Archangel's Amazing Adventures

by CSS Stravag

Mass Crossover fic. Chapter 51 UP! Powerful magic draws the Archangel and the ZAFT Creuset Team into a world of magic and intrigue like nothing imagined by the straight-laced CE residents. Their battles on Cephiro are only the beginning of their nightmarish journey as they give Odysseus a run for his money in the 'bizarre trip home' category...

38. Victories of Many Sizes

(Archangel's Amazing Adventures, Set 4, Chapter 9: Victories of Many Sizes)

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is a small departure from canon in here. Please see the notes at the end for explanation.)

(7 December AC195, 1800 Hours)
(De Gaulle Airport, Paris, France)

"De Gaulle Control, Archangel, reporting altitude 50 meters to keel at this time, descent rate 1 meter per two seconds. I think I have the target area cleared, should be able to keep taxi Victor-Six open for incoming traffic on Zero-Eight-Right."

"Archangel, De Gaulle, roger that and thank you for the consideration," the Air Traffic Controller responded. "I think we can live with one runway down for a few days, Archangel."

"Roger that, your airport your call," Newman answered curtly. "Present altitude 40 meters. Descent rate steady."

"Archangel, Buster, no contacts in line of sight. 1 passenger aircraft coming in on Zero-Nine-Right," Tolle reported from the front deck.

"That's a Deutsche Post aircraft, dork. Cargo-carrier," Miriallia corrected him. "Everybody says UPS will take over the world, I say screw UPS doing it, DP is already there."

"Sad but true, at least until the Cosmic Era put an end to the air freight business," Commander La Flaga said. "The Reclamation War was hell on civilian air traffic in general."

"De Gaulle, Archangel, 20 meters to landing, ETA 6-0 seconds," Newman brought the conversation back to focus.

"Archangel, this is Bundeskriminalamt Infantry, we have the airport secured and the local departures terminal on the east side is cleared for your bivouac. Be warned, this place is thick with press and they all have your name on their lips."

"Scary," Captain Ramius commented dryly. After the hellish campaign against the UESA / Romefeller, she wanted precisely nothing to do with the press for a day. She just wanted some sleep.

"Landing in five, four, three, two, one, now," Newman counted off until the ship's landing rails touched the tarmac. Even after the touchdown, though, the ship still made a hellish amount of frame creaking as it settled to a stop. "Captain, we're down."

Murrue picked up a growler phone and dialed in the engine room. "Engineering, Conn, finished with engines. Shut her down and begin a full maintenance routine. Three days until we move again."

"I believe it is Miller Time!" Newman said.

"I could go for a good bottle of French champagne and a decent civvie dinner right now," Chandratta countered.

"A shot of whiskey and my bed, thank you very much," Murrue opined.

"It has been a long rotation," Mu commented. "Dismiss 'em, Captain?"

"Go ahead," Murrue allowed him.

Commander La Flaga set the radio to 1MC. "Attention all hands, this is Commander La Flaga. At this time, the Archangel is at full stand-down for maintenance and crew rest. All personnel not operationally critical to maintenance tasks are released to the East Terminal for some much-needed off-ship rest and relaxation! Crew Dismissed!"

-x-

Much as had been declared, the German BKA and Russian Spetsnaz had secured the airport to prevent a mad rush on the Archangel. For the rest of the night, no Archangel crewman saw hide nor hair of anyone in the press; the one attempt to rush the terminal was rebuffed by some rather mean-looking infantry, which settled the matter.

What the BKA and Spetsnaz did not mention was that the usual civilian fare had also been cleaned out of the terminal, and a large cot city had been set up for themselves and for the Archangel Team to disembark their ship and rest somewhere that wasn't perpetually in motion or battle. Grills had been set up, beef had been acquired (nobody in the Archangel Team cared to ask how that was done, though there were suspicions...) and there was more than a few bottles of champagne or finer wines 'liberated' from Romefeller possession for use in a celebration.

Daylight presaged the beginning of more than a few hangovers, though for the Archangel Team professionalism shone through and most were up and moving at the Spetsnaz troops' general reverie. Ryback's troops were up and cooking for the combined forces from Russia, Germany, and Archangel Team without prompt; Commander La Flaga had considered he would not ask where the semi-trailer full of food had come from, but he merely hoped it had not caused too much of a scene. Combined with a German mess detachment, breakfast was served at 0800 for all.

Of course, the calm and restful situation led to the inevitable question: "Now what?" Chandratta asked the Commander.

"We repair the ship, and we move on towards home," Commander La Flaga answered immediately. "Whatever happens, we're still obligated to get everyone home, unless you want to stay somewhere."

"Hell with that," Chandratta replied immediately. "I'm in it for the ship. I don't particularly care if we get home, but I want to make sure the ship gets to wherever we finally park it."

"Damn good to hear," Mu answered the junior officer's declaration. "Pass the word around, we're on a repair cycle so all hands will be needed on deck to patch the ship up for another round. Archangel Team personnel are to stay at the ship or in this terminal until further notice."

"Can do, sir. We going to bring in some of the airport maintenance techs to assist?" Chandratta asked after a moment of considering it.

"We may, depending on workload after Murdoch determines how much it will take to fix it," the Commander said. "Speaking of certain devils..."

"Huh?" Murdoch asked. "Devils? Is Gomer around here or something?" Chandratta simply waved his finger at the unofficial 2-I-C of the Hangar, who was doing a keg-standoff against a BKA demolitions specialist. "For some people, the party doesn't end until the keg wins it by default."

In point of fact, the BKA Demo Spec lost his grip and ended up dropping face-first onto the rim of the keg, then to the ground. Gomer was not far behind, a total of seven seconds' difference. "In some battles, there are no winners and no losers, only casualties," Mu groused. "At least they have a medic nearby."

"Some victories just aren't worth the embarrassment," Kira said from behind Chandratta.

-x-x-x-

(8 December AC195, 1200 Hours)
(De Gaulle Airport, Paris, France)

Relena considered that this wasn't the first time she saw the ship beat to hell by Romefeller. Still and all, the ship was just as awesome as it had been the first time she had seen it in person.

"This is where the spare hull plate we still have comes in handy," a Mechanic noted. "Cut this diamond shape out of the hull, all the way back to the baffles between the exterior hull and the pressure hull, then coat the cut area with thermite paste and light it off. The Thermite welds it all in place for us, and since the laminates match up already it should not cause thermal expansion problems."

Relena considered that she had seen ladies in the repair crews before today, but the amount of ladies on the mechanical staff was...impressive. She had trouble considering that she could find that many willing to do this kind of work in the school at New Port City, but the Archangel was something completely different from an all-girls' prep school.

"Marco, I need a new acetylene torch set up here on the port forequarter, I just ran my welder set dry," a welder requested into a radio.

"Burris! Get on the number seven crane and hoist out that dead Anti-beam Depth Charge launcher! We ain't got all day, France called and they want their runway back!" Ensign Murdoch ordered of a guy loitering nearby a tug trailer.

"Forklift coming through!" Relena immediately recognized the person on the forklift as Magic Knight Hikaru Shidou. "Wait — Relena?" The Magic Knight stopped the forklift parallel to Pagan. "Lady Relena! What are you doing here?"

"We're here for the peace summit," Relena answered as she approached the forklift. "You move equipment as well as pilot?"

"Nobody on the team has a single job," Hikaru admitted. "When I'm not piloting or asleep, I'm down in the hangar fixing things or modifying the machines. Wait — hats — do you have hard hats?"

"No, are they required?" Relena asked.

"Yes," Hikaru noted. She pulled two hard hats off hangars on the inside of the forklift safety frame. "Here, use these," she tossed one to Relena, then one to Pagan. "Watch out for falling stuff, happens a lot when we're repairing the ship. I gotta roll, daylight is wasting!"

Relena watched the Magic Knight drive away. "That...wow, I could never imagine what it would take to build someone like that," she admitted after the forklift dropped its load at the designated spot.

"It is a different life they live," Pagan noted.

"Well, let's head for the ship's bridge," Relena decided after a moment. "This way."

"Uh, Relena, do we really want to..." Pagan tried cautioning against going through the areas of heaviest construction, but Relena was moving too fast to hear. "...Headstrong."

"Now, where do we go?" Relena asked nobody in particular.

"Where you goin'?" a Mechanic asked as he approached while carrying some square metal tube lengths.

"Here to speak to the Captain," Relena said.

"Back door, honey," the mechanic ordered, pointing to a door just under the root of the tail binders. "We got the shit shot out of our front, lots of construction work down there. You don't want to go there. Use the back door, move forward until you hit the Forward Lateral, then go to the center of the Lateral and follow the stairs up. Can't miss it!"

"Thank you!" Relena said with a wave over her shoulder.

"And watch out for the forklifts!" The mechanic continued on toward what he was doing, leaving Relena and Pagan to head through on their own.

The mechanic was definitely correct; the repair work was a lot less on the rear of the ship than the front. Much as Pagan expected, though, 'less' did not equal 'easy going' in any definition of the phrase. "Turn it, turn it! Has to come left and down!" a marshaler ordered of a crane operator, demonstrating his intentions with lighted wands.

"I'm workin' on it! Keep your panties straight!" Relena clearly heard over the marshaler's radio.

"Don't be talkin' 'bout my panties until you get the job done," the marshaler answered. "You, civvie! stay out of the light stick box! We've got heavy gear comin' down!"

"Yessir!" Relena half-yelped before she jogged out of the light-stick ring.

"Relena, keep going," Pagan indicated the door, and the lack of obstructions between the door and where they were now. The old Retainer looked over his shoulder to see a large turret assembly come down into the glow-stick area, what looked like a turret built out of Beam Cannons.

Relena was first to the hatch, though she had to stand aside while a pair of Elementals carried some large gear out of the hatch and into a staging pile next to one of the defensive gun turrets. Pagan went in first after the Elementals were out of the way, with Relena following close to avoid getting lost.

It did not take long. "Where are we?" Relena asked after she realized they had gone in a circle nearby the engine rooms.

"I don't really know," Pagan admitted. "This is a large and complex ship."

"I'm slightly embarrassed to have to ask directions, but..." Relena decided to go up a 'ladder' to the next level, and began looking around for someone to ask. She found two side-by-side doors with bead curtains across the doorways, an unusual thing on a warship, but figured a semi-open door was worth a look.

Relena went in the unmarked left side of the two doors, passed around the double-turn barrier, and immediately stopped in the door to the inner room.

It was twenty seconds before anything was said. "Oh hell yes, first lady visitor to the guys' side that ain't an officer!" Gomer half-shouted.

"Looking for somebody, Princess Relena?" Commander La Flaga asked.

"Erm, um," she flipped back a step out of sight. "Was looking for the Captain. My apologies for interrupting your bath time," she answered.

"Head forward, Murrue is in the Stateroom right now," Commander La Flaga said.

"Thank you, sorry again!" Relena was quick to get out of the entrance to the men's hot springs, and on the outside she checked the walls nearby for any kind of labeling. Much as she remembered, there was no stencil labeling, no placards, not even a color difference in the bead curtains. After a moment, she figured she would have had to be a crewmember to know which was which.

"Did you find out where we are?" Pagan asked, looking at a memorial box on the wall opposite the hot springs.

"Yes, we are at the hot springs," Relena noted in a rush.

"Oh, so they do exist," Pagan said. "But, they're not labeled. Which side is which?"

"I noticed," Relena said drolly. "Men's side is to the left. Come on, Captain is in the stateroom." Relena took off down the hall and this time turned left, headed toward the front of the ship.

"Always an adventure," Pagan said mostly to himself before he moved to follow Relena.

-x-x-x-

(12 December AC195, 1800 Hours)
(Rural Chapel, Northern Luxembourg, Europe)

"Four years in command, dozens of battles large and small, and I think this is the most chaotic op I have ever done," Murrue said quietly to Mu.

"Not going to disagree," the Commander answered, trying to keep quiet so he could hear what the Minister was saying.

"Winning a battle is easy. Winning the peace, not so much," Colonel Khushrenada sympathized. "This is the main part," Treize noted.

Murrue strained to hear it, but could not hear the minister. She was in the back of the chapel because she was stage-managing the happenings all the way to the last moment and the beginning of the organ work, leaving no seats up front open. All things considered, she really didn't want a forward seat, either; this was about Tolle, Miriallia, and their friends.

"Looks like we did this one mostly right," Mu noted. "Tolle was fairly easy to fit for a tux."

"Miriallia wasn't all that easy on the dresses, though she wasn't up to 'bridezilla' levels," Murrue said drolly.

Up toward the altar, she could hear the minister say something, then went silent to look around the room for a moment. Nothing happened for thirty seconds, so he resumed. Again Murrue could not hear what was said, though she could hear Tolle say his vows after the minister was done. The Minister continued on, followed by a brief pause and Miriallia saying her vows. A few seconds later was the obligatory kiss the bride moment, which set off a chain reaction of cheers among the crew of the ship.

The organ struck up again with the Wedding March, and the now-married couple began the semi-orderly march down the aisle toward the doors. The vehicle waiting for them was Treize's personal limo, though the rest of the personnel had charter buses waiting for them for the ride back to the base and the reception hall. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping for the newlyweds, and for more reasons than just the marriage. To many in the crew, their marriage was proof that life went on in the best fashion, even if their next days would be the tour of Hell in an insane flying warship.

(Incidentally, a mechanic had thought to get a large banner to hang from the back of the tail binders, saying 'just married', that would have been visible at roughly five kilometers. Murrue had put the kibosh on that plan, but she did note that the Mechanic in question simply stowed the banner, he did not destroy it.)

After the bride and groom were in the limo and headed away, Mu had the declaration of the day. "Thank you, Padre, for the service on such a short notice."

"Not an issue, my son," the minister replied. "Thank you for pulling us out of this perpetual war. Best you be going, though, or you will miss your own party."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Mu answered. "Crew, entrain and RTB for the reception!"

On the way out of the chapel, a goodly portion of the crew left donations of varying sizes and types, from C-rations, to gold coins from other worlds, and even an engraved bowie knife that the engine technician figured could be pawned for a good chunk of cheddar. All in all, the crew left four years' operating expenses worth of goods and coin for the church, and that without considering the service fee.

-x-

(4 hours later)

Tolle had done the obligatory dances for the reception, but like most men he showed himself to be mostly inept at it. It was at least as much consolation that Athrun, Kira, Yzak, and Nicol were not much improved in the art of dancing, though all gave it a fair shot. Hands down the best in a classic dance were Mu and Murrue, which Tolle admitted he expected.

Tolle had retired from the dance floor when the DJ broke out the club music — not his cup of tea, such as it was, and far too energetic for a guy who had had a long day already and little sleep the night before. Abandoning the field led him outside to the 'smokers and jokers' area, though in this case it was more joking than smoking, with a keg thrown in the mix for good measure.

"Hey hey, c'mon over, newlywed!" 'Spazz' (Gomer's 2-I-C, or effectively the hangar 3-I-C) waved Tolle over to the group around the keg. "Escaping that dance hall crap?"

"Yeah, and I'm whooped anyway. It's been a long-ass day, and it ain't over yet."

"Yeah, you still got a night to go with the missus, though I will admit I tried to get you a proper honeymoon," Murdoch said.

"I figured not, that might wreck our timetable for getting out of here," Tolle noted.

"Kid, we've been gone close to four years now. A week more or less isn't going to make a difference to most of us," Gomer commented. "And you've earned it, roughing all this shit and you still managed to win over the girl. Congrats, and I swear if there are any tin cans tied to the back of your Gundam, it wasn't me."

"I sense trouble there," Tolle said with narrowed eyes.

"Hey, don't look at me, man, I didn't do it, and I warned them not to do it," Gomer amplified his prior apology.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Murdock said with a beer cup extended in his direction. "If anything is on your Gundam, I'll have it removed."

Tolle accepted the beer. "Thanks, Chief," the Buster Pilot answered. "What's the odds today?"

"100 percent chance of you getting a night full of ass," Spazz said.

"You can be shot, man," Murdoch cautioned the 3-I-C of the Hangar.

"Yessir," he replied meekly.

"I meant on us getting home on the next jump," Tolle clarified his initial request after a sip of beer.

"Near zero," Murdoch answered. "Worth a shot anyways, even if we do end up in a really skull-fucked territory."

"And we haven't been to a few of those already?" Gomer asked his immediate superior.

"Oh, I think everyone here can imagine worse," Murdoch commented with a grin for effect. "We are the Hangar Madmen, after all. I expect you to have very powerful imaginations."

"Whips and chains, sir," Gomer said with a half-arsed salute.

"Now, you, Tolle, I suggest you grab your wife and head up to the hotel on the far side of the airport. Already arranged a room for you, and cautioned the staff to move as many away from you as possible," Murdoch said. "I'll have a car pick you two up at 1400 tomorrow, which will give you some time to sleep in and get a decent meal. Enjoy yourselves, and don't worry about the ship. It'll still be here tomorrow."

"Speaking thereof," Tolle said, looking past Murdoch. "Where's some wheels? Now would be a great time to bail."

"Sure, but if you've been drinking, I'm driving," Miriallia warned him.

-x-x-x-

(15 December AC195, 0800 Hours)
(Office of the Chancellor, Luxembourg)

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Captain Ramius," Colonel Treize Khushrenada welcomed them. "Please have a seat, Captain, Commander."

"Not a problem, Colonel," Murrue answered. "Now, what is important enough to have you request an emergency meet with us?"

"I have, well, for lack of a better way to explain it, an unexpected family problem that is both personal and likely to become a professional problem in short order."

Murrue frowned. "If I may ask, why would the Archangel Team be needed for a family problem? We're a mercenary Gundam formation, sir." The implicit tail to her declaration was simple: and you don't call on mercenaries for a domestic dispute.

"That is exactly why I have chosen the Archangel Team over other conventional means. Before I go into details of my proposed contract, best you hear the story from the primary party at risk in this endeavor."

Treize pressed a console button on his desk, which activated the primary viewing screen in the office. The first image was significant, of a little girl in what appeared to be a military commo facility. "This is Mariemaia Khushrenada, daughter of Treize Khushrenada and Leia Barton, transmitting on a clandestine frequency used by White Fang. Please relay a message to my father, Treize Khushrenada: the original Operation METEOR is still in play, location Colony X-18999. I can break the entire operation and end the Barton Family gambit to commit mass murder and world takeover, but I need an extraction as soon as possible. Father, I know you know what forces to call on to complete this request. Mariemaia, end transmit."

Murrue was silent after the message ended. It was Mu who had the first comment. "Kid's got some definite guts to make a move like that."

"You believe this is authentic?" Murrue asked the Colonel.

"I have several reasons to believe it is real," Treize replied evenly. "First, at one time I was romantically involved with Leia Barton; not many people would know that. Second, I know the Barton Family, and Operation METEOR was initially their brainchild until the Gundams rebelled and started attacking Oz independently. The original plan involved dropping a colony on the planet, so the mass-destruction element is real. Third, X-18999 is a Barton Foundation holding. This entire scenario sounds all too real."

"Okay, the other consideration would be, is this a false flag?" Mu La Flaga asked reasonably.

"False Flag ops are a possibility, but this one is far too dangerous for the Bartons. If they wanted to move forward with a modified Op METEOR, stealth would have been far better. If this video became public knowledge, questions would be asked and I would have to give answers, hard answers that people would not like. Unless Op METEOR was ready to go right now, the Bartons would be caught off balance and you could measure Dekim Barton's remaining life-span in hours. On that basis alone, I don't see this as a false flag."

"Okay, that is perfectly reasonable," Murrue judged. "Now, you presented the problem. What do you want us to do about it?"

"These are the relevant documents," Treize passed her a leather portfolio. "Your contract overview is to gain access to X-18999, force entry by any means necessary, prevent the colony from being dropped on planet, cause as much damage as possible to Barton Foundation infrastructure, and exfiltrate my daughter from the colony. Partial completion of objectives is acceptable, though will be compensated at reduced value. Bonus credit will be awarded if you eliminate the Op METEOR forces in their entirety, eliminate Dekim Barton, and/or complete this task without making the news wires."

Murrue looked over the itemization of tasks and expected compensation for mission completion. After rereading the list twice, she handed the portfolio to Commander La Flaga. He read it once, twice, then whistled. "That much?"

"It is a personal problem, for now, and I do know you want to continue your journey onward toward home," Treize admitted. "I figured a serious offer would be best for the best mercenary formation in the Earth Sphere, especially since this request is competing with your hard-earned vacation time."

"This is a very solid offer," Murrue thought aloud.

"I agree, and the offered resources would certainly assist us in our coming travels," Mu agreed.

"Okay, let's talk specifics on the offer," Murrue decided. "I will have to put it to vote in the Team, but I think after seeing the video everyone will be in."

"What are your thoughts, Captain?" Treize asked.

"Package Charlie, prevention of the colony drop, I was thinking that the amount of material you are offering exceeds the mass of the armor on the Archangel as it is — by nearly a factor of three. If we laid over for a month, do you think your shipwrights could re-plate the hull? I have my doubts on how long we can keep patching our armor up before something goes wrong."

Treize considered the Captain's request significant. "I think my men can do that, but it will definitely require some assistance from your personnel. You do have full schematics and armor diagrams?"

"Yes," Mu answered, liking the Captain's suggestion.

"My other concern is package Delta, though it is a minor point. That offer is definitely significant, but I was wondering if I could get 50 percent of that in bar configuration, 25 percent in coin configuration, and 25 percent in rod configuration."

It was Treize's turn to frown; he was familiar with the bar and coin configurations, but rods were a new thing to him. "Why the rods, if I may ask?"

"If necessary, I can cut them into blanks and have them machined or pressed for several different purposes," Murrue considered. "At a guess, I have reason to believe that the Koenig wedding is not likely to be the last in our ship's history, and cylindrical blanks might be of use for that purpose."

"Ah," Treize noted.

"And, one last consideration. You are offering full salvage rights from all forces eliminated in this operation. May I offer you a portion of that salvage as sell-back material to Luxembourg?" Murrue asked.

"Certainly. We can negotiate fees and bounties when you have a tally of recovered materials," Treize expected that request, and as it happened welcomed it. He had lost a lot of Mobile Suits in the battles in Luxembourg, so salvage buybacks would give him an opportunity to rebuild his forces.

"I believe, then, tentative to the agreement of my crew, we have a deal. I will have it voted on and signed within ten hours, should we accept the contract." Captain Ramius and Commander La Flaga stood after the Colonel did so.

"A pleasure to do business with professionals," Colonel Khushrenada noted as he shook the Captain's hand.

-x-x-x-

(18 December AC195, 1030 Hours)
(Outside Colony X-18999)

"Conn, Sensors, they've made us," Sai declared. "Definite radar passes, I show Taurus machines moving in our direction. Count six marks at this time."

"I figured the door guard would get to us before we could ring the bell." Murrue picked up her growler phone and set it to 1MC. "Attention all hands, upgrading to condition one now. We are engaging enemy Mobile Suits."

The battle klaxon was next to go off, making it official. The ship was back in battle, but this time for a light contract and for personal (direct) profit. Nobody had signed themselves out of the contract, given the significant rewards and expectation of light or moderate threat.

"Rayearth, Command, engage at discretion," Miriallia ordered of the one Rune God on deploy outside the ship. Windam would be on reserve for the internal operations, and Selesce was still down from the count, leaving Hikaru alone among the three Rune Gods for this phase of the operation. "Tolle, Athrun, Pytor, back her up."

"Aff, Ensign Haww," Pytor answered stiffly. "Standing by for catapult shot."

"Athrun on left cat, standing by," After said pilot requested his launch, Miriallia tripped both catapults to deploy the Mercurius / Vayeate team.

"Is that...supposed to be a competent pilot?" Pytor asked nobody in particular after one of the enemy machines fired four beam rifle rounds at the Buster, achieving no result and only coming reasonably close with one shot.

"I've got 'em," Tolle answered. Rather than link his weapons, Tolle fired two rounds from just the beam cannon at the enemy Taurus threatening him, and one round of Gun Launcher at the next nearest enemy, both of which resulted in hard kills. "Two down!"

Hikaru charged forward through the short debris cloud created by Tolle's second kill, using it to obscure her move into the fray. The enemy force had hesitated as soon as shots flew, opting to try to maneuver wide instead of close with the renown Archangel Team. By trying to maneuver, Hikaru was able to get in close and take her first swing at the opposition. She missed a clean shot at the nearest of the foes, but her sword removed the right lower arm, right hand, and beam rifle of the machine.

"Wait, what?" Athrun watched a completely separate Taurus fire several beams at the Archangel, not at any of the Mobile Suits nearby it. "Their tactics are deplorable! Are we fighting trainees here?"

"They may not be capable of striking a small fast-moving target, and are defaulting to the large slow target," Pytor judged after the nearest Taurus took several shots at Hikaru, with only one striking Rayearth's shield.

"Oi! No shooting at my friends!" Tolle returned the favor on the shooter nearby Hikaru, though his Gun Launcher only stripped off a leg for his efforts.

"I will finish this one," Pytor took a follow-up shot on the machine Tolle had wounded. The enemy must not have been paying complete attention to his surroundings, for he failed to dodge in any fashion and took the beam square in the chest.

"Archangel is in range, stand by for support," Miriallia commented. Three Particle Cannon shots streaked by one of the remaining survivors, though a pair of gauss rifle slugs savaged one of the prior-killed machines to no effect. "Or maybe not."

"We have their measure," Pytor answered heartily. His shot on one of the two remaining machines was on the mark, but missed after the pilot cleared the line of fire. "It would appear killing half their rank has taught the others some measure of maneuver skill."

"Too little too late," Athrun commented sharply. The same machine tried to dodge beam cannon fire from the Archangel's Virgo Turrets, but too many turrets gave him too many choices of which one to dodge — and he made the wrong call.

Again, one of the remaining took his shots at the Archangel, though Athrun imposed his Planet Defensers between the fire and the ship. "They seem to like us," Sai commented dryly.

The other Taurus decided to follow up with a shot from a Space Laser. "They like us quite a lot," Chandratta commented dryly. "Captain, Lohengrin two is down."

Hikaru tried moving on the enemy with the Space Laser, but the Taurus was briefly able to outmaneuver the Rune God and cleared a pair of swings. "The more of them we kill, the harder the remainder is to kill!"

"They still can not aim, for what it is worth," Pytor groused. "I was hoping for at least a small challenge."

The same machine that managed to miss Pytor in three shots did not miss on intercepting the first of four missiles from the Archangel, but the three trailing missiles he neither intercepted nor dodged. After the third missile struck and detonated, the largest piece of his machine still identifiable was the left lower leg and foot.

"Got the last," Athrun commented dryly before he sabered it twice with the Crash Shield on the Mercurius. Two solid hits to the body, no more threat.

"Archangel, Vayeate, no further contacts in vicinity of X-18999. Moving to dock harbor for break-in phase now."

-x-

"Gott Mit Uns! Do it for the kid!" The sauce chef half-shouted.

"Swedish war cries, now? I may have to have your mental health checked," Chief Ryback groused. "Two forward, take guard while the rest of us yank our encounter suits."

"I'm on it," the baker noted. He moved forward with the M-60, more than enough firepower to 'dissuade' anyone from interfering with the disrobing of the bulky and cumbersome encounter suits. The only time the Commandos wanted to wear those suits was when they absolutely had to, otherwise they prefered their body armor and mismatched collection of ass-kicking weapons.

"Nothing going on here, sir, it's like the colony has not been informed we just scrapped their exterior guard," the other forward guard (the grill master) said after he took position opposite the exterior doorway from the baker.

"They going to get a real rude awakening when the Gundams get inside, then," the sauce chef said with a savage tone of voice.

"Speaking thereof," Ryback commented as he heard the opening strains of the interior airlock doors for the Mobile Suits. It would be minutes before the Gundams could actually enter the colony proper, mostly due to the inherent slow open speed of the pressure doors, but once loosed inside the colony, the game was over for the Barton Foundation.

"All right, I'll cover the door," the vegetable chef tapped the Baker out. His Thompson would not be able to reach as far as the -60, but in close it was a lethal monster against anything that went under its peep sight.

"I have the second guard," the unit sniper / dessert chef took over for the grill master, his Enfield Mark 4 / Sniper Pattern rifle aimed outward for any sign of threat.

"Gundam team, Commando Team, we are almost ready to collect our transport," Ryback reported.

"Commando, Duel, two rides waiting for you," Yzak reported.

"Clear," the baker answered after a brief minute.

"Finished up," the grill master answered thirty seconds later.

"Oven Guru takes point," Ryback ordered. "Make for the airlocks and cover your left flank smartly, we'll be exposed for about 100 meters."

"Aye aye, Chief," the Baker moved up to the door, gave one good quick look outside for threats, then led the procession off. The rest of the team filed out and spread out at three-second intervals, making it impossible for a single burst of gunfire to wipe out the whole team.

X-18999 was well-provisioned for bringing in or removing large objects — the planet-side dock was equipped with a 200-meter wide by 50-meter tall pressure lock for large objects. Of course, the downside of such a major airlock was the large doors that took minutes to open, and the personnel doors were a significant hike for the people to get from the personnel locks to the cargo lock. In an otherwise hostile colony, running across 100 meters of open ground, silhouetted against massive steel doors, was roughly the same as running through Cracktown butt-naked with $100 bills taped to your back. Someone was guaranteed to see, and likely to take a shot at the poor sods involved.

This adventure was no different from expectation. Roughly two-thirds the way to the slow-opening cargo doors, a patrol jeep of the local thugs saw the Commando team moving across the open ground and immediately reacted. Two of the occupants went for their guns, the third went for a radio, and the race was on for who could get on target first. The winner, oddly enough, was the driver of the patrol vehicle; granted, only one of his rounds came close to being on target, since he was not holding his sub-machine gun correctly, after the fourth round on full auto he was firing an anti-aircraft weapon at an otherwise clear sky. The sniper had crosshairs on the shooter, but hesitated on seeing the ineptitude of the foe, under the assumption that nobody in uniform would really be that stupid. The Grill Master did not balk at the clear threat, using his Kalashnikov in a pair of short bursts to core out the shooter's chest.

The demise of the driver cleared the way for the sniper to take a clear shot at the radio operator, who was still fumbling with the radio controls. The distance of the shot was pathetically easy, fifty meters or less, and one round from the Lee-Enfield Number Four (Sniper Pattern) removed the C4 vertebrae from his neck by way of blowing through his throat and out the rear of his body. "He's down," the sniper / desert chef reported.

A sub-machine gun peeked over the hood of the patrol jeep and ripped off one long burst, most of the rounds falling well short of the team, though the Thompson, the M-60 and two AKs returned the favor with far better accuracy. When the last of the patrol peeked over the hood to see how well his burst did, the sniper was waiting for him — another round, this time a head shot exactly between the eyes and roughly an inch above the bridge of his nose. "Good night, Gracie," he commented dryly.

"Sniper, move to that jeep and prepare to spike with thermite. Rest of team, move it up!" Ryback ordered, then set off for the cargo doors at a jog. "Gundams, Ryback, we just had a shootout, though I don't think they got a radio call off."

"They did not, I am monitoring their radio traffic and all is clear," Kira responded. "Someone else may have called in by phone, though."

"We're coming in for the HMMVWs, we need to move before someone finds us!" The Baker was leading the charge for the doors, even humping the 'pig' (1) along for the run.

"Guys, I don't think anyone told them about the fracas outside, but I don't think anyone needed to tell them twice about the little gunfight we just had," the dessert chef reported after the team got inside the airlock doors.

"Hold fast, we'll be along to pick you up in thirty," Ryback ordered just before he arrived at the first of the HMMVW vehicles that had been hand-carried in by the Duel. Interestingly, while an ICE engine would not run in space for obvious reasons (no air to feed it), it had no problem moving through space so long as it had exposure to air before it was run again. In this case, such a principle allowed the Commandos to bring along some 'wheels' and extra equipment (read: explosives) for the inside work of the X-18999 raid.

"Okay, I have what looks like a platoon in deuce-and-a-half trucks coming down side-roads, may mean to try to hit us on the left," the Sniper reported. "And...looks like an IFV coming down the center. Erm, someone have the firepower to splatter that thing before it gets me with that 30mm cannon?"

"Stand by," Commander (formerly Colonel) Chevalier answered heartily. The IFV stopped, trained its gun past the jeep and toward the airlocks, though before the missile launcher could deploy fully it was struck nose-on by a blast from the hyper impulse cannon courtesy of Morgan's 105 Dagger with the last remaining Launcher Strike Pack.

"Good show, Commander!" the Sniper noted. "Except, now we have a troop of infantry still to handle..."

"I can help a bit with that," Yzak answered calmly. The doors were still not open enough to allow the machines through, but they were open enough to allow fire to come out of the airlock. Yzak took advantage of this with the 60mm Vulcans on his machine, a short burst of sixty rounds ample to completely shred a squad worth of the platoon bearing down on the sniper.

"Duel stand fast, we're going to move through your legs," Ryback requested as he waved the other vehicle forward.

"Go for it," Yzak authorized the wildly-against-safety-protocol maneuver before he dispensed another short burst of vulcan fire into the enemy Infantry.

"Okay, taking a little fire here," the Sniper complained between shots of his own. "Bloody — they're smarter than the patrol! Looks like most of 'em know how to take cover!"

"The two most plentiful elements in the world are hydrogen and stupidity, unfortunately Darwin tends to clear out the stupidity from time to time," Yzak complained between bursts of Vulcans. "Agh — damnit! Out of ammo! Strike, can you support?"

"On it," Kira answered immediately. The Duel sidestepped twice, allowing the Strike Freedom forward to where it could put the two SA-GAU7D 76mm CIWS Guns (2) into action.

"Strike Freedom, put your fire in that bistro on the corner northwest of the loading area! I count eight in that building's first floor," the Grill Master requested.

"Roger that, stand by," Kira noted. He set his aimpoint on the western wall of the shop, squeezed the trigger, and moved the aimpoint steadily eastward until he ran out of shop. By the time the last few rounds struck the building, the supports of the first floor had taken too much damage and the second floor of the building collapsed down into the ground level. "Threat building is cleared," Kira noted with a bit of shock to voice, not expecting to completely level the structure.

"Reaper team, Punisher, put down fire on the left flank, they're trying to move in the open," Ryback ordered of the second vehicle.

"I see them," the vegetable chef answered curtly. His vehicle had the real firepower of the team, a Federated RG20 automatic grenade launcher bought on Twycross. Physically not much different from the old Mark 19 Automatic Grenade Launcher (3), it would loose four grenades a second if the shooter held down the trigger, and the Commandos loved it because it gave them more than enough firepower to rip up a platoon of Infantry in seconds, much less a couple oddballs trying to flank across open ground. Two grenades, a quarter-second flight time, two dead infantry. "Problem solved," the veggie chef reported the result of his orders.

"What the hell? Are they retreating? Seriously?" the sauce chef commented in surprise.

"Guess they didn't want to play with the big boys today," the baker noted. "Or something else is coming our way,"

-x-

Mariemaia could see the airlock from her bedroom window, and the sound of the automatic grenade launcher was distinctive in that it was not a common weapon used by the infantry in the 'Mariemaia Army' under her 'command'. In all reality, she didn't have an army, she had about ten Mobile Suits (6 Taurus and 4 Serpent) and three platoons of infantry. Right now, she suspected she had four Mobile Suits and two platoons of Infantry — the Duel, the Strike Freedom, and the 105 Dagger had all worked hard to make sure the infantry did not overwhelm what was probably the Archangel Team Commandos in action.

"Milady, should you be watching that with such reverence?" Mariemaia's maid asked with clear worry in voice.

"It won't matter," Mariemaia answered after a moment. "They're coming for me."

"What? Then we should — shouldn't we?" the maid asked after Mariemaia threw her a glance.

"Run away? How? If they are here, the Archangel is outside the colony — and there is no escaping that. Where to, then? Assuming we escaped, the Archangel would be able to track us with the aid of White Fang, the Maganac, or the Sanc Kingdom, as all three have excellent intelligence services." Mariemaia looked back out the window, to where one of the Serpent MS was trying to engage the Strike Freedom, which Mariemaia knew was a losing battle. The Serpent in question was a completely ballistic or missile arsenal, and the SF Mass-Pro unit was equipped with Quad-Phase Shift Armor, easily capable of preventing any penetration kinetic or missile. "We have lost. This was the one point in time we could have been easily stopped, and somehow something was found or compromised."

"So now what?" the maid asked after a minute of watching the Archangel Team blaze a path through the colony interior.

"We wait for it, whatever they intend to do," Mariemaia answered coldly. "There is nothing we can do for Grandfather, either, since he is out on the Moon right now."

"I am sorry, Lady Mariemaia," the maid apologized for the 'bad' turn of events.

"Operations like this, they always have a price for failure, just as they have a price for victory." Mariemaia brought one of her chairs over to the window to watch the evolving action. In the distance, the Duel Gundam fired several missiles into one of the Serpent MS factory blocks, demolishing most of the structure and the unfinished machine within. What remained of the building was finished off by the 105 Dagger, a single shot of a large beam cannon weapon demolished what was left of the structure in a particle wash that also started a fire in the rubble.

"And this is our price to pay," Mariemaia's mother commented with resignation. "I had fears this would come to a bad end, I should not have agreed to my father's ambition on this one."

"We all did what we thought would work," Mariemaia countered. "If not for the Archangel Team, the Earth Forces would have bled themselves dry on White Fang, and we'd have a good chance at taking over the Earth Sphere." She sighed after a moment. "Well, all we can do now is see who exactly they are here for."

-x-

"Well, this has been fun rampaging through the colony, but I think we need to wrap up our business and roll out of here," Commander Chevalier recommended.

"Agreed, we're out of Barton Foundation facilities to destroy," Kira considered. "Commandos, head to primary objective. How's your ammo?"

"We've only got two cases of 50-caliber and half a case of 40-millie, Strike Freedom. Hope they don't have a platoon here," Ryback said.

"I'm dry on somewhat-AP-usable ammo," Yzak noted. "Couple rounds of Shiva left, and my beam rifle with the grenade round."

"That's enough to level a structure, I guess," Kira noted. "Morgan?"

"A little 50-caliber in my right foot, and the Agni, and that's it."

"And I have six rounds of Xiphas, no CIWS, and my beam weapons. Yeah, sounds like another Archangel Team run. Outnumbered, out of supplies, and winning!"

"Coming up on the last target location, the Barton Family mansion," Reaper Vehicle noted.

"Okay, I'm seeing four at the front door, two on the roof with heavy anti-tank missiles," Morgan noted. "I could pick off the roof sentries with Agni, but I think someone with a beam rifle should."

"I hear you," Yzak answered the call. The Duel stopped three blocks short of the target, hunched down slightly so the shot would not angle down into the mansion, and sighted up the sentries. One of the missiles was launched at him before the Duel fired its first shot, but Yzak won the pissing contest by default. The second trooper dropped his missile launcher and ran for the stairs down into the building before Yzak could turn the beam rifle on him. "Huh. Turn one of their boot pairs into ashtrays, the other runs for the hills. Go figure."

"Eh, we're not here to kill them all. Destroying infrastructure is the main goal," Morgan judged.

"Well, we've done plenty of that, so we finish up and head out." Kira jumped over a low-rise building nearby the mansion to land in the front courtyard. He aimed both beam rifles at the four door guards, then flipped on his external speaker. "Don't bother, boys. Just drop 'em and put your hands up." After roughly two seconds of thinking about it, the four door guards did exactly as ordered. "Punisher, Reaper, come on down!"

"On it," Chief Ryback replied with a savage tone to voice. The two HMMVWs rolled into the courtyard fast, the roof gunners traversing their weapons back and forth across the windows of the mansion in case someone made the mistake of shooting at the Commandos. After a few seconds of sweeping, nobody made a move from one of the opened windows, though a few of the domestic staff were hanging out the window, gawking at the Commandos as they piled out of the vehicles to 'assault' the structure.

"Demo on the front door! Two line charges!" The Baker requested of anyone nearby the vehicles still. The griller, the dessert chef, Ryback and the vegetable master had moved forward to secure the four door guards with zip-tie handcuffs, given they did not want to depart with their regular (steel) handcuffs for such a pithy operation as this.

"I've got the door," Kira said. He stepped the Strike Freedom forward a pace, waved the prisoners and commandos to the side, then simply kicked through the front door and column palisade in front of it. "Door's open."

"Thanks, big guy," the baker said before he led the charge into the building.

"Holy shit, this is some serious architecture!" the Grill Master commented. "It is some manner of mandatory for evil bastards to have opulent housing or bases?"

"Power corrupts, absolute power is expensive," Ryback commented.

"Whoa, got something here," Yzak said. "Confirmed target, Mariemaia, second floor, east wing, front face corner room," he said after magnifying on the girl in the window. "Looks like there are two ladies in the room as well, a maid and someone in plain clothes."

"Second floor, east wing front corner, roger that," the sniper / dessert chef answered. "No resistance inside the building. Looks like everyone else has run for the hills."

"We're at the room in question," Ryback said. "Breaching charges this door!"

"Wait, sir," the Gundam pilots could hear the sound of a door opening. A short pause of a second, before the room flashed bright white from a flashbang detonating inside the room. The next sound was that of the team filing into the room in standard entry form, to which they took control of every person in the room, though what happened after that was unheard (the sniper turned his radio off).

Ten seconds later: "Command, Ryback, we have a situation here."

"Oh shit," Kira groused. The last thing he wanted to do was to do first aid on someone before evacuating them from the colony.

"No, no, nobody's injured," Ryback countered before anyone began panicking. "We have the primary, but we also have the primary's mother here, and she wants out as well."

"Wait, Leia Barton, here?" Kira asked. "Hell yes, we'll extract them both, then. Takes her out of the equation as well, in case Dekim comes looking for a hostage."

"Can you fit both of them in the cockpit?" The vegetable chef replied.

"Oh yeah, I have enough room in my second seat," Kira noted. "Extract and exfiltrate, we're done here."

"Update, the maid wants out as well, sir," the baker said with a straight tone of voice. Kira could tell he was trying to avoid laughing about the wildly changing extraction profile.

"Okay, we're pushing it, here. This cockpit is spacious, but not that big. Three is the max," Kira decried the travel arrangement, knowing it would be cramped to the max with four people inside.

"Sir, we may want to commandeer a transport vehicle and a shuttle, I have several other members of the domestic staff requesting an out."

"Jeez, this Dekim Barton must have been a real asshole to work for, if his house staff is trying to bail on him," Yzak noted with a hint of exasperation.

Kire made a snap-judgment on the change in circumstances. "Roger that, I'll take Mariemaia, Leia, and the maid on the Strike Freedom, Ryback, your guys will need to organize a shuttle evac. We'll cover for you. Yzak, once the building is cleared, level it."

"I hear you," the Duel pilot said. "The strange shit we do in the average work-day," he half-whined.

"Beats the hell out of the alternative," Morgan said. "I've seen the alternative. It ain't pretty."

-x-

(3 hours later)
(Archangel Hangar deck)

"This is interesting," Commander La Flaga said as he approached the shuttle. He had been informed of the change in plans by Kira, who had a back seat literally full of ladies when he contacted the ship, which had drawn a few comments from the bridge staff but not much else. The shuttle in tow, at least, had allowed the team to recover the HMMVWs without having to dry-carry them through space, simply load them in the shuttle's cargo bay and tie them down as other cargo would be.

On the way out, all three Gundams had taken care to collect one of the Serpent machines; two were downed in combat, two were captured without pilots. The lesser of the damaged machines was recovered by Kira, the two undamaged ones were hauled out by tow cables by the Duel and 105 Dagger. New models would certainly net some serious cash from Luxembourg, given the offered salvage rights from Treize.

"We are certainly counting coup on this one," Pytor commented. "The only objective we did not achieve was elimination of Dekim Barton, which is a null issue; he is on the moon, if I remember what Mariemaia reported of his whereabouts."

"This will be a complete disaster for the old fart," Mu said with a chuckle. "With this much damage to his operation, Treize should have no issue dealing with him in the future, if he wants to."

"I doubt Treize will pass up this opportunity to deal with the threat," Pytor judged. "My years with the Archangel Team have demonstrated the folly of the Jade Falcon's push to invade the Inner Sphere, but I never believed such monsters as Kefka, Gestahl, Azrael, or now Dekim Barton could exist. Only now do I see the validity of the Warden's stance, if for no other reason than to deal with the stark raving megalomaniacs that exist throughout the many histories."

Commander La Flaga simply grunted in confirmation of the point. "I have a feeling we will have more psychos and evil bastards to deal with the farther into this journey we go. Be ready for it."

-x-x-x-

(25 December AC195, 0730 Hours)
(White Sand beach, Grand Bahamas Island, Caribbean Sea)

"Now this is a vacation," Yzak said to nobody in particular. So far, he was out on the beach alone, or at least alone in terms of Archangel crew. There were some kids from South America a dozen meters up the beach, on a summer school trip to the Bahamas, though these kids were not doing any actual school work (unless one counted french kissing studies as a school activity), so Yzak was not technically alone.

The ship was in dry-dock in Davenport, England, which would be the only Naval Base in Europe with facilities large enough to service the Archangel. The nearest base other than Davenport capable of doing the hull refit twould have been on the east coast of the United States — not a good plan for an already logistically-troubled refit.

Given the already-apparent delays to the refit, Captain Ramius had ordered half the crew to vacation, and commissioned a charter flight from England to New York to Grand Bahama so the crew could do some serious sun and fun in a tropical climate well away from the crappy weather of England at this time of year. Her initial intention, the southern shore of Spain, also seemed a crappy choice with some bad weather reported in the area and below-average temperatures for this time of year, so the Caribbean Sea became the default choice for the vacation. The crew would rotate out every two weeks with the crew at the Archangel refit site, so everyone would have at least some vacation before the ship was ready to go.

Yzak had volunteered for the first duty detail, but with Kira and Hikaru on the first refit team, he had been shunted out to the vacation detail. Not that it mattered to the Duel pilot one way or the other, since he had secretly been looking forward to some beach time. Of course, The Captain had made sure that Miriallia and Tolle were on the first vacation detail, if for no other reason than to give them something approaching a honeymoon. And, of the pilot / command staff, Commander La Flaga and Umi had also been shunted out to the vacation detail, the commander because someone of rank was needed, and Umi because Selesce was still on the mend.

"Still feeling bad about being on this beach, now?" Umi asked after she sat down in her lounge chair on the other side of the umbrella Yzak had set up on the beach.

"Not at all," Yzak commented. "Couple weeks to unwind would be real nice, and I'm pretty sure the ship isn't going to go anywhere without us."

"Good time to catch up on reading," Umi countered. Yzak opened an eye enough to see that Umi was dressed for the environment (a two-piece bathing suit in emerald blue), but more engrossed in a light novel than interested in swimming this early in the day.

Both Pilot and Magic Knight remained silent, though Yzak could tell that she was off-and-on paying attention to the students down the beach. After her fourth overt check, Yzak considered something that had been nagging at his mind. "I wonder, with those two are down there making out, is their teacher looking for them?"

"They are part of the student group from Brazil?" Umi asked.

"Yeah," Yzak said.

"They were up late partying in our hotel," Umi grumped. "Kept Fuu and myself awake until just about midnight."

"I'd've flipped 'em a flashbang, put some fear of God into them," Yzak opined.

Umi suppressed a snigger. "Very tempting thought. Of course, I don't think the room cleaners would have liked that."

"True," Yzak admitted after he realized that the Flashbang would have done some serious damage to whatever carpet it detonated on.

"Hey, Yzak, Umi," Chandratta prompted them as he approached. "Some of the mechanics are putting together a group to go rock-climbing, you want in?"

"Rock climbing? No way, man," Yzak replied heartily. "I came here to soak up some sun, not do Alps Jaeger stuff."

"I'm out," Umi said simply.

"Okay, I'll tell the boys they're on their own," the gun-bunny said before he turned away.

The two mobile forces officers were silent again, this time for ten minutes. "Love the silence," Umi commented out of the blue.

"Definitely," Yzak agreed.

"You know, there is one thing you haven't asked yet. Nobody has, really, since I regained consciousness after we won in Germany."

Yzak shrugged, a gesture that Umi barely saw from her side of the shade. "I figured you'd tell when you were ready. I'm not the prying type, nor are the others from the ZAFT side."

"Well, I think I'm ready, then." Umi hesitated for a moment. "Selesce is going to need several months to repair the damage he took in that battle. He may be a Rune God, but for a biologic being, regenerating that kind of damage is not a fast process."

"And you?" Yzak asked.

"What about me?" Umi asked in counter.

"I wasn't very worried about Selesce. I was quite a bit worried about you, and to a bit still am," Yzak clarified his question.

"Oh, really," Umi said, though Yzak could tell it was more of a shocked default answer than something accusatory. "Well, I'm all right. I can't do much because my Rune God is out, but I don't think I took any injuries from the hit."

"I was afraid being dropped like that may have hurt you up here," and Yzak tapped on his forehead to demonstrate. "You're sure you're all right?"

"I was more worried that I'd wake up with someone else in the hospital, or worse, wake up to another memorial box outside the hot springs," Umi admitted. "I don't think I ever felt like I was fighting a hopeless battle, even on Romulus or against the Wolves, until we went into that nightmare in Germany. Is it always like that?"

"The first hopeless battle I saw was Junius Seven," Yzak noted. "I remember watching the colony shred apart from the conflicting forces after the nuclear blast went off inside the center hub of the colony. It was horrible, knowing you were losing and you could do nothing to stop it."

"Then, how do you get around that feeling?" Umi asked.

Yzak was silent for a moment, working his way through a sensible answer. What came to mind was not one answer, but three. "Three things. One, trust in your team, protect them and they'll protect you. Two, make sure you're the best at what you do, or close to it, and make sure you fight to win. There is no such thing as playing fair."

"And three?" Umi asked.

"Three, well, live your life and make sure you do it how you want to do it. You don't put your life on hold just because you're in a bad situation. Nobody else is," Yzak commented. "No telling how long we'll be at this journey, so you can avoid one form of feeling hopeless by going on with your life."

"And you?" Umi asked after a minute of silence.

"This kinda is my life, well, beyond my whole ancient mysticism hobby." Yzak raised up a small book he had on his chest to demonstrate what he had for reading material.

"Nice," Umi commented. She had unconsciously put her life on hold, assuming that she could slip back into her normal routine when she ever got home, but now that Yzak made mention of it, the truth was obvious. By putting her life on hold, she wasn't going anywhere and definitely wouldn't be able to reintegrate into her privileged life so easily as she thought she could.

After about an hour of considering it, Umi figured she had options on the ship and in her new, unexpectedly-rebuilt life.

-x-x-x-

(2 January AC196, 0900 Hours)
(Davenport Convention Center, Davenport, England)

Given the losses of personnel that inevitably happened whenever the ship was directly attacked (and it had suffered some severe damage at the hands of the Romefeller Foundation), the Archangel Team had to recoup those personnel losses somehow. Another problem that Mu had considered but not expected (until just now), was the likelihood that someone, somewhere, would want to jump ship and just remain on the planet they were at, for a whole host of possible reasons. And, just for the sheer audacity of it, Mu had considered the possibility that there might be some extended capabilities on planet worth tapping for the trip home.

Finding a convention center in England was simple, a large one existed not far from the naval docks where the Archangel was being refitted. Putting out an advertising blitz across the colonies and Earth was also dead simple, given the not insignificant fortune the Archangel Team had raked up in salvage bounties during their campaigning.

Culling the herd of incoming potential recruits, though, not so simple. Part of that was the location of the convention center; England, being an island, took a lot of effort to get to, so this was a step reserved for the hardest of individuals willing to pay their way to take a chance on the interview process. The first-flight interviewing was handled by the mechanics and engine techs in rotating 30-person blocks, where the ground rules and expectations were laid out. Giving the people a very clear idea of what they were about to walk into, with the expectation that they would likely never come home again, was enough to disabuse over 80 percent of the brave applicants of their folly.

The second-flight interviews were also held in groups, given the remaining 20 percent still amounted to over a thousand applicants for some 100 positions. Those persons that were interested in an individual position were grouped together and given the full run-down of that position by a veteran in that art. This helped weed out the posers who were trying to get in on the old saw 'fake it until you make it', which amounted to another 50 percent reduction in the applicant pool.

Third-flight interviews were a combination interview and trial-by-fire, hosted by the crew. Some of the applicants demonstrated meritorious skill, which put them toward the front of the line for their position. Others did acceptable, but showed the stomach for the wildly-varying tasks of the Archangel, which got them a direct interview with the section leads. The few posers who slipped through the cracks of the round-two culling washed out at this point, unable to fake it under the scrutiny of battle-hardened professionals.

And then, there was the oddballs, those who demonstrated capabilities that nobody thought would be necessary, but which sounded real good when presented to the staff. Those went straight to Commander La Flaga for check.

-x-

"Dorothy Catalonia? This is definitely a surprise," Commander La Flaga commented. "Welcome, nonetheless. Please, have a seat. Anything for refreshment?"

"No, thank you, sir," Dorothy answered calmly.

"So, I take it you are looking for a placement on the ship?" Mu asked.

"I am. Though my technical skills don't match maintenance or engineering functions, I believe I may have multiple skills that can assist the ship," Dorothy fronted as an opening position.

"I am listening," Mu acknowledged her the field.

"First, I am trained in systems operations at a high level, primarily in the use of sensor and communication systems. I spent a lot of time in my youth on Barge, and a lot of that time in the radio or CIC rooms to keep me out of trouble. After a while, the officers began training me on how to use the systems. I spent summers over the past two years on Barge as something of an ROTC cadet for Sensor operations and Communications; here are my records from those endeavors." Mu received the file folder and quickly glanced over it, which confirmed her story. He would verify with Romefeller personnel that it was real, but he doubted she would be lying on this note.

"Fair enough, though I have trouble imagining you as a troublemaker," the Commander commented.

"For certain definitions of 'trouble', one can say," Dorothy admitted. "Second, I am a skilled negotiator and have some training in high-level diplomacy. I have school course records and embassy records if needed," she presented a second file to the Commander.

"That is an interesting skill, and one we are missing," Mu admitted candidly.

"Third, though informal and not documented, I have some small amount of time in training on Ground MS operations, and also some informal training on Mobile Forces operations command. I do not know how much an informal set of training would be worth, though, in a crew of veterans."

"It would be worth something," Mu admitted. "Yours is definitely an interesting jacket (4), with several skill sets we have need of. Specifically, I have need of a full-time CIC commander, and I am considering promoting Miriallia into that position, which vacates her position as Mobile Forces operator. Would you consider that position?"

"I would gladly accept, if you are offering, Commander."

"Okay, stay nearby the convention center for a day or two. I'll do some back-checking on your jacket, and if it checks out clean, you'll probably get the position unless someone walks through that door better qualified for it," Commander La Flaga noted. "Your position takes effect immediately if you are hired on."

"Understood, sir, and thank you," Dorothy replied graciously.

"Just, one question. Why are you giving up the Dermail estate for this?" Mu asked plaintively.

"The estate is not mine, sir. My grandfather has three sons and five grandsons that get the family holdings, the best I can look forward to is a minor functionary position in some embassy somewhere. Not to sound like a hopeless adventurer, but the Archangel is a lot better than a posting to an embassy in a country with a name that is hard to pronounce."

Mu had to struggle hard not to burst into outright laughter at Dorothy's instant cynicism on her own fate. After fifteen seconds of mastering his own reaction, he finally sighed. "Okay, never thought our crazy run for Odysseus' title would be looked at in that light, but I can't fault that reason. Just so long as you know that this isn't a pleasure cruise, and you're likely to end up in some rough straits or run the risk of death. We do get shot at. A lot."

"I noticed, sir," Dorothy acknowledged. "I fully accept the risk. Nothing ventured, nothing experienced."

"Excellent. I'll be in touch within the day, once I have results on your records."

-x-

(6 hours later)

"And who's our next contestant?" Mu asked nobody in particular. He had just dismissed a married couple who had somehow mistook the ship for some sort of 'love boat' cruise that they could get a job on. The reality of the Archangel being a trans-dimensional warship had been shocking to them, but a necessarily harsh lesson. The ship may be generating couples, but it certainly was not a 'love boat' by any stretch of the imagination.

"Actually, sir, five of 'em, recommended by Murdoch," the Baker said. He wasn't carrying his preferred M-60, but he had a Thompson with a drum magazine to 'dissuade' any Romefeller Sycophants from taking any revenge on the Archangel Team.

"Okay then," Mu griped after the five persons entered the room, three of them carrying their own chairs since there were only two seats in the room. "Gentlemen, first off, let's start with your names, please."

"Doctor J," the one with the artificial eyes noted. Mu figured such cybernetics were definitely possible, especially after seeing the Clans' Enhanced Imaging in use.

"Professor G," the second one in line said. His haircut reminded Mu of nothing so much as a mushroom.

"Doktor S," the third said. The artifical nose was something unusual, but Mu figured in whatever field they were supposed to be proficient, shit happens.

"Instructor H," the heaviest of the five declared. His mustache was quite interesting, and probably required a significant amount of wax to keep in place.

"Master O," the fifth said. Mu guessed him for a bodybuilder or martial artist, but certainly not lacking in the intelligence department if he was paired up with the other four.

"Okay, gentlemen, what brings you to this endeavor?" Mu asked directly.

"With the colonies being freed from Oz control, our job is done here," Professor G noted.

"And with the world heading toward peace, or at least toward an armistice, nobody is going to have much use for known instigators such as ourselves," Doktor S considered.

"Instigators? That's an unusual job description. If I may, whose pool did you whizz in enough that you're not going to find any other job around here?"

"We five created one Gundam apiece, and loosed them on the Romefeller Foundation," Instructor H answered directly.

"Okay, then, Charlie, that is a pissing contest worth talking about," Mu gaped.

"Additionally, Wing Zero was a joint design between the five of us, back before Mobile Suits were common knowledge or common tools of war," Doctor J admitted. "We did some consulting on the original Mobile Suit, the Tallgeese."

Mu nodded contemplatively, mulling their list of achievements over for some thirty seconds. "Okay, you have some serious street reputation in these parts. I can see why someone wouldn't want to hire a known insurrectionist, but what would possess you to join a trans-dimensional odyssey?"

"Part vacation compared to this world, part chance to work with new equipment and processes, part chance to find a suitable retirement location, and part chance to help a forlorn ship on its impossible quest," Master O commented.

Again, Mu found himself nodding in contemplation. "Okay, if you take the position, you are aware that you'll be doing a wide array of engineering and support work? Light duty, mostly, given your advanced ages," Mu conceded, given these five would easily be the oldest members of the crew by far if they took the position.

"We expected it," Professor G said.

"And it gives us a chance to do something that isn't purely destructive," Instructor H followed up.

"Okay, I'll review options and see what the Captain has to say, but I think we can find you a bunk on this ship," Commander La Flaga said.

-x-

(Next day, 1400 hours)

"Last one, boss, recommended by Miriallia," the vegetable chef said from his position as door guard.

"Miriallia?" Mu asked, given that she was not involved in the hiring process at all.

"Aye, sir. Says he has some hidden traits, whatever that means."

"I'll trust her on that one," Mu said readily. "Send him in."

The person that walked in did so with hesitation, not a common action for someone who walked through this door. "Thank you for seeing me, Commander," he said in a quiet voice.

"Not a problem," Mu answered. "You are?"

"Trowa Barton, sir," he answered.

The name immediately set off a red flag in Mu's mind, though not for the name Barton, but for a conversation he had once had with Quatre on the five Gundams and their pilots. He decided he would reserve that angle until he had a better idea what the game was in this case. "So, Trowa, what brings you to the Archangel Team?"

"Well, sir, I have lost my memory, and my prior life, what was supposed to be my normal life, is not bringing back any understanding of what I was supposed to be."

"Amnesia, an interesting problem, and not an unheard one in the combat professions," Mu admitted. Severe trauma (physical or psychological) that did not outright kill could cause amnesia in the survivors. "Before we continue, what makes you think that the Archangel might be able to shock you back into normalcy?"

"During the White Fang Rebellion, I came close to several of their Mobile Suits, and I could begin to remember small glimpses of what I think was my prior life. I remember seeing something at night, with a lot of tracers going back and forth, but not much more than that."

"Ah," Mu said, understanding the 'glitch' of memory Trowa had suffered. The battle in question was probably either New Edwards or Siberia, as the Heavyarms had been involved in those night battles to a significant degree. Tracers, given the battle being at night, were expected. "Exposure to Mobile Suits jump-starts your memories. So, you are thinking that exposure to the mobile forces of the Archangel might complete the restoration of your past?"

"I believe so, sir," Trowa answered.

"Before you sign on, though, I need to make one thing clear. No case of amnesia is corrected in a single 'fix'; this will be a process of time and repetition. If you do this, you may regain your memories of your past, but you will likely never see this world again. Do you accept this?"

Trowa hesitated, knowing that he was abandoning any manner of stability for a chance at remembering his past. It was the latter choice that won; stability without a past to speak of did not seem right to him. "I accept, sir."

"Also, this is not an easy mission, Trowa. We are in combat a lot, and you run the risk of death if you go with the ship."

This was not an issue to Trowa. At a core level, he had no real fear of death, though he could not understand why he did not fear death. "I have no problem with this, sir."

"Very well, Trowa Barton, I accept your application to the Archangel Team. You are hereby assigned to the Hangar Equipment Operator's detail until further notice. Report to this building tomorrow at 6AM with your personal gear and you will be shown a bunk on the ship."

"Thank you, sir, I will do whatever I can, as I remember it," he admitted.

After the former Gundam Pilot left, he picked up a phone. "Chandratta, Mu. Trowa Barton just walked in, looking for a position on the team. Yes, I accepted him, though he has amnesia right now. He'll have to relearn his skills in time, but we can be ready for that. Relena has possession of his Gundam, after she received it from some rebels in southeast Asia. Yes, I want you to have Dorothy negotiate its transfer to our possession, we'll bury it in storage until he is ready to pilot it. Thank you."

Mu set the phone receiver down and leaned back in his chair. "This may work. Certainly, it will be fun."

-x-x-x-

(6 January AC196, 2200 Hours)
(Archangel Hangar)

"This is where things get challenging," Kira noted, waving to the parts strewn about the floor of the hangar at the feet of his Gundam.

"What is this supposed to be, Kira?" Hikaru asked after a moment. "I'm not seeing it just by looking at the pieces."

"It is an adapter set for the Strike Freedom, two shoulder pauldrons and an adapter frame for the rear of the Gundam to mount the actual Striker Packs," Kira responded to her confusion smoothly. "This will allow me to mount the Aile Strike if I expect I'll need extra speed, the Launcher Strike if I need some serious firepower, the Sword Strike if I have to go in close, IWSP Strike for a combination of those three, or even Morgan's Gunbarrel Strike if I could figure out how to use them."

"Now that is amazing," Hikaru said. "One Gundam that can do it all?"

"Erm, not quite," Kira said. "It has its limitations, but at least I can now use the add-on equipment."

"Well, what's so difficult here?" Hikaru asked after a moment.

"The adapter plates are Gundanium Alloy. They're lighter than I expected, but I can't lift them by hand, and I can't lift them with a cargo exoskeleton and weld at the same time."

"Oh, which one do you want me to do?" Hikaru asked immediately.

Kira considered that request carefully. He trusted Hikaru on the welder, but he trusted her more on a forklift or cargo exoskeleton than a blowtorch. It really came down to where she was better, though Kira silently admitted he wanted to keep her away from the business end of the project if possible, for safety reasons. Plasma welding was some tough detail, and Gundanium required it.

"Grab a cargo exoskeleton and we'll start on the left shoulder plate," Kira decided after a moment.

"On it," Hikaru answered immediately before she turned away from Kira. He had to stop himself from staring at her on the way to the bay for the exoskeletons, though focusing back on the task was not all that difficult for him. Kira figured he could always watch her running around at a later time, staying alive to watch her was the primary concern of the day.

The task was both simple and complex. Simple, in that five plates had to be welded together, which would be attached to the top of the shoulder plates and would serve as the connection point for the shoulder addons for the Launcher and Sword packs. The complexity was the material in question, though Kira had some pointers from the Gundam Scientists on the handling and welding of the particular metal.

Hikaru was not long in the cargoframe bay before she was out and trudging along the hangar floor to join Kira in this mad endeavor. Kira directed her into place to prop up the first of the plates and roll it over onto the second base plate, which the Strike Freedom had made sure was notched to make interlocking the plates easy and foolproof. A rubber mallet sufficed for beating the plates into place and interlocked so they could be welded.

"Is that it for this one?" Hikaru asked after Kira finished beating the plates together.

"This is just two of five for the left shoulder assembly," Kira admitted before he lit off the plasma welder.

"Okay," Hikaru acknowledged before she leaned back into the cargoframe. She had the controls locked out, so it would not do anything if she touched a control surface until she unlocked the system. From her position, she considered that Kira was, in his own way, a good guy. He cared for the people around him, he was trying to avoid letting the wars change him, and he was always nice to people, even those he didn't want to deal with. It was such a nice list of things he did, even in the face of terrible odds and prospects for the future...

The Magic Knight did not realize she was staring off into space, or more appropriately, staring blankly at the left knee of the Duel across the hangar. She did realize she was oblivious to Kira's attempts to get her attention, though she had no idea how long he had been signaling her to move the partially-completed assembly. With clear embarrassment for her loss of focus, she unlocked the exoskeleton and began the slow process of moving the center and front of the shoulder assembly toward the back plate — the whole assembly was properly called a 'shoulder pauldron', since it counted as an armor add-on as well as a mounting point.

"Good there!" Kira noted. He had a hydraulic jack for this part, so that a second exoskeleton would not be needed for the assembly process. A few quick pumps of the jack and the plate in question was levered up into place so he could finish the mechanical assembly. "Bring it towards me slowly!" Kira waved her forward, waved again, then signaled stop, to which Hikaru responded promptly each time.

Hikaru plaid close attention to his actions at this point, though for now it was nothing more than beating on one piece of metal with a rubber mallet, trying to drive it into the grooves on another piece of metal. She considered the whole 'hyperspace mallet' conundrum from her young days of seeing cartoons with one character (usually a lady) pulling a mallet out of nowhere and whacking someone with it (usually a guy), though the reality was far less entertaining. Even a small rubber mallet like he was using seemed like something that would hurt, in her estimation. She certainly didn't have any reason to use one on Kira, he was anti-lecherous if anything.

Why am I thinking about that? Hikaru asked herself mentally. That is so far from his mind — and work isn't, she realized after she saw him waving at her again. "What was it?" Hikaru asked.

"Hoist the whole assembly up slow, so I can weld the bottom!"

"Oh, okay!" Hikaru raised the forks on the exoskeleton, then spread them as wide as possible for maximum stability. Getting the fork tines under the assembly took two tries and judicious use of two hydraulic jacks, but the material was airborne in moments once secured. When Kira finished signaling raise, she stopped the controls and locked the system out, so he could get under it safely.

After a minute of his welding, Hikaru came back to her prior thoughts. He really is a great guy. I think he'd get along with my brothers and my dad pretty well. More so after they hear the stories of our misadventures, she considered. I think I should ask him out, this isn't a bad time for it. I wonder what he'll say, though, after dealing with Flay. Don't want to hurt his feelings, especially after that.

"Hikaru, you're daydreaming again," Kira prompted her.

"Done already?" Hikaru was properly surprised at his speed, but also thankful that her surprised reaction would cover her daydreaming.

"We have two parts to add to the assemblies still," Kira admitted. "Please set it down on the center of the cinder-block stack, and grab up one of the rim collars."

"Got it," Hikaru answered calmly. I have to get my mind in it! I like him, but I don't want to blow it by screwing this up!

"Take it easy, Hikaru, this isn't a race," Kira cautioned her. "We've got all day."

"Okay, I'll slow it down," and I'll ask him out for tomorrow, she concluded. We'll be together on this ship for a while, so...

-x-x-x-

(20 January AC196, 1000 Hours)
(New Port City, Airport Runway 16L)

"Bring it on, buddy boy!" Gomer ordered by radio of the next vehicle in line to drop off supplies. "You're a 1.4, you drop your load over by the Strike Freedom. Move on!" and he gave an exaggerated gesture to the outermost unload area, that was dedicated solely to Class 1 (Explosive) materials for ammunition or demolition charges. "Keep 'em coming! I want a challenge!"

Another truck rolled into the hangar, this one with double trailers. "Manifest, sir!" the driver handed over a clipboard with significant paperwork on it.

"Ah, everything except my pool toys! Your offload point is over by the Buster. Snap to it!" Gomer waved the next one on to his offload point.

"How we coming, Gomer?" Murdoch asked as he approached the Hangar 2-I-C.

"We're about 40 percent inducted, if everyone is on time we should be done offloading and stowing the goods by midday tomorrow!" He waved to the next truck in line, though this one was a military equipment hauler. "What you humin' in, Sergeant?" Gomer asked after the truck came to a stop.

"Refurbished equipment pulled from the ship, damaged missile launchers and depth charge launchers, and a sensor alley, whatever the hell that is," The Sergeant answered, looking over his manifest.

"Sensor Alley, they're the lateral sensors and part of the sonar array," Murdoch clarified. "Offload over by the Timber Wolf," and he pointed at Mu's large Orange Omnimech.

"This is how it's going, chief," Gomer commented. "Nothing special here, I think I have this wrapped up."

"Carry on then, no whips or chains on the delivery boys. They're not here for your personal amusement."

"Whips and — erm, roger that, sir," Gomer corrected himself mid-sentence.

-x-

"This is...amazing," Murrue noted with clear awe.

"Yeah, the boys in Davenport definitely did their job right," Morgan noted.

"Replated the whole ship. 1026 tons of armor, in-freaking-credible," Mu considered. "I didn't know the ship had grown that much that it had that much plate on it."

"Yep, the ship really has gained size," Murrue noted. "And I think it'll be larger still before we get home."

"Not going to argue that," Mu said. "And, all things being equal, I look forward to it," he knocked twice on the new Gundanium hull plates. "We will probably need it."

"Whoa, what do we have here?" Morgan Chevalier asked indirectly, staring at part of the underside armor.

"What we have here, is a Kilroy," Mu La Flaga commented. "Been a while since I saw one of these."

"What is it?" Morgan asked.

"Kilroy is the dude that has been everywhere, and where he goes, he leaves this mark," Mu traced the glyph with his fingers. "Wait, this isn't paint, this is impregnated into the metal," Mu noted after he touched it.

"Serious?" Murrue asked, looking at it. "Oh, wait, there's more about ten meters down the hull," The Captain moved down the location of the next marking. "This is into the metal as well. 'Dover Dockworkers — on time and just right, or the next assbeating is free' it says," she suppressed a chuckle on the comment.

"Gotta love their go-get-'em attitude," Morgan noted. "Next one is about ten meters down the hull — probably on the next plate." The three walked down the hull to the next spot. " 'Spetsnaz was here — say Hello to the Reaper for us' this one says,"

"So, I wonder what the next one will say," Murrue asked. She marched forward to the next position, then stopped dead when she saw what was now permanently in the armor. " 'It's a Gundam Warship, Bitches!' on this plate."

"Well, the average MS pilot is afraid of a Gundam, might as well give them reason to fear the ship as well," Mu commented with a smile.

-x-

"Okay, major thing we need to keep in mind, with the Gundanium armor, no more Ablative Gel systems. The armor can dissipate the heat of reentry without it, so one less thing to break on the ship," Newman said.

"Damn good," Chandratta answered. "Maybe with the new plate, my weapons will take less damage."

"It's certainly gonna be harder for a smaller unit to punch through the Gundanium armor. We have over a meter of the plate in certain areas, and Gundanium takes a lot of damage to punch through," Sai said. "Also, since the armor isn't electrically or magnetically active, our sensors should work a bit better."

"If you can see 'em, we can hit 'em, and if we can hit 'em, for sure Chandratta can kill 'em," Newman nodded twice. "Always good to be driving three hundred eighty thousand tons of whoopass."

"And damn good to have a professional pilot along for it," Chandratta said. "You keep the ship stable for me, I'll turn our foes into hamburger and charred steel."

"Now, you guys heard that Miriallia is going to be the next Commander Badgiruel?" Sai asked.

"Oh God, the way you phrased that, you just made it sound way worse than it really is," Chandratta said. "Seriously, though, I think it'll work out well. Miriallia is on the level, and she isn't really as hard as Natarle was."

"True," Sai admitted.

"And you know anything about Dorothy Catalonia?"

"I think she stalked me, briefly," Sai admitted.

"Whoo hoo! Two points for the sensor operator!" Newman misread the comment.

"I meant, as in 'interesting' stalker, not 'pervert' stalker," Sai corrected the helmsman. "There is a difference," he concluded.

Chandratta noticed some movement behind Sai, then grimaced. "Actually, I would say, 'confused and staring at the oddity' stalker," Warrant Officer / Operator Catalonia corrected Sai's misunderstanding. "I was slightly confused as to why a ship with such a tall reputation had such oddball crewmembers as yourself and Tolle."

"And did you come to a conclusion?" Newman asked.

"Yes, sir, a ship with this strange a fate requires an equally strange crew."

"She's got us there," Chandratta admitted.

"Well, welcome to the crew, and get ready for stranger things still," Newman said.

-x-x-x-

(25 January AC196, 2200 Hours)
(New Port City, Airport Runway 16L)

"This is it, people! Time to go for it!" Newman reached to the outside of the throttle housing and began pushing the levitator control toward the mechanical stop.

"When we are clear of ground effect, prepare for jump control," Murrue ordered.

"We will be clear in ten seconds," Sai noted.

"I suspect this will be an interesting journey," Dorothy said to nobody in particular.

"Hold onto your ass, girl, we're goin' for a wild ride," Chandratta answered the new Operator. "Where we land, nobody knows!"

"Where we hope we land, is home," Miriallia corrected Chandratta's cavalier attitude. "I just got married, I'm looking forward to settling down, you know?"

"We're clear of ground effect," Sai said. "Initiating jump in five, four, three, two, one, jump!"

For the ship, the world flashed white briefly, then flashed back to blue skies.

-x-

"Do you feel that?" a lady with pink hair noted.

"Feel what?" the nearby guy noted.

"I — " She was cut off by something that sounded like the crackle of ball lightning in the sky. Both looked up to see a bright white flash, then a massive white-gray-and-red object of some manner headed for the ground across the skies above them. "What is — "

"Get down!" the guy jump-tackled the girl to the ground before the object impacted the ground. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he expected this was not going to be a fun occurrence.

A few seconds after the two hit the ground, the object struck the surface some distance away, but even at the distance the shockwave of the crash was severe enough to blow them across the ground for several yards.

-x-

"Oh yeah, this is a habit for the ship, isn't it?" Murrue asked blearily.

"Not the first time, I think," Sai answered. "Sensors are up, not reading anything in our vicinity. If anyone noticed us hit, well, they aren't in a hurry to check it out."

"Well, another four-point-zero landing," Newman noted. "At least we struck arse first, I'm not seeing any major damage to the ship."

"We live!" Chandratta noted after he roused from a temporary red-out.

"Well, time to get to work. Newman, start her up again," Captain Remius ordered.

---

Author's Chapter Afterword:

This is where the adventures of Wing-era Gundam end and the next series begins.

First off, let me say this destination is not a one-shot run. I have several one-shot destinations planned in the future of the ship, but I was thinking about putting those in every other section or so. Several bizarre ones, several good and logical ones, and all will be 'interesting' in the usual fashion I intend. Of course, between those brief one-shots, you have the actual sections that can get pretty wild and wooly of their own right.

Now, onto the fun of this chapter. First off, it has come to my attention that some people would consider Mariemaia's actions incongruent with her position in Endless Waltz, though I wrote this from the position of an alternate theory. With the Romefeller War concluded and Treize still alive and well, all of Dekim's brainwashing to have Mariemaia 'follow her father's path' just backfired on him in no small manner. Simply stated, her father is alive, thus 'following her father's path' now effectively puts her at odds with Dekim Barton, who is out for omnicide and later control of what little would remain of human population. So, Mariemaia back-doors out a message to White Fang, who forwards it to Treize, who calls in the Archangel to sort this family feud out. Problem solved, or so they say, right?

Well, not so fast, bucko. Even with the Archangel ripping the fledgling Mariemaia Army apart, three problems are still outstanding. One: Dekim is, technically, still alive, with him not being in the colony at the time of the attack. Two, White Fang now knows of the issue, so their response to the problem is still to be seen. Three, Leia Barton or Middie Une becomes the question for Treize, and a tough question at that. At least he has his daughter by his side, and daddy's girl has all the propensity to grow up a ruthless schemer just the same as the father.

I'll leave these answers up to your discretion (and inevitable guessing), given that I am now effectively done in Wing.

On an aside, you will note that, erm, Leia Barton is alive here. It was Only after that section was written that I was informed Leia was supposed to die 2 years after Mariemaia was born, so I rolled dice on it, and came to the result that she stayed in. So, Mariemaia's mother remains in, but a second check is that Mariemaia was influenced slightly by Leia's raising her. Thus, the result here.

Now, you will note that the Archangel is back to full manning plus some new oddballs to take on the challenge of the journey. I will wager you readers wanted to see more of the Gundam pilots go for broke on the Archangel, but keep in mind that the Dice rule all and I am simply navigating the rapids on their course and speed recommendations. Kinda like flying to the Alps in a plane with no windows. Give me a map and a stopwatch, and I'm pretty sure I can get you there. Some days, that is how writing my stories feels to me, but I digress.

Dorothy was a crowd-favorite to accompany the Archangel, and the trajectory was fairly obvious from the word 'go' on her status. In fact, she rolled a 'join' result back in the chapter after she first saw screen-time here, once she correctly deduced that the Archangel was going to win and eventually leave. The Gundam Scientists were an interesting result after I started doing carte-blanche rolls on who applies and who does not; but, in essence, if anyone was likely to bail, it would be them. They kinda earned their swan-dive from the stage in the last Ep of Wing, along with Quinze, but in this case, no naval scrap no dead scientists. Trowa was the other major that came in, though given he never encountered WIng Zero, Takeshi and I had to really bend some to come up with a plausible procession. Hope it makes as much sense to you readers as it did to me.

Quickref: as of this chapter, 88,000 hits on all the chapters, 418 reviews across 37 chapters. I was never expecting this story to go anywhere, so much thank you all to the readers and reviewers!

That's roughly it for the major explanations for this chapter. NEXT UP: New world, new problems. And lots of explosions, both intentional and not.

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Review Replies: 21 Reviews since the last chapter. 21! This is well beyond anything I really expected of this story, and not the first chapter in the Wing set with those kinds of reviews. THANK YOU ALL!

Takeshi Yamato: Gotta keep it fun, it's no fun if it isn't fun, y'know?

chm01: Slightly confused by your comment, so can I get an explanation?

Crystal Flower: I tend to reserve that for the real sj1t and fan collisions, or battling major tangos. Of course, with the hellish trajectory of this story, it will happen a lot more.

Knight Owl 4183: None of the clones, but the ship has been replated in Gundanium and they scored the Heavyarms and its amnesiac pilot. On the point of Mobile Doll systems, erm, NEG. Kira is the only one that speaks out against them directly, but effectively nobody on the crew likes a Mobile Doll.

Mordalfus Grea: They may be headed in that direction, but there will always be a fly in the ointment. Hope this chapter shows you why!

Mega 1987: Actually, Stravag didn't know who was going, except for Dorothy. And for Tempting Fate / Nanoha, well, any information pertaining to that is classified. You will get no comment from me, nor shall any other voices in your head be briefed on it! Har!

C0dy 88: I wonder what you are referring to as a completely original world. Can you reply on that subject?

Infinite Freedom: Well, things might be leaning in that general direction after this chapter. Stay tuned for further info!

Knives 91: This was definitely a fun chapter from the battles, but a tough one. Stand by, the fun is DEFINITELY not over!

Sieben Nightwing: Error corrected. We have some cleanup on a prior chapter to finish this weekend, then we begin in on the next story chapter.

Rc 12 12: The Billy Mays gag was just for fun, playing around with the television, since infomercials are so damn prevalent.

Akalon: Error corrected. Thank you!

Victor M Sarks: Your points are considered and may crop up in future chapters. Stay tuned on that note. Thanks for the long and serious review!

Dustin: Thanks for the quick-ref on Zoids Genesis. May have to look into it at this time. Hope this chapter is on the level for you! On the Mai-Hime thing, can you do a repeat on your concept? I don't remember it offhand.

Flawless Cowboy 2552: Oh so much thank you for the doorstopper of a review! I think we went over all the technical details in PMs, so I'll spare going over that in review reply here (I could do 2K on reply to that alone), but much thank you for the MAC cannon specifics. We ran those numbers in the Design Flaws forum a while back, and came to the conclusion that the Super MAC was a badass chunk of hardware. And BTW, I love that level on Halo 2 where you're literally slugging it out with Elites on the loading mechanism of the cannon.

Death Zealot: TWO uber-doorstopper reviews in one chapter? I must have done something either really right, or really wrong :)

NP on the lack of reviews, I figured you were in the sj1tcan in some fashion or another.

I need to make sure I have the ranks sorted out properly for everyone, so I really need to read back through and see what I presently show everyone as.

Actually, I am alternating magic/tech/magic/tech on the travels, with the occasional oddball one-shot thrown in for shits and grins.

On the side story, I may be throwing that into the rotation sometime soon, so stay tuned. The percentages have been ditched, since I could never remember to keep them updated.

Stand by for further action!

Nick 012000: I don't believe I actually mentioned Umi was damaged, just Selesce. Sorry to nuke that bit of drama. Stay tuned, though, things may get hairier as it goes along!

Travys: Thanks for the comment on detail; I try to keep it going without bleeding through too much detail, which is far too easy for me (I am, by profession, a very detail-oriented person).

Oh, there will be more AU work, trust me.

Thanks for the accolades. More kickass dice-dealing shall be had!

Hellhound DOW: All three of your suggestions are in the pool of possibles, but where to, the dice shall determine...

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! You guys keep giving me gas, and I'll keep adding it to the fire and flames!

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The Gripe Sheet:

Any typos found in last chapter were corrected. Sieben and Akalon were pretty much tied on finding the one major one outstanding. Thanks to Sieben Nightwing, Takeshi Yamato, and Necroblade for the beta work!

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Footnotes:

(1): This is an old nickname for the M-60. (It loved to stop working if you didn't clean it regularly, hence why they called it the 'pig' in Vietnam.)

(2): NOTE CLEARLY: This is a design variance for this particular Strike Freedom, it does not use the MMI-GAU27 31mm CIWS guns that the 'stock' Strike Freedom uses.

(3): This is a real weapon system. You can find all manner of video of the Mark 19 automatic grenade launcher on YT.

(4): Jacket in this reference is referring to personnel records. (Yes, this note showed up in a prior chapter of one of the Jokers Wild series. It's important enough that we are posting it again, for those persons who read this story but don't read Jokers Wild.)

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EXTRA: Memorial Boxes, Memorials, and the deceased

Across the hallway from the Hot Springs, a wall is dedicated only to the memorials of the fallen soldiers, pilots, crewmen, and officers of the Archangel Team. The following memorials are in place:

Dearka Elsman: Pilot, Memorial Box with Magic Knight glove

Kristen Redmond: Battlemech Pilot, Memorial Box with recovered Jade Falcon armpatch.

Ship's Crew: Wall Placard with names and ranks (Bronze)

Mechanics (Murdoch's Madmen): Wall Placard with names and ranks (Ferro-fibrous armor plate)

This hallway was chosen as the site because most of the crew would venture by it at least once in a whiule, so everyone had a chance to remember where the crew has been, and who didn't come with them.