"And what is this, now? What in all the names of hell is somebody else doing out, this far from the Moon?" Frost gritted out, pressed back into his cockpit couch by a force that was exerting more than fifteen times his normal weight on his body. A normal human wouldn't be able to inflate their lungs under that much weight, it would be like trying to breathe with a horse sitting on your chest, and even for the BCPU 6 it was no picnic, each breath a brief flare of oh so delectable pain, a pain he used to channel his anger into the energy he used to not only draw his next breath, but to focus his thoughts on his plans for the future. His previous grand plan for resolving the Coordinator Issue was now a smoking ruin, along with the right arm of the Judgement, where his Positron cannon had used to be. And all thanks to the usual crowd of meddlers, those persistent bugs he had failed time and again to eliminate. He'd hurt them, he knew that, just from the hatred he received from them whenever they encountered each other. There were no enemies more at odds than him and those damn Archangel bastards, especially Pink. But he just couldn't finish them, no matter how many times they crossed paths. It was enough to make a guy think that perhaps he wasn't supposed to kill them, though that was a ludicrous thought, that their destiny could somehow be more important than his.
It was getting to the point where he was seriously planning not how he'd kill them, but how he would adapt their presence into his strategies so he could accomplish his goals even with their interference... and the fact that he was doing that was enraging him to no end. Drool cracked and flaked in icy streamers from his lips, knocked free of his face by the trembling effort of drawing each hissing breath through the grimace of fury that his face was locked into. "More to the point, what is someone else doing out here, moving on a converging course and speed with me that no mere human should be able to withstand? Not even another BCPU, even Cray if he were still alive, could handle this stress..." Frost murmured.
He took another look at his scopes and adjusted a few secondary screens as well, the normally quick movements a serious, multisecond undertaking at 15G's. He and the unknown enemy... everything that wasn't him was an enemy now... were moving on a converging course that would end with them moving in parallel within the next four minutes. One minute after that convergance, the unmanned supply shuttle containing his spare munitions and the Fury would also reach convergance and a parallel course. Roughly four minutes after that, assuming he didn't deccelerate or change his course... something he had little intention of doing... the Judgement would "converge" with the Moon. Likely in a rather spectacular fashion that not even he thought he had a chance in hell of surviving. Which was why he'd altered the Fury's course to meet up with his own, so that he could transfer to his more familiar machine, after setting the Judgement's systems to guide its course to Copernicus City, where it would doubtlessly do an admirable job of heralding his arrival... either with the initial impact or when the Judgement's self destruct system annihilated whatever was left in a several kilometer radius.
But now even that simple a plan was getting complicated, with this enemy that would be well within combat range with plenty of time to spare before Frost could transfer to the Fury. And he would be at an extreme disadvantage, trying to fight with the Judgement while fighting to move fifteen times his own weight every time he moved even a finger. It was certainly going to be an interesting challenge... he smiled when he realized he was already anticipating that there would be a fight with this unknown foe. For all he knew, the enemy would kill themselves off trying to match velocity with him, but somehow he doubted that his luck ran that way... if things were going to be that easy, he wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place. He flicked his eyes... one of a very few movements which wasn't a strain... over another bank of instruments. His ammunition levels were running dangerously low... not more than a few hundred gatling cannon rounds for the entire system, and less for the CIWS. Missiles were flat out, though he still had plenty of power for the left arm Gottfried's Maul system. One more reason he'd be glad to get back into the Fury... his swords and knives didn't get low on ammo.
The time ticked by with almost unbearable sloth, with nothing for him to do but wait and think. He wasn't as fidgety as Cray was, but neither was he meditative like Ashino could be... senseless waiting really got on his nerves after only a few minutes, and he'd been waiting for almost eight hours now. He was always ready to kill someone in a bloody fashion, but it would be no exaggeration to say he was feeling several degrees more murderous than usual, if for no other reason than to break up the monotony. That thought train triggered another, and he found himself smiling. Maybe this was divine providence, or fate, or destiny or whatever... suddenly being provided with a target to vent his frustrations on after hours of inactivity. Never one to stay depressed with the unfairness of his life for long, within a minute Frost was eagerly anticipating the confrontation with the unknown enemy, even though it was a disruption to his plans. A minute after that he was furious again, because it was taking SO DAMN LONG!
Finally the time of convergance drew near, and he toggled to his short range sensors to get a first look at his chew toy... or foe, whichever appellation proved more appropriate. "And just what the hell..." Frost snorted. "...is THAT supposed to be?" he asked the empty cockpit. "Is it a noodle or a mobile suit? I may not be much of one for mechanical engineering or self defense, but even I would put armor over structural frames. What, is this scarecrow supposed to be the scary new ZAFT Gundam?" Frost snorted derisively again. "Stiff breeze ought to be enough to knock that metal corpse over." He narrowed his eyes and studied the enemy machine much more closely. "That means it's got a lot of tricky things built into it, because theres no way it should be able to move that fast otherwise. Let's see what the other sensors can pick up, hmm?" Frost adjusted his screens a few more times, his eyes narrowing further upon reading each new data display.
"Blasted thing is putting out more heat than the entire Judgement, even under full blast. What the hell's IN that thing, a star? And... hmm... nice weapon choice. I approve wholeheartedly." Frost paused, admiring the massive double edged anti-ship sword, as well as what looked like weaponized chains in each forearm and especially the extendable claws on each finger. The bowgun slung on its back was an interesting idea as well, very fitting for someone who fought with a combat ideology close to Frost's own. "This should be very entertaining indeed." Frost smiled. The smile faded slightly after a further thought... "Though it would be much better if I was in the Fury." Frost sighed. "Guess I just have to make do, such a bother." A sudden inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt and his fingers jerked over to his little used comm system.
"Unidentified approaching mobile suit, I see you. This is Zacharis Frost, in the Judgement. I won't question your suicidal nature, though I must say I approve of it. I hadn't thought I'd get much in the way of excitement until those insufferble spoilsports chasing me finally caught up, but from the looks of you, I was pleasantly mistaken, for once. I do hope you aren't all just looks though... I'd be terribly disappointed if you don't keep me entertained for at least a few minutes. Course, you're going to be dead either way, I suppose..." Frost said cheerily over the open comm.
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"Unidentified approaching mobile suit, I see you. This is Zacharis Frost, in the Judgement. I won't question your suicidal nature, though I must say I approve of it. I hadn't thought I'd get much in the way of excitement until those insufferble spoilsports chasing me finally caught up, but from the looks of you, I was pleasantly mistaken, for once. I do hope you aren't all just looks though... I'd be terribly disappointed if you don't keep me entertained for at least a few minutes. Course, you're going to be dead either way, I suppose..."
Jeremiah didn't quite know what to make of the enemy pilot opening communications with him, with less than a minute to go before their paths converged and they broke into combat, but he did know one thing... the other guy scared him. Just from the sound of the other guy's voice, Jeremiah was able to get some sense of just what a head case he was soon to be confronting. He'd heard stories, and read reports and even confidential psychiatric summaries of therapy sessions many ZAFT soldiers had undergone after being personal witnesses to the atrocities committed by the Merciless at Carpentaria... and had scoffed at them, disbelieving even with the pictures and video files as proof. He wasn't scoffing now, there was no room to disbelieve that chill, dead and utterly malicious voice coming at him over the comm. All the videos and pictures came flashing back into his mind all of a sudden... the mobile suit painted in gore, the balls of crushed people being tossed about, the laughter that had haunted the dreams of dozens... all of it took on a startling realism that he'd previously denied and he shivered, quivering the GRS gel around him. His opponent was evil, evil in a way that horror movie villians were evil, but more so because this wasn't a movie.
To take his mind off these uncomfortable thoughts, he reviewed again the sensor reports he was getting from the Pulsar's examination of the onrushing enemy superweapon, the so called "Judgement". He was appalled at the arsenal it had once toted, barely able to comprehend the damage it must have inflicted on the PLANTS and ZMHQ, before being confronted by the rebels of the Clyne Faction. Even now, in a reduced and damaged state, it had more firepower than a Nazca class. It's current primary weapon system looked to be an array of six 75cm high energy beam cannons that took up its entire lower left arm, while the wreckage of a massive positron cannon weighted down the right arm. Dual 120mm gatling cannon turrets swiveled on all four limbs, and he knew that if even a few shells slipped by his defenses he would be done for, as even small fractures in the Pulsar's frame would spell his doom under high speed maneuvers, not even mentioning the fact that his armor would be little protection against the high explosive bullets. Empty missile ports gaped like disease sores over much of the Judgement's body, and frayed tethers trailed behind it like forlorn kite strings, where wire guided "gun barrel" pods had once been controlled. Mounts for strategic level missile systems projected jaggedly from the shoulders of the Judgement, thankfully empty now, their payloads destroyed fruitlessly.
Nothing I can't handle. Just like a Agamemnon class, except humanoid and controlled by a freak of nature. I still have the advantage here... his weapons can't get through my Positron shields, unlike whatever that laser weapon at Galileo can. And that monstrous hunk of parts is going to be as clumsy as a drunk man, if not more so... I'll be able to fly rings around him. And he doesn't have a GRS... if he tries to stop suddenly or maneuver in any but the most basic fashion, his seat restraints will probably cut him into pieces, shortly before he liquifies on his control surfaces. He talks a good piece, but he hasn't any ground to stand on, in more than a literal sense. Jeremiah's thoughts were rapid but calming all the same, as he reminded himself of his considerable advantages and his foes shortcomings. So what, he wasn't in a hundred meter tall death machine... he didn't need to be. He was in the Pulsar, for God's sake... there was no safer place to be in all of space. A sudden spasm of pain curled him up violently, and fresh blood squirted unnoticed from his nostrils, ears and tear ducts. Gotta finish this up fast... somethings wrong with the system... I'm well synchornized... shit shouldn't be happen'n like this...
Suddenly, the time of convergance was on him, the Judgement swelling from the size of a pin head to life size in less than two seconds as the Pulsar matched courses and speeds with the hurtling superweapon, maintaining about seven hundred meters of distance between them. Up close, Jeremiah could see the wear and tear the Judgement's armor had received, and his sensors identified several weak spots that he could quickly exploit, especially on the left side of the torso. Still, even though he knew what to expect, the sheer scale of the Alliance machine gave him pause for a second, as he stared at the grotesque weapon that had caused so much death in such a short amount of time. That second was almost too long, as the enemy wasted no time on further verbal taunting, instead swinging its left arm around and firing all six Gottfried high energy beam cannons at the Pulsar. Jeremiah beat the Pulsar to the draw this time, snapping up his right arm and activating the Positron shield on his own, feeling only a slight quiver as the field of constrained anti-matter dissipated the onrushing energy torrent in a bright flash of light.
"Impressive..." Frost seemed to drag the word on for several times as long as it should have lasted. "I knew you were going to be a tricky bastard the moment I laid eyes on you. I was right... this is going to be fun."
"Not nearly as much for you as it will be for me, asshole." Jeremiah couldn't help but reply. There was something just too... frightnening... about letting Frost get the last word in. He couldn't let the guy get the upper hand, even in the pyschological battle. Maybe especially in the pyschological battle, since that was one area where Jeremiah didn't have overwhelming advantages.
"Oooh, delicious repartee... I'm shaking in my boots over here, you can be assured." Frost was quick to reply, even as his gatling cannons focused their fire, attempting to batter their way through the Positron shield, to zero effect... the shells disintegrated as soon as they hit the reddish field and they didn't diminish the strength of the field at all, in the face of the power the FPR was putting into it. "Though you certainly do talk tough for someone who just hides behind a shield. Typical of you Coordinators, I suppose. Always with your tech devices and whatnot... though it didn't much help them at November 8, did it? Quite a sad place, now... I was able to make an enjoyable mess of the place before I left, though not nearly to the extent I originally planned."
"Monster... your bloody path ends here, I swear it. I, Jeremiah Borander, in the Pulsar, will put an end to you here and now!" Jeremiah spat. He wasn't prepared for the response he got, he'd expected curses or even an attack... what he got was unrestrained amusement, a cackling laughter that set his teeth on edge and sent gibbers of instinctual fear running through his brain. "What!? What, damn it!? Why are you laughing!?"
Frost managed to choke out a reply through his hellacious giggling. "I do swear... irony... is such... a jest! This is... just too... rich to bear!" Frost didn't let his laughter get in the way of his better instincts though, as he tried to blast the Pulsar with another volley from the Gottfried's Maul, an attack that was once again thwarted by the seemingly impenetrable disc shaped field of reddish energy projecting from the Pulsar's upraised palm. Frost dearly wanted to know what was up with that, it was most annoying to be able to see a target but not be able to hit it. "I suppose... I should call you... "Uncle" then? Or perhaps "Cousin"?" Frost broke down in another spate of giggles.
"What the hell are you babbling about!?" Jeremiah demanded, confused and more than a little unnerved at the continued laughter he was hearing from the other guy. Was he insane or something? But who would let a crazy person pilot a mobile suit, much less something like the Judgement?
"My, my... you really aren't aware of what your family is up to, are you? Perhaps you are familiar with a man named Franklin Borander? Doctor Franklin Borander... Doc to me and my ilk, of course." Frost replied, still swallowing chuckles. He eyed his timers... the Fury was less than forty five seconds away.
"How do you know my oldest brother? He was exiled to... Earth..." Jeremiah trailed off.
"Indeed he was... and there he found plenty of subjects to practice his rather... unique... hobbies on. One of which was me." Frost answered. "I suppose you could call me his son, even though there is no blood relation. I am his greatest creation... the most perverse and monstrous being he was able to create using methods you cannot even conceive of, my good Uncle."
"So Frank is still alive...and working for the enemy. Just when I thought there was no place lower for him to go..." Jeremiah swore foully.
"Well, now there isn't. You see, he's dead now. Has been for a while... ever since I crushed the life from him with my own two arms, after I tortured him to the brink of death in order to gain information on my destiny from him. He's currently cooking in the hottest fires of hell... keeping them burning for when I get to join him." Frost said wistfully. It was the tone of voice that did it... the casual talk of torture and murder, combined with the tangible desire for more of the same, that pushed Jeremiah over the edge. A little bit was also that it was his own elder brother that was the subject, even though Jeremiah deplored Frank for his detestable hobbies and practices.
"No more! This ends NOW!" Jeremiah disengaged the Positron shield and swung his zweihander off his shoulders, his thrusters juddered as he forced an abrupt course change on them as he darted towards the Judgement with the speed of thought. In an eyeblink he was on the other side of the Judgement, which was now missing it's left arm from the shoulder down, with a deep gash carved in the right torso armor as well. Chattering 120mm shells briefly tried to follow the Pulsar, but the ZAFT Gundam moved far faster than the auto-tracking systems could follow and they quickly used up the last of their ammunition anyway, falling silent as the Pulsar reversed thrust and came back for another go without changing speed, a neat trick that had Frost raising both eyebrows in jealousy. Twenty seconds to convergance with the Fury.
Frost snarled at the fresh pain ripping through his body as he whipped the Judgement's right arm up into the path of the Pulsar, only to lose it from the wrist down as the Pulsar altered course ninety degrees to avoid it, slashing it apart with its sword at the same time. "No fair... turning like that should be impossible." Frost complained. Fifteen seconds to convergance.
"It is impossible... for you stupid Natural scum!" Jeremiah retorted, reversing course again, ignoring the ache spreading through his body from all the strain on his physical form. This was what the Pulsar was designed for... he wouldn't allow himself to be the weak link, not now, not here, not against this foe.
"Here's a news flash for you, dear Uncle... I'm not a Natural. Not anymore." Frost grunted, spraying ineffectual CIWS fire as the Pulsar flickered by, a blur even to his vision. A change in balance announced the loss of a leg from the mid thigh down. "You don't fuck around, do you, Uncle? Not going to take you long to tear me apart, not with that sword and that speed." Ten seconds left.
"Not quickly enough!" Jeremiah sliced off the other leg, and halted, floating next to the cockpit area of the Judgement as its CIWS guns spun dry. Legless, with only one arm and no weapons remaining, the Judgement was little more than a slab of metal waiting to be scrapped. Jeremiah scanned the Judgement more deeply, and quickly determined the exact location of the cockpit. He placed the tip of the sword directly over that location, pushing firmly through the geischmedig-panzer shield effect covering the location. Jeremiah saw the Judgement's right arm start to move out of the corner of his eye and felt the Pulsar start to move, but he forced it to stay in place with an effort of will. Moving now would force him to come back around to finish the enemy off and that was just unacceptable to the enraged Jeremiah. "Good riddan..."
Jeremiah's pronouncement was ruined by another unbearable spasm of pain. His entire body felt like it had suddenly caught fire and this time the pain did not subside quickly. It took him a precious few seconds to realize that the pain was caused by his battle of wills, or whatever it was, with the Pulsar's action memory. And by the time he realized it, it was too late for even the Pulsar to take evasive action, as the severed stump of the Judgement's right arm swung around sharply and smashed the Pulsar away like a man swatting a bee out of midair. The blow was solid, the impact incredible and well transmitted through the semi-liquid gel... Jeremiah felt like he'd been struck by a sledgehammer on the entirety of his body at once... if it weren't for the fact that the gel was also inside his body he would have been pulped by the impact, instead of stunned. Armor shards scattered like chaff and the Pulsar was knocked spinning away from the Judgement like a rag doll, its thrusters flaring wildly as they responded to the numbed thoughts bouncing around inside Jeremiah's disoriented head.
The pain remained constant, and in fact grew stronger, as Jeremiah unconsciously contended with the NIC system's action memory as both he and the automatic systems of the Pulsar fought to regain control of the mobile suit. Jeremiah wanted to turn around and attack the Judgement again, the Pulsar wanted to slow down and assess possible structural damage. He was no longer synchornized with his machine, in fact they were now pushing opposite goals. And the Pulsar's nervous system operated at 450 volts and more than fifty amps, while Jeremiah's was less than a volt and much less than a milliamp in comparison. Electricity follows the path of least resistance when it is able to, much like water... and the Pulsar's action memory was the stronger of the resistances, so in turn it was Jeremiah's nervous system that went into overload. The Coordinator Ace-Commander quite literally had his brain and central nervous system fried to a crisp while he was still alive... part of him caught fire from the inside, at least until the nerves charred out and stopped conducting the current.
This was the NIC flaw that Noah had discovered and kept quiet about... that the action memory of the NIC was able to overload the actions of the pilot, even to the extent of causing physical harm and death to the pilot, if ever they became unsynchornized with the action memory for any given situation. The Pulsar was a machine... it couldn't see the reasons for taking a different course of action depending on the circumstances... it saw an attack so it evaded as it "remembered" to do, even if not evading was a better course of action at that specific time. So unless the pilot always responded the same way to a stimulus, there was the potential to become unsynchornized with the NIC, with varyingly severe results. Prolonged NIC usage was therefore extremely dangerous... but Noah remained the only person aware of the flaw... it did tend to creep up on you if you weren't looking for it, as Jeremiah had just discovered, belatedly.
Freed from the interference of the biological control unit, the Pulsar decelerated and came to a halt in space, several thousand kilometers above the lunar surface and the Galileo LFB. With no further input from the biological control unit, it could take no action, especially since there was no outside stimulus to provoke its action memory... having decelerated, the Pulsar was almost instantly left far behind the hurtling Judgement, which had just converged with the Fury at about the time the Pulsar stopped moving. Frost was displeased at the way events turned out, but he didn't have the time or ability to do anything about it. He couldn't even hit Copernicus City anymore, due to his inability to adequately change the Judgement's course with the loss of the leg mounted maneuvering thrusters. He still set the Citadel array and other systems to self destruct mode... the Judgement would make its burial site known, no matter where it landed, that was for sure... and rapidly EVA'ed over to the Fury, to begin a controlled deceleration to a more usual speed with a good two minutes to spare.
The advent of the Judgement falling from the heavens like a meteor did a lot to change the course of the battle at Galileo LFB. Having four fifths of the base suddenly reduced to a radioactive crater almost a kilometer deep might have had something to do with that. Roughly a thousand tons of Phase Shift armored metal moving at more than 20 kilometers per second, containing three high powered nuclear reactors, not to mention the thermonuclear self destruct devices... all four of them... plus the overloading of the Citadel Lightwave Barrier system... the shockwave was felt on the entire dark side of the moon, and the flash of light was visible on the light side. The dust cloud would be visible on Earth for weeks as it slowly spread around three quarters of the lunar surface. The ZAFT raiding force was almost instantly annihilated, along with all the Alliance forces engaged with them, except for those deep within the base, attacking Shinn's Elemental. It was a terrible blow indeed to the Alliance... but not mortal.
Over ninety percent of the prototype weapon systems... the Moebius Flares, Cataphracts, Cavaliers and FRALA teams survived the impact, along with Eric Kellson and Cyprus Finch, though neither man would directly influence the remainder of the battles on the Moon, due to injuries sustained in the fight or from the explosion. Still, the sudden inexplicable loss of even a small force was enough to cause the otherwise firm ZAFT morale to ebb slightly, and in the high echelons of command even more so, because the fantastically expensive and wholly irreplacable Pulsar was also missing. It didn't take long for the rest of the ZAFT force to notice that their Gundam was gone, and the Alliance forces soon realized it as well. The appearance of the prototype weapon systems on the light side battlefields wholly changed the tide of the campaign. Though relatively few in number, the influx of new and different strategies and capabilities proved to be a catalyst for a sudden resurgence in Alliance morale and subsequent fighting ability. At the end of the day, when both sides had finally called a retreat and gone back to lick their wounds and try and figure out what their next step should be, casualties on both sides were high... the Alliance had suffered the most early on, and ZAFT more later on.
In the end, Alliance casualties ran to about thirty percent in terms of manpower and close to sixty five percent in terms of material... terrible losses, but still well within the capabilities of the Alliance to replace, given time. And time they would have, for ZAFT had taken almost twenty percent losses in manpower and slightly more than fifty percent losses in terms of material... material it would take them four or five times longer to replace than the Alliance and people they wouldn't be able to replace for generations. The second invasion of the Moon was a catastrophe for ZAFT, even if they had inflicted more damage than they suffered... it just didn't matter when you compared the capacities for recovery of the two conflicted powers. An uneasy calm settled over both sides as ZAFT scrambled to come up with a new plan, any plan, that would help stave off the Alliance now that their masterstroke had collapsed in failure... while the Isolationist Alliance was wasting no time in furthering Sai's meticulous plans. Neither side had much time to worry about what the minor players were up to... Frost was quickly forgotten about by most people, once the Judgement was confirmed to be destroyed, and so too for the members of the Clyne Faction, who had arrived too late to affect any outcome on the Moon... much to some people's relief. That is not to say though, that nothing further of note happened between the end of the lunar battles and the next action of the greater war... far from it in fact.
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"So, you're sure its abandoned?" Dearka asked for perhaps the tenth time. Ysak rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth a bit at his friends incessant worrying. They were currently out in a pair of M-4 Guardians, dragging the odd looking mobile suit the Archangel and Kusanagi had stumbled across on their way to the Moon back to the Archangel. Initially they had thought it was some sort of trap, laid by ZAFT, since the mobile suit was umistakably a Coordinator design, at least to Athrun, Dearka and Ysak's experienced eyes... but the mobile suit had just drifted there for more than fifteen minutes, and there wasn't anything else within ten thousand kilometers other than the Moon itself. Probing with vari-camera systems revealed no Mirage Colloid cloaked ambushers in a hundred kilometer sphere, and a mental scan from both Katie and Lacus had revealed no life forms aboard the mobile suit itself. It was possible that the pilot was one of those rare sorts... like Asmodeus or Ashino... who was invisible for whatever reason to Newtype powers, but it was very unlikely.
And so, Dearka and Ysak had gone out in the Guardians to salvage the mobile suit, while Kira and Athrun flew cover nearby, even though there were no enemies. No one minded... there was something very unsettling about this whole situation. The feeling only intensified as they neared the slowly drifting machine, which was fully operational, if slightly battleworn, with cracked armor on its torso but no major damage visible. The spike like protrusions on the backs of its limbs continued to radiate a incredible amount of heat, but the machine remained limp, even after Dearka and Ysak tenatively grabbed its arms. What they of course couldn't know was that the Pulsar had no action memories related to being grabbed by M-4 Guardians, since Jeremiah had never encountered them, so it did not respond to their non hostile presence. Despite being wholly spooked, the two Coordinators had no trouble whatsoever in returning the Pulsar to the Archangel.
By the time they had returned the Guardians to the Kusanagi and ferryed back over to the Archangel, everyone who had a free moment, or could figure out a way to make one, was there, crowding around the feet of the strange looking mobile suit. Even Captain Ramius and Commander Waltfeld were there, though both kept their comm-links handy in case of an alert from the bridge crews. There had been a brief commotion earlier, when the Pulsar, once fitted into a maintenance cradle, had powered down on its own due to action memory, but further and intensive scanning by Lacus and Katie had revealed no living presence inside the machine, so people had calmed down again. Still, people were tense, and Alkire, Raine and Victor all had weapons close to hand as Chief Murdoch screwed up the courage to manually override the cockpit controls and opened the armored hatch of the cockpit. The scene revealed inside would stay with Murdoch in his nightmares for the rest of his life. "WAAAGHH! WHATTHEHOLYFUCKSHITDAMN!" Murdoch windmilled his arms as he propelled himself away from the horror inside the Pulsar's cockpit.
Not being connected to all the specialty systems available on board the Charles Darwin, the Pulsar hadn't been able to completely shut it self down without input from the biological control unit... who was unresponsive. So it had turned off the FPR, powered down the weapons, cycled the cooling fluid and pumped as much of the used GRS gel through the filters as it could, but there were a lot of contaminants it was unable to remove, resulting in about 20 percent of the gel remaning in the cockpit region, where it could be easily if unpleasantly shoveled or vaccumed out by maintenance crews. Also, it could not withdraw the NIC interface wires fully from the biological control unit without either aid from a maintenance console or a thought-command from the control unit, which had not been forthcoming. This was a safety feature to prevent inadvertant loss of control at inoppertune times.
What all this amounted to, and which was responsible for Chief Murdoch's reaction, was the charred but still somewhat recognizable corpse of Jeremiah Borander, scores of silvery blood sheened wires protruding from his body and skull, dangling limply in a pool of pinkish sludge full of blood, blackened flesh-ash and offal. The stench was incredible, and the tortured expression on Jeremiah's face hideous in its plain agony, with his limbs contorted and broken in his death spasms, his spine bent nearly in two. Even the battle hardened Alkire or Ysak, playing the tough guys, couldn't look at the remains for long without feeling slightly ill. For some, it was a lot more than slightly ill. Kira and Athrun both puked, Miriallia fainted for a little while and both Lacus and Katie had to sit down pretty suddenly. Derka didn't quite puke, but that was mainly because he hadn't had much to eat during the pursuit, not being very hungry after failing to defeat Frost when they had the chance yet again.
"That is so not what I wanted to see." Dearka managed after a few seconds of gagging. "What the fuck?"
"My sentiments exactly!?" Katie said fervently. "He looks like he caught fire from the inside. What the hell could cause that?"
"I haven't the slightest idea." Waltfeld replied absentmindedly, as he studied the tableu, after steeling himself with several quick gasps of air and a hand over his nose and mouth. "Are those wires really coming out of his body?" Nobody moved for a while, all eyes fixed on the abbatoir in the cockpit of the captured machine. At length Alkire sighed and handed his gun off to Raine. He nodded to Victor, who likewise handed his gun to Raine and the two of them then pushed off and floated up to the cockpit.
"Bear in mind I'm no mobile suit expert..." Alkire harrumphed expectantly, but got no response. "...but this cockpit looks different from the ones I'm used to seeing."
"There is no pilot's chair. No control systems I can see... no keyboard or joystick or foot pedals. Nothing. No displays either, except for what looks like a small comm screen. It's also very small... barely big enough to stand in, and you cannot stretch out your arms inside." Victor reported, having stuck his head inside for a better look, nose crinkling at the stench of a battlefield and a fresh corpse. He tenatively reached down and fingered some of the fouled gel, wincing as some flesh bits stuck to his gloves and smeared. "The gel is still warm... he probably died sometime earlier today, maybe within the past few hours. That would also explain the stench and relative lack of rigor mortis. I cannot be certain... I'm no doctor... but his burns look to be electrical in nature. And yes, the wires are coming directly out of his flesh."
"No chair, no controls, no displays? How the hell did he pilot the damn thing then?" Ysak muttered in confusion.
"What kind of mobile suit is this anyway? It's a ZAFT design, you can tell by the look of the head, but this doesn't look like anything I'm familiar with... its not an Elemental of any sort." Athrun commented. "Did ZAFT build a new Gundam? Strange looking thing."
"Well, whatever it is, its ours now." Murrue decided. "I want a medical team down here on the double to remove that corpse and perform an autopsy on him. I want to know how he died and when, if possible. I'd also like to figure out just who the hell he is, he looks slightly familiar." She turned to look at Kira and Athrun as she gave out her orders. "Dr. Simmons isn't here right now, so I want you and Athrun to get with Chief Murdoch and learn what you can about the technical capabilities of this thing, Kira. Lacus, if you would, could you try and contact some of the Clyne Faction intelligence network and see if they have any information on either this machine or its pilot, once we figure out who he is. I want this done fast but right... we're still on approach to the Moon and though fighting has died down considerably, thats no reason to slack off... Frost is still out there somewhere."
What do you want me and mine to do, Captain, ma'am?" Alkire called down, from where he was clambering around the outside of the mobile suit, looking for identifying numerals or designs. There was nothing, not even a ZAFT emblem... just grey-white armor, plain and undetailed. Alkire had heard of military frugality... but there were limits... at least put some camo-paint on the thing.
"You come to the bridge, we're having another command meeting. The Moon battles seem to have come to a draw, which equates to a victory for the Alliance. Still, both sides have hurt each other severely... we need to discuss our new strategic course."
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"When I sent you up to the Moon, I think I remember expressly reminding you not to endanger yourself, because I cannot risk losing my military advisor. I did say that, right?" Sai started talking the moment Cyprus opened the door to the presidential office and walked in. The only other person in the room was Ashino, sitting unobtrusively off in a corner of the room of the bunker-office deep below the streets of New New York City. Sai was sitting behind the large desk made from white veined black marble, signing documents with one hand while reading through reports on a vid-screen built into the top of the desk with the rest of his attention. Multitasking was the only possible way to deal with the workload of being a National... no, a World... leader.
"Even I cannot help it if they choose to drop a meteor onto my head." Cyprus replied easily, with no hint of apology as he adjusted the sling for his broken collarbone, feeling the twinge of pain from his four broken ribs and cracked femur. He also wore a neck brace, several bandages around his concussed head and sported more than seventy stitches on various locations of his body. But he was up, and moving under his own power, and able to think and speak freely, so he had shown up to give his report. "Or a half destroyed superweapon, though at 20 Km/sec it hardly matters what it was, does it, merely that it weighed close to a thousand tons and had four thermonuclear bombs inside it."
Sai stopped signing papers for a moment to rub the bridge of his nose and glance at his friend. He shook his head one more time in exasperation and then broke out in a slight grin. "It's good to see you back, alive and... alive. Vanai will be pleased. We were all worried about you. Even..."
"I was not." Ashino piped up.
"Even Ashino mentioned some concern, after we heard what happened to Galileo." Sai finished anyway. "Though you should have seen Glory's reaction... I thought he was going to commandeer a shuttle to the Moon and search for you himself, for a while."
Cyprus gave a slight smile of his own. "Thomas does have a habit of overreacting, especially when we're on seperate battlefields." the smile faded and he returned to business. "I have the reports ready, sir."
"Speak then, and I'll do my best to listen, and Ashino will memorize what you say anyway and then end up knowing it better than both of us."
"Yes, sir. First, a summary of the battle. The enemy attacked in a series of four waves, the first being comprised of their older but still proven mobile suits. This first wave engaged our outer defence forces and drew them into a pitched battle. Their second wave arrived in a blitzkreig type maneuver, consisting of many elite teams in their newest and best mobile suits, the Elementals, which I have a much more complete technical document to give you for as well. The second wave bypassed the first wave's battle and plunged directly into our main Fleet elements, causing heavy losses. After we conducted a withdrawal to the lunar surface, the ZAFT third and fourth waves, along with reinforcements from the first and second waves, landed their infantry and occupation forces and proceeded to attack our three light side LFB's. A small raiding party was sent to invest the Galileo LFB on the dark side of the moon as well, in order to tie up any possible reinforcements from that quarter." Cyprus replied.
"Fighting was mostly close range and intense from that point on, with ZAFT infantry regiments penetrating the outer defense lines of two LFB's before being confronted and halted by our own infantry strengths, who were fought to a standstill despite three to one odds of numerical superiority. I had culled a group of the more accomplished and experienced pilots from those who had survived the battle against the first and second ZAFT waves and had them sent to Galileo, per your suggestion sir, that the new machines would do best in a limited quantity with more skilled pilots operating them, even if the pilots were not fully familiar with all the machines. The raid on Galileo was disruptive, but still well within the contingency plans I had drawn up... until the enemy unleashed their "cannon", to use a term we discussed, upon us." Cyprus continued, standing comfortably at parade rest, even with all his injuries.
"As in their special weapon that would break the new tactics we've been instituting. So they do have one... damn." Sai muttered.
"Yes, sir. Here, look at this vid file. It's the most clear look we have at the enemy Gundam." Cyprus handed over a data chip. "It was taken by one Captain Eric Kellson, of the 72nd Autonomous Corp. I'm not normally much of one for talking up people from other branches of the service, but I personally feel that Captain Kellson is deserving of special commendation. He shot down or disabled more than ten ZAFT mobile suits during the initial engagment, and also played a strong role in defending the rear echelon areas of Galileo LFB from infiltrating ZAFT raiders, not to mention being the only Alliance pilot to confront the enemy Gundam on two seperate occasions and live to tell the tale. Captain Kellson has had experience fighting Gundams before, in Panama, where he confronted and delayed Ysak Jule and Cagalli Yula Attha for several minutes, giving valuable time for Alliance reinforcements to show up. His heroism and skill are a good example for all our soldiers to look up to."
"Well, if he's good enough to get praise from you, I should probably have a golden statue of him raised somewhere." Sai joked, taking the data chip and putting it into his vid reader. Ashino looked up from his own laptop to watch the short video. There wasn't much to see, besides the skeletal looking mobile suit waving its sword in a salute and then disappearing. Still, Ashino noted several things that made him uneasy... mainly the ease and fluidity with which the Gundam moved its arms and weapon. Piloting skill could do a lot, but there were still limits to what ranges of motion a joystick could translate... and Ashino saw those limits being broken by this Gundam. And then there was how the machine just disappeared at the end of the video. Ashino was more than familiar with the Mirage Colloid system... and the enemy displayed none of the tell tale fading from sight of the particle based cloaking system.
"Experts agree that the Gundam does not deploy any sort of stealth field at the end of the clip. There would be tell tale signs, not least of which would be a slow fading or mist like effect, none of which is apparent. Instead, please watch the last second of the vid again... this time it's set at 1/32 speed." Cyprus told them. Sai saw a flash of light and blinked. Ashino did not blink and managed to catch the brief flare of thrusters igniting and propelling the Gundam up and away, out of the field of vision of the camera. But to move a mobile suit so far so fast... "Our best estimate is that the pilot pulled around 70G with that little stunt. Even if the maneuver lasted for less than a second, which it didn't, a human would be nothing but mush inside any cockpit system we can design. Instead, the Gundam proceeded to wreak havoc amongst our Fleets, displaying combat ability equal to if not greater than that displayed by such notables as Kira Yamato, Rau Le Creusete and Athrun Zala. Best estimate is that 5 percent of all Alliance personnel casualties were due to the presence of this single mobile suit, and close to twelve percent of the material casualties as well."
"One suit did all that?" Sai said, stunned. He'd watched Kira do similar things, but he'd never dreamed someone else would be able to do it. Kira was supposed to be unique, damn it. An Ultimate Coordinator that couldn't be equalled or surpassed. Now it appeared that that might not be the case. And Kira limited himself with his reluctance to kill... this enemy had no such compunctions. "Wait a minute... 70G's?"
"That is correct. I don't know what that Gundam is, but its got some seriously special abilities. Its weapons appear to be entirely melee based, for reasons unknown, but all sources agree that it features impossible levels of maneuverability, speed and agility. Various reports, still unconfirmed by reliable sources, indicate a defensive mechanism proof against any weapon system less powerful than a FRALA. All reports do agree though... this is the same machine that destroyed the 12th lunar fleet during the battle at Carpentaria." Cyprus said neutrally.
"Hmmph. Well isn't that just peachy." Sai allowed himself a moment to grouse. "How did our own new weapons perform?"
"All sources agree that our protoype weapons were the reason the battle went as well for us as it did. The Citadel Shields are very popular, especially. The Moebius Flares have proven to be effective against anything from a Guaize on down, though the new Elementals still give them some problems. The Cataphracts tactics system worked brilliantly, even against the ZAFT Gundam. Their performace was perhaps the most spectacular of the battle, when the four Cataphracts confronted and rebuffed the ZAFT Gundam, which our troops call "the Reaper". And the FRALA teams definitely proved their worth, despite the bugs still being worked out of their weaponry. One report I have says that a single FRALA shot can be credited with destroying three Nazca class destroyers and two GINNs, which I would ordinarily find hard to credit... if I hadn't seen what they could do on the test range."
Sai craned his head around and looked at Ashino, who had gone back to studying his laptop... a deceptive gesture that meant Ashino was thinking hard about something and using the laptop as a barrier to being talked to. Sai chose to ignore the habit for the moment. "Ashino, please give me the figures on the new production runs and training reports again." Ashino's shoulders twitched slightly at the unexpected interruption... Sai was generally most courteous in dealing with Ashino's withdrawn nature... this was but one of a handful of times that Sai had pressured him when he was thinking about something else. And his mind was currently scattered to the four winds, and all because of a single name. Kellson. Eric Kellson, of the 72nd AC. The bigger brother of one Jean Kellson... a man Ashino had once sworn to save, because Jean had asked him to. Jean... a girl he had spent more than a few passing moments thinking about. He'd never managed to find out for sure what had happened to her, given how his last battle at Panama had ended.
"Ashino?" Sai prompted, causing the BCPU to jerk upright and nearly spill his laptop onto the ground. "You okay? You zoned out for a moment there." Ashino's face heated with embarassment... he couldn't believe he'd just tuned Sai out during an important brief to daydream about a girl. Even if the girl was Jean.
"Pardon me. I was doing some deep thinking." Ashino closed his eyes and gathered his photographic memory together. "We currently are producing Moebius Flares at the rate of ten per day. Cataphracts are being produced at the rate of three per day, while the Cavaliers and Dagger JA's are each being produced at the rate of ten per day. All new Dagger JA's and Cavaliers are being equipped with Citadel Shields as standard equipment. We currently have ten vehicle based FRALA units in addition to the five mobile suit units. The fourth Templar unit should be online in two days, with subsequent Templar's being produced every three days afterwards. The new Devilfish class submersible mobile armor has also recently finished prototype trials and will be beginning main line production within the next four days. We have three Archmage class mobile field bases, with the fourth and fifth still in the early stages of construction; they wont be ready for at least a week. All five of our new piloting academies are graduating classes every two weeks, the average class size is forty pilots, all of whom are qualified to operate any of the new mobile suits or mobile armors, except for the Templars, which require an additional month of schooling." Ashino recited the figures he'd memorized that morning without even a slight hesitation, even though he'd only seen them twice. The vagaries of a BCPU's memory... try as he might he couldn't remember his past, but raw data was easy.
"What about the Independance?" Sai asked, referring to the Gundam he had ordered built some time ago. It had just recently been finished, though it was still listed as a prototype, like all the GAT series machines were. Sai knew that Ashino had been heavily involved in the designing and testing of the Isolationist Gundam, but he'd deliberately kept his attention elsewhere so he could be pleasantly surprised at a time when he needed cheering up. Ashino actually smiled, which Sai took to be a good sign indeed.
"My Gundam, you mean? It is... well, it is very good. Very, very good. It is so nice to be a pilot able to finally give input to a design team that listens to what you have to say... I can't even express how frustrating it is to try and work with people that ask for your advice and then ignore you, but that is the opposite of what I experienced this time. I feel like I really had a hand in making the Independence what it is." Ashino replied happily.
"Well, don't keep me in suspense or anything, lets hear some details." Sai prompted, pleased that his friend was happy,
"I've heard a few things from Thomas, but he has a habit of garbling things he doesn't really understand, so I'd like to get a more accurate picture, if possible." Cyprus added.
"Okay... umm... let me think..." Ashino hedged for a moment, uncomfortable with the sudden spotlight, but glad of the opportunity to talk about a subject he was an expert in. "It's heavily based on the Bane, my old mobile suit, but much improved in all aspects. It's nearly as big as the Merciless, but not anywhere near as clumsy or slow. In keeping with my battle philosophy it favors ranged weapons that do best at medium to close range, and it also incorporates many abilities that dovetail well with your own suggestions for our battle tactics, Sai. For primary weapons the Independence carries a twin 120mm gatling cannon in the right hand, and has a 580mm hyper impulse cannon onthe center torso. Secondary weapons include two 200mm high energy beam cannons, like the old Calamity had, per shoulder and two missile 30 racks mounted in the elongated HiMat style wings. I'll most likely be using either Pilums or other special munitions for those missiles. Tertiary weapon systems include two 100mm linear cannons mounted on the shield, a beam glaive for melee, and a Mjolnir CIC (Charged Ion Cannon) with associated power leeching systems in each palm. Despite the quantity of weaponry, the primarly energy based structure of the armaments cut the weight considerably, allowing for extra maneuvering thrusters, giving the Independence the same agility as the original Bane."
"Bigger, faster, stronger... we should have had this months ago. I just cannot understand why Cervantes blinkered himself so. For all his faults, he was nothing short of a brilliant man, in his own way, and the state he left CWM's future technologies division... why?" Sai grumbled, clenching a fist in frustration. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths. "Well, no use crying over spilt milk now. We've taken steps in the right direction, and we will continue to do so, in the time bought for us by our forces valiant efforts on the Moon. Cyprus, I want a rough draft of your orders for the relocation of all Coordinators from the Earth... by force if need be... on my desk in three days. Assuming no glaring problems, which I don't expect..." Sai was cut off by a trill and quick series of flashing lights coming from his desk. He stabbed his finger down on a button. "I thought I specifically directed that all calls be held until my meeting was ov..."
"The First Lady has entered labor, Mr.President. You instructed me to inform you no matter what was going on at the time..." Corporal Ramierez, formerly of the Hellhounds and now one of the members of the new Presidential Guard, which served as security for both Sai and Vanai, said brusquely. "She's on her way to the Madison Gardens Medical Center right now. I should stress that everything is fine, there are doctors standing by and they tell me that everything is going perfectly normally... sir? Mr. President? Are you there? Sir?"
"You can tell him when he arrives, Ramierez." Ashino answered, staring wide eyed at the door that Sai had just sprinted out of. For a non-soldier, Sai sure could move given the proper stimulus. Ashino knew all about the biological processes of birth... but the emotional side still confused him greatly, as usual. He stood up and began to head out the door after Sai. Sai had been kind enough to invite him to the birthing, if Ashino wasn't too busy and he'd accepted, because of the opportunity for emotional observations it presented. Still, something caused him to pause in the doorway and look back at Cyprus Finch, who was collecting the various documents strewn over the desktop and organizing them into neat piles, which he then locked securely into the desk drawers. Ashino made no sounds nor gave any other indication that he was still in the room, but he wasn't totally surprised when Cyprus cleared his throat inquisitively.
"Something on your mind?" Cyprus asked, not deigning to look over at Ashino. "Something to do with Eric Kellson, I assume? You reacted to the name."
"I shouldn't be surprised that you noticed, though I thought I had better control of myself than that." Ashino replied. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should broach the subject with Cyprus, whom he understood even less than he understood Sai, despite the relatively kindred nature of their personalities. "It's... just that I've heard the name before."
"He is one of your mobile suit pilots..."
"No, not like that." Ashino sighed and decided to risk it. "Look, I'm not the best person at explaining how I feel or other emotional stuff like that, and I'm not sure you're the best person to talk to about it either, but you're currently on hand, and you might have information I'd like to know locked up in that codified brain of yours."
"I think you'll discover I'm an avid listener, and I might be able to offer you some insight as to how you are feeling, or should be feeling, about whatever it is you're going to ask me." Now that he was alone in the room with Ashino, Cyprus allowed himself to grimace ever so slightly and he leaned against the desk for support to take the weight off his injured leg. "Reticence does not equate to inexperience, after all."
"There's a girl..." Ashino began. Cyprus cocked an eyebrow and Ashino found himself feeling defensive, though why he wasn't sure. "Her name is Jean. I bumped into her in Panama just before Ysak Joule attempted to assassinate Asmodeus there and nearly paid for his folly with his life. It was just a chance encounter between two people, but I ended up saving her life and forming a bond with her. I've since lost contact with her, due to the destruction of the Bane and my involuntary swim across half the Pacific Ocean. I don't even know if she made it out of Panama alive, and I've been too busy recently to make a concentrated effort at finding her. To be honest, I've no idea how to look for her, no idea where to start from... until you mentioned..."
"Captain Eric Kellson, age 22. Has a father, James Lloyd Kellson and a mother Madeline Fae Kellson, ages 47 and 46 respectively. Also has one younger sister..." Cyprus let his gaze meet Ashino's. "... Jean Rebecca Kellson, age 17. Their family home is in upstate New York, about two hours drive or thirty minutes helicopter flight from here. Captain Kellson is currently home on convalescant leave, due to injuries suffered during the recent battles at Galileo LFB. Captain Kellson has been detached from the remnants of the 72nd AC, and will be TAD'd (Temporary Assigned Duty) to the Templar training facility you mentioned in your report to Sai, pending his recovery and return to duty in two weeks time. I have nominated him to receive not only a Silver Star, which will be his second after the one he received from the fight in Panama you mentioned, but also The Allied Presidential Medal of Honor for his exemplary actions during the battles on the Moon. I've also got a list of seven other soldiers to receive that award, but he is the only one who will not be receiving it posthumously."
"Haven't only like three of those ever been awarded, in both of the wars to date?" Ashino asked, still stumbling over the fact that Cyprus had given him all the information he'd need to find Jean again.
"Six, but only three publicly. A deplorable practice that illustrates the detachment of the political chain of command from the realities of the war. A practice I will be changing. Many soldiers do not serve for recognition or medals or rewards... they serve because they feel it is their duty and privilege to protect their nation and loved ones. But that does not mean that recognition should be denied them, or their sacrifices made light of. No soldier in my military will ever be passed over for recognition due to them while I have anything at all to say about it. I remember the first time I received the APMH... it was the proudest moment of my life to date, even if I can never relate to anyone why I received it. At least, not for another fifty years, when it becomes grandfathered into unclassified material."
"Wait... first time... I thought you could only get it onc..."
"Here is her address, Markov. If you hurry, you should be able to arrive at her home just after she gets home from school, but before she goes out on the town with her brother and friends, a statistical likelihood of more than sixty seven percent." Cyprus interrupted him, taking a small sticky pad and writing on it in his neat, precise lettering. "There is nothing wrong with a soldier pursuing romantic efforts during a war... battle causes great fluctuations in people's emotions and it is entirely natural that you would seek out pleasant company in order to regain your equilibrium. Still, I would advise you not to become to heavily involved, for both your sakes. This war is far from over, and you will be doing a lot of fighting on the front lines now that the Independence is operational. Death could come for you at any time. I've never met her, but if you value this Jean, I would advise you not to let her suffer from the heartbreak of attending your funeral."
"I think you're misconstruing the depth of our relationship..." Ashino replied. Cyprus smiled, actually smiled.
"Then I think you're fooling yourself, my friend. People like you and I don't daydream about ordinary girls with whom we have little emotional involvement."
"So you are speaking from experience then... imagine that..." Ashino muttured, genuinely surprised.
"I'm a discliplined man. But I'm no eunuch." Cyprus passed the note, which also contained several phone numbers, off to Ashino as he limped past. "Best of luck. I'll give the young master your best wishes for the health of his children, and your regrets that you won't be by for at least a day or two. Even commanders need a little R and R now and then, and I'm sure he'll be pleased you found a girlfriend." before Ashino could protest that Cyprus was reading far too much into his relationship with Jean, the Lieutenant was out the door and away, having successfuly got the last word in.
"A surprisingly complex man... I was fortunate." Ashino whispered to the empty room. "First time... that selfless bastard, no wonder everyone whispers when they talk about him..."
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"This thing is incredible. Whoever designed this OS was an absolute genius. I'd like to think that when it comes to programming mobile suit OS's, that I'm pretty near the top of the food chain... but whoever did this, I... I feel like a child standing next to George Glenn." Kira shook his head for the upteenth time in amazement and admiration. "It actually allows for direct linkages between the nervous system of the pilot and the operating controls of the mobile suit. That's why there's no joysticks, chair or displays... the entire mobile suit is controlled just like it was the pilot's own body. I can't even imagine how expensive this must have been to develop... it's decades ahead of even the stuff Morganroete is developing."
"Well I suppose that explains the wires anyway... there has to be some physical interface between the pilot and the computers." Athrun replied, looking at his own computer terminal, right next to Kira's. He and Kira were working on analyzing the technical aspects of the captured Gundam, while Chief Murdoch and his mechanics went about the task of studying its mechanical properties. "It's ground breaking, you're right. With this control system, there's almost no limit to how precise your control over the actions of the mobile suit can be... almost anything you can do with your own body you can do with the mobile suit. Hell, with the extra programming in there, you can actually do more while interfaced with the suit than you can just on your own... from the looks of it, all the vernier and maneuvering thruster controls are encoded in such a way as to allow the pilot to use them as naturally as walking or jumping. How precisely is beyond me."
"You guys think that crap is somethin', you got to come look at THIS!" Murdoch shouted up to them. They floated down shortly thereafter, to witness a spluttering Murdoch pointing at another terminal screen with a disbelieving finger. "I didn't want to believe it, but you two can tell me I'm not crazy, right? Please tell me that you're both seeing the same thing I am here."
Kira only had to look at the readings for a moment before he realied what Murdoch was saying, and Athrun realized it at almost the same time. "This is a fusion reactor?" Kira breathed, jaw agape. "But... but... fusion hasn't even come out of the labratory stage yet! We just barely started using relatively minituarized nuclear reactors recently, with the Freedom and Justice. Is ZAFT really that much farther ahead than Orb and the Alliance?"
Athrun shook his head. "The PLANTS power comes mainly from solar collectors, along with some fission reactors. I'd heard my father talking about plans for an experimental fusion research group, but theres no way they could have come up with something like this already, and certainly not without someone knowing about it. Fusion is a potentially unlimited energy source... we'd all know if the PLANTS had perfected a working version."
"Well, I dunno if it's a real fusion reactor... thing seems to operate in a damned weird way. Starts up, throws out an asston of power, then shuts down and repeats the process a few hundred times to a few thousand times a minute, depending on how much power you want out of it. Which, even at minimal levels, is still enough to run a good sized city for a night." Murdoch scratched his head. "Guess that explains why its got such a complex and expensive looking cooling system... things gotta run hotter than a volcano."
"You think all that shit is scary, you probably don't even want to know about the gel." Dearka popped his head out of the ZAFT Gundam's cockpit, which he and Ysak had taken over and were slowly taking apart in an attempt to learn as much as possible about the way the strange mobile suit was put together.
"Tell us anyway, I think I got somethin' to top it after you're done." Murdoch called back. Dearka shrugged and guided a small globe of gel out of the cockpit and gently pushed it down at them so they could get a closer look at it.
"Whatever's in this, it's breathable. Not easily, but theres more oxygen in that gel than there is in the air around us. What Ysak and I think... what only makes sense, really, given the potential maneuverability the control system you guys are talking about allows, is that the cockpit is entirely filled with this gel when the pilot is operating the Gundam. Entirely...as in the pilot is breathing it instead of air. It's not an entirely unknown concept... some deep sea divers use a similar system to help them deal with the extreme pressures involved in sub-trench mining operations. With all the normally air filled spaces inside the human body flled instead with incompressible gel, it becomes much, much more difficult for a person to be harmed by pressureor other outside stresses on the entire body. Now, if the entire cockpit is thus essentially "filled" with an incompressible substance... well, I can't say for sure but I'd imagine you wouldn't be feeling much stress from high G maneuvers."
"I bet a Coordinator with the right motivation could probably pull a continuous twenty G of acceleration while encased in the gel without much ill effect." Ysak added his own two cents. "Theres a lot of odd machinery around the cockpit region that also extends to most other parts of the machine, the purpose of which still eludes me. It looks for all the world like a form of superconductor, but what exactly it does is beyond me."
"Yeah, thaats pretty cool and all. But I still think mine's weirder." Murdoch said. He pointed dramatically to the Pulsar's damaged shoulder. "Look at that! Look at the damage!"
"You're pointing at the wrong shoulder, Chief... theres no damage there." Kir pointed out gently.
"Think so!? Look again, at the other shoulder, smart guy." Chief Murdoch shot back. Kira did as instructed, and felt his eyes widening. Athrun gasped and pushed off to float up to the Gundam's shoulder level. Ysak was already up there by the time Athrun got there.
"I don't get it. I know there was a burn scar here just a few hours ago..." Ysak mumbled, looking irritated. He studied the seamless grey-white armor plate of the shoulder guards, both of them identical in their pristine appearance.
"For that matter... weren't there a whole bunch of cracks along the torso region as well?" Athrun mused, cupping his chin in his hand as he stared at the entirely undamaged armor.
"Chief... have you been..." Kira started to say. Murdoch gave him the evil eye for a moment.
"Does it look like I've had gangs of men running around, replacing sheets of armor? I think even you bunch might have noticed that." Murdoch replied flatly. 'No, I ain't even touched this creepy scrapheap, but somehow, someway, its gone and fixed itself. This thing ain't natural."
"Did Lacus have any luck in finding out who the pilot was?" Ysak asked Kira.
"How should I know, I haven't talked to her since she... oh... yeah." Kira trailed off when Ysak smirked at him in a superior fashion and repeatedly tapped the side of his head. "Hold on, I'll see what I can find out."
"I'm reaching the creepiness limit down here." Murdoch complained, sotto voce. "We got a fusion powered, self repairing Gundam with an totally new OS but a dead pilot, and now the kid and the pink princess are holding telepathic meetings. What the hell happened to me? Why am I just sitting here accepting this? I should be banging my head on a wall in some institution somewhere, cause that's the only explanation for how I'm just accepting this. I must be going loopy."
"I see. I see. Yes, I'll tell them. Thank you Lacus. Love you too. Talk to you... well, you know what I meant." Kira muttered. Dearka sidled over to Athrun, no mean feat in the microgravity present in the hangar bay. He jerked a tumb at Ysak and Kira.
"I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with the idea of going out in public with them. Who knows when one of the girls is gonna give them a beepcall or whatever it is... we've got enough problems on our hands, without having to fend off well meaning but clueless psychologists, wanting to commit those two for talking to nonexistant people. Besides that, it just plain creeps me out. I could never stand to have Mir privy to all my thoughts, could you?"
"Well, to be honest I never really thought what it would be like having Miriallia privy to all my thoughts, but now that you mention it I'm sure it would be an ordeal." Athrun replied with a tight grin for the narrow look Dearka shot him. "And it probably wouldn't be all that fun for the rest of us, you know? Given that we'd be scraping your teeth out of the wall every few days when you thought a... how should I put this... "unconventional"... thought about her."
"Oh, so I'm the only guy who has dirty thoughts about his girlfriend, am I? Its on, Zala. Its on." Dearka replied vindictively.
"This is supposed to be a serious investigat..." Athrun started to protest, noting the wicked glint in Dearka's eye.
"That can wait. We can sum it all up as "we don't know what this Gundam can do, and we won't till we actually boot it back up, which we can't do until Captain Ramius says we can", I'm sure you'll agree. And I'm not letting you off the hook that easily, Zala." Dearka said firmly. "Ysak, Kira, come here a moment. I need you to help me prove a point to Mr. High and Mighty Zala here."
"I'm always happy to help you take Athrun down a peg or two, but I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this..." Ysak said a few seconds later, floating next to them.
"You're so intuitive its frightening sometimes." Dearka mocked. "Just too bad you never use it in combat or you'd be unbeatable."
"You didn't call me down here to poke fun at me, or at least I hope you didn't, for your sake."
"I'm so unmanned with fear I'm not even trembling anymore. But that's beside the point. I have a question I need to ask you both and I need you both to be completely honest with me. In return, I'll go out on a limb and be completely honest with you, for any question you ask me. Swear on my pride as a man."
"That's about as serious an oath as he can swear, stupid macho-bastard that he is." Ysak translated. "I'll bite. Ask, but you'd better be prepared cause I'm not gonna pull any punches with my question."
"I don't see why not. Might make for a good change of pace, my minds just running in circles with regard to this thing." Kira nodded at the Gundam. Dearka looked at Athrun.
"You're not going to let this drop, are you? Well fine, but I think you've gone and bet on a busted hand this time." Athrun said confidently.
"Oh no, victory is mine now. All right gentlemen, steel yourselves and mind that you promised to be totally honest." Dearka paused for a theatrical moment. "See, I was talking with Athrun about how inconvenient it would be to have your girlfriend always in your head, like you two guys have. Makes it real hard to have... creative... thoughts about them, woudn't it? Thats not the question though. Question is two parts and here it is: Do you think dirty thoughts about your girlfriends and WHAT is the dirtiest thing you've done? Now, now, don't give me looks like that... we're all men here and we're all friends... I really don't think you're going to be able to shock me... and if you can, then kudos."
"What brought this on again now?" Ysak gritted out, swallowing hard.
"Don't stall for time, though I don't care who answers first. Hell, I'll even be generous and give you guys a freebie by answering my own question. Answer to the first part is naturally a yes, and I'm sure that'll be the same for all of us, being that we are guys with working sex organs and hormones, and the average guy thinks about sex roughly at least once every twelve seconds when not forced into a life or death situation, and even then theres prolly the odd thought or two. As for part two... well, I wouldn't want to brag or anything but I've got the keys to not just the hood, but the trunk too, you know what I'm saying?"
"You can stop right there." Ysak cut him off, looking slightly queasy. "And never ever speak such words in my presence again. I'm going to have to clean my mind out with a power washer to get those images out."
"That's funny, I didn't get any images at all. Thinking about Miriallia a bit recently, Ysak?" Athrun couldn't resist jabbing at his age old rival.
"Okay, Zala, you wanna start shit, lets start some shit." Ysak retorted with an unfriendly look. "Hell yes I do, part one and part two... God help me if Katie finds out I said this... but we've tried a little bit of the whole master-servant thing, costumes and whatnot."
"Damn Ysak, that is... wait, which one's the master?" Dearka blurted.
"That is absolutely beyond the scope of the question."
"Well that answers that anyways. I always knew Katie was the one wearing the pants in your relationship." Athrun stabbed again.
"Hey, at least I don't get slapped by my girl for being a over-righteous dick on my way into space." Ysak shot back.
"Wait... what?" Kira asked, frowning.
"My answer is yes, obviously." Athrun hurried to change the topic, or at least advance the conversation, not wanting to get into another argument about Cagalli with Kira. "As for part two... well, Cagalli does have something of a voyeuristic streak. I don't think any of you truly want to know the number of places or times when we've had surprisingly satisfying sex."
"I think you're wrong. Come on Zala, you were man enough to poke fun at me... you can answer that question fully." Ysak goaded.
"You brought this on yourself, Ysak, remember that. I could name a half a dozen cars, both front seat and back... even once in a limo, while Kisaka was driving us to a Parliament meeting. Once during a bathroom break at a Parliament meeting. About twenty percent of the time while I was doing routine maintenance on the Righteous. Once in the hallway outside Ysak's room, four nights before we left for space. Once in Ysak's room, though not on the bed, while Ysak and Katie were out shopping... so thats why Katie has so many school uniforms, I was wondering... once inside the Grand Buster, that was a hoot. Hmm, let me think..."
"No, thats good. Don't be surprised if you wake up outside an airlock without a space suit sometime in the next few days." Dearka cut him off with a very unhappy look at the Grand Buster. "Defiling another man's machine like that... disgraceful..."
"It wasn't the first time someone had sex in there, I can tell you that, though why you would keep a dil..." Dearka slammed his hand over Athrun's mouth.
"Is beyond your capacity to understand, and will stay that way. Moving on to Kira, you bastard."
"Uh... well... I... yeah, I do think dirty thoughts about Lacus. Though really, I think dirty is not the right way to describe them. After all... men and women... thats just what we do when we love people, right?" Kira said slowly. The other three just eyed him steadily. "Fine then. Its nothing to be embarassed about. Lacus has a very talented mouth and is not afraid to use it. So there." Kira met their gazes evenly. He then cracked a wide grin. "And she wants me to tell you all that your souls now belong to her, unless you want Miriallia, Katie and Cagalli finding out about your loose tongues."
"Cagalli wouldn't really mind... per se... thrill of discovery..." Dearka tackled Athrun into the wall.
"I'm gonna shut you up before you talk us all into an early grave, you pyschotic bastard."
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