussing repair priorities with one of the Falmel's technicians when he saw a flash of red from the corner of his eye as his superior officer abruptly appeared, without Dren even having known he had already returned to the ship.
Come to think of it, he didn't even feel the slight shudder of a Zaku entering the hangar and being locked down.
He was about to ask what happened when a wave of... something he couldn't quite put a finger on washed over him so strongly that he decided otherwise.
Char said absolutely nothing as he went past him, Dren silently following. By the time they reached Char's quarters, several people noticed the silent procession and gathered around to see what was going on until Char went inside without a word and the door's lock indicator light turned red the instant it closed.
Ten seconds of the assembled crew looking at each other in complete puzzlement passed... then everyone flinched as a positively bestial scream of absolute rage came from the room, along with the sound of something violently hitting the metal bulkheads from the other side.
Another ten seconds later, there wasn't a single soul in the corridor outside said room as the sounds of destruction continued.
"Well." – Cassius began as soon as the door to the briefing room closed behind him and Amuro, motioning at the teen to take a seat. – "I'm guessing you probably knew we'd have a talk like this sooner or later. I mean, I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth after all you've done for us, but I wouldn't have been chosen for this command if the EFSF admiralty considered me someone who doesn't pay attention to details. And you have to admit that the whole situation with you is... well, dare I say suspicious. See, I asked around a bit yesterday and both Lt. Ray and that girl he said is your friend were very much convinced that you never received any kind of formal military training and most definitely never learned how to pilot a mobile suit. Yet here you are, one kill away from making ace after all but literally running rings around one of Zeon's most notorious aces. How in the world did you pull that off?"
Which was the one specific question Amuro expected was going to come up eventually. While he didn't really like lying, he also knew that the exact, full truth would be dismissed as impossible and/or unbelievable... and as reluctant as he was to admit, even he would've dismissed it had someone else claimed to have happened it to them. Because even after everything he had seen and experienced, this incident forced Amuro Ray to realize that he still didn't actually know all that much about what Newtypes could be capable of.
So he decided to answer with what he did know.
"I read the manual."
Understandably enough, the captain didn't seem satisfied with the answer. – "And somehow ended up being on par with someone who was doing it for months longer than you are."
"It's the Gundam. Its specs far outperform those of the Zaku."
Which was also true, both technically and otherwise.
"That may be the case, but there's only so much the machine can do without a capable pilot. No amateur should be capable of doing what you've done, which is an assessment both Lt. Ray and Lt. Kemp agree with."
...oh. So his father noticed it too. Amuro's mind flashed back to the rather... unpleasant time he last saw the man in his... well, his previous life. And it was definitely not something he desired to be subjected to again.
"Although I don't wish to jump the gun, at this point the most obvious conclusion is that you are a Zeon sleeper agent recruited, trained and planted ahead of the raid so that you can make off with one of the prototypes as soon as the chance presents itself."
Now that was something Amuro did not want to hear. – "I am not with Zeon!" – he declared with heat behind his tone, a small part of him incensed at the sheer gall someone would accuse him, of all people, of standing with Zeon after having spent literally half his life fighting them in one way or another. Yet the greater part of him immediately put a lid on that line of thought, forcing him to close his eyes, inhale, then exhale, forcing his temper down. 'Calm down. He doesn't know that. He couldn't know. Don't fault him.'
If Cassius noticed his inner turmoil, he didn't show it beyond a slight raise of his eyebrow.
"That's my own personal assessment as well." – the man continued. – "However, given the importance of our mission, you cannot rightfully expect the brass to not grill you over the same topic as soon as we arrive to Luna II and while I don't exactly treat regulations as if they were the Holy Bible, the Earth Federation Armed Forces' Uniform Code of Military Justice mandates that a firing squad is the least you can expect for treason and espionage during wartime. And after what Zeon did in the war so far, you can most likely expect worse if we catch you colluding with them."
Of that, Amuro had no doubt, remembering certain rumors he heard about a string of retaliatory terror bombings in Side 3 committed by former Titans personnel after Side 3 surrendered to Haman without a shot. He never could find out if it ever actually happened, but there were quite a few of former Titans personnel who were accused of war crimes but nearly escaped prosecution due to lack of evidence from an awful lot of bureaucratic resistance to declassifying relevant mission reports, certain circles having apparently decided that obstruction of justice is the lesser evil to having the Federation itself lose face.
In such an atmosphere, he had no illusion about being let off the hook if someone decided that troop morale needed a kick from the capture and execution of a "spy".
"Again, this isn't a question of your abilities; hell, you saved all our lives at this point." – Cassius stressed. – "This is a question of trust. You said that you want to help us and we could use your help. But if I'm to let that happen, I need to know whether I can trust you. So as stupid as it's probably going to sound of me directly asking it to your face, I'm asking anyway: are you with Zeon?"
"No." – Amuro replied, this time in a level tone. He didn't need to pretend not lying.
"Did your father reveal military secrets to you to instruct you in how to pilot a mobile suit?"
"No."
"Then where did you learn how to do it?"
"The manual." – Which was also true.
About 14 years ago, that is.
"You know an official interrogator is not going to take that answer at face value, do you?"
Yes, he did know, but he didn't have anything else worth saying, damn it! The annoyance of which he didn't quite keep off his tongue when he next opened his mouth. – "What am I supposed to say, that I'm actually a veteran pilot who somehow traveled back in time?"
Luckily for him, Cassius just gave a good-natured shrug at the sarcastic remark that was making Amuro internally kick himself the second it left his mouth. – "Preferably not, or they'll have you out on your butt before you can say 'contempt of a superior officer'. And by the way, I know about your attempted break-in at the research facility."
That was a statement Amuro wasn't expecting. – "What break-in?"
"You, that Shiden boy and a couple others who never made it to the ship but we didn't have the time to round up before we left Side 7. We have a security incident report corroborated by Lt. Kemp that you and a couple others tried to force your way past the main gate with a vehicle and had to be turned away by armed guards. Lt. Kemp apparently decided under his own jurisdiction to not report it due to your involvement meaning Lt. Ray would've had to go through security screening, which would've resulted in delays in Project V while he was unavailable."
Oh, that. Amuro genuinely couldn't remember something like that ever happening, but now that he heard the details it was faintly starting to come back to him. And now that Cassius mentioned just why there was no follow-up to it, Amuro realized just how big of a bullet he dodged there back then if that lieutenant doing his job would've meant the Gundam wasn't combat-ready when Char showed up.
It gave him chills to even think about it.
"However, cutting bureaucratic corners like that was his prerogative and as someone not involved in the project, I'm not going to question it." – Cassius continued. – "All I'm saying is that I think it's time we lay our cards on the table, mister Ray. You're not with Zeon, we established that. But you, a civilian, still commandeered top secret military equipment without permission which is worth incarceration even in peacetime. However, we are at war and can scarcely afford to chase after you while Zeon is laying on the pressure on all fronts. Not to mention that you've put your own life on the line for us without being asked to, for which you'd get a medal pinned to your chest under normal circumstances. So, as the old saying goes, favor for a favor. I'm already convinced of your ability to pitch in, so I'm considering an official recommendation to the brass to commit your sentence to military service."
"Conscription." – Amuro guessed immediately. Not that he considered it a bad thing; he had no intention of staying out of the war anyway, even if he had to hijack and hotwire a random Zaku on foot with nothing but a grappling hook and an assault rifle. Which, for the record, he had never done or even tried before; once panoramic cockpits were invented, infantry assault training for capturing active mobile suits fell into obscurity due to the obvious difficulty in sneaking up on a mobile suit that literally has eyes in every direction and silhouette recognition algorithms that can identify the shape of a human and alert the pilot to the attacker's approach.
"In essence, yes. If you just walked up to them like you are, they'd shuffle you off to non-combat support to shut you up. A recommendation of a commissioned Captain of the EFSF, on the other hand, now that will get you somewhere." – Cassius shifted on his seat and bent slightly forward to look him directly in the eye. – "But before I'll do anything, I need to know what your angle is. Is there anything else about you that you think I should know? Any other improbable and fantastic skills that could save the day?"
Amuro glanced aside, pondering for a moment just what to say and how much. Telling the truth was right out; nobody would believe him anyway. And as level-headed Paolo Cassius seemed to be so far, Amuro hadn't gotten to know him at all before the man died. Hell, the lack of a hospital bed in the room and the lack of a certain ensign taking charge out of necessity was already blind territory for him. But in the end, the teen decided that since he was asking nicely...
"I... don't really know, actually. I just have these... flashes, sometimes."
"What flashes?"
"When suddenly it all just... clicks. Probably just gut feeling, I don't know."
To his credit, the captain didn't seem overly skeptical at that, leaning back and crossing his hands on his lap to gaze at him quizzically. – "Hm. Is that made you get into the mobile suit?"
"No. That was my decision."
"How so?"
That was a question Amuro could answer without hesitation. – "I don't want more people to die."
"We're at war. People die."
"I know. But if I can do something that makes less people die, isn't it worth doing?"
"Those Zaku pilots died and by your hands, even." – Cassius pointed out.
"Do you think they would've stopped shooting if we just asked them nicely?"
"Of course not."
"That's why I shot them down." – Amuro replied seriously. – "What else could I have done, cower somewhere until the shooting stops? They could've killed my friends next, followed by my father and probably you too."
"You could have handed the it over to the Zekes instead, in exchange for your friends." – Cassius pointed out in hypotheticals.
"Which would've ended with the Federation getting buried under mass-production Gundams in a few months." – Of course, Amuro knew that was an exaggeration, having a decent idea about the price tag of an RX-78, but Cassius didn't have to know that. It would've, however, gotten him manhunted by the Titans as a collaborator down the line, if things had ever gotten to that. – "Zeon doesn't have the kind of manpower and industrial resources to face the Federation soldier-for-soldier, which is why they threw their resources into mobile suits: to flip the table with something the Federation had no effective answer for at the time. If the Federation develops mobile suits of their own, Zeon will lose their advantage and with Char having survived to tell the tale, they now know for a fact that this is exactly what's going to happen soon. So, they're going to step up their own development and might even restart offensive operations to try and finish us off before we catch up to them. Which makes this ship's mission that much more crucial for the Federation and hindering it that much more crucial for Zeon."
By the time Amuro finished his summary, Cassius' eyebrows were nearer to his hairline than he had ever seen, the man not even trying to hide his surprise. – "...you've got one hell of a head on your shoulders, mister Ray, I'll give you that. That still doesn't tell me much about what your angle is."
"I'm doing this because I can't just sit and watch any longer." – Amuro replied, eyes momentarily unfocusing as he remembered not just the One Year War, but every tragedy that followed.
As well as the knowledge that only he knew what was coming and just how limited his options were at doing something about it. The weight of it all was like the Gundam's foot on his shoulder.
But then... that's how it always has been. For him, for Kamille, for that AEUG pilot he never met in person during the First Neo Zeon war. Where Gundam went, suffering followed. And for every survivor in front of him, there were five graves behind him, half of it filled by the Gundam itself.
"I've been following the war in the news for months now, I know how many people died. I just want it to stop."
"By killing Zekes?" – Cassius pressed, evidently trying to poke him for gung-ho impulses.
"I don't want to kill anyone. I want the ones who started this brought to justice."
That seemed to have given the man pause. – "The Zabis, I'm guessing."
"Yes, sir." – Amuro nodded. – "Whatever good intentions Zeon Deikun had in the beginning, the Zabis twisted it all into evil. I won't lie, I support spacenoid independence but not like this." – he stressed, tapping the briefing table for every word. – "Not through violence. Humanity shouldn't leave Earth only to start killing each other arguing over whose souls are dragged down by gravity. We're all human, isn't that what should matter?"
Cassius stayed silent for a long time after that, making Amuro begin to wonder if he had said too much when he spoke up again. – "If you believe violence is wrong, what are you doing in a mobile suit?"
Amuro just sighed, fourteen years' worth of resignation behind his words. – "Sometimes fighting is the only way to make others stop fighting. It'd be better for everyone if the world didn't work that way, but it does. It's up to us to make the best of it."
Four hours later, Char's eyes slowly cracked open as his brain registered his body softly bouncing off of the wall in the zero-gee environment, eyes sweeping around to take in the sight of practically everything not nailed down in the room haphazardly floating around him.
Along with a few things that were nailed down. Key word, were.
Some of which were now in more than one piece, like the wooden chair that used to rest in front of his room's desk, its magnetic legs now distributed across the floor, ceiling and one of the walls.
He felt... drained.
He should've known.
He should've known it wasn't going to be that easy.
Everything was stacked in his favor, far more than back all those years ago: armed to the teeth, full intel about what the Gundam is capable of, the Gundam being flown by an inexperienced pilot... and he ended up being shot down not even by the Gundam itself, but a Core Fighter.
And now here he was, sulking and throwing tantrums like some kind of petulant child. How had he fallen this far? How could he? Losing his wingmen was one thing he could live with regardless of what that brute Dozle would say, but being out of mobile suits meant that his options narrowed down to either kamikaze-charging half the EFSF in one heavily damaged Musai with an obvious outcome... or flying back to Solomon in disgrace, having lost every single mobile suit under his command in addition to failing his mission to add insult to injury.
Without a sound, Char numbly kicked himself off towards his quarters' private lavatory. But as much as it would've helped, washing his face couldn't wash off the dark thoughts and as he paused just long enough for his eyes to gaze into their own mirror images between his fingers, he barely restrained himself from continuing the destruction of his room with the mirror.
This was pathetic. No, worse than that. His pride was all but howling in agony. He had half a mind to do something incredibly reckless, just to do something. Anything was better than just sitting here and letting the situation going to hell even worse than it already did. He had no intention of dying in a suicide attack, yet he had no wish to humiliate himself by retreating.
...that reckless action was starting to feel increasingly appealing to him. In fact, the longer he thought about it, the more details his mind came up with regarding the execution.
He paused in his thoughts for several seconds... then sighed and very nearly slammed his forehead into the nearest bulkhead. What in the world was he doing?
He was the man who led a bunch of fresh cadets not even out of the military academy yet to surprise-attack a Federation military garrison and won.
He was the man who snuck into Jaburo practically all by himself and got away with it by the skin of his teeth.
He was the man who assassinated a spymaster with an RPG to the face and got away with it due to none of the witnesses having survived.
He was the man who raided a Titans military base, made off with their gear and trashed several times as much in the middle of escaping pursuit.
He was the man who, as a wanted terrorist and war criminal, walked into the Federation Assembly and openly declared his identity in a live broadcast to the entire world just to get their attention.
He was the man who launched a frontal assault on Kilimanjaro and won.
He was the man who flew into the firing chamber of a charging colony laser, fought his way out of there and battled Haman Karn to a standstill in an inferior machine.
He was the man who nearly pulled off the second biggest genocide in written human history and dared the entire Federation military to come after him, just to lure his rival out into the open to settle an old score.
He was Char Aznable, the man who practically breathed reckless.
What in the world was he hesitating for now?
Five minutes later, as he was about to leave the room, Char paused as he felt something was off. It took him a moment to notice he was missing his mask - but as a broken piece of plastic drifted past his face, his brain finally clicked and supplied the memory of said mask shattering into pieces against the wall from the sheer force he threw it with in his anger.
He was about to turn around and fetch a pair of sunglasses (as generation after generation of spacenoids discovered, they were actually fairly handy to have in space as eye protection against sun glare) when he stopped himself and after a second turned back towards the door.
There was no turning back now.
He was done hiding.
No matter how many crewmen paused in their duties to gawk at his maskless visage, Char didn't care. Not even when he entered the Falmel's bridge and Dren joined the staring for a while before catching himself and saluting.
"S-sir. Should I set a course for Solomon?"
"Not yet."
Standing in front of the window, Char's gaze swept across the gray hulk of Luna II in the distance, the thin haze of distant memories fluttering across his mind as he remembered the unsuccessful attempt to raid the dock of the White Base while the defenders were in disarray from the demolition charges he and his men planted.
What he thought of next was slightly less flashy, but if it worked... no. He wouldn't drink to the possibility of his victory just yet. First, he needed to make it happen.
"Dren." – Char spoke up suddenly without turning around, knowing that his XO was already paying attention to him. – "I'm going to need the latest intel about Luna II's internal schematics, as well as Federation patrols in the area, then have helm take us as close as Minovsky interference will allow."
Behind him, Dren turned as white as a sheet. – "You're not seriously thinking of attacking Luna II, sir?!" – he all but exclaimed, everyone on the bridge staring at the two of them, visibly wondering whether their ship was the next to be lost in a 'glorious charge' the likes of which curiously never gets mentioned beyond the commanding officer's service record.
"Of course not." – Char replied smoothly, eyes still locked on Luna II as his mind flashed back to that Core Fighter. – "I'd just like to have a parting word with our gracious hosts for the past day before we return to Solomon."
'Whoever you are, my friend... let's see how you like it when I return the favor.'
Post-it author's notes – 2020.12.31.
Under normal circumstances, a Musai-class light cruiser has hangar room for four Zakus, plus two additional ones in the Komusai shuttle's cargo bay. While this was enough in the war's early months, Zeon engineers ran into trouble when the Rick Dom entered service and turned out to be too bulky to fit more than one into a Musai's hangar, forcing the engineers to convert some Musais to carrying Doms by stripping out one of the beam turrets to make room for enough hangar space to house a second Dom (plus a third in the Komusai). Not all Musais were converted to the new configuration, however, as the number of Zakus produced during the One Year War far outstripped any other mobile suit save for maybe the GM and these Zakus still needed transportation.
I'm not aware if Origin ever had Amuro's stunt at the R&D facility have consequences beyond the confiscation of Tem's home office gear, as I only saw the OVAs which do not cover the matter. The explanation above is my own.