Merry Christmas!


Chapter Twenty-Five: The Beauty of Gray

I couldn't feel its heat. Its energy. But I knew it was there. The moment it went through the cockpit I was going to be killed instantly. I mean, what would possibly happen to me other than being totally liquidified by the beam sword this wolf contraption has in its mouth? I mean, it's not like I know what being boiled alive feels like but it wouldn't last very long, would it?

There had to be something I could do. The monster was about to strike, and put that beam saber right through my cockpit. In a matter of seconds I was going to die.

What could I do, though? I had lost my Phase Shift and power to my energy sword.

But I couldn't just sit down and close my eyes and wait to die! As the BuCUE got into optimum striking position above me, its paws causing earthquakes in the cockpit as it stepped on the Strike, I realized that my acceptance of being liquidified was false. I was not going to let that happen to me, damn it! I had no weapons but I was going to fight anyway.

And then, I realized my only chance.

The BuCUE's bestial neck.

Just because I had lost Phase Shift didn't mean I still didn't have power. I forced the Strike's fists to move up and grab the BuCUE by the neck.

The wolf-thing was immediately halted, but immediately its right paw slammed against the cockpit, nearly making me lose control of the machine. And unlike a living, breathing being, I was not going to suffocate the BuCUE. The thing could hit me forever until the Strike was destroyed or out of power, whichever came first.

I did not need SEED mode to figure out what I had to do.

I forced the controls to respond and I wrestled the BuCUE to the ground to my left. Before the BuCUE could kick and thrash me off of it I forced the Strike's right fist to reach towards the BuCUE's mouth and literally snatch the beam saber from the BuCUE's jaws.

Immediately, the beam saber's power began draining. I had mere seconds before it ran out of power and became useless.

I was told later that I made the most horrific scream as I stabbed the BuCUE in its underbelly with its own beam saber. Like I was possessed, or had become a demonic monster masquerading inside a human skin. And in a way that was right. I had been possessed by the battle, by having to kill, and I had no mercy in me, just desperation and reflex.

The BuCUE sparked and thankfully did not explode. It just died. It did not have Phase Shift armor like the Strike so its armor plating did not turn gray, but it didn't need to. All that mattered was that I had won. I had managed to wipe out an entire BuCUE squad and accompanying helicopters with just a long sword and a Strike not optimized for desert warfare.

How powerful was the Strike? How well had Morgenroete designed this behemoth?

Apparently good enough for it to do its job, which was destroy ZAFT machines.

I wanted to try to move the Strike, but its power was so low that all I could do was move the Strike off of the BuCUE and put it to rest besides the dead, unmoving machine. It seemed I had killed the pilot rather than strike the power supply, which was why it hadn't exploded. In a way, I felt that it was good thing, one less threat to worry about. On the other . . .

Another life.

I was supposed to be done with killing. I was supposed to be in Alaska right now, maybe even on my way back home to Orb. To my parents.

Why did I have to be out here in these stupid sands having to kill people all over again? I even shot one guy in the neck in Tassil itself. Why could I not just go home and have the war mean nothing to me again besides the mild inconvenience of weak radio waves? Why?

Why did it have to be me?

But I knew the answer to that question already.

I had made the choice to sacrifice myself for the Archangel and my friends. That's why I was here. I could have gambled that Yzak and his suicide run would have been stopped by the Archangel or he could have missed completely. But I had chosen not to take that chance and sacrificed. Because that was the right thing to do. That was the only way to protect everyone. My life meant nothing if my responsibility, which was that ship, the crew, my friends, were all destroyed.

I realized, right then and there, that I was no longer a civilian. I had lost that way of thinking.

I was a soldier.

I really was a soldier.

Despite the heat of the outside, I had no choice. I was going to suffocate for the third time if I did not open the cockpit. I opened it. I was a good distance away from the gates, the battle had kept me within sight of the town, but far enough away so a sniper couldn't get a good bead on me. Or so I thought. In hindsight, this was not one of my smarter decisions. My inexperience was showing once again.

I buried my face in my hands, but I forced myself not to cry. I told myself I had to accept this. That there would be no way to completely transition back into a civilian. To be my old self. This new me, the soldier me, was always going to be lingering. No matter what I did or where I went, my battles were going to follow me, and so would every single person I had killed, faceless, voiceless, or fully in the flesh.

The sooner I accepted this, the sooner I could fight again and keep protecting everyone.

I heard a voice on the radio then. "Princess, are you all right? You look like you've seen better days!"

I recognized that voice immediately. "Don't talk to me about 'better days', Lieutenant Commander."

I paused. "And, please, for the absolute last time, don't call me 'princess'."

"Yeah, I should be calling you 'Ensign' anyway," Mu La Flaga replied.

"Ensign".

That really drove it even further home. I really was no longer a civilian. I was fair game.

I wasn't Cagalli Yamato, Orb college student.

I was Ensign Cagalli Yamato, Mobile Suit pilot for the Atlantic Federation.

And until I got home, that was who I was going to be.

Until I finally got home . . . and could be Cagalli Yamato, Orb college student again.


Tassil's fighting was terrible enough that ZAFT was still trying to pacify the city into the afternoon. Desert Dawn was fighting hard. To make the technologically superior ZAFT stop in their tracks in anything took either brilliance or grit. Brilliance was something I couldn't credit Desert Dawn for just yet, but one thing was sure, they had grit. And bravery. And they were going to fight to defend their homeland.

They put me into a jeep driven by the Dawn soldiers and they immediately shipped me back to the Archangel as they began preparing the Strike for transport. Multiple Skygraspers filled the skies, though I doubted they were all Archangel's besides La Flaga. Cyprus was still in Earth hands, as were several nearby Greek islands. That's probably where the Skygraspers were coming from.

I turned on a radio to the Skygrasper channel to figure out what was going on, and it became clear that it was not fun up there. ZAFT was shooting at them with a vengeance. I couldn't take more than a minute of their panic and terror and pained cries as they were hit before I shut the radio off.

The driver was no other than the teenaged Ahmed. He had somehow made it out of Tassil. Apparently drove out himself. I wondered if he was going to become one of those storied soldiers, ones who would go neck-deep in a million battles and somehow come out unscathed. He didn't have a single scratch on him, his hair wasn't even that messed up.

He was respectful, though, just giving me a wave as I hopped into the passenger seat and he put the jeep into gear. He took a moment before speaking to me. "You did it. I can't believe it. You're as good as the rumors say."

"I was lucky," I said, not really wanting to talk about the battle. I was going to relive that battle for weeks, months, maybe even the rest of my life. Why did I need to remember it right now, right after I had fought it?

"That is not luck. You are amazing. Amazing. We finally have someone who can beat the ZAFT! Beat them easily! I can only imagine how easily you'd win with full power and ammunition."

"I don't want to think about it," I told him.

Ahmed sighed. "I know, I was just seeing if . . . you know what, never mind. I keep forgetting you're just like the rest of us. You're not different just because you're a pilot."

I could not help but wonder if Ahmed would say such a thing if he knew I was a Coordinator too.

Would he kill me if he knew?

Would I kill him if he tried to kill me? If Desert Dawn turned on me, tried to kill me, kill my friends, would I wipe out their whole resistance?

Weeks ago, the answer would be an obvious no. But now things weren't so sure. Everything was in shades of gray. No easy morality. Killing was the way to survive.

And I was beginning to scare myself. It was getting easier to kill.

I had killed all of those pilots without even thinking about what I was doing! The last one was without even seeing that seed!

As we went into a rocky crevasse, suddenly, I saw the Archangel. They had managed to find a good hiding spot, and suddenly, I felt heartened by seeing that. But a scary determination rose in me as I saw that ship.

My mission would not be over until we were in Orb and safe.

I remembered Artemis. Garcia. "You like being dominant. You like resorting to violence. You make high-minded speeches about not fighting for military governments and putting up a pacifistic exterior. The truth is, you are a natural soldier. A little more battle-hardening and you'd be damn close to perfect."

Was that true? Had Garcia read me perfectly?

After all, was this what I was becoming? A soldier? Ensign Cagalli Yamato?

No, I couldn't be a perfect soldier, could I?

I had let Garcia and everyone inside that base die to Nicol. I had chosen not to sacrifice for them and so everyone in that base died. That was going to happen to the Archangel the moment I stopped fighting.

No, not just the Archangel. Not now. Everyone fighting ZAFT was going to die if I stepped aside and refused to fight. Their lives were in my hands, and so was every ZAFT soldier who fought me.

I was going to need to separate them. Put everyone I wanted to protect in one hand and protect them, carry them with me, guide them to their goals. Then there was the hand carrying the ZAFT lives. I was going to have to crush every single life within it.

Damn it, I realized, as those thoughts popped into my head. Damn it, damn it, damn it. What the hell is happening to me?

"Are you all right?" Ahmed asked to my left.

I looked at him, and I suddenly realized I had begun crying. It wasn't super-obvious, just a couple of tears, but he had noticed.

"I'm just glad to see the ship again. I never thought I'd make it," I lied.

Well, sort of. I was happy to see the ship again for obvious reasons. But that was not what I was crying about. That makes it a lie, doesn't it?

"I understand," Ahmed said. "It is basically your home right now. You're lucky."

"No," I said. "The Archangel is not my home. Just my base. My home is . . . elsewhere."

"Until you get back to your real home, that ship is your home," Ahmed said. "You need to think of it that way. It'll make you want to fight for it, to protect everyone in there."

Thanks for stating the obvious, Ahmed. Ever thought that I wanted to be in denial?

I shook off the tears as we pulled up in front of the hangar bay. It wouldn't do for my friends to see me like this. I had to appear strong and defiant and ready to kick some more ass so they wouldn't worry about me.

I could pull that off, couldn't I?


It turned out I couldn't. Tolle was waiting for me and the waterworks restarted the moment I saw him.

I could barely speak as I saw him rush into the hangar bay, elbowing his way past a few of the stunned mechanics trying to fix a Skygrasper. "Cagalli?" he asked.

I bit my lip, and tried to speak, but only a choked whisper could escape my mouth. "Tolle."

I ran towards him and practically nearly tackled him. He grunted as I drove him back a couple of paces, but he managed to stand his gorund, and he embraced me, though nowhere near as tightly as I was embracing him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I know I scared you, I'm sorry," I managed.

Tolle's voice was soft, warm. "I never gave up on you."

"Don't you ever give up on me," I said. "Never give up on me. I'm not dying out there. I'm dying of old age in a senior citizen's home. That's final."

"I know," Tolle said. "Do you want to talk about . . .?"

That was Tolle, trying to make sure I was okay. "Later."

"Okay."

We just stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's embrace. "I love you," I whispered to him. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Tolle softly chuckled, and I could hear a hint of tears choking up in his voice as he responded. "It's okay, Cagalli. I love you too."

Why did I need to tell him that? At this point words weren't necessary to tell him how I felt.

No, I wasn't telling him that.

It was more to myself. I was reminding myself that I loved Tolle, not Athrun.

Athrun's action saving my life in the atmosphere was heroic and sacrificial if it had failed. But I could not choose Athrun. Choosing Athrun meant sacrificing my friends, including Tolle. Athrun's love was not worth the death of my friends.

I was reminding of myself of that. Why did I need to? Had Athrun's action affected me that much? I didn't even think of it that much while I was stuck in Tassil.

So why now? Why when I was in the arms of my actual boyfriend, did Athrun's action matter?

Was it because I never would have made it here if it wasn't for Athrun?

Damn it. I couldn't love Athrun. But now I was tempted to, because of what he did. His feelings were real. I don't think a stalker, even an interplanetary one, would sacrifice himself and his machine and go against his orders to save an enemy pilot. No, it wasn't like he wanted to possess me or anything else. Love had to have been his motivator.

But, again, loving Athrun meant that I would be abandoning my friends and this unlucky crew of various misfits working together. And I could not do that.

It just wasn't in me.

After a minute or so of being in his arms, I had calmed down enough that I was able to separate. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. "I'm sorry. I should've really taken a shower before I did that."

Tolle smiled. "You need a lot, I think. You have raccoon eyes going on."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm just glad you're okay. Your appearance doesn't mean anything. What matters is that you're all right. You're not even hurt. I just hope we can get out of here soon so we can go home. I have no clue what you've been through but it must've been really bad."

"We can talk about it tonight," I said. I knew I could not say "later". If I did that, I would never want to talk to him about my night of hell. I needed to trust Tolle and that meant that I needed to open up to him rather than cramming everything down inside me to the point where it would boil over and then I'd wind up alienating him . . . and possibly everyone else.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked.

"They're on the bridge. I can take you there. They're doing a lot of important stuff so Badgiruel wouldn't release them. The captain managed to get Badgiruel to let me leave though. The captain seems to be the only person left onboard who realizes we're still Orb civilians despite our military ranks."

"We're not civilians anymore," I said.

"Huh?" Tolle asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"These military ranks are real. So are our enlistment papers. They're real. We're actual soldiers, Tolle. And now that we're stuck down here, you know what makes that time in space? Basic frickin' training."

"Cagalli, I . . ." Tolle looked down. "I-I guess."

What had made me say that? I didn't need to be so frank and brutal about it.

"I'm sorry," I quickly said. "I'm just . . . I'm just cynical right now. And tired. I really need a shower and a bed."

"That sounds like a good idea," said a familiar voice.

I turned and saw the prince. He wore his Earth Alliance uniform, displaying his "Petty Officer" rank, rather handsomely.

"Prince Kira," I said.

Kira just laughed. "My title right now is 'Petty Officer Kira Yeley Athha'," he said. "Until I'm off this ship the 'prince' title doesn't mean a whole lot."

He walked up to us. "Tolle, can you excuse us for a moment?"

"Uh, sure, why?" Tolle asked.

"I have to talk with Cagalli about something important. It's regarding the Strike."

"Oh . . . okay. No problem. I would like to take her to the bridge so she can talk to her friends. I'm sure Elle wants to see her too."

That's right. Elle! The girl I had promised to save! I had to see her as quickly as possible!

But before I could take off Kira kind of stepped forward in front of me, all while maintaining his eye contact with Tolle. "This won't take long, I promise."

"All right," Tolle said, and he walked over to some strange machine by the Skygrasper. It looked almost like the Morgenroete simulator at the . . .

Oh crap.

Tolle, if you get any ideas in your head about trying to fly a Skygrasper so help me . . .

But Kira jarred me out of my newest worry just by his darker tone. I had never heard Kira use so suspicious of a voice before. He had always sounded so kind.

"Cagalli, I know what I heard on the radio and I didn't like it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I had a feeling what he was getting at.

"I heard your voice. It changed. You sounded older, almost robotic. You did not sound like yourself anymore."

Oh no. He's talking about the seed back in the battle. The realization that it was no longer my secret made my heart slam against my chest to the point where it started to ache. I wanted to get away from him but he was the son of the Lion of Orb. He would not let me walk away. He had too much strength in him to let this go.

"I . . . I . . ." I had no idea where to begin, so all I could do was stammer.

"I'm beginning to think you're starting to develop an alternate personality, Cagalli. And that is scaring me," Kira said.

"An alternate personality?" I repeated, not quite believing my ears.

"Yeah. My father told me about this once, a person who would be totally different once he got into battle. He called it a 'berserker'."

"A what?"

Kira's voice softened. "I'm worried about you, okay? I don't . . . I don't want to hear that voice again. It's already bad enough I heard you shrieking like some kind of demon when you made your last kill, but I can understand that. That was you. And considering your situation I don't blame you for screaming."

He paused. "But that voice, your other voice . . . it was more terrifying than any scream I could hear."

"Get to the point," I said, both from wanting to run away from him and yet also wanting to hear what he was trying to tell me.

"It sounded like . . . it sounded like you had lost your soul," Kira finally said.

I froze. Completely, utterly froze. I had no way to respond to that.

"You had no trace of humanity at all. There was nothing but this eerie . . ."

Kira, paused and bit his lip.

"Kira, please," I finally said.

Kira's eyes looked right at me, in what seemed to be this combination of fear and sympathy. "Cagalli, I felt like I was talking to a monster."

I could only stare.