"So what was the point of it all, anyway? What have I managed to accomplish on my path? Have I accomplished anything, or have I stayed mired in the useless maelstrom of fighting in the moment to satisfy my own base desires?" Frost asked the mountain wind unhappily. It had been a week and a half since his aborted attempt to destroy the PLANTS with the Judgement, and the destruction of the same via collision with the Moon. He'd spent a few days hanging around the Moon, picking off stragglers of the lunar battles from both sides... but killing salvage and rescue crews rapidly grew boring, and the Fury lacked the destructive capabilities to properally assault either the LFB's or the civilian cities. He'd contemplated renewing the attack upon the PLANTS, but again the Fury was hardly the optimal suit for that... destroying even a single colony with his beam sabers alone would take days if not weeks, and there were dozens of the hourglasses. In the end he'd just ended up taking the shuttle he'd loaded up with munitions and supplies and heading back down to Earth, since space was no longer a progressive place for him to be.
"I suppose I could have stayed and made another go at Pink and friends, but I'm starting to get bored with our little tete a tete's. Who would have guessed that I would grow bored with the seeking of vengeance... certainly not me. But you knew, didn't you, Doc?" Frost spat, kicking a piece of wreckage off the side of the mountain and listening to it as it pinged and clattered its way down the steep slope. "I suppose you're probably laughing your skull off somewhere in the hellfires right now, aren't you, father? You knew that once I discovered the destiny you had in mind for me, I would become so intruiged that I would place all other concerns secondary to it... even those which are most pleasing to my heart. That's the way you designed me... to always have an eye on the goal at the end of the rope, and to have the ability to do whatever is necessary to get there. In order to kill everyone, I have to let the people I hate the most live happily for a while longer. It's enough to make me sick, you bastard!" Frost punched a hole in a nearby piece of sheet metal siding, thrown out of the habitent mountain during its destruction by the Archangel.
The echoing gong reverberating through the mountain valleys brought him back to the here and now, and he turned back to the original task that had brought him back to the ruins of JIHAD in the first place. Namely, searching for anything at his old "home" that could be of use to him in the future. His hope was to find another mobile suit, or at least the designs for one, something a little more suited to mass destruction, because without that capability he'd have to spend far too much time to accomplish his goals. And perhaps inevitably, time was not one of the resources he had unlimited reserves of. There was no set lifetime for a BCPU, theoretically they could live just as long as any other human, if not longer. But Frost had strong doubts about his own longevity... too much had been changed around with his body. Without the Doc and the specialist resources formerly present at JIHAD, he doubted he'd live more than ten more years at the outside. That meant he had only a decade to wipe out the entire human race... and with just the Fury that would be impossible. He needed more resources, and so he'd come to JIHAD to see what there was to see.
Which wasn't much. Blue Cosmos and the Alliance had come to JIHAD shortly after it had been destroyed, which was when the Judgement was first discovered and recovered. Most of the rest of the intact military hardware and technical items had been removed then as well. In the time since then, scavengers, looters, native opportunists and other human parasites had come and picked over the remains like vultures at a corpse. That hadn't left much more than rusted scrap and other debris either too damaged or too large to be man portable, along with a smattering of the truly worthless, like broken glass and empty food tins. At least, on the outsides of the mountains. Frost had noted that all the access doors to the habitent/facility mountain had been sealed, not only with chains but also with explosives that had dropped tons of rubble over all the main entrance points. This had given him the idea that there might still be items of some worth inside, else why go to the trouble to seal it? It had been on closer investigation of some of these sealed portals that he made a discovery that made him smile a very predatory smile.
"Well, well... if that just doesn't beat all..." Frost stared down at a set of footprints leading under a section of what looked like loose rubble. The footprints were fresh, made within the last day or two, and upon touch the "loose rubble" was revealed to be a cleverly concealed disguise over a passageway that lead into the mountain's upper levels. "So there were survivors after all. Must have been Ashino's doing... I thought I saw some of them moving into the lower levels just before Cray and Ashino escorted me away. Never would have thought I'd be thanking little Ashino for his foresight. I wonder how things have turned out down in the depths..." Frost giggled and walked confidently into the gloom, his eyes adjusting within seconds to the pitch darkness. It was deathly still inside the ruins of the upper levels, with the occasional "plip plop" of water dripping from a broken pipe or the rustle of rubble settling mixed in with the creak of cooked stone still unstressing even now. it didn't take Frost more than a few minutes of searching to discern that the upper levels were picked clean, little more than dusty rooms filled with useless scraps of cardboard and plastic. There weren't even any bodies... a fact that broadened his smile.
"No corpses... but plenty of nice trails in the dust." Frost murmured, tracing a finger along one such trail, where the dust was almost a millimeter less thick along an extended route. There was also a faint organic sludge mixed in with the dust particles... dried blood flakes if he was any judge. "Never really been partial to man-burgers, but if there was nothing else..." Frost started following the trail, noting that it quickly converged with several more, and followed the combined trail down several flights of stairs into the middle levels of the mountain facility. Even as he descended, he was well aware of the fact that he was being stalked by several entities. They knew their territory well, but they were half maddened by hunger and less than fully sane to start with in most cases, and that made them careless. Well, that and an utter lack of fear for him that he found very disrespectful. Sad to think that such a relatively short absence could cloud their memory so much.
The middle levels showed signs of habitation... a bundle of rags in a corner that was probably a bed, footprints in the dust with no drag trails obscuring them, etchings of nonsense symbols on a wall, even a few bits of human waste shoved in a small hole and covered with a makeshift lid. Frost paused and sniffed the air... it was redolent with the scent of decay and with the smell of stale air. Without the air circulators, the lower levels would be quickly growing toxic with carbon dioxide. Nothing his lungs, or the lungs of most BCPU's couldn't handle, but a fact that sharply reduced the chance of there being any Natural survivors. Not that he was particularly looking for or expecting there to be Natural survivors, since in this sort of survival of the fittest environment the scientists and technicians would have been little more than a food source for the BCPU's, despite their supposedly superior reasoning abilities. A PHD in Biochemistry didn't do much to tell you how to survive in an underground complex filled with insane, ravenous super-human monsters.
On his way down to sub-level 3, he encountered his first surprise, something he hadn't been expecting since he first saw the footprints and the disguised entrance. A body, a fresh body, the blood barely dried. A BCPU 2 by the look of the kid, who couldn't have been much more than ten years old. Though it was a bit hard to tell, considering almost the entire head was blown off and smeared along several square feet of the wall and ceiling, with two more large holes in the torso region. No simple pistol or rifle fire made holes like that, this was something heavier, something that would put a man down with a single shot almost no matter where they were hit. But there was also no evidence of copious amounts of brass, like a heavy autoweapon would leave everywhere it went. Maybe whoever it was was just that meticulous, but Frost doubted it. Instead, a strange giddiness welled up inside him and he dared to hope a little. He found two more bodies during his descent to sub-level 4, similarly shot up like the first. The residents had tested this other newcomer thoroughly, but now Frost was more certain than ever that the other intruder had come out victorious.
The attack came on sub-level five, as he was poking about in one of the laboratories... one that had focused on the unique bone-structure of the BCPU projects, judging by the number of skeletal images and displays along the walls,not to mention the hundreds of prototype bones scattered around on the floor, where they had been tossed and discarded from their broken display cases. It was a coordinated effort, the work of preadtors that had had time enough to work out a pecking order and a few basic strategies for survival, namely pack hunting, something which came naturally enough to the BCPU's, given their military training. Two BCPU 2's and a BCPU 3 charged through the doorway of the lab, brandishing improvised weapons and howling like banshees, while a second BCPU 3, an impressive specimen with bulging muscles that brought to mind an image of a hairless gorilla, dropped down into the room from a hole in the ceiling, behind Frost. He could hear even more of them moving outside the room... there had to be at least ten or fifteen more prowling around in the deeper corridors, waiting to discern the viability of attacking the newcomer, or even ambushing the first hunting pack if their numbers were reduced enough. Turnabout was more than fair play in the ruins, it was a key to survival.
The first attacker to reach him was a female, about twelve years old, swinging a short wooden hafted shovel with determination and vigor, if not exceptional skill. Frost blocked the shovel's swing with one forearm, splintering the cheap wooden haft and knocking the ruined weapon from her numb hands in the same motion. His other hand came around and crushed the front of her skull in like it was made of plaster. The grisly death of a fellow pack member did nothing to slow the other three, they continued their attack without even looking at her body. Frost bared his teeth in admiration and went on the offensive. The second BCPU 2 was armed with a pair of iron pipes, torn out of some bathroom wall somewhere, their jagged ends serving as effective piercers as well as a bludgeoning tool. The BCPU, a male of similar age to the female, growled a curse-shriek and leapt at Frost, only to be kicked in the gut hard enough to rupture his liver, spleen, kidneys and large intestine, despite the armor. The pain was too much for the lesser BCPU, who dropped to the ground gagging and writhing.
Frost appropriated the twin lengths of pipe and promptly put them to good use, spearing them through the chest of the lanky BCPU 3 charging him from the front. That didn't stop the foe, but it did slow him down enough for Frost's spearing elbow to crush his windpipe. Even that didn't completely stop the BCPU 3, who continued to claw feebly at Frost until he finished him off by stamping his foot entirely through the weaklings chest. This satisfying exchange of blows gave the pack leader more than enough time to close the distance between it and the foolish prey that had exhausted itself on the lesser packmates, for whom there would be many eager replacements from the other, less important hunt-teams. The BCPU 3 known as Juggernaut by his peers pounced upon the short prey-animal and bore it to the ground under his weight and momentum, his iron strong arms closing tightly around the surprisngly hard body of the other, holding the petrified thing still as Jug snapped his head down and chomped down with his teeth on its shoulder, tasting the sweet blood flow... Jug snarled and spat coarsely, mouth stinging and nose wrinkling with nausea. The blood of this prey was rank and bitter, just like the blood of... the packmates...
"Am I not to your liking, fool? Don't taste good? Must be something in our blood, eh, little brother?" Frost mocked, the bite marks on his shoulder already scabbing over. "We may be monsters, but we're not vampires or cannibals... theres no benefit to making us like that. Quite the opposite I'd imagine."
"You speak... like you... know me?" Jug grated out, his throat sore from disuse and privation. "You taste like one of the Ruined, and you fight like one too... but I don't recognize your scent." Jug kept up the pressure on the other, who even if he was not prey was still smaller and of lesser status than Jug. He could not allow his dominance to be questioned, or else he would have to go to the Bad Place, where the devil-prey had recently taken up residence.
"The Ruined huh? Apt enough, I suppose." Frost replied. "I am the favored son of Doc. My name is Frost."
"Favored son of the creator? Har... you talk big for a stranger with no pack." Jug retorted, tightening his grip, though to no discernable effect on Frost. "You came from the outside world, didn't you? But you weren't here when the fire and noise came, when the mountain fell on top of us and buried us. No... you're no son of the creator. You're just another devil-prey, like the other. The old-one with the eyes of ice. However, you don't have any firearms, do you? You were foolish, Frost. You didn't make it to the Bad Place, like the old-one. You're going to die out here in the warrens, and I will wear your bones as trophies."
"Admirable sentiment, but misplaced. I'm not your... well, that would be lying. I am your enemy. But I am less your enemy than those whos enemy we both are. The very enemy we were all designed to fight." Frost replied. "Who is this other so called "devil-prey"?" Frost asked. He didn't have to ask what the Bad Place was... every BCPU knew there was only one place that would ever be called that. The waste pit, where BCPU's were "dis-enrolled" from the program after unsatisfactory performance. Just thinking about it even made Forst the tiniest bit uneasy... almost his entire race was buried in there, their mouldering remains forever entombed below the roots of the mountain... it was chilling, in a way. Little wonder Jug spoke of it with near superstitious awe and dread.
"The other devil-prey is the old-one. The one with eyes like ice that can freeze even a starving hunter into immobility. The one with the gun, the pistol that kills quickly, spitting death along a blue laser light. The old captain, the creator's enemy. Devil named, devil born, devil blessed... Asmodeus." Jug hissed in reply. "He came here recently. Maybe two days as time should pass, its hard to tell in the warrens. He tottered like one who wants to die, and seemed as listless as one whom has bled out. But when the hunters came to collect his flesh for our bellies, he froze them, froze them like mice with his eyes and set them to trembling and mewling in fear. I caught only a glimpse myself and I was rooted to the ground, incapable of motion. It is no shame to admit this... all were affected so. Eyes like that... why... what loss... what hatred... incomprehensible. We had to kill him. But the gun, that gun. It blew the hunters apart like rag dolls, not at all like the guns of the scientists and guard-maggots. By the time we recovered our wits, he'd entered the Bad Place. And he has not come out. We will kill him when he does."
"You'll do no such thing. Not to such a beautiful person as Asmodeus sounds to have become. I think he might actually understand now... and people who really, truly understand are far too precious to let die. At least, for a while. There are so few after all. So few who can answer the question. The most important question of all... How?" Frost felt the excitment start to rise within him.
"How?" Jug asked. "How what?"
"How will you end your life? We're all dead. We've been dead since we were born. Everything that lives dies, without death there can be no life, and vice versa. People are far too worried about when they will die. They fight to cling to life for even a few precious moments more, but they are deceiving themselves. When isn't important. How is important. What will you be doing when you die? How will it mke a difference? How will your death make its mark?" Frost explained. "Well, don't bother answering that, I can tell you, as far as you are concerned. The mark your death will make... will be a pleasant red stain on that wall over there..." Frost shrugged his arms and broke Jug's grip on his body. Moving far faster than the musclebound BCPU 3 could discern, Frost stepped out of the grapple and pivoted, leg snapping out in a side kick that shattered Jugs's knees like they were made of glass. Frost caught the body as it dropped forward, squawking in agony. It was a simple twist and hurl from there... the sack of ruptured organs and splintered bones slowly slid down the solid steel wall, blood rapidly drying to a crust that covered up the cracks that had defaced the surface around the impact point.
"I am the favored son. Anyone who wishes to dispute that, step forward now!" Frost bellowed out into the pitch black hallways. There was a brief sussuration of movement, but no body slipped into view. "Feh... cowards. But I suppose you know your places. I'm a sixer. Yeah, that guy. And I am now the leader. The Doc gave me a purpose, but hes dead now, so I'm gonna have to step into his shoes and give you sorry lot a purpose. But don't delude yourselves into thinking I care about you or that I'm doing this for you. I'm going to get you killed. Bloodily, terribly, agonizngly... you're all going to die, either by my hand, or by my command. Your lives are mine. And if you don't like it... theres plenty more wall to color." Frost shouted. There was no response. "You may have been happy, pretending to be a bunch of degenerate animals, preying on each other down in these tunnels, but that time is at an end. You're still degenerate animals, that hasn't changed. But I won't let you waste your talents down in these dim halls. Not when I can make use of you."
Frost walked confidently out into the halls, watching BCPU's skitter out of his way in the corners of his vision. Many still clutched improvised tools or weapons in their hands, but none dared approach him, or made any threatening moves as he made his way surely to the Bad Place. Their eyes followed him like he was casting off light, and some even shielded their gaze rather than look at him. The terrible favored son, the sixer. All had heard of him, none living had met him. But they could not doubt the evidence of their eyes... Jug's pack, the strongest hunters in the warrens, were nothing but torn meat at the hands of this Frost. None dared his displeasure. They were afraid to die. They clung to each precious beat of life as if it might be their last. They all asked when, and had no concept of how. Thus they would be tools, rather than tool users.
Asmodeus was not hard to find. He was sitting with his feet dangling over the abyss, on the rough stone floor of the cave, just off to the side of the twisted wreckage of the steel mesh walkway that had formerly bridged the pit, before the mountain and partially collapsed into the cavity. The stench coming up from below was enough to send a human gagging to his knees... not only the rotting odors of hundreds of corpses and tons of bio-medical waste, but toxic gases expelled from the deep places under the Earth... all rose as one miasma into the disposal cave, and from there slowly drifted into the rest of the complex. But Asmodeus didn't seem unduly bothered by it, even without his mask. No doubt he had become acclimatised after spending more than a day in the cave, though the toxic gasses couldn't have been doing his lungs much good. But that was Asmodeus's problem, not Frost's, and was actually a good sign, a sign that Asmodeus was probably much more concerned about How rather than When.
"I don't suppose you can answer my question now, can you, Asmodeus?" Frost asked without preamble, stopping within easy rushing distance of the Hellhound. One swift push and Asmodeus would have a one way trip to the upper levels of Hell, or however far down the abyss went anyway.
"I figured you'd show up sooner or later, after I heard about what happened on the Moon." Asmodeus said, without looking back, not that his merely human eyes would have been able to see anything in the pitch darkness anyway. His mask lay on the cave floor beside him, and his pistol was in his lap, loaded and ready. "There were really only a few places you would go to plan your next move, now that the Judgement has been removed from the picture. We never designed that machine for you to use, you know. And seeing to what use you put it, I'm reminded again of why. Talk about a waste of a good weapon..."
"I didn't come here to listen to you mull over my shortcomings." Frost interrupted. "Do you have an answer for the question I asked you in Panama or not?"
"You mean How? I've put some thought into it, Frost. And I think there is only one correct answer."
"And that is?"
"With all my enemies crushed and defeated before me, with the entire world burning at my back and with no regrets for either. I will accomplish this goal and then I will end myself, because... because I hate everyone. I have nothing, so I will take everything. I will take, and take and take, no matter who fights me, who allies against me, or what force is levied against me. And I will keep taking, until theres only one thing left to take, which will be my own life. Then I'll take that too, and I will be happy. That is How I will die." Asmodeus snarled.
"I think..." Frost paused. "... that you and I have a lot in common, Asmodeus. I agree with your answer." Frost met Asmodeus's gaze as the man craned his neck around, shivering with delight as he saw the murderous, homicidal gleam in the ice blue eyes of the Hellhound. "And I think we can both be of great help to each other in accomplishing our mutual Hows."
"Don't be condescending to me, you little freak. I may have snapped, I might even understand how you feel a little bit now... but I am not your friend and I've yet to decide if I'm going to be your ally or enemy." Asmodeus retorted coldly. "I know how fast you are, but you still don't know how fast I am. I think I can put a bullet in your head before you can push me over the side."
"While it would be fun and interesting to put that to the test, its not something we can afford to indulge in right now." Frost answered. "It's us two against everyone else, including each other naturally. Just because I hate everyone and you feel similarly, doesn't exclude you, my soul-kindred. There will come a day when we will put our speeds to the test... but I think that day should be after the rest of the world has met its fate."
"You're proposing that we work together, just like the old times?" Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, confident that Frost would be able to see his skepticism.
"No. I'm proposing that we work together, as people with the same goal. But not like old times. I am not your subordinate, and you are not afraid of me. Neither of us has any power over the other. That is good. So what do you say, Asmodeus? Or perhaps I should call you Mr. Gle... but that wouldn't be your name anymore, would it?"
"Not since long before I joined Blue Cosmos. I am Asmodeus Sark. Who I was before... who I was related to before... that is inconsequential, though I am curious as to how you figured that out, when not even Cervantes knew." Asmodeus replied.
"Cervantes was, in the end, just a Natural. The Doc was a Coordinator. They are awfully good at figuring out things, especially things having to do with genetics, wouldn't you agree? I never would have thought that the assassin was a member of his own f..."
"Neither did he, which was why it worked. He was always far to trusting, even of his extended family. The look on his face... I'll never forget it." Asmodeus found himself smiling at the memory. "I was so young then... and angry, and stupid. But without that one act, none of this would ever have happened."
"And I can't tell you have grateful I am that you pulled that trigger. So... partners then?" Frost asked again.
"Partners... no." Asmodeus replied. "Kindred spirits, certainly. Demon, I greet you amiably. I am the hound of Hell. May my foes burn in the fires of my passing."
"I suppose I can go for that, too. I greet you as well, devil. May my own enemies cry their own lifes blood out into the wake of my fury." Frost held out his hand, and without hesitation, Asmodeus shook it, though the gesture was quite empty of any real meaning. Nothing would change the fact that the two men were mortal foes, desiring only the death of the other... just not before others. A true match made in Hell.
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"It's a call from WHO!?" the Commander of the Carpentaria Garrison forces blurted, storming into the operation center buried under the middle of ZAFT's last major base on Earth, still under reconstruction from the terrible battle that had been fought there several months prior. It had been nearly three months since the disastrous attempt to invade the moon had been rebuffed. Three months of uneasy calm while both sides frantically sought to come up with a new strategy. But, perhaps predictably, it had been the Alliance that managed to find its feet first, both because of its superior industrial base and because Sai had already planned extensively past a victory or draw at the Moon, while ZAFT had been banking almost everything on their own victory there, which they failed to accomplish. The damage suffered at ZMHQ due to the efforts by the Judgement and the rogue Frost certainly hadn't helped matters either. And finally, the loss of the top secret new ZAFT Gundam, an asset which had cost billions of dollars and millions of man hours, was nearly the killing blow, in terms of morale anyway. Everyone in ZAFT knew that the situation was approaching the worst case scenario, where their superior technology and skill would no longer be able to compensate for the numbers arrayed against them.
"It's coming from the west, sir. The source is about ten miles outside our outermost sea based defense perimeter." the duty communications officer reported, a nervous quaver evident in her voice.
"How the hell did they get so close? That's almost two dozen miles within our aerospace perimeter!" the commander, a General, snapped in constrenation. "Whats the size of the enemy force? I need details people!"
"We can't see them, sir! They're employing some sort of new jamming system. All I'm getting is a large blur on my screens. The Gerald DINN team has been scrambled and are on an overflight order to that area to try and get a visual confirmation, but we won't hear back from them for at least five minutes." an operations officer replied. The General ran his hand through his hair in frustration. ZAFT's technological edge was fast becoming dull. Oh sure, the Elementals were a godsend, worth two or three DINNs on the battlefield, but they still had so few of them, especially compared to the number of new Earth Forces esigns that were being produced. He'd spent several sleepless nights going over the intelligence reports obtained on the new war machines he could potentially be facing off against, and he was not completely sanguine about his forces' ability to measure up anymore.
"I want a full alert. All hands to battle stations. Incoming enemy force of unknown disposition and strength. Possibility of immenient WMD attack. Get all the civilian and non-essential support personnel to the shelters, right now! Move it people, lives are on the line!" the General ordered firmly.
"Sir!" the comms officer spoke up. There was no response. "Sir!" she called again, louder.
"What? I'm a bit busy here."
"You still have a call sir. From the commander of the enemy task force. Do you want me to patch him through, sir? The source of the call has not moved any closer, he's still holding position ten miles outside the sea-perimeter."
"They want to talk? Fine, though I don't expect much more than threats and boasts." the General picked up a phone and sat in his command chair. "Patch him through."
"This is Commander Markov Ashino, of the Isolationist Army 1st Combined Arms Division, calling for the officer in charge of the Capentaria Base." a youthful voice announced over the room's speakers, as the image of a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but very short for his age, with bright curly red hair and pale lime green eyes, his pale but sturdy body encased mostly in a flight suit of black with grey and orange camouflage patterns on it, sitting in the control chair of a mobile suit come on the main screens.
"I am General Dumand, of the Carpentaria Defense Force. Don't play games with me, boy, you're far too young to be a flag officer. I should have known the Alliance wouldn't want to do anything but play a stupid game..."
"My apologies General, but judging me based on my phsyical age is not very wise." Ashino cut in. "I am the commander of the task force that is currently arrayed ten miles outside your sea-perimeter. However, I don't particularly want to fight you. Well, let me be honest... I would like to fight you, but that side of me is no longer the side in control. A fact I have largely to thank President Argyle and my other friends for, but thats not relevant to this conversation. As I said, I do not wish to fight you. But the day after tomorrow will mark the end of the three month grace period outlined in President Argyle's Isolation Plan, which calls for the removal of all Coordinators from the Earth and near-Earth territories, such as the Moon. We would prefer you to leave of your own conzigance, but the use of force is authorized if you do not show signs of complying by the specified dates, which you haven't. Funds have been set aside to pay for the relocation of all Coordinators, ZAFT or civilian, from their current places of residence. Feel free to destroy any military supplies or confidential information you don't want the Alliance to have access too, but any attempt to bring military supplies back into space will be stopped."
"You sound like you're dictating terms to a surrendering foe, Commander Ashino." General Dumand observed with eyes narrowed in fury. "The Alliance may have gained an advantage when we failed to take the Moon, but we are far from defeated. You would be crazy to expect us to just give up in the face of your threats."
"I don't expect you to give up. I know Coordinators would never do such a thing, especially given all the tragedy you've been forced to endure at the hands of prejudiced members of the Alliance. But the Isolation Party is not that Alliance, that did such reprehensible things to your people, and created people like me to fight and kill you." Ashino replied. "Much as judging me by my age is a mistake, so is judging the current Alliance leadership by your experiences with the likes of Azrael and Zunnichi. We do not seek the destruction or annihilation of the Coordinator people. We just don't want you in proximity to us, because we Naturals have a sad tendency towards violence towards others. We want you to leave for your own sakes. Please... at least send your civilians home, back to the PLANTS. That's whats going to happen to them anyway, after we occupy Carpentaria. It'll be far easier on them if you let them go before a battle occurs."
General Dumand ground his teeth in supressed rage. He leant forward and stared at the boy on the screen, who was looking back at him with cold neutrality, despite his impassioned plea. "You think... you actually think... that you can appeal to my concern for our civilians in order to get me to surrender Carpentaria to you? You're right... the new regime is nothing like the old. At least they didn't bother trying to hide their villany behind a veneer of civility. Blue Cosmos is Blue Cosmos, regardless of how they dress their ideals up. President Argyle is a loon, just like his father in law was. His Isolation Plan is a flight of fancy that is just as genocidal for the PLANTS as the nukes that Zunnichi and Azrael tried to use. Any reasonable person can realize that seperation solves nothing, and cessastion of trade is pure frothing madness. We will fight to the last before we agree to slow death by starvation. This conversation is over. If you want Carpentaria, you'll have to take it from us, and unless you're willing to turn it into a radioactive wasteland, which would run counter to your so called principles, I don't think you can."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, but your reply is not unexpected. Still, you have two days remaining before the end of the deadline. President Argyle promised no attacks of any sort would occur until after the deadline and I will keep his word. That is not to say we won't defend ourselves if attacked, but we will not initiate conflict until the deadline is up. I've transmitted instructions for how to start moving your people back up to the PLANTS, along with numbers to call for transportation and compensation services. Please distribute them and let your people decide for themselves. The last thing I or President Argyle want is more senseless civilian casualties. We'll be listening if you want to call..."
"ARROGANT ASS!" General Dumand severed the connection, unable to bear any more of the condescending from the Alliance commander. "So, they want to play the pure hearted knights do they, well fine. Two days will give us plenty of time to prepare and observe the enemy force. Get me ZMHQ... we're probably going to need some backup."
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"I did as you asked." Ashino reported to Sai. The Independence was currently standing on the forward flight deck of the refurbished AFNS Victorious Super-Carrier, currently holding station a little more than ten miles outside Carpentaria's sea based defense perimeter. Damaged by the Archangel during the Battle of Carpentaria, the Victorious had been in drydock until just after the battles on the Moon reached their conclusion. Now fully repaired and updated, it formed the core of the Isolationist 1st CAD (Combined Arms Division), along with its two sister ships fresh out of the shipyards, the AFNS Triumphant and EFNS Magnificent, as well as escort, support and supply vessels for each carrier. In total the fleet consisted of more than thirty ships, carrying eighty Dagger JA's, forty Cavaliers, five Templars, four Archmage Platforms with sixteen Cataphracts in support, a full wing of 72 Sky-Grasper II's, two mobile suit carried FRALA units, thirty new Devilfish class submersible Mobile Armors and fifteen thousand infantry soldiers. Plus the Independence. A similarly sized task force was operating in the Mediterranean, and a third in the North Atlantic.
"I take it you got the same answer as the other task force commanders?" Sai asked. Ashino noted that his friend looked very tired indeed, there were deep rings under his eyes and his skin was a bit pasty. Part and parcel of being a world leader in a time of crisis perhaps, but then there was the stress generated by having two young children at home. Perhaps that was a positive stress though, especially as Vanai had almost fully recovered and both children were healthy and lively, with nothing to worry about. It had to be a nice change of pace, worrying about feeding baby formula or changing diapers rather than world wide war. Well, thats what Ramierez had opined... Ashino wouldn't know either way... in fact dealing with babies seemed pretty tough to him... a lot harder than fighting a war anyway. Twins... Matthias the boy and Jessi the girl... Ashino had seen them several times now and still didn't know what to think. They cried and threw up and generally made nuisanes of themselves at all hours of the day and night... but looking at his friends when they were with their children... now that was something special. Even Cyprus had seemed affected, which had told Ashino something right there.
"They have a hard time accepting the differences between you and Cervantes." Ashino admitted. "I can't blame them for their attitude."
"Neither can I, but that doesn't change my plans. I gave them three months, and all they've done is build up their forces again. Listen, I shouldn't tell you how to fight... but... try and... well..."
"There will be as little damage as possible. I can't fight like your former friend Kira, but I won't let this be anything like the last Battle of Carpentaria." Ashino assured Sai. "Still, it won't be pretty. They're going to fight almost to the last, thats the impression I got. They know we've got them backed into a corner, and like all cornered beings, that will make them fight all the harder."
"That's the reality of things." Sai agreed. "I've got the latest intelligence briefings from Cyprus, if you want to hear them."
"Sure. And maybe afterwards we can... whats it called? Talk shop, I think? Maybe that's not the right term... hmm..."
Sai chuckled. "I'll be glad to tell you about Vanai and the kids after we get the serious stuff out of the way, Ashino, thanks for asking. And maybe you can update me on your progress with that girl... Jean, right?" Sai smirked at the briefly lost expression that crossed Ashino's face at the mention of his "girlfriend". Ashino insisted she was just a friend who was helping him come to terms with his human side, but after seeing the happy expression on his friend's face one time after he came back from a trip to a mall with this girl Jean, Sai knew there was more to it than pyschiatric counseling. It reminded him quite strongly of how he had felt about Fllay when they had first started going out. Now that was a tangled piece of barbed memory to dig up, but the pain was dull now, what with Vanai and his children around to cheer him up. "Well, ZAFT is cooking something up at the PLANTS, but we don't think they're going to try another invasion type attack. They just don't have the forces for it. In some ways that worries me, because with the option of conventional force denied them, that means they're going to have to turn to some other method for winning the war. We still don't think they'll use nukes, yet, but they have to be getting close to thinking about it."
"What about the Clyne Faction? They've been uncharacteristically silent since they intercepted Frost at November 8. Yet there is no way they have given up on trying to negotiate a peace agreement between us and the PLANTS. Lacus Clyne doesn't know the meaning of the words "give up"." Ashino asked.
"The're still battering away on the diplomatic fronts, but I think both the PLANTS and us are using the same strategy to deal with that, namely fobbing her off on any of a multitude of flunkies who like to talk but have no real power. As much as she doesn't want to admit it, the time where a single girl and her friends, no matter how well liked or respected, could influence the outcome of this war, has ended. Don't get me wrong, I won't discount the ability of the Clyne Faction to influence the outcome of the war, but with their staunchly neutral stance... well, that limits them, really. If they joined one side or the other, they could probably bring the war to an end within a few months... but staying neutral just minimizes the impact of their actions as the actions of a band of vigilantes. Especially because the one nation they are recognized by has no international legitimacy yet, since Orb is still in the early stages of reconstruction."
"No legitimacy yet, huh? Representative Attha still being stubborn, then?" Ashino said with a small smile of shared frustration. Sai nodded and winced.
"I can't talk to her face to face anymore, even over the phone. She has no concept of compromise, at least when dealing with my government. She's flat out rejected the Isolation Plan, calling it inhumane and illegal and refuses to make a deal about it, no matter how much aid I offer her. I've practically offered to rebuild Orb from the ground up at our expense, without Orb having to pay a dime, and still she refuses to enter discussions with us. I've already implented several changes she suggested for the Isolation Plan, including the provisions for providing food supplies to the PLANTS for up to a year from the initiation of the Plan, and she is still throwing fits. Okay, I get it, it's flagrantly against the Orb Constitution to deport people based solely on their race, but that is the only solution to this war that works, and if I have to appear like a racist bastard to do it, so be it!"
"She's really getting to you then if you're so worked up about it." Ashino observed.
"It's not just her. I could probably get around to her eventually by appealing on her concern for her nation as a whole. But she's married to Athrun Zala, after all. Legitimately too, with all the proper documents and papers. And he's never going to stand for the Isolation Plan, that much is obvious. He's still far too much a ZAFT patriot to let the Alliance win, and since he's opposed to me, Cagalli is. As long as he's around, Orb is going to be a problem."
"We could get rid of him. I know you don't want to stoop to assassination methods like Cervantes... but..."
"No. And its not just for morality's sake either, my friend. I've thought about it a lot, and if killing him off would help us bring peace, I might be able to do it. But if he dies, theres no way we'd ever convince Cagalli it wasn't us. If we assassinate Zala, the Clyne Faction and Orb will ally with ZAFT before his body gets cold. We'll probably still win, in the end, but it would take a hell of a lot more time and lives and thats not a price I'm willing to pay."
"But still... your orders direct us to go to Orb after we take Carpentaria and bring Australia into compliance with the Plan... she won't respond any more kindly to a task force off her shores than ZAFT has."
"I know. Trust me, I know. And I fully expect her to have the Clyne Faction fighting alongside her own forces, when you inevitably are forced to invade to bring the Isolation to them. It saddens me, it really does, that all my old comrades are going to force me to basically order their deaths, but in the interest of the greater good, I'm going to have to. And even with Kira and Athrun and Ms. Ramius and all the others fighting for her, Orb simply doesn't have the power to keep the Isolation out. Not after all thats happened to it. Truly a great loss, which I feel keenly as a former Orb citizen... but it just has to happen. It has to."
"What about that new terrorist group... the one Asmodeus and Frost started?" Ashino ground his teeth a little when he thought about Frost, who persistently refused to let the world be. Frustrating as Orb and the Clyne Faction were, at least they had peaceful intentions, they were misguided, but they were still trying to stop the war. Not so for the group of hardline Blue Cosmos fanatics and general ne'er do-wells calling themselves Tiamat, after a five headed demon-dragon of myth. The members of Tiamat specialized in hit and run attacks, raiding supply convoys and production centers, leaving twisted ruins and mutilated bodies in their wake as they made off with supplies and material, the Alliance had suffered from six such attacks already. They were still working out what Asmodeus and Frost were up to, after the initial announcement of the group's formation had been broadcast worldwide after the group destroyed a supply depot in the United States of South America about two months ago, killing nearly two hundred soldiers and civilians and stealing more than sixty tons of military supplies, as well as five old style Strike Daggers that had been mothballed there.
"Tiamat has been quiet for almost a week now... which to Cyprus and me means they're planning something big soon. Still, despite how appaling their actions are, they are little more than a sideshow, a last gasp of two sociopathic megalomaniacs trying to go out with a bang. Once we have the Isolation enforced on Earth we'll be able to snuff them out like the bad memories they are." Sai answered confidently. Privately Ashino wasn't so sure... Frost and Asmodeus were more of the "never say die" clique... they sure didn't see themselves as done and they would not be content in staying a sideshow. Especially since the latest estimates of their strength said they had at least twenty mobile suits at their disposal, in addition to the Fury. But Sai was probably right... once ZAFT and Orb were dealt with, Asmodeus and Frost would be hunted down easily enough. Ashino looked forward to that day.
"Well... that covers most of the major issues. I suppose you're going to want me to talk to you about Jean. Who ISN'T my girlfriend." Ashino said firmly.
"Sure she isn't. Thats why she was kissing you in Central Park last week, before you left to take charge of the 1st CAD." Sai retorted smoothly. The look of shock on Ashino's face was priceless. At least for a moment, then a steely look of determination re-settled across his features.
"I don't care how tough he is. Cyprus is going down. That was a very priv..."
"Man, you're too easy, Markov. Nobody was following you or spying on you. I just made that up. Though, it was what I was expecting, but it's nice to have it confirmed. Why don't you just admit it? Theres nothing wrong with having a girlfriend. Its perfectly normal."
"I'm just not comfortable with falling in love. Its strange. It makes me feel lost and unconfident."
"Thats how it makes EVERYONE feel." Sai shook his head. "God I'd say you were thickheaded, but it's really not your fault, so I can't. All right, lets skip the kiss then..."
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Ashino tuned Sai out for a few moments as his mind drifted back, not only to the goodbye he'd had with Jean in the park before he'd left for Carpentaria, but to the first time he'd been re-united with her. He'd just gotten the directions from Cyprus after Sai had run out to the hospital to see his children's birthing. He'd looked and looked for some form of transportation, a car, a helicopter, anything, but there was nothing. Everything was either being used for official or private business, or required waiting at least two or three hours to get ready. Well, Ashino was not in any mood to wait two or three minutes, much less hours... he'd contemplated stealing a vehicle, but quickly got a hold of himself and forced himself to be rational. Stealing a car or helicopter would only cause a big public scene and more problems for both himself and Sai, which neither of them needed right now. It wasn't until he'd gotten to the underground hangar area and gotten the Independence more than eighty percent of the way through a quick pre-flight check list that he realized he still wasn't thinking straight... a mobile suit was going to cause a big scene too. But by then he didn't give a damn anymore.
As he'd launched the Independence, he'd reflected that at times there were perks to being someone of importance in the government... a few quick comms kept the police and military off his back, even as the Independence cut straight across the middle of New New York City, though he did cause quite a bit of a stir amongst the population. Mobile Suits weren't a completely unseen item since the government had moved to New New York City, but it was almost unheard of for one to go rocketing across the skyline of the city in the middle of the afternoon, flying lower and faster than was strictly safe. Ashino didn't really care by that point. What would have been a thirty minute flight for a helicopter took just a little over fifteen for the Independence. It took about five more for him to identify the correct house, and a little more to decide that there really weren't any good landing spots nearby. By this time the entire suburban neighborhood was up and out of their houses, pointing up excitedly at the massive mobile suit hovering a few hundred feet overhead. Jean's family lived in a decent upper-middle class area, in a two story house of about two thousand square feet on about a three quarter acre of land. A long straight driveway sloped gently downhill to meet a cul-de-sac, their house was one of four that was served by the road end, made of dark brown wood and red brick much like all the other homes in view.
In the end he'd gone and landed in the middle of the cul-de-sac, leaving deep footprints in the asphalt, though he was careful to avoid stepping on any of the cars parked around the rim of the circular road ending. It was the work of only a few moments to pick out Jean, though she was dressed in a school uniform of white shirt and dark blue skirt, vs the pants and T shirt she'd worn in Panama. She was standing with an older man and woman who were likely her parents, while a young man a few years older than Ashino, with a military haircut and a cast on his right arm, was heading down the lawn towards the Independence, a concerned expression on his face. That would probably be the esteemed Captain Kellson then. Ashino found himself momentarily paralyzed with stage fright... he'd flown all the way here, made a huge scene of things... and he just sat there, too scared to go any further. He stared at Jean through his cameras for almost twenty seconds before he managed to kick himself back into motion. He knew he'd never be able to face Sai or Cyprus if he just took off again without talking to Jean, especially after all he'd done to get here.
"Hey! Hey! You in the suit... Hey!" Eric yelled, waving his good left arm at the gargantuan mobile suit that had just dropped out of the clear evening sky, after apparently scoping the area for threats or some such nonsense. It was plain that the mobile suit was an Earth Alliance model, that was easy to tell by the relatively blocky look and the markings, as well as how the head was constructed, but it was no Alliance model he was familiar with. It didn't look like any of the new models he'd seen up on the Moon either. It was tall... head and shoulders taller than a Crusader, and bulkier as well. For all that, from the little he'd just seen of it, it was maneuverable and quick, with an obviosuly top notch pilot at the controls. But all that aside, he couldn't figure what it was doing here, in suburban New York. If Command wanted to get a hold of him, there were easier ways... like his cell phone or pager. And the thought of a battle in the area was ludicrous... ZAFT couldn't get within a thousand miles of New New York City these days, not even if they came from orbit. With a hydraulic hiss, the cockpit opened and a mounting-cable with a foothold at the end dropped out of the cockpit.
"Eric...?" his father asked, turning to his son as the person most likely to have some idea what in all the names of hell was going on.
"I don't know, Dad." Eric replied quickly. "Hopefully whoever the pilot is has a damn good explanation for putting footprints on our road."
"What kind of mobile suit is that, Eric? Is it one of those new ones you were talking about?" his sister Jean asked, shading her eyes against the sun shining down from behind the mobile suit as she studied it.
"Beats me... its not one I'm familiar with though." Eric answered. "Hold on, looks like the pilot's coming down." Eric watched as the pilot took hold of the mounting cable and slowly started lowering himself to the ground eighteen meters below. Eric finally got a good look at the guy then, but he didn't recognize him at all. Short, the guy couldn't have been taller than five feet if not shorter, but he packed a lot of muscle onto his body all the same. He wasn't dressed in any sort of uniform Eric recognized... dark blue coveralls and black leather boots and belt, with no rank insignia or unit markings on them. The guy had pale skin and cherry red hair in tight curls on his head. Eric nearly jumped out of his skin when Jean shrieked, right next to him. For a moment he thought she'd gotten hurt somehow, but then he saw she was pointing at the pilot in shock, one hand up covering her open mouth as real tears welled in her eyes. "Jean...?"
"Its him... its him... he survived... he..." Jean muttured, paralyzed to her core. The images of that terrible day were flashing through her mind, especially the ones where Ash and his mobile suit took those final shots and fell into an abyss of fire, and the massive earth shaking explosion that had followed. She'd been sure that Ash was dead... no one could live through something like that. Especially because he hadn't come to find her, like he'd said he would. It had been months and she'd begun to accept that a guy she barely knew but cared for all the same was actually dead, even if she was overjoyed that Eric had survived his fight against the Gundams in Panama.
"You know this guy, Jean?" Eric asked as the pilot reached the ground and stood by the foot of his machine, looking more than a little unsettled by something, though he was staring directly at Eric and his family. Eric followed the guy's gaze more closely and confirmed it... yep, the guy was looking at Jean. That, combined with his sister's muttering, brought to mind what she'd told him about her own experiences in Panama. Still, he couldn't help but move in front of her protectivey. "Who are you?" he asked the pilot firmly.
"My name is Markov Johanavich Ashino." Ashino replied. "You would be Captain Eric Kellson? I've heard a lot about you."
"That's cool. I haven't heard anything about you. Mind explaining why you parked a mobile suit in front of our house?" Eric replied. Though that wasn't strictly true... something about the guys name was familiar. "And how my sister seems to know you?" Eric added, listening with half an ear to his sisters antics behind him. She was both sobbing and laughing, a combination that was quite disturbing and that he really didn't want to listen to for long.
The short pilot seemed to gain confidence the longer he talked. "Of course. That is an expected question. I first met Jean in Panama, at the festival being held there after Carpentaria. Well, I bumped into her by accident and well..." Ashino got no further before being tackled by a sobbing Jean.
"ASH! ASH, you're alive! Omigod, I was sure you were dead. What happened to you!?" she cried, burying her face against the back of his neck as she hugged him tight. Ashino froze awkwardly, before slowly putting his arms around her, though he was careful not to squeeze too tight. He felt detached from reality, like his body was numb... but it wasn't a bad feeling at all. No, the soft and warm person in his arms... that was undeniably a good thing, even if she was crying all over his back. That didn't really matter for some reason. He couldn't manage anything but simply holding her for almost a minute, before the sound of a throat being cleared brought him back to the here and now.
"Ahem. Thats my sister you're cuddling. And she did ask you a question, you know. I'd like a few answers, before I break my foot off in your ass, buddy." Eric prompted. He wasn't epecting it when Jean flew out of Ashino's arms and nearly broke his shin with a vicious kick. "OWW! WHAT THE HELL...!?"
"This man saved my life in Panama several times and probably saved yours too, nearly dying in the process. And you're gonna go off and threaten him!? You're lucky you're hurt, or I'd put you in the hospital!" his sister told him furiously.
"Now dear... some of us here have no idea whats going on. Perhaps we should go inside and talk things over, hmm?" his mother came over and put her hand on Jean's shoulder in a "don't mess with mom" gesture.
"I would be amendable to that." Ashino offered. He looked around at all the staring neighbors and flushed more than a little. "I'm never going to hear the end of this from Sai..."
It was at the mention of that name that Eric's memory finally clicked and came up with the information that had been eluding it ever since Ashino identified himself. He felt his legs go to jelly for a moment, and not just from the bruise Jean had given him. He'd been about to get tough with the Supreme Commander of the Alliance Mobile Forces... his bosses bosses... several more bosses... boss. The second in command of the entire Alliance Military. He saluted so fast he cracked himself across the forehead with his cast. "Sir! Sorry, sir, I didn't recognize you!"
"Please don't do that, I'm embarassed as it is." Ashino muttered. "I'm not here in an official capacity. I'm just here to see a friend. Okay? And you aren't in uniform anyway, so don't salute me."
"Of course, sir. My bad... oh crap..." Eric was appalled at speaking so informally. Careers could be ended by a single misspoken word, at least when dealing with top brass. Even if the guy didn't act like top brass.
"Listen, Ca... no, Eric. My name is Ashino. Don't call me sir, unless we're both in uniform. Damn... now I know how Cyprus and Sai feel. This is annoying. Anyway, I'm here to see Jean. And I really think we should continue this discussion inside." Ashino nodded at where Jean was being guided... somewhat forcibly... inside the Kellson home by her mother.
"Not quite yet, young man. I don't know who you are, but this whole thing is too strange for my liking. My children obviously know you, though not in the same fashion. Jean has feelings for you, anyone can see that, but normal boyfriends don't fly up in gigantic war machines. So you're going to satisfactorily explain to me who you are, why you're here and what you want from Jean, or I'll call the police." James Kellson interrupted firmly, arms folded across his chest. Eric fought a strangled cry of dismay, switching his gaze between Ashino, the mobile suit, and his father.
"Dad..."
"Not now, Eric. I'll hear an answer from you, Mr. Ashino, if that's your name." James said adamantly. Ashino sighed in relief... with concrete guidance or specific questions to answer, he was feeling much more confident.
"It's something of a long story, but it starts in Panama, after Carpentaria, like I was saying..."
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"Ashino! Markov! HEY are you listening to me?" Sai's shout brought Ashino out of his reverie. He shook his head a few times and focused his eyes. Sai studied his friend and realized that pretty much the last ten minutes had been a waste of breath on his part... Ashino had been in dream land while Sai blathered on about the thousand and one interesting things about his children. "I'll tell you about it another time maybe. Though you'll be regretting your lack of attention if you have kids someday, adopted or otherwise." Sai watched Ashino zone out again and he cut the call. "Damn it, was I ever that dreamy... guess I was... lucky bastard." Sai mused with a smile.
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"Ash! Hey Ash... over here!" Jean called, waving at him from by the fountain where they had arranged to meet. Ashino waved back, acknowledging that she'd seen him, though he'd actually been watching her for almost fifteen minutes now, just soaking her up with his memory. He only had a few more hours until he was scheduled to fly the Independence out to meet the 1st CAD, which was en route to the Carpentaria area at that moment in preparation for beginning the first phase of the Isolation Plan. He forced himself not to think about that... soon that would be all he would think about and right now he wanted to focus on Jean. As usual she was beautiful, dressed today in a one piece red dress that he thought was very flattering for her figure. Of course he was still learning the basics of style, so his opinion was somewhat suspect, but she never seemed to mind his compliments, a note he had underlined in his notebooks. He made his way past one of the many playground sets that decorated this part of Central Park and approached her.
"My name is Markov Ashino. Preferably Ashino. Not Ash. Thats just a cover name I used in Panama." He told her once they were in easy speaking distance.
"Your name is Ash, as long as you continue to respond to it." Jean replied, hugging him. "And because I say it is."
"And why again is what you say right?" Ashino wondered.
"Because I'm the girl in this relationship."
"I still haven't worked out the logic behind that statement, despite how often you use it." he replied. Still, he couldn't find it in him to argue long. Perhaps that was what she meant, that because she could break down his barriers and resistance so easily, he would have to just accept whatever name she chose for him. Not that he minded, of course... hmm... more contemplation was needed. But that was something to do later. "And you know I don't like calling it a relationship. It implies more than..."
"Shut up and walk with me, Ash/" Jean commanded, linking arms with him. She had to admit, despite his annoying ability to nitpick every bit of word choice she used, he was really good at following orders, though at times she did feel bad taking such a authoritative tone with him. Outside of a dangerous situation, he was very passive and pliant to her desires, something she was working on changing... though not too much. He was very cute as a pliant guy.
"So where are we going today?" Ashino asked after a few minutes of walking along the pathways, just enjoying the afternoon together. "Not the mall again..."
"I don't see what problem you have with the mall. I'm not much of a social butterfly, but even I like to hang out at the mall now and again. Its normal. The done thing."
"I am not normal. Public places still make me very uncomfortable. I'm afraid I'm either going to accidentally hurt someone or break something or cause a scene."
"Oh please. You're the most self controlled guy I know. So what if you can shatter wooden boards with your grip, you've never ever bruised my hand."
"Perhaps so, but I'm far from perfect. And I do get over-protective easily."
"Yes you do, and thats one reason I agreed to spending more time in the park rather than on the streets. Its very endearing and cute, Ash, but just because other guys think I'm pretty does not mean you have to be so... so..."
"Direct?"
"Intimidating." Jean corrected. "Direct would be "Hey, keep your eyes to yourself", while bending the handlebar of his motorcycle upwards ninety degrees is intimidatiing."
"It seems a fine distinction to me. What I wanted to do was bend his forearm up ninety degrees, but I figured you wouldn't appreciate that."
"Well, you're mostly right. Though you do know my dirty little secret about violence." Jean stopped by a park bench and looked around. She couldn't see anyone or hear anyone. Still, she was just a Natural. "Are we alone, Ash?" she watched him cock his head slightly for a few moments, putting to use his unimaginably keen senses. She still was amazed at some of the stuff he could do, like how far he could see and hear, and the sensitivity of his touch and smell. Even his ability to taste was extremely heightened, to the point where it was hard for him to enjoy some kinds of spiced food because he got all the flavors seperately rather than properly mixed.
"There's two people about three hundred feet behind us, but they aren't moving any closer. Probably a pair of lovers in search of some privacy. Other than that, we are alone for any reasonable sense of the wor..." Ashino didn't get to finish his reply before Jean covered his mouth with her own. It wasn't the first time she'd kissed him since he'd flown the Independence to her house. It wasn't even the tenth or twentieth. But still, each time froze him just like the very first, in Panama. It scrambled every bit of his organized mind and left him feeling helpless and confused... but still, he couldn't get enough of the feeling for some reason. Jean finally had to come up for air and she released him. He instantly noticed the moisture in her eyes. "Jean..."
"Don't say anything, Ash. I called your boss and he told me that you're going to be deploying to the front in a few hours. Why didn't you tell me? Don't you trust me? You can answer those." Jean whispered.
"Of course I trust you. More than I trust myself. Which was why... I couldn't figure out how to tell you... Jean, I..."
"Shh. You'll get a chance to apologie and set things right in a bit. Right now, you get to listen to me lecture you. You can shake your head yes or no, but you don't say a word until I say you can, do you understand?" She watched him nod his head. "Good. So, you're going to the front, with your Gundam, right?" Nod. "And you're going to be there for some time, fighting on the front lines?" Nod. "And you're unsure how this makes you feel, taking into account our relationship?" Pause, then eventual nod. "Are you worried about going into battle?" Shake. "Are you worried about me?" Nod. "You're aware that I'm less than happy with the idea of you going into battle, after what happened last time?" Vigorous nod. "But you're going to anyway, because you feel you're obligated to by your friendship with Sai and your duty as Commander of the Mobile Forces?" Pause, then a shrug and nod. "Nothing I say could convince you not to go?" Very long pause, then a slow shake. "Damn it, Ash..."
"I wish I could have given you the answer you wanted, Jean. But I won't lie to you." Ashino said softly.
"Didn't say you could talk..." Jean protested weakly, tears in her eyes.
"Shh yourself. You tell me to be assertive in our relationship, so I will be." Ashino replied. "I am more than aware that you don't like the idea of me fighting, that the thought of me in the midst of a battle is painful to you... and anything painful to you is doubly painful to me. But I can't ignore my responsibilty towards making the world a better place. If I didn't go, and something happened to the people under my command, including your brother, whom I'm sure you also tried to get not to go, I would not be able to handle that personal disappointment. It would be the end of me, and the end of our relationship, which I truly do not want. I'm not comfortable with the idea of love, not being a BCPU. But with your help I think I'll eventually be able to learn to be comfortable with it."
"So why fight then? I know you're good, I've talked with Eric after he did his simulator training against you and he's positively scared of you... but... still..."
"Worry is natural. Thats what Cyprus told me and it makes sense. When you value someone, you will worry about them when they are in danger, theres just no helping it. That you worry about me means so much to me I cannot express it. The concern Sai and Vanai and the other friends of mine have for me is one thing, but your worry is on an entirely different level. Your worry makes me want to be back here already, walking in the park with you. For someone like me, designed to be a weapon against Coordinators, I think thats a significant step in the right direction, don't you?"
"I'm supposed to be the one reassuring you..." Jean said quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"No, that I believe is the job of the guy in the relationship, isn't it?" Ashino said with a smile. When she tilted her head up to kiss him again, he actually initiated it this time.
"I think you have better things to do than talk..."
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"This is frustrating. They've completely dropped off the networks. I wish they'd stop hiding on the Moon and get back into the thick of things. I expected more from Lacus Clyne." Noah sighed in boredom and frustration, his mind a thousand miles away while his hands constantly moved, putting together yet another robotic friend. Ever since he'd successfully built the pink replacement Haro, building his own menagerie of robotic pets had become something of a downtime hobby for him, when he wasn't working on more serious projects, like Mobile Suits or Nanotech. Most of them were just normal robots, with interactive personality chips he programmed himself that made them act surprisngly lifelike, such as the unit he was building right now, which he'd already named Merlin. Merlin was a dodecahedron, a hundred sided figure, about eight inches in diameter. He was far more than just a cosmetic pet like a Haro though, he was actually an extremely sophisticated anti-espionage and data storage/display mechanism, which would just incidentally have the ability to move about on its own. With an anti-gravity motor quite a bit more powerful than the one Haro used to bounce, Merlin could float about as Noah pleased, anywhere from two to twenty feet off the ground.
Once he was done with Merlin, if he still had time to kill before his next scheduled project, he'd work more on his two pride and joys, twin dragons he called Phlegethion and Aether. Each was, or would be, the size of a large dog, maybe two feet tall at the shoulder, with a four foot long body, two foot neck and four foot tail, with a wingspan of slightly more than seven feet. These machines would be far more than just pets, he was building himself a pair of bodyguards that would never sleep and never waver in the pursuit of their duties. Each machine would probably end up costing as much to produce as an Elemental class mobile suit, but he was glad to pay the cost. He was going to have enemies, narrow minded people who would refuse to see the good he was doing... he would need protection, protection that couldn't be bribed or gassed or fooled. Protection that was absolutely loyal to him and him alone, but was still able to think, plan and improvise to accomplish its missions. He was already cultivating a likely pair of girls to serve as control circuits for his dragons, now that he knew what to expect from the imprinting process.
Thinking about memory imprinting led his mind to thinking about the Pulsar. It was an unfortunate sitatution, that Uncle Borander had succumbed to the NIC flaw right in the middle of a battle, but at least he'd managed to get a wealth of information on his Uncle's fighting habits, more than enough to use as the kernel for the AI combat systems he was developing for eventual use with his own mobile suit. Still, he wasn't comfortable with the thought of the Pulsar and all its technology being in the hands of other people, even if it was likely to be the Clyne Faction. Noah was surprised no one else had yet figured out who had likely recovered the Pulsar, but then again no one else knew that it was likely to have started drifting, pilotless, across the path the Clyne Faction had taken to the Moon. Currently ZAFT was calling the machine MIA, likely destroyed, which was far from the truth, but Noah had no plans of disabusing them of that idea. The idea of being able to get battle data from someone like Kira Yamato or Athrun Zala was just too precious a resource to waste.
Noah was confident he'd get the data eventually... there was no way the Clyne Faction wouldn't eventually use the Pulsar, if only to try and figure out some of the technologies. Though they would likely be cautious, since they would have seen what happened to Jeremiah. Noah shrugged and shelved that line of thought for the moment. Of much bigger concern was the situation with ZAFT and the Alliance. The big thrust against the Moon had failed, partly due to the loss of the Pulsar, but mostly because of the sudden appearance on the field of many new types of Alliance technology, something even he hadn't anticipated quite so soon. President Argyle was more capable than he seemed, since his R and D labs were not among the networks Noah was tapped into. Yet. It was just a matter of time though, and then Noah would strip everything of value from the Natural's work and then improve it a dozen times over and incorporate it into his own designs. He was especially interested in the laser weaponry that had penetrated the Positron Shields so easily.
And now the deadline for Argyle's so called Isolation Plan was almost up. Noah had read a summary of General Dumand's report to the Supreme Council, courtesy of his bug on Durandal's new computer. Of course no one in the PLANTS or ZAFT had taken the whole Isolation Plan seriously, until now, chalking it up as political posturing. Well, now everyone was panicking, because there were major Alliance task forces on approach to all terrestrial ZAFT holdings, all with the same message... "get out now or we'll kick you out". Something that seemed well within the power of the Alliance to do, with their new technology and superior numbers. Reinforcements were en route, but many were dubious as to the worth of sending them at all, because ZAFT could not afford any losses at the moment. Troop levels were down into the red zone, nearing the point of unavailability. Noah had briefly contemplated offering the use of some of his more developed designs, but in the end he decided to let things play out a bit more. He'd swoop in and save the day if he had to, but he'd really prefer not to tip his hand for several more years if he could at all avoid it.
A light blinked on a nearby computer console. Noah flicked a switch, which activated a voice scrambler and the comm line at the same time. "Speak." he ordered, soldering several of Merlin's terabyte level memory chips into place.
"Sir, this is your lunar reclaimation team. We've reached the target zone undetected, though there is something of an Alliance presence that will slow our analysis work. We've already begun the initial survey, and we should be able to recover a significant amount of material, more than enough to meet your specifications." the man reported.
"I see. I'll do what I can to minimize the ability of the Alliance to interfere. Take your time and do the job right. No witnesses. For the Brotherhood." Noah replied.
"For the Brotherhood." the man echoed, fervor and pride in his voice. Noah smiled as he flicked off the comm line. "The Brotherhood" was one of several names he used for his clandestine organization of mercenaries, traitors, dissidents and other radicals, none of whom had any real idea who was calling the shots, except for his inner circle of subordinates, people like Jean Dylan and Aireg Randolf. There were more now... Mary O'Brien, freshly recovered from the extensive injuries she suffered during Purgatory Day, though she was still incapable of any vocal noise other than a hoarse shriek. Craydon Thresher too, and what a piece of work he was. Uncle Franklin sure did have some interesting ideas, several of which Noah was now furthering research on. Though little more than a ravaged torso and head, Thresher still lived and even thought, though only a Newtype would have been able to discern that. It was nowhere near as fun cultivating Thresher's mind as it was his girls, but it was far easier. The BCPU was designed to be dependent on an authority figure, and all Noah had to do was assume the identity of that person, in this case his Uncle Franklin, and Thresher would do whatever he asked in an almost pathetic manner. It was annoying to be called Doc all the time though.
Another call came in and he answered it just like the first. "Sir, I have a report on the activities of the group calling themselves Tiamat." the agent, a middle aged female, said teresly. Noah deduced that she was extremely excited, which meant the information was either exclusive or of ground shattering importance. Likely the former, and he could guess what it was anyway, now that he thought about it.
"You know where they're going to attack. It'll be New New York City, won't it?" Noah said calmly. There was silence on the line.
"How did you know, sir? Theres barely ten people on Earth that know this, even most of Tiamat doesn't know." She sounded both frustrated and awestruck. Noah smirked, since that was the impression he always worked hard to give.
"How I know is little concern of yours, though it is a simple matter of logic. Do you have details?"
"Yes, sir. With most of the Alliance's strength and attention focused on their three pronged assault on ZAFT, Asmodeus figures that security around the President will be weakened. The governmental bunkers under New New York City are strong, but Tiamat has managed to obtain a supply of nerve gas. They'll go in with mobile suits, they have nearly twenty Crusaders now, mostly piloted by those BCPU things that Frost leads. Meanwhile Asmodeus will lead an infiltration of the bunkers with a team of his Hellhound and MAGOS defectors, they'll be the ones with the gas. Casualties and collateral damage will be maximized, and they won't stop until the President and his entire command staff are dead. It's almost like they want the PLANTS to have an advantage again, but given who it is..."
"They're insane. Figuring out their motives is impossible. Thank you for your work, and any further information, such as an exact date or time, will be welcomed. For the Brotherhood."
"For the Brotherhood."
"So... you're going to try and further the chaos, hmm, Asmodeus?" Noah said to the empty room after cutting off the comm line again. "Well, I don't care if you do... but I think you may be in for something of a surprise." Noah flicked his gaze over to a computer screen, which showed some of the data he'd just recently gotten from his data sifting programs on Earth. A re-arrangement of the Earth to Moon personnel shuttle schedules. A launch slated to bring vital medical supplies up had been delayed to allow a shipment of "soft goods", which was cargo parlance for people. Very few people in the Alliance had the pull needed to make last minute adjustments to shuttle schedules, especially onses carrying vital supplies. Someone very important wanted to get to the Moon, soon. He had a very good idea who that someone likely was. What confirmed his idea even more was an unscheduled trip by several Supreme Council members and their aides, including Durandal, which was also going to the Moon, soon. Someone had set up some talks, very quietly. Noah was impressed, because he'd thought he'd tapped all methods of communication with the Supreme Council, but apparently there were still one or two routes for information to flow privately. Probably by hand delivering messages written on paper.
"I wonder what you're going to do, Lacus? Are you behind this peace negotiation... no, that can't be it. But you know about it, don't you? Yes, of course you do. And you're going to do whatever you can to influence President Argyle and the Supreme Council members. You might even be successful, if Argyle is willing to compromise his Isolation Plan. Do I want that... hmm... no. Not yet. I think it might be prudent of me to visit old Luna as well. After all, it would hardly be fair to let you use your powers unchallenged. I'll let you win when the time is right, but the mix isn't quite right yet. Oh look, I've gone and finished him already. Hello, Merlin."
"Hello, Noah... did you know..." the machine soon began a litany of all the knowledge that Noah had put into him, which was enough to bore even a mind as expansive as his.
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