My Soldier, My Savior

by WDCain Man

Among the scars of war, love can still bloom. Take my hand, angel. I will be with you. Always.

3. The Value of Trust

A Gundam SeeD fanfic – My Soldier, My Savior
First Draft by WDCain

Edited and Reworked by Spiritblade

Disclaimer: Gundam SEED isn't mine but I really wish it were. Could you imagine the possibilities? The enjoyment would be endless.

Greetings friends, WDCain is here to give you another chapter of the first full-length Kira/Natarle fanfic out there on the web. It's nice to get another chapter of this fanfic pumped out for the fans. I'll be honest and say MSMS is the best writing I've ever been a part of, though I admit that it is also the most challenging project I have ever taken in the fanfic profession. Not only do I have to carefully bring in the fantasy in this show, much like Star Wars, but I must keep it within the realm of reality. I always believed that the Star Wars series could have been done strictly in a magic/fantasy world like Tolkien's work and still work. I would like to think that this story could as well.

I'll be honest and say if it weren't for Spiritblade, you would be reading something totally different. Yet I am most proud of this story, which isn't surprising because it really is a spectacular story. Now the story I find the most fun writing would be either "Green With Evil" and "NGE Theater" because I can do whatever the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks I want. But I personally think that if we make things tougher on us, we do better.

XXXXXXX
My Soldier, My Savior

Chapter Three:

The Value of Trust

XXXXXXX

When one is suffering or drowning in sorrow, they yearn to be pulled free from the hell they find themselves in. Saviors lift us up from darkness and bring us towards the light. They need not be flesh and blood but of thoughts and dreams. They teach us to overcome the pain. They teach us to look towards a brighter future, even though they cannot heal the scars left behind. Those scars will remain for as long as the individual lives, proof that he or she has been tested. But when the causes of those scars are made known, when the burden that gouged those scars into the body and soul of the individual are shared, good things can happen.

A bond is forged, a new road shown. An eternity promised. All this Kira Yamato saw when he stroked the cheek of Natarle Badgiruel. But those who are made blind by their hatred and fury can never grasp that hand which is extended to them. Those who would deceive their saviors for material gain will find their rewards to be a bitter one. Natarle had taken the teenager into her arms, hoping to soothe the pain he was forced to endure in order to protect the Archangel and her crew. In that one moment of passion, she forgot everything Vice-Minister George Allster had told her. She felt free…and blessed. And yet, had she known that her actions would have reaped a bitter harvest, the dark-haired officer would have not done what she had.

But loyalty was an instrument often used by the mighty to control those beneath them – and many of these princes of the Earth were far from unskilled in its use. George Allster had outlined his plan to the young officer on how he planned to end the war and the reasons why its prolongation was detrimental to the Earth Sphere as a whole. And Natarle, loyal soldier that she was, born to a military family that had served in the EA Armed Forces for generations, did what she thought was right. If ZAFT and the PLANTs saw that the EA had the strength to fight its elite pilots and soldiers, it would be easier to bring them to the negotiation table and topple the hardliners on both the PLANTs and on Earth from power.

While the Vice-Minister's methods left much to be desired, in that it forced her to take advantage of his emotional instability brought about by Kira's killing his childhood friend, it was a small sacrifice in the face of the many that were – and are – being made across the battlefields of the Earth Sphere. But even the best laid plans could go awry. The moment the young Coordinator had run a hand across her face, Natarle felt desire sink her fangs deep. And she drank deep of the chalice she had denied herself for the two and a half decades she had been alive. It made her wonder why she had never done what most other girls did. Had she done so, she would have been more like Murrue and less of the embodiment of the ideal her family had wanted her to become. They were proud of her when she was promoted to the rank of lieutenant and was given a place aboard the EA's newest Archangel-class battleship as its First Officer. The ship was built in utter secrecy on Heliopolis as part of the G-Project set up by Admiral Halberton of the 8th Fleet. And it was on that colony that she would meet the last person she would ever expect to help turn the tide of the year-long bitter struggle between Earth and the PLANTs. She would never forget the shock she had felt when the same individual she had met only hours before descended from the cockpit of the Strike, the only G-Weapon (out of five) that had yet to be captured by ZAFT's elite strike teams. Nor would she forget the way her hand had reached for her gun when the Eagle of Endymion deduced that the boy who was more than half his age was a Coordinator. Had Major la Flaga not been in the way, she would have shot Kira Yamato then and there. Even if he was a citizen of a neutral country, he had one foot in the door of the enemy camp. Marry those reasons to the fact that he had seen and piloted a top-secret military weapon only strengthened her decision to shoot him.

Natarle had argued with Murrue and Mwu la Flaga over their decision to entrust the Strike to the young Coordinator. Better than the blonde ace try to pilot the experimental weapon than let a potential traitor do so. The Eagle of Endymion shot her idea down within seconds, claiming that the OS on the Mobile Suit was beyond his ability to master or control. Reality would teach Natarle that it cared little for what she and a million others like her believed or were taught.

The dark-haired officer had to give her blonde counterpart credit for being right about one thing: life loved screwing them over. She chuckled inwardly as she looked up at Kira Yamato, whose violet eyes made her blood run hot with reckless abandon. Never mind the fact that the puritans back on Earth would crucify her for thinking thus, but she looked forward to what was to come. Natarle wondered why many of the girls in his school had not made Kira their boyfriend. Bashful and kind, he would have been an attentive and caring lover.

"Kira…"

The teenager smiled as he kissed the older woman, who shivered at the tenderness of the gesture. It took Natarle a full minute to muster the will to break the kiss and push the teenager onto the bed. The latter's violet eyes widened in confusion, and he opened his mouth to speak. The dark-haired Earth Alliance officer put a finger on his lips, a saucy grin on her lips, "Just lie back and watch, Kira. I want you to enjoy this…"

She took a step back from the bed and unbuttoned her uniform's jacket, allowing it to slide off her shoulders. Beneath it, she wore a tight, dark grey military issue undershirt that clung to the lithe contours of her body like a second skin. Kira stared at the woman before him, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Natarle, for her part, felt embarrassed, yet thrilled as she continued to strip before the young man before her. She unzipped her skirt and pushed them down, revealing the panties she wore beneath. Now almost nude, Kira saw a whisper of Natarle's physical glory. Her body was lean and strong, hardened by the harsh training in the EA's military academies. She reminded Kira of a leopard, and those playful purple eyes that she fastened him with made her almost feline in its mischief.

So entranced was he by the sight that the young man did not notice the data-pad on his bed, and brushed it to the floor. He did not know that Natarle had brought the device with her, intending to use it at the very moment when he was unable to think clearly. But duty and country were the last things on Natarle's mind. All she could see was the young man staring at her in worshipful awe, and the promise of what was about to happen. The dark-haired Earth Alliance officer turned slowly allowing her young lover to see that which he would soon touch, before removing the tight shirt she wore from her body. She heard Kira draw in a deep breath as he ran his eyes over her body. She slid one leg on the bed-frame, causing him to exhale, her eyes an inferno of desire.

"Take it off, Kira," the woman whispered huskily, indicating the hip-high, black nylon stockings female Alliance officers wore as part of their uniform. It took a while for Kira to respond. He was mesmerized by the subtle curves of Natarle's thighs and the juncture that they led to. Gently, almost reverently, he placed his hands on the bands that secured the stocking to her leg, before pulling it down past her hip and calf. Natarle kicked it off and lowered her before the young Coordinator could touch it. The nervous look in his eyes made the older woman realize that he was terrified of her rejection.

She lifted the other leg, "Now this one…"

The look of quiet joy and furious desire in his eyes made Natarle's heart-rate skyrocket. Kira pulled the second stocking from her leg and when he was done Natarle stood before him naked save for her panties.

When his fingertips brushed against the bare skin of her leg, Natarle shivered. Kira trembled, his mind whispering softly that what he was looking upon was the one thing that he could only see in a fantasy. Natarle took another step back, swaying her body as she did so. She reached down and removed that final piece of clothing, allowing Kira to finally gaze upon her in all her glory.

It was a glorious sight, and his eyes ran over the full, yet firm, breasts to the lithe figure down to the dark-haired juncture between her thighs. She strode towards him, pushing Kira down onto the bed. The gentle Coordinator did not resist, wanting to taste his lover and feel her. Natarle was nothing like those women in the porn magazines that Tolle had often shown him. She was beautiful, yes, but that beauty was enhanced by the fierce sheen of health of her skin and the strength that training could give it. To Kira, Natarle was more real than those women. The scent of her skin was primal, awakening a latent urge to worship her for all the qualities that all women possessed. The soft, passionate moans she whispered that left her lips revealed the femininity that many thought absent. The touch of her fingers spoke of tenderness, her ability to give pleasure and soothe pain, which compelled Kira to kiss the nape of her neck.

And even as Kira did all this, Natarle's hands divested the young Coordinator of all his clothing. It did not take long, and Natarle soon found herself studying the athletic frame of her young lover in approval. Healthy, strong and virile, one part of her whispered playfully, her favorite kind! Kira, for his part, froze briefly when he realized that Natarle's body boasted wounds that had yet to heal, a testament of the life she led. It served to remind him that the woman he was holding in his arms was mortal…flawed, yet perfect. Natarle was not a flawless, porcelain doll, but a real person who had lived through horrors that life was capable of bringing to bear on those who least deserved it.

The next kiss that she graced him was intoxicating, and Kira felt his erect member press against her loins, seeking out that opening which promised pleasure and fulfillment. Natarle smiled, capturing in her mind that glow of starlight that burned in Kira's eyes, enshrining it in her memory for all eternity.

"Now…Kira, make me yours…"

XXXXXXX

When a rock strikes the surface of a calm pond, ripples are formed. On its clear surface on a starlit night, those same ripples touch the stars that are reflected upon it.

The first star blazes silver; the bright shining light that knows of evil and rejects it. The Star Princess mourns as she feels the Knight brought low by an evil which hungers to claim the latter as its own. For all the light she radiates, she could not pierce the darkness that had shrouded the Knight in its embrace.

The second star blazes across the heavens like a fiery sword, a meteor that does not die nor dim. The Sword Maiden clenches her fist as her ears catch the distant sound of a sword shattering. She could not run to his aid, not while the battle she fights prevents her from doing so.

And finally, the crimson star glimmers like shed tears as the Fiery Maiden sobs in the sky. For though flawed and selfish, the Knight has shown her a way home, paying the toll that was demanded of him willingly. Now that Knight fades away in the distance, and she watches him disappear.

And into the strong arms and soft, velvet wings of a treacherous Valkyrie does he fade.

XXXXXXX

Lieutenant Natarle Badgiruel woke several hours later, her body numb and warm with the experience of having been touched in a fashion that spoke of a surrender of body and soul. Her womb was drenched in Kira's seed, and its warmth spread sensuous tendrils through her body that caused her to shiver in ecstasy. She rose from the bed, her eyes falling on the data-pad that laid on the ground. Kira's thumb-print was prominent on it.

Mission accomplished.

Her stomach clenched as she realized the consequences of her actions, and it twisted as an inner voice praised her on a job well done. Unable to stay in the same room and gazing upon her slumbering lover without her conscience screaming in outrage, Natarle dressed quickly and left a room they will never share again. The first step she took out of that room would write a chapter of a betrayal of a young man who did not deserve such treachery.

XXXXXXX

The Fates are never loyal, treacherous to the end. They abandon all they stood by to be with their enemies before leaving both in bloody ruin. Peasant and King alike, all serve as mere pawns, all praying to uncaring deities that they will be given a small shred of mercy from those that have none. Both sides of the war believed that the war would not last long. The soldiers of the Earth Alliance believed that with their superior numbers would allow them to win the war, while the Coordinators believed that their superior war-weapons and enhanced abilities would bring them victory. Each felt favored by Fate.

Pages were written of each army's victory yet no book was devoted to one nation. Each page differed from the next, each victory belonging to the one vanquished before. The words on the book were written in the blood of the defeated, staining the crisp milk-white pages fabricated from the skin and bones of those had had failed to protect. One nation's victory would add another new chapter of strife to a book already made heavy by the actions of those who were mighty, yet lacking in foresight and wisdom. This vicious cycle would continue until one side broke the stalemate. And the instruments by which it would be done were completed when the PLANTs were taking the first steps to winning the war. Five swords were made, each one's power dwarfing all others forged before. Four were seized by the Coordinators, while the fifth was given unto one who had no wish to bestride the battlefield like the giant he was slowly becoming. The Fates laughed; they saw the irony and terrible beauty of an innocent being baptized in blood and fire, and bestow upon him power that thousands before him had prayed for over the countless millennia.

'Let the galaxy burn,' they spoke as one.

Patrick Zala, ZAFT's Supreme Commander, emptied the cup of water in one swallow before pouring himself another, remembering the stories told to him by the dark-haired, amber-eyed Natural teacher whose knowledge and insight surpassed his Coordinator protégés by far. 'War is a merciless beast without mercy. Woe unto those who believe themselves capable of mastering this Beast, for it refuses to be mastered, let alone shackled,' his teacher's voice echoed in the dusty corridors of his memory, 'You who would become Princes of the Earth must never forget this, lest you condemn your own flesh and blood to the pyre.'

How right his teacher had been. Patrick could almost see the latter staring at him from the dark corners of the room, his lips curved in a sardonic smile. You, that smile spoke, brought this upon yourself. And again, that demon was right. The last twenty-four hours had taken a visible toll on the ZAFT Supreme Commander. For the first time in a long time, the unflappable Iron Duke, as Patrick was known on both the PLANTs and on Earth, was a shadow of his former self. Managing and directing ZAFT was a heavy burden, but one that Patrick bore willingly and with pride. Not only was he fighting to protect his proud and noble people, but also to avenge his wife, who had died in the Junius-7 Massacre. Their marriage was far from perfect. His family's retainers knew how often he and Lenore quarreled about his inability to separate his professional from his personal life. They would always end with them sleeping in separate rooms.

The day he lost his wife in the nucleonic fires that destroyed Junius-7 was one Patrick would forever regret. He had been on Janurarius for an important meeting with several government officials when Lenore called in. His wife demanded to know why she had been left alone on the colony when he had promised that he would join her on their vacation. He tried to explain that the meeting he had been asked to attend had been an important one, and that missing it or sending someone to take his place was out of the question. His wife had ended the call with a dismissive snort, "You have never changed, Zala. Your work comes before your family."

Twenty minutes later he received a telegram from the Ministry of Defense that would change his life forever. And with it came a thousand questions, none of which had easy answers. Why did he fight with her when they had so little time together? Why did he never take the time to love her as any man would his wife? Why did he allow his son to serve in the military?

When he and Prime Minister Siegel Clyne arrived on the Vesalius an hour ago, they were both greeted with the sight of the children. Siegel gave his daughter a hug while Patrick Zala could only stroke his dead son's pale skin as he lay in his coffin. It had been hard for Patrick to believe that his son's childhood friend had been the one to land the killing blow.

"The playing field has changed, Patrick," Siegel spoke quietly from across the table, "It is time we ended the war before it is too late."

Patrick Zala, Supreme Commander of ZAFT, looked up from the table. There were only three people in the room: himself, Siegel and Athrun's commander, Rau le Creuset. Holographic screens hovered over the empty seats, each bearing within its confines a face belonging to a member of the Supreme Council.

"End the war? Making peace with those monkeys is a mistake we will not live to make a second time!" the voice of Ludwig von Rhymer, who was the Director-General of the largest banking conglomerate and who held the position of Minister of Trade and Commerce on the Council, was rich with scorn. Siegel regarded the golden-haired man coolly. Despite the latter's beliefs, his abilities were not to be questioned. Ludwig had kept the economy of the PLANTs running in a way that made him the envy of his peers both on the colonies and on Earth.

"Ludwig my friend, what you say makes no sense. Please do not allow your anger to cloud your wise judgment." This came from Secretary of Administration Judea Muhammad, the lovely dark-skinned and haired Minister of the Interior, "Have you seen our losses from the last three months? Commander Crueset's Bloodhawk Elites have been all but massacred."

Rau le Crueset bowed his head slightly to Judea's vid-screen. "I do apologize for all that has transpired, Secretary Judea, especially in regards to Major Athrun's death and Lieutenant Joule's…erratic behavior."

"Has that little traitor been executed yet?" the gravelly voice of Grand Adm. Joseph Lebbowitz, Commander of the First Fleet, held in its timbre a tightly-chained thunderstorm. A master of war in all its forms, the grizzled admiral was a staunch supporter of the Clyne family. What Yzak had done had shaken him badly, considering that the son of Eliza Joule was not one given to rash acts despite his temper. He fired a look at the silver-haired senator, who refused to meet his eyes.

"We will deal with young Yzak in a fair and impartial manner, sir," Rau replied, "And need I point out that Pilot Joule is not a traitor. The only things he can be charged with are disobedience and reckless endangerment of a head of state – and the second can be debated over how much true power Princess Clyne possesses." For a brief moment, several of the men present glared at the masked Bloodhawk Elite commander. "Pilot Joule's only true crime is starting a fight that we would not allow him to finish."

"I still support hanging him," the First Fleet Commander repeated, "Even though the Prime Minister's daughter was not injured, Pilot Joule still lost the Duel to the EA. Good Lord! Can you all imagine the trouble we'll face if the EA managed to mass produce it? It would take full dozen GINNs to destroy it." His face turned to near-murder. "Siegel, Yzak not only endangered your daughter but he has hindered the entire war effort! He MUST be hanged!"

"Public execution is a savage's way." Siegel replied, "Coordinators: Humans with greater genetics and superior intellects compared to unaltered humanity." he stared down Grand Admiral Lebbowitz, "Superior. Intellects. We do not kill for vengeance or engage in genocidal slaughter or torture prisoners in hatred. We are better and so we must show mercy. It is time for peace talks."

On another vid-screen, a gorgeous young woman of Africa cupped her delicate chin. Her raven hair was knotted into a bun. She was dressed in a form-fitting snow-white pantsuit that did not hide her curves at all. "Besides Admiral, the EA does not have the financial resources to mass-produce perfect replicas of a G-Weapon on a large scale," she spoke with a deep and exotic accent. "I've noticed the EA industrialists have been buying large quantities of resources to mass-produce less advance versions of their Mobile Suits. My advisors believe they would on equal level with the GINNs."

The woman was Ororo Tutsi, an entrepreneur whose holdings extend from industry and arms-construction to medicine and pharmaceuticals. Currently she accounted for almost 25% of the economy of the PLANTs. Her financial marksmanship was so keen and precise; she practically sent economy of the EA reeling with her brinkmanship. It was a growing belief in the ZAFT Council that, while the Blue Cosmos launched the nuclear salvos upon Junius-7, economic factions within the Earth Alliance armed them with the bombs in an attempt to cripple the ZAFT economy.

The African woman sipped from a cup of exotic flavored coffee, "What we should be worried about is what if ORB aids them in the construction of more G-WEAPONS. You do realize it was ORB that drafted the blueprints for those five unique Mobile Suits, correct?"

Ludwig Von Rhymer nodded almost vigorously, "Yes it makes perfect sense. It's beyond the Naturals' abilities to design such powerful Mobile Suits. The EA must have made some back scratching with ORB so their Coordinator engineers would design the G-Weapons. It's the only way those savages could build such powerful weaponry."

"Publicly ORB has maintained its neutrality." Supreme Commander Patrick Zala spoke, his reason-sounding tone dulled. "The monarchy has outlawed several extremist political parties such as the Blue Cosmos from performing publicly. Backroom talks…have made some progress. ORB has stated they will offer the EA no more support if we remove several divisions away from the UAE, though they will not hold it against us if we deploy soldiers to dispose of guerrillas in the surrounding areas."

"Indeed, this raises a unique opportunity if we play our cards correctly," stated the Director of the National Organization for Information and Strategic Espionage, Kotaro Yi-Chan. A bald Chinese man without a single hair on his face dressed in a jet-black suit that matched his visor-like sunglasses which wrapped across his temple like a robber's mask. His cold demeanor and rigid movements made him appear almost mechanical. NOISE was in charged of intelligence acquiring and covert operations that were not told to the public. It was during one of their operations that they learned that Heliopolis was housing EA military bases for the construction of Mobile Suits. "Relations between ORB and the EA have been strained due to the loss of the colony because of their decision to their acceptance of the EA military base. That has offered us an advantage."

Secretary Judea Muhammad nodded her delicate features. "It does complicate the situation. If more pro-war supporters or, the stars help us, Blue Cosmos members get elected to the EA Parliament then there is no way we could negotiate any type of peace settlement. Currently we've steadily been gaining ground on Earth but those Blue Cosmos fanatics are more than willing to bankrupt the EA just to build more Mobile Suits. And the Naturals do outnumber us."

"Remember: The EA elections will not only affect our politics but that of ORB's as well. More extremists in the Naturals' government would lead to bills that would damage ORB due to their support of their Coordinator citizens." Director Yi-Chan's demeanor never changed. "And that could lead them into allying with us against the Naturals. It may be in our best interests if Blue Cosmos wins the elections just to forge an alliance between ORB and ourselves."

The Minister of Trade nodded after a brief moment of consideration, "That would lessen the strain munitions development has placed upon the economy. With ORB's aid we could develop a fleet equal to that of the EA's in months instead of years."

Admiral Lebbowitz smiled craftily. "Our equal numbers and technological superiority would crush the EA. We could win this war before the year ends."

"You are wrong, Admiral," Madam Tutsi spoke nonchalantly. PLANT and EA's industry have become militarized. It would take ORB several months before theirs would be as so. At most they could only mass-produce general Mobile Suits and not hundreds of G-Weapons as you dream of. Victory would come not now but later." She ignored the admiral's angry glare and continued. "Regardless, I wasn't going to bring this up but with the loss of the Aegis and Duel, I feel we should postpone development of Justice and Providence for a more…devastating G-Weapon. Its function, simply put, is to kill. On a LARGE scale."

Rau le Crueset examined the African beauty. "And what are you calling this genocidal Suit?"

"Holocaust."

Rau allowed himself to smile.

XXXXXXX

An EA shuttle had entered the Archangel's hanger. It was becoming more an occurrence that Chief Engineer Murdoch was taken aback when he noticed the majority of his grease monkeys crowding around it.

"Okay, grease spots! Why aren't you working! Those replacement parts aren't going to put themselves in! It better be a damn good reason you're all standing around gawking like castrated chickens! Spill the beans!"

"Sa-Sir! Eh-it's the Duel's new pilot!" the mechanic stammered like a newbie. "The Duel's pilot's here!"

Murdoch almost slugged him. "Big flipping deal! His machine's still a heap of scrap and he doesn't need you mudholes crowding him for an autograph! Now get your rears in gear and DO YOUR JOB!"

"Sir! You don't understand! It's Corporal Valentine! The nastiest killing machine right behind Kira and Major la Flaga! Do you know how many he's killed at the Battle of Edington?! This psycho's a living, breathing killer! We give him the soulless monster called Duel, space will be filled with corpses!"

"YEAH! Why else do you think the nickname the 'Genocide Valentine' came from anyway! It's cuz this evil fugger has killed more people than cancer!"

Rumors started flying left and right. Murdoch was getting whiplash looking back and forth between each screamer.

"I heard the reason why Valentine's still a corporal is because the generals realized they were dealing with someone way too crazy to be given any real authority in the army!"

"I heard it's because the Genocide Valentine killed an EA general because the man ordered the psycho to get a haircut!"

"I heard that some Senator's son just upped and disappeared" the one did air-quotes "because the kid badmouthed Corp. Valentine to his face!"

"IT'S ALL TRUE!" Another mechanic blurted "Massacre after massacre! We'll be helping a murder machine if we set 'em up with the Duel!"

"GOD HAS ABADONED US FOR LETTING SATAN'S SWORD JOIN OUR CREW!"

"Did you see the kill score from the Battle of Benagal? The maniac took down so many ZAFTies that their brass completely pulled out of South Africa just to avoid the Ace?"

"They had to deforest an entire jungle to make enough coffins after that massacre!"

Murdoch slapped his forehead. "THAT'S JUST A WISETALE, WISEASS!" Then he had to bite his tongue from letting slip that it was just half the jungle. He was on another ship there when that battle went down. Watching that Core Fighter shoot down PLANT craft one after another after another was like watching Kira's vicious side, if he even had one. "All that matters is we make sure the G-Weapons are ready every time." He pumped his fist into the air. "Now let's go greet this butcher!"

The shuttle docked, leading to the crowd growing eerily quiet. As its hanger doors opened, everyone took a step back, expecting the worst to step out. The metal slid, revealing the shadows inside. All the mechanics, including Murdoch, took some steps back to prepare to flee from the Godless horror about to embark on the Archangel.

"HOWDY Y'ALL! CORPORAL LYDIA VALENTINE REPORTING IN!"

A Texas cowgirl. God help them.

She fit the model to a 'T'. Fire colored freckles that match the beautiful golden blond ponytail that fell down her back. A healthy young Texan lass, she filled out her uniform very nicely; not that she didn't add her own personal touches. They included a ten gallon cowboy made from real hide, barbed burrs attached to the heels of her boots, and a giant gold sheriff star over her right breast. And what a set she had! Hers were even larger than Capt. Ramius!

She flashed the pitcrew a big ol' grin. "Now, can any of y'all tell me which ways the Captain? I gots to give 'em my transfer papers!"

Murdoch numbly pointed at the exit door on a catwalk above.

"Golly jee thank ya! I just can't wait to ride the saddle you all's building for little ol' me!" Lydia leapt up through the zero-Gs to the high catwalk, giving the pitcrew an amazing glance of what massive mammaries look like in zero gravity.

XXXXXXX

Kira slowly stirred awake, feeling more whole then he had in the last three months. Naked and covered only by the grey blanket in all the bunkers aboard the Archangel, he felt the empty space Natarle had left behind. Yet he did not feel ashamed that she had left.

Natarle's most prominent trait was her sense to duty. He knew that she had duties to perform as the Archangel changed shifts. She had to aid Captain Murrue in arranging and performing the daily chores it takes to manage a battlecruiser.

She would return to him soon.

Kira gave a dreamy smile. He was in love.

A shy boy, he never could flirt with girls as Tolle would often do to evoke a growl from Mirallia. Nor could he write letters of poetic wonders as Sai would when he wooed to Fllay. He even lacked the initiative to watch or read those grandiose materials that portrayed physically exaggerated women as Kuzzey did when no one looked.

Kira simply lacked the drive to pursue a woman as his friends could. There had only been three women that had made an impression upon him before he found Natarle.

The first, he is guilty to admit, was Fllay Allster, the fiancée to his friend Sai. As Kira was shy, Fllay was determined. She always knew what she wanted and would not settle for leftovers. She had a confidence that drew people to her and knew it. Not greedy, simply tenacious: She would never give up or let go.

The second was the gentle Coordinator princess, Lacus Clyne. Though he has only known her for less then three days, he had never met such a gentle and caring soul. She loved all and cared nothing about small differences. If there was ever a woman who could end all prejudice, it was her. She would never allow hatred to last.

And the third was the golden-haired, tawny-eyed girl he had met prior to the destruction of Heliopolis. Though he had only known her for moments, Kira was struck by her sheer courage and conviction. She was horrified that the G-Weapons were being constructed. She desired peace but would fight against war. She was like him: She wanted peace.

Giving his heart to Natarle made Kira realized how much he needed love, how much it was a vital part to life. Natarle gave that to him. For that he would always be grateful.

He just wished that Athrun was still alive so he could tell him.

Athrun.

Kira had always believed that when he would marry, Athrun would serve as his best man as he would for him. They would watch over the other's children.

Now that would never be.

Kira would never wash his hands of his blood, but as Natarle had told him what mattered was that Kira must never lose fail those he care for. If he gave into the despair, he would. Natarle had shown him that.

As long as he fought to protect those he cares for, Athrun would smile from his place among the stars.

XXXXXXX

All Yzak saw when he looked at the stars was his own shame. He was locked in a cold metal cell with a bunk and a window into space. There was no light save from the stars. Shadows were what hid him. The cold darkness and hunger assaulted him in his prison.

Yzak Joule had always thrived upon challengers, to show his skill and prowess at every opportunity. Early at his childhood academy many children heckled him as the only child of a powerful Senator in the House. Several bloody noses later no one dared ridiculed him. He would NEVER accept being treated as weak or as a coward.

Enlisting in the service after the day so many Coordinator brothers were needlessly slaughtered was the moment when he knew he had begun his destiny. This war is what was meant to be: Destiny. He is just and the Naturals are unjust. They seek only to slaughter the Star Children as they toil among the rotting Earth. Yzak had made it his destiny to wipe out as many Natural soldiers as he could.

It was his honor to do so.

When the Bloodhawk Elites, the pride of ZAFT, invaded the unfaithful ORB colony Heliopolis to capture the G-Weapons, Yzak finally knew he had the power to realize his destiny. All that stood in their way was one lone G-Weapon that had managed to escape with a single crimson and alabaster battleship.

Never before had Yzak felt so humbled and humiliated in his life.

That cursed Strike and the single Core Fighter had not only managed to survive against countless encounters against the pride of ZAFT's military but had managed to all but slaughtered his closest comrades. These were the men and women Yzak proud to stand beside and they were gone, killed by, unbelievable, a novice according to Commander Crueset's intelligence.

Yzak could never swallow that and so he fought against the Strike with all he had.

And failed every time.

This was what burned at Yzak's soul. He could almost handle that there existed a pilot more skilled than he, but not one whose capabilities surpassed the whole of the Bloodhawk Elites, much less than one who had never piloted a Mobile Suit before.

The only time Yzak had ever come close to destroying the Strike was in their first encounter; yet Athrun, his superior, saved the Strike. That was when Yzak begun having murderous thoughts about his commander.

Then came the battle where Athrun was lost and his powerful G-Weapon captured by the Strike. The strength of the Bloodhawks had rotted away at that moment. Most no longer wished to continue fighting. Only he and his closest friend, Dearka Elsman, still had the spirit to fight. Nicole Armafi was dead to any outside force. Even the command staff decided to be cowards and accept the handouts of the Earth Alliance government.

While Yzak had seen many warriors killed in battle, this was the death of honor.

He did the only thing he could to redeem what little honor he had left: Commit treason.

Yzak knew going in that even if he won, he would never pilot a Mobile Suit again. He would be tried and most likely executed, but that did not bother him. With the Strike dead at his hands, honor would be satisfied.

But he still failed, and worst, his Suit was taken back to the Naturals who will use the machine to murder many more Coordinators.

It was over. All that remained was to end it.

"Yzak?" The door to his cell was open. "It's Dearka. They let me bring you your supper."

Dearka looked rather sad and remorseful, knowing it would be the last time they would probably ever see each other. He wanted to…Dearka didn't know what he wanted to do. Console Yzak? Hurt him?

…No. He did not want to harm his closest friend no matter what he had done.

When Dearka brought the wayward samurai back to the Vesalius, they were greeted with a host of screaming superiors and several soldiers ready to dismember the one who nearly killed their princess. It had taken the soothing words of Princess Lacus, who had come strolling into the hanger, to quince their fury.

Dearka had never seen her in person and knew her only from how Athrun described her. His words for her were so angelic and pure that Dearka always thought it was just puppy love.

But watching her speak, hearing her words, it was impossible to feel anger or tears. With just a few words, all those men bowed their heads and asked for her forgiveness, which she readily gave away, meaning every lovely siren word. It was impossible to bring hate in her presence.

Lacus then only looked at Yzak and said she bore him no malice or anger, only forgiveness. With that she took her leave.

The Buster pilot turned his despondent friend over to several armed soldiers who led Yzak to a holding cell. Dearka wanted to go with them but knew he had to make his report first. As expected the command staff were screaming at him for allowing the Strike to take the Duel back to the small EA fortification several sectors away. Yet Captain Crueset arrived and reprimanded the command staff!

Dearka had never seen such courage in an officer before. The others balked at Rau as he sternly told them that Pilot Elsman had made the correct decision regarding his encounter with the Strike. The Buster was best suited for long-range assaults. Engaging in close-combat with a Suit with superior speed and mobility was not just ignorant, but suicidal. Captain Crueset even stated that if any blame should fall upon someone it should be him for not heeding Dearka's warning several hours ago.

The young Gundam pilot was dismissed. He left under a very controlled pace; wanting to check on his closest friend was the only Dearka had on his mind.

And now, seeing Yzak so humbled had made Dearka feel it was due a part of his own fault. If he simple aimed more carefully in their first battle, Dearka could have destroyed the Strike right then and there along with its pilot.

The pilot…

Seeing that young man destroyed any presumptions Dearka once had about him. The Bloodhawk Elites were the absolute cream of the crop of ZAFT's military might. They were the best of the best and that is why they had the most powerful Mobile Suits. They all knew how dangerous the Eagle of Endymion was: how he had shot down a dozen GINNs during the Crimson Dawn of Beijing.

That battle over China's capital had been where Mwu la Flaga had shot down so many ZAFT Suits that the skies itself were said to be on fire. How at the battle of Banda Sea in Philippine's south-east, he had managed to fight against ZAFT's specialized underwater GOUFs without the aid of his sensors. Dearka always bragged that he couldn't wait to shoot him down with his Buster, bringing cheers from his teammates and a glance from Captain Crueset that he never could distinguish.

It was because of the Eagle that the Bloodhawk Elites were formed: To counter the greatest the EA had. And it worked. Any pilots showing exemplarity skills were targeted and put down. Until Heliopolis, they had never tasted victory.

Until Heliopolis…

And now…the Bloodhawk Elites are nearly all but finished, their commander dead, Nicole in a near catatonic state, the command staff had ordered him to comply with the enemy, and his partner Yzak was under lock-and-key.

War was not supposed to be like this. It wasn't meant to be so miserable and unhappy.

"Yzak…" Dearka struggled to find the words. "…it shouldn't be like this…"

Yzak's response was a dead hush. "But it is, Dearka. I am no longer a hero….I am no longer a warrior…all I am… is nothing…"

"Na-now listen, Yzak…your picture isn't that black!" Dearka stammered, trying desperately to bring back his friend's life. "Princess Lacus is still alive and she's not begrudging you. I really think I can ask her to convince the command staff to not…decommission you with an unhonorable discharge…"

The silver-haired space samurai only shook his head in dejection. "It…is the end…of my time Dearka…I will never fight again. I will never have honor again." He turned towards the Buster's pilot, his first sign of life. "Dearka…I will always value your friendship. No matter what, remember that."

"Now Yzak, we got many more nights of boasting left. You'll see…"

The intercom buzzed. "Pilot Dearka Elsman: Please report to the briefing room. Pilot Dearka Elsman: Please report to the briefing room."

Dearka smiled like he had always before a mission to his downcast friend. "Time to head out, Yzak. I'll shot down some Naturals for you. I'll hurt them so bad that they'll think YOU were piloting the Buster."

Yzak smiled back, more gently this time. "You do that. Oh, Dearka?"

Dearka looked back as he opened the celldoor. "Yeah, Yzak?"

"Tell my mother…I'm grateful that you and she would always tolerate me."

Dearka looked at him strangely but nodded. "Anything."

The cell clicked as the heavy metal door locked, leaving the fallen Coordinator alone in his prison.

Yzak looked at his dinner. It looked like broiled chicken and several pieces of cold vegetables, all artificial soy-food that everyone eats in this era. Yzak dumped it off his ceramic place and in a quick motion he struck the lower half against the metallic floor, breaking it into a perfect semicircle with sharp edged.

It was no tanto, but it was enough.

XXXXXXX

Back on the Archangel, Adm. Halliburton was sipping a cup of chestnut coffee with a woman that fascinated him on many different scales.

Murrue Ramius: A brilliant field leader and manager who headed the EA facility on Heliopolis and found herself in the middle of a star-written legacy. All her people died during the assault on the Colony. Instead of grieving, she showed her backbone by climbing into the Strike G-Weapon in a desperate attempt to counter the ZAFT Suits. What more, she told an even more unique young man into the cockpit to protect him despite that action counteracting her orders to keep the G-Weapons a secret.

Murrue had even allowed herself to be burdened with commanding the Archangel so Major Flaga could aid the Coordinator child in battle. Upon the Captain's Seat she learned the burdens of command and never bulked. She showed her motherly side when the Star Child's friends when they asked for the chance to help and roared when any subordinate would disrespect her or the child who guarded them.

Both her duty and her humanity came first with her.

What a fascinating woman.

"Captain Ramius… what you have accomplished is the stuff of legends."

"Thank you, Admiral. I admit sometimes I feared I would break. I mean, not only did I have to worry about the PLANT cruisers hounding us and the maintenance of the Archangel but I…" she breathed a tired sigh that no one so young should "…you have no idea how many crewmembers hated Kira when he first came aboard. I honestly thought there would be a mutiny at times. But…Kira showed them. He showed them just how…human…Coordinators are." She laughed slightly. "You should see him blush if you give him a compliment. It's so…innocent. He's so innocent."

"I really must meet this young man." Halliburton replied with a jolly smile. "He sounds like the type that we should all be like."

Murrue's turned to a frown. "Sir, please tell me you won't try to get him to enlist. He's done too much for us to be asked that. He's already sacrificed his friend for your fleet."

"Murrue, war always take away friends. When it keeps happening everyday we start getting desperate," the Admiral sighed, crestfallen and tired. "That's why there are laws to keep us from doing horrible things like giving minors arms while no training and sending them to the frontlines." He eyed her knowingly. "We both know the consequences of forcing children on the frontlines."

"I'm familiar with crimes against humanity. Forcing children into taking up arms against foreign powers is cruel and been illegal for the EA for two hundred years. The only reason ZAFT gets away with it is because they lowered the enlistment age due to a Coordinator's augmented physique and mental conditioning."

"Murrue, you have no idea how happy I am you made it out alive and even fulfilled your mission without putting any of Kira's friends in battlefield conditions. That would have ended your career and stained the EA military as did Captain Moses Chanukah and Lieutenant Ryo Jesús of the battleship Blue Queen."

Murrue frowned, a bitter taste in her mouth. "The shame of the EA military. I remember their trial from last year. Both were found guilty of war crimes, dishonorably discharged, and then hanged after their deeds came to light."

"Yes, we all know the story: ZAFT learned we had a secret factory developing advance jets in Anchorage and they attacked the city to end production. Captain Moses brought the few remaining models onboard the battleship Blue Queen to transport them to an EA base in Alaska. Except for Lieutenant Jesús and a few enlistees, his entire crew was killed in the raid. Finding he had no other options, Moses brought onboard orphans and refugees to manage the ship; a situation much like yours, Captain Ramius."

"I am nothing like him!"Murrue snapped. She quickly realized that she was yelling at her superior. "Forgive my tone, Admiral. I forgot my position, but I do not appreciate comparing me to Moses and Jesús. I recall the televised interviews with the children he forced into hell. They told the reporters everything. The horrors, the abuse; if they argued or complain they were beaten and when ZAFT attacked they were given guns and told to fight to the death. Kira only-"

"Murrue, calm down." Halliburton beckoned gently, now understanding just how sensitive this topic was to her. "I've read your's and Major la Flaga's transcripts: Kira Yamato and only Kira Yamato agreed to help in the defense, and only the defense, of the Archangel. You never sent the Strike on search & destroy ops or beat the boy when he complained, which according to your accounts he never did. Quite mature of him, I must say."

"Kira is a gift from God. He and the Major are the only reason why we're having this conversation. I would never think of hurting him! He only helped because so many lives were at risk!" She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "He wasn't put into the STRIKE at gunpoint as Moses did on the Blue Queen. I never armed the kids and sent them out on the frontlines like Moses did before ZAFT captured him. Now don't compare me to him."

The last sentence was forceful but not demanding. This caused the older soldier to calmly touch her hand, reassuring her that he understood. "I never did. I only mentioned that you both were in the same situation and how proud of you I am for making the better choice." He breathed deeply, unable to keep the conversation away from this subject. "Moses couldn't. He kept heading down the same course, putting those kids into greater and greater danger, losing more with each battle. He nearly made it to EA territory if it wasn't for that ZAFT fleet that ambushed him and seized his ship."

"I remember watching the footage of the children. They were weeping, so happy finally being freed. The ones left in one piece, that is. I admit that even I felt shame for my uniform seeing the ZAFTies pull out boys and girls missing arms and legs, all from Moses and Jesús forcing them to fight."

"They were sick men," Murrue said bluntly. "I don't see any reason why you won't drop this topic."

"The reason I am so tenacious is that I knew Moses when I taught at the Academy. He was my top student. In fact, I personally recommended him to be put in charge of the Blue Queen."

"So you feel guilty? Is that it, Admiral?"

He leaned in closer and when Murrue looked into his eyes, she saw a weariness that would break most men. "I only feel disappointment for the young captain. He was in a horrible situation and thought he found a solution but ended up disgracing his command, his ship, and his uniform. He corrupted his first officer and even disgraced the uniform. Moses and Jesús hurt our country worst than any ZAFT sortie ever could."

Murrue flinched as the more rage and anger flooded his eyes. This was a true fury that she would never have expected such a dignified man to have.

The admiral forced himself to relax seeing he was discouraging her. "I'm upset that I have to put you in a similar position that Moses was in. I have to order you to encourage Kira to enlist."

"Admiral…" she trailed off, showing how distasteful that was.

"Just try, Captain" he said her rank but gently. "He could save a lot of lives if he enlisted. It could even lead to the end of the war."

"By killing his own kind," Murrue said bluntly.

"You are fortunate that I don't mind occasionally explaining my orders to subordinates." Halliburton had to set her straight. "The fallout of Moses' trial was a disaster. The military was shown to be nothing but a collection of inhuman child abusers and was made the ridicule of every liberal political group on earth, despised by ZAFT as the magnum opus of Natural corruption, and ORB's people see us so evil that their king had to accede to their demands to have ORB stay neutral. It caused that much damaged. But if word got out that a Coordinator, especially one of already enlistment age, willingly signed up with us then the EA would be shown as making inroads and progressive change; which would change how PLANT and ORB view the EA. And if ORB changes its stance on neutrality then-"

"They could force the PLANTs to the negotiating table." Murrue whispered, astonished with the admiral's keen insight. "That's brilliant, sir."

He gave her a kind smile. "I didn't get this rank just from my pretty face."

"I think you're much more than pretty." Murrue smiled coyly.

Halliburton had the grace not to be embarrassed. "Murrue…I like to think of myself as a good person and I know asking him to enlist, after recent events, is shallow…but I am a soldier first and I cannot allow such… power to go unused" he wanted to say talent but felt the word was lacking "at least not without asking him to join us."

Murrue shook her head. "He's too sweet for war. Even now, I feel so…wrong…for ever asking him to be a part of it. But he did. He did what was asked of him. It's time to let him live like he was meant to."

Halliburton sighed like an old man. "A part of me hopes that he does." He took a puff on his old wooden-pipe given to him by his staff when he earned Captain's bars. "People like Kira are what is needed to end wars, and not just from a military prospect. He has shown a dedication, a loyalty that would make me proud to know him. I can only imagine how fortunate his friends are to have such loyalty to him."

Murrue relaxed as the conversation drifted away from recruiting Kira. "I'll never forget how touched I felt when they all volunteered to be my bridgecrew. I thought they did it as on a wild whim to see the action." She chuckled softly. "A part of me expected them to freeze when the fighting broke out. All three of the boys nearly did. It was Mirallia who always stayed on track and kept them focused; and not only does she stay cool as a rock on the bridge but she responded so well with many of the other refugees. You have to feel proud of Mirallia. I think she was the one who matured the most."

"Sounds like she'll be quite like a certain Captain I know when she grows up." Halliburton added with a smirk.

"I was never that gentle or determined at that age, sir." Murrue downplayed the complement. "I was more like Tolle in all truth. At that age I was headstrong and too tenacious for my own good. But I managed to learn some patience once I entered the service. I wish I could say the same about Tolle. That boy will fight at a drop of a hat if you insult or pick on one of his friends." She breathed tiredly upon remembering the sheer number of incidents he was involved with. "Too many times I had to have guards pry Tolle off a soldier who said the wrong thing about Kira within ear-range. I can see why Kira values their friendships so much. I just wish Kuzzey had a bit of Tolle's spine. He is without a doubt one of the meekest boys I've ever met. Unless he changes his way and learn to stand up for something, I don't see him making much of himself."

The Admiral took another puff. "What about the two aristocrats you had onboard? Sai Argyle and Fllay Allster. I'll be honest and say I'm expecting them to turn out to be pampered brats."

Murrue had the grace to look embarrassed. "I thought the same too. You know, when I learned that I had held the heir of the Argyle family at gunpoint I had visions of my discharge and imprisonment dancing through my head. The future did not look bright for me then." She at least had the grace to smile at that joke.

"Not to forget he's the future son-in-law of the Allster clan. I must admit Murrue, threatening to shoot the firstborn son of the EA's most influential family of industrialists is not something I would recommend. The military couldn't officially hold you in the wrong for protecting the secret of the G-Weapons but the backers of politicians have a mighty long reach." The older commander silently thanked the stars that Sai showed his maturity by not threatening this wonderful woman.

"Sai is definitely the leader of the group. He has that charisma in him that just draws people to him. And while on the Archangel he's grown too. When he first came aboard he had quite a chip on his shoulder. Once when Kira was practicing with a battle simulation, he and his friends started to see who could score higher like it was some sort of arcade game. Sai would not accept coming in third place behind Kira and Tolle. He's a bit more receptive to those around him now. Seeing people die can have that effect on people. I can imagine him becoming quite a leader in ten or fifteen years."

"And his fiancée? Fllay Allster? How did she adapt to serving the military?" The man pondered. "Did she grow as well?"

Murrue's voice became downcast and she spoke with pity and shame. "No. At first I thought her to be a spoiled heiress but now…now I see her as another genetic racist. Blue Cosmos trash. She simply sees Coordinators as wrong, that simple. She isn't just an ignorant girl. I've heard of her insulting Princess Lacus for her race even in front of Kira. Fllay has even publicly stated that she believes in most of the policies of the Blue Cosmos."

"I've heard of what happened on the bridge." The gentleman commander said dejectedly. "Holding such a sweet and cheerful girl at gunpoint, even in times of war, is just wrong. It's rage like that that births wars."

"She would have done it, sir. I saw the look in her eyes. If Kira hadn't ended the fighting then, Fllay would have killed the girl…and, I know, would never regret it." Murrue swallowed, praying what she says next to be true. "But when Kira…screamed out on the battlefield…something changed inside Fllay as she held Lacus while they cried. I…I can't put it in any other words."

Halliburton had to wipe his brow of sweat as memories of THAT battle came were remembered. "Several of my most experienced soldiers said they felt the same…force…that Lacus and Fllay had. I think that many men and women have changed because of him."

"Do you…think peace has just begun?"

"In the hearts of the soldiers? Yes. But in the minds of the leaders, no. All Allster could talk about on the trip to rendezvous with the Archangel was what we need to do to force PLANT to the negotiating table, with benefits fitting him." He sighed as he felt the weight of the universe's troubles. "You have no idea how…unreasonable… the policies of the Earth Alliance Parliament are. I fully believe that there could have been a treaty to end this war months ago if several greedy politicians weren't in charge…and certain…radical politicians."

Captain Ramius felt her stomach tightened. "Blue Cosmos?"

Halliburton nodded grimly. "Its political leader, Maruta Azrael, has been strengthening ties with Parliament and buying friendships. So far the only real opposition to him is Vice-Minister Allster, who also supports the war. Politic Power is being fought over by a neo Hitler and a cunning Caesar."

Murrue paused and looked around her office for possible spies in reflex. "That is something I've been meaning to ask you about, Admiral Halliburton. It seems that the Vice-Minister has been taking several steps that I find to be undermining to my crew and to the ship's very chain-of-command."

"That sounds like Allster. The man refuses to believe there are things he has no right to do." He offered a tiny laugh. "What has he done that has been hindering your operations, Captain Ramius?"

Murrue chose her next words carefully, avoiding more emotional responses and settling upon more precise factoids. "Allster has made several rulings that have nearly destroyed my command staff. I am unable to relay direct order to my Chief Mechanic while he works on the Duel, my Second-Officer is on vacation time, and Major la Flaga isn't allowed back on the Archangel until he completes training with the Aegis." She swallowed to hold back a building anger. "And this was all done over my head."

Murrue saw a hint of anger in his eyes. "It appears that I need to remind the Vice-Minister just what his position is aboard warship, no matter what Alaska entrusted him with."

The Admiral watched as the lovely captain tried to shake off waves of discomfort. "I feel as if I'm the victim of some sort of conspiracy here. I understand why he dismissed my volunteer bridge staff but for some reason Lt. Badgiruel believes that they stepped down willingly. I've also learned Natarle has been meeting with the Vice-Minister frequently since he came aboard yesterday, moreso than I have. And what I've learned from my new communication's officer is that Allster has ordered all channels to be wiretapped for his remaining time aboard my ship. I try to set up an atmosphere of trust here, Admiral Halliburton. I do not like nor understand why all these decisions have been made."

"That doesn't add up, Captain." Suddenly all suspicion left the Admiral as he suddenly shifted into his typical warm and friendly persona. "Oh, he's probably just asserting himself as the alpha male. He just wants to be top dog everywhere he goes. Don't fret over it. Now if you will please excuse me, I have several people to meet with over the Law and Bernard." Halliburton stood from his seat in Murrue's office. Before he left he gave Murrue a reassuring smile. "Again, don't worry about Allster, Murrue. He's probably just flexing his political muscles so everyone will think he's in charge. Another 24 hours or so and he'll be out of our hair and back in the Alaska Parliament where he can do nothing important."

Murrue had to stifle a giggle as the Admiral winked and left.

In the hallway Halliburton returned all salutes given to him by the military personal. He turned down a flight of stairs and went down another corridor into the quarters that stored all the refugees from Heliopolis. There were certainly a lot of MPs and guards roaming the halls. While security was important when dealing with so many civilians aboard such a battleship, the number seemed a little exaggerate.

These were not enemy personal. They were just poor frightened folks who lost their homes and livelihood when their home was destroyed. For three months they were crammed in a ship, forced to obey strict military rules, and forced to depend upon strangers to keep them safe from PLANT missiles and bullets. Even now after months of constant fear and dread when reinforcements arrive, they are watched by vigilant soldiers who are all heavily armed. Of course this scared them.

Allster just wants to show everyone who's boss by issuing inane orders. The sooner that man was back in Alaska the sooner things would start settling down. Politics have no place on a clockwork ship.

Brave people are what have a place.

"Excuse me there soldier. What room are the four teenagers who volunteered for bridgework in?"

"Admiral Sir! That room sir!"

Halliburton looked to the room where the young soldier was pointing. There four guards standing right outside the door with all their attention focused on keeping those within. They looked ready to shoot anyone who dared step outside.

He marched over there. The quintet of soldiers saluted in reflex as they saw a very high ranking officer charging at them.

"Admiral Sir!" All four shouted simultaneously.

"Ease up soldiers. There is no need to be so vigilant here," he warned. "These kids helped keep this ship functioning. They deserve respect. Not to be treated like prisoners."

"Sir! We are following Vice-Minister Allster's orders! We were specifically told not to allow anyone in or out of their room until we receive orders!"

"Does that include me?" He shot them a warning glare, one that they apparently got.

"Go right on in sir!" They all stepped out of his way and with a salute let them through.

Adm. Halliburton strode pass them, already thinking how to tell Allster to stop issuing ignorant orders. He entered the room and slammed the door behind him.

The four soldiers all shared a worried look. Halliburton was a great leader and you didn't want him angry at you. Suddenly the entire corridor shook as a violent outburst was screamed.

"HE WHAAAAT?!"

The four jumped to position as the Admiral slammed the door open and strode through the hall with a look of absolute and unadulterated fury written in his features. Never in the entirety of his life had he ever seen such a manipulative bastard as George Allster. How could a father use his own child like that?!

XXXXXXX

'Am I a bad parent? I put my own son on the front lines. I have to be.'

This thought had been running through Senator Eliza Joule for the last twelve hours. She had arrived on the Vesalius along with Siegel and Patrick, two fathers that did not look well. Both mother and fathers did not feel well as they approached the battlecruiser.

Once aboard Eliza watched as Siegel stroked his daughter's hair, whispering that he was glad she was safe, and Patrick looked disparate as he behold his dead son as his bodybag was carted off of the shuttle.

The three parents all knew what had happened. Athrun was dead, apparently killed by his best friend, which shocked Eliza because she knew how all those close to Athrun valued him. The boy's charisma was practically inhuman. Anyone in his presence seemed to be absorbed by his justice and courage. You couldn't help but admire him.

The news reports of him and the Bloodhawk Elites made idols out of them to the children of PLANT. They saw him as a hero. So many young men enlisted just to be like their warrior prince.

Athrun was a true leader. He seemed the perfect match to Princess Lacus. He is—was—brave, determined, and honorable. He never balked at his duties and always did what he thought was right. He was a good son and he was dead.

But his death wasn't due to the Zala family. It was only a travesty of war. Patrick and Melissa raised him right. He could have used his political power to remove Athrun from service but did no such thing. He respected his son's decision to fight to protect fellow Coordinators. Even though his child was now with his mother, Patrick had raised him right.

If Patrick Zala was respected as a father, Siegel Clyne was the very model that parents strove to emulate. His daughter was angelic in her beauty and kindness. Lacus Clyne was idol to billions and what all parents, even Naturals, told their children to strove for.

She had never shown disrespect but never balked when against one who is wrong. The princess would never boast her opinion but when one looked upon her, one could tell that she stood for peace. You felt compelled to love her.

Siegel Clyne and his wife had sired an angel that graced all who meet her. Only the vilest of hatred could wish her harm. This was what compelled so many members of the Blue Cosmos to wish her dead and to write so many death threats.

And most marvelous of all was that Lacus only felt pity for those men and women of the hate-group.

Lacus would pity them.

Athrun would fight to abolish their hatred.

Yzak would simply behead them.

It wasn't that Eliza's child was a violent psychopath, far from it. Yzak always believed that insults must never be tolerated, whether it is towards himself or his friends. He always possessed a fundamental view on what was right and what was wrong.

Yzak had once accepted the surrender of an EA shuttle-crew of technicians and engineers after single-handedly destroying their escort of Core Fighters. He led them back to the Vesalius where his lieutenant decided to strike one of the tech-heads in an effort to install some fear. Yzak then promptly pulled out his pistol and shot the officer in the leg.

While the lieutenant was rolling around grasping the bullet graze, Yzak told him that if he ever did that again without provocation, he would die.

The only thing that saved Yzak from an immediate court marshal was that Siegel Clyne had heard of it and ordered the procedures to stop. Captain le Crueset even put Yzak in for a recommendation, saying he admired Pilot Joule's emotions and response. Never had Yzak apologized or regretted his actions.

'Am I a bad parent? This is how I raised him so I have to be.'

That was the type of person her son was, the way she raised him: to be strong in his beliefs and independent. He had never picked upon other children as a bully, rather choosing to stand up to every bully he found. Even scholastically he refused to accept charity due to his mother's position. He wanted to be his own man.

And where did that get him? In a prison cell for endangering the kindest girl who has ever lived.

Is it because of her? Should she have strived harder to curb his desires for honor? Should she have taught him to hold his emotions back?

How should she treat him now? His blunder nearly killed Princess Lacus and delivered the Duel back into the EA!

But is that her fault or his?

She spent his childhood away from her working in the senate. What type of mother would do that?

Whatever her answer, she would best be quick about it. She was approaching her son's cell.

Eliza took a deep breath and ushered to opened the cell door.

And saw her baby doubled-over as blood and intestines slipped through the massive opening in his stomach. A bloody semicircle of ceramic was nearby his paling form.

Her shrill alerted the guards down the corridor as she dove to her child.

"Yzak! Yzak!" She shook her baby and in an insane attempt to pull his intestines back in.

No no no no NO NO NO NO NO!

Her child rolled his now dull eyes to her, pale as his skin and whispered "goodbye mama."

When the shocked guards arrived to pull her off his dead body, all that went through Eliza Joule's head was that she was a bad parent.

XXXXXXX

Even though he had never fathered any children of his own, Mwu la Flaga always thought he would be a great parent. Being one of the EA's most experienced soldiers had often put him as the field commander of several green recruits. Their very livelihood was in his hands and he had to mold them into the right stuff. How he treated them would determine what type of soldiers they would become.

Teaching them to lose any arrogance for experienced-based confidence would help them grow up. He also had to maintain a careful balance between helping them out with some problems and letting them think by themselves. It was hard work maintaining a careful balance between teamwork and individualism but Mwu often found his efforts promising.

Mwu did his best, teaching them not to be cocky or arrogant, trying to make them into good men. It wasn't an easy task. They learned from him and he in turned learned a little from them.

Kira Yamato for instance had taught him one thing he would never forget: Never underestimate the lengths someone will go for the ones they love. That desire was enough to shatter any mountain that stood in its way. It enabled Kira to fight at a level even the most seasoned soldiers were incapable of.

It also allowed him to kill his best friend…

And it made him the target of a vicious overlord.

Vice-Minister George Allster. A well respected politician who had strong ties in the EA Parliament, Allster never settled for his current position. He is ambitious and domineering yet it is all masked behind an insidious mask of wisdom and false-nobility.

That was what separated the man from many in the Political bureaucracy. While many believe they are working for the common good, their own ineptitude and incompetence made more mess. Allster was completely different: Everything he does is only for himself and he knows it.

Allster had betrayed the people who had aided him in his rise to power. He had turned against any college whose policies countered his own. He had lied and deceived those who followed him.

Or twist their minds like he had Natarle's. Or push those aside that fought him. Like Mwu.

Mwu la Flaga had just completed his fiftieth simulation with the Aegis. He scored another one perfect. The man looked angry, tired, and quite bitter. All night long he had stayed inside the Mobile Suit's cockpit playing simulation one after another. He longed to get out of there and get a message to Kira but several guards patrolled the hanger, all under strict orders not to allow Major la Flaga to leave until they receive the word from the Vice-Minister.

Mwu tried to hijack a communication's line from inside the Aegis but it lacked such espionage functions. He quietly wished that Kira had managed to capture the Blitz instead because that Mobile Suit was built with covert and stealth technology. Normal communications would be detected by Allster's lackeys and be immediately terminated.

As if there was only someone there he could ask. Allster had arranged that all of the Archangel's typical engineers, those who had managed to find Kira to be an enjoyable person, were conveniently off working on scuttling the Bernard just like Chief Engineer Murdock. Those that stayed behind were the mechanics that Allster and the Admiral brought.

And they would never lift a finger to help a Coordinator.

"Major Flaga!" a voice boomed. All at once every guard, mechanic, and technician stopped dead. Mwu looked away and saw Adm. Halliburton. Mwu had served under him in several battles before in campaigns during the wars. What always impressed the Core Fighter pilot was Halliburton's humanity in the face of a bloody battle where hundreds died. He would never hold back his soul if confronted by the ignorance and arrogance of an inept politician.

But the Halliburton Mwu now saw storming to the hanger made even the Eagle of Endymion quiver. There was intensity in his stride and a fury in his glare that made Mwu realize something horrible had happen and he had a sinking felling in his stomach he knew what that could be.

"Major Flaga, get the hell out of that cockpit and go see Kira Yamato!" Halliburton stormed passed the hanger without changing his stride. "And make sure he hasn't been suckered into anything for God's sake!"

Mwu hopped out of the Aegis' cockpit and bolted towards Kira's private quarters. The Admiral had just bought him a chance to save Kira. He could only pray it hadn't come too late.

XXXXXXX

"It's too late to seize victory."

This phrase was repeated often inside the Vesalius' hanger. More crushing to ZAFT moral was that those who said it were from the pride of PLANT's military: The Bloodhawk Elites.

They were no longer the feared force that they once were. Now they are ridiculed by the other special divisions within the service.

And ridiculed they were. This coming battle was going to be a massive counterattack by the remnants of the Bloodhawks and other armadas. Their objective is to wipe out the miniature fleet of EA cruisers outside the rim of the Earth's atmosphere. Normally this would only require two ships with their crew and three at most. Never before had the Coordinators marshaled a larger force against the smaller EA's.

It had become policy after the Bloody Valentine Massacre never to group together a fair portion of their forces in fear that the Naturals would develop a countermeasure to the N-Jammer: The specialized weapon that negated nuclear fusion from taking place, rendering any and all atomic weaponry useless.

Though they doubted that. The Naturals were only pathetic wretches with their useless genetic material. There were entire volumes written over how much genetic difference there was between them and the Naturals.

These thoughts rang prominently through the Star Swords: A highly skilled division of Mobile Suit pilots that despite their numerous victories could not surpass the one squad that would always outdo them: The Bloodhawks.

That is, until now.

The few remaining Bloodhawks were swallowed by the different squadrons that had yet to engage the crimson and alabaster starship they would soon face.

Dearka Elsman was going through a personal once-over with the newly rebuilt Buster Gundam when he received the news.

"Suicide?" he whispered.

"Indeed, Elsman." The operator calmly told him the grim news, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "It will save us the trouble of trying the traitor. Best for everyone, is the common air here on the bridge."

That sentence only cemented the grim realization for him. Yzak was gone, dead by his own hand. Worst though, was that everyone but him was happy!

They smiled and chuckled softly, satisfied that Yzak was gone. They had no more love of their 'star brother' than their own enemies.

And Yzak couldn't punish them for this insult.

That magnificent bastard would never again laugh as he rode out into the battle. Never again would Yzak boast over his many accomplishments. He would never again strike down those that committed wrong and basked in dishonor.

And now all Yzak had was his dishonor. No one would ever speak of his accomplishments or compliment his piloting prowess. His name would go down in infamy as worthless scum that had no inkling towards honor.

He was hated. Yzak fought for the wellbeing of PLANT for so long and now in his death, all people would remember him for was his assault on Princess Lacus.

From now he would always be 'Yzak was this' or 'Yzak was that'.

He was left behind in past.

Yzak had left his closest friend and comrade in the present. Dearka stared with eyes that one would thought were unable to be older. The affects of the continuously losing battles over the past season against one foe had torn away that magnetic confidence that made the young Elsman an enemy to be reckoned with.

That arrogant man was gone now, dead along with the tenacious samurai who never gave up without a fight. Did Yzak quit? He would never pilot another Mobile Suit in his life by the officials. All his honors and glories were stripped away once he was brutally beaten by the Strike Gundam. He had even lost the dignity of death in battle. Yzak was left with nothing.

That is why Yzak committed suicide.

The silver-haired samurai had lost all that Yzak was.

Yzak was…

"Pilot Elsman…" the obviously embarrassed bridgebunny fidgeted nervously. Why did Lieutenant Dostezaka, Captain le Crueset's second officer, order him to say this? "Yu-You have to honor Pilot Joule's mem-memory and strike down all the Natural scum that fights against… our dreams." Ensign Byrne, a fair haired redheaded and freckled teenager tried to look serious but he failed miserably.

Dearka looked at Ensign Byrne with a great swell of pity. If he had been Yzak he would have leapt out of his Suit and marched to the comm. center and strangle the ensign. If that was said to Nicole about Athrun, Dearka would not doubt that there would be several dead crewmen.

Thinking of Nicole Amalfi made Dearka realize how wrong things truly were. When they first met the little one, Dearka was convinced the young pianist wouldn't last one week.

Nicole looked soft and coupled with his absolute adoration of the fine arts made him so gentle and receptively. He never raised his voice and never turned his anger to a lower ranked technician or ensign. Something even Dearka and other Bloodhawks would do if their ire was struck.

Nicole always had this charm that made people to want to be his friend. One would simply feel like opening up to him with their fears and angers. The youngest of the Bloodhawks would always listen intently and offer sound advice when asked. Even Yzak was unable to become angry at the lad.

If there was any order in the universe then Nicole should have became a counselor or continue crafting works of art on the piano. But no, he had become a soldier, and had paid dearly.

When Athrun died, the good and culture within Nicole had wilted away. He was practically catatonic now. All he had done since that disastrous defeat was shut himself off from the world. A pianist no longer, Nicole passed the time brooding in his quarters waiting for when the Blitz Gundam would finally be repaired and he could face the Strike again.

Dearka suddenly realized just how similar Nicole was to Yzak.

They both valued what they had as a tigress would her cubs. Any who tried to take away their precious things would have to kill them lest they die themselves. This is when both men were at their most dangerous: When they fought to protect their precious thing.

With that gone, they were left as bitter husks.

And what is Dearka Elsman's precious thing?

Was it victory? No, victory was lost the moment the Strike was piloted by that child with sad eyes.

Was it glory? No, the Vesalius lost all honor when Athrun Zala fell.

Was it for his comrades? Did he even have any left? Miguel and Rusty fell during the assault on Heliopolis, Athrun was gone, Yzak had gutted himself for his failure, and Nicole was dead to the world. Nearly all his comrades died by the Strike's pilot.

What is Dearka's precious thing? If he doesn't have one, then why not quit?

Right then, Dearka took his hands off the throttle-stick and laid back in the cockpit, wondering why he was even in there.

To three young women walking through the hanger, Dearka looked like a tired man who didn't want to even bother with his Mobile Suit Unit any more.

"Aww…is Dearka having problems with his little unit?" a feminine voice spoke with such a condescending voice that you could hear the snide present.

"M-Ms. Jasmine pa-please don't! H-He's on-I mean- I ma-mean we're on the same side!"

"Aw lay off Jazzy, Chiyo! She's just playing around with him!"

Dearka snapped out of his mental monologue to see three members of the Star Swords. The one who insulted him was Lady Jasmine Magunda, a lovely woman of Indian features from a rich and elite family. Her ebony hair was drawn back tightly in a bun, showing her flawless desert skin. A Buddhist charka was imbedded within the center of her forehead, though she had never followed their teachings of peace and gentleness. She was the field commander of the Star Swords.

Jasmine and Dearka had attended the same school for Coordinators. There, she was known as the queen of the school. She held all the influence and many of the male students did their best to court her. She possessed an exotic beauty that drew many men to her. It often torqued Dearka on how much pleasure she would receive in turning them down.

The stammering came from Chiyo Tomina, a Japanese girl who served as the Star Sword's long range support as Dearka had for the now defunct Bloodhawks. Her work was twofold in that she would often serve as the group tactician. Cheyo was the youngest candidate to ever graduate from the Military School for Piloting Perfection in the PLANT of Himmlavile, just younger than Nicole. She was considered as a prodigy by the military higher-ups despite her sheer youth.

What nearly kept her out of the service was the poor dear's height. She was barely four feet tall though; it was assumed she would grow taller. In the five months since she graduated, she had failed to do that. Yet her military accomplishments have been impressive. Her ability to analyze a battlefield so accurately left many with the impression that she was psychic. Many had said that Chiyo had mastered perfect strategy and should be considered a valuable commodity.

Chiyo was quite adorable. With childlike features and height, her brown hair was tied in twin pigtails. Unfortunately for the little prodigy, by working closely underneath such a powerful persona such as Lady Jasmine would whittle away the confidence of a fully skilled man, much less a child genius. It had not taken long for Chiyo to develop an embarrassing habit of stammering in public gatherings and would never defend herself if she was made fun of, by either strangers or her own teammates.

The third girl was Shiho Hahnenfuss, a feisty woman of Swedish decent, was the eldest of the trio by three years. Her maturity was mirrored by the physical perfection in her athletic form. A known sports enthusiast, Shiho was known to practice any sports from classics such as soccer to the recent such as ZG (Zero-Gravity) Blitz. Never one to back down from a challenge, it was rumored that she enlisted on a dare and never looked backed.

Shiho had long auburn hair that was hung freely. The tomboyish girl had hunter green eyes, always appearing that she wanted to fight. She was taller than Jasmine, even taller than Dearka. Though she possessed a well built body with toned muscles, she lacked the overwhelming beauty and charm of Lady Jasmine or the sheer adorability of Chiyo Tomina. Shiho's sex-appeal could only be her almost tiger-like charm and competitive attitude.

But none of this mattered.

Yzak was still dead.

Even though the three Star Swords all wore the blood-red uniforms of Mobile Suit pilots, they wouldn't defeat the Strike.

They would fight and they would die…

So many have died…

Miguel and Rusty fell during the assault on Heliopolis as had dozens of their colleges during the following months against the Strike Gundam. Even Athrun Zala, a brilliant pilot and tactician, could not defeat him.

And Dearka's best friend failed, disgracing himself in such a fashion that suicide was his only choice.

The Mobile Suit pilots of PLANT received training that surpassed any lessons in an EA military school. They possessed expertise with weaponry of every function: Long range, support, stealth. The training ZAFT underwent would break the spirit of a Natural.

Only another Coordinator could not break under the schooling. Only the elite of Coordinators could achieve passing grades and only the best of those talented young people could become the Mobile Suit pilots that crushed the EA in every skirmish. But the Strike's pilot, that was a matter all together different.

During the beginning of their first battle, he displayed all the skills of a novice, yet there was something in his almost clumsy movements that belied an inhuman power: A power that was awakened over the countless battles for the past three months. And after the fallout of the battle of Athrun's death, Dearka expected the Strike's pilot to be some sort of inhuman killing machine.

Or a halo and a set of wings…

But when he saw the Gundam pilot on the vid-screen following Yzak's most crushing defeat, Dearka couldn't help but notice how…human he was. The way he had spoke to Dearka made him realize that this wasn't one who gave orders. He had neither subtle force in his voice nor strength in his manner. Dearka was looking at a guy who just didn't like fighting.

That prospect just didn't seem feasible. Dearka had seen his skill with his own eyes. He seen the Strike practically slaughter the full condiment of GINNs the Vesalius carried within its hangers. He had felt the horror of going up against an opponent that seemingly could not be defeated.

And the pilot turned out to be some bashful kid?

The irony was beyond Dearka's understanding.

War was not meant to be like this.

The Strike pilot…

When Dearka saw his eyes, he saw a gentleness that reminded him of Princess Lacus and a loyalty that rivaled Nicole's. If he was not behind the controls of the Strike, Dearka would have described him as a quiet and shy guy who appreciated his friends. Someone like him should never need pilot a walking death machine such as a G-Weapon.

But should anyone?

"If we go to fight with the fleet, we will die." Dearka spoke to the trio with dead eyes that shined with a wisdom no one would have thought him capable of.

Shiho gave him a nasty look. "That's defeatist talk, Elsman. You don't take that tone if you're a pilot." The tallest of the girls knew how just much damage one player could do by killing morale. And she'll be damned if she'll let the Bloodhawk kill her team's spirit.

Chiyo fidgeted nervously. "Um…Ensign Elsman? Da-Don't you fret over the Strike or Aegis… There will be our six cruisers against three of the EA's and our Suits ow-outnumber theirs by ten to one. The Duel is still ta-too damaged to be possibly repaired. Even if…" Dearka noticed that Chiyo took on a sense of pride that he never known her for. "Even if they have Lord Athrun's Aegis we will crush them! Just like Lord Athrun would have wanted us!"

Lady Jasmine stood alongside Chiyo which she would never do under different circumstances. "Chiyo's right, Elsman. Athrun Zala would turn in his grave if he heard his old teammate talking like that." Even Shiho shook her head in agreement.

Dearka could only see the three Star Swords with despair. They had no idea what they were about to face. Even Athrun Zala, the greatest pilot he had ever seen, would stare into the stars trying to fathom the incompressible power of the Strike's pilot.

All he could do was stare into nothing, and his stare angered them.

With pure anger in her step, Shiho climbed into the cockpit and practically threw Dearka to the floor. She glared down at him as he refused to marshal the effort to even pick himself up. "If you don't have the balls to take on one G-Weapon with six battleships and over thirty Suits and Core Fighters backing you, then give me your fucking Suit and go cry in a closet with Nicole."

Jasmine marched up and appeared ready to bash the still prone pilot's skull in, but at the last moment her fury faded to be replaced with utter contempt. "At least Joule had the spine to continue fighting, you pungent coward…"

Chiyo shook her head vigorously, love of Athrun still beaming in her heart. "Yzak committed treason to avenge Lord Athrun and their dead Bloodhawks. You wouldn't understand that because you never cared about them. At least Yzak showed he still had a heart."

Dearka meet each of their disgusted eyes even as other Star Swords began circling them to see a confrontation. There was no mark of humility or embarrassment but a great swell of pity in his expression. "Dead is dead. It doesn't matter if you die by enemy fire or by yourself…you're still dead…you can't protect anyone or anything dead. What matters…the only thing that matters… is how you live."

The hanger's intercom system buzzed. "Attention all pilots! Make any last minute preparations! You will all be deployed in ten minutes!"

The Star Swords backed away from the Buster's pilot with ire in their eyes. Yet all Dearka did was pick himself up and climbed into his Mobile Suit with the scant remains of his will.

He had no more strength.

XXXXXXX

Kira Yamato stood with a strength he thought was long gone. He was in front of the mirror in his private restroom. Pilots like him were rewarded with these special accommodations not available to the majority of the crew.

Pilots like him…

He was a pilot for the Earth Alliance military…

He now made a life where he would take those of others…

And he had taken this burden upon himself for a woman…

But not just any woman. Natarle had taken it upon herself to off him her strength to carry his pain. His soul was weighed down from his betrayal but Natarle would willingly share the burden with him.

She was to him as the mortar of a foundation. While he may carry the weight of the world, she was the one who carried his heart.

"I love her…" Kira whispered with a small smile on his lips. He knew the following months of the war would be harsh but she would be there to save him just as he would protect everyone.

Sai, Tolle, Mirallia, and Kuzzey, would soon leave on the refugee shuttle to EA lands where they would be reunited with their families. Already Fllay was by her father's side as he stroked her stunning scarlet hair. Sai would be with them as well, receiving immense praise from the Vice-Minister with Fllay hanging from him.

Kira had suddenly understood his spectacle-wearing friend much better. When you have someone to love who loves you back then you will always strive past your limits for her.

Kira straightened out the collar of his uniform.

His uniform…

It was what distinguished him as a soldier.

He was a soldier…

Kira could only pray that he would become a man like Major la Flaga.

When Kira had met the Eagle of Endymion three months passed, the young Coordinator was taken aback by the charismatic Core Fighter pilot. Every expectation and opinion Kira Yamato had about EA soldiers were dashed when they met.

Before Kira boarded the scarlet and alabaster for the first time, he had always imagined all EA soldiers to be of the likes of those personal that glared when he walked through the Archangel's halls. Hateful racists all, Kira knew that many of them enlisted solely on the belief that Coordinators were a threat.

Even during the last three months while Kira fought with all his heath, he had heard many crewmembers onboard joke about Bloody Valentine and whither Coordinators felt pain like normal people.

Major Mwu would always report them and Captain Ramius would give them a strict reprimanding. That pair made Kira realize they're truly good people in the military. These were the manner of people who were meant to enlist: People who would always strive to protect innocents while fulfilling their duty.

Murrue Ramius had such an inner strength within her. She would rise to every challenge and meet it head on like the Rock of Gibraltar. When she pushed Kira into the Strike, she did so with the intention of protecting him even though she did possess the piloting expertise of the Major. And once that battle was over she took Kira and his friends by gunpoint in the interest of national security. At the time, Kira felt angry and betrayed by her actions yet now, having seen the sheer raw destructive power of a G-Weapon, he found himself able to not only forgive her, but to understand her decision.

The Gundams were weapons of mass destruction. They all had the capability to wipe out entire colonies before their energy reserves were empty. Nothing short of an atomic bomb could safely ensure that one was destroyed and the N-Jammers had ensured that would never happen. War had created such horrific technologies and it fell on Murrue to keep them secret.

This was Murrue's duty. She will do whatever is necessary to safeguard innocent people. When it fell upon her to run the battlecruiser so Major Flaga could fight by Kira she did so knowing she would be bare the burdens of command. She did all this so Kira could have a teacher to show him what he needed to know how to fight against the larger number of opponents that attacked nearly every day. She worked towards safeguarding the Archangel back into EA hands as well as ensuring the safety of the two hundred Heliopolis refugees Kira brought aboard.

Then there was Major la Flaga. The European ace pilot had boasted more victories than any other soldier in the military. He had good looks, charm, and bravery, yet he never lorded over anyone. It amazed Kira how the man treated him: Not as an enemy Coordinator or as an EA rookie, which he ironically was now. Mwu took on the role of mentor and teacher to Kira, passing not only the lessons of warfare but also the knowledge of how to deal with the fear and continue fighting to protect.

Mwu la Flaga was friend, teacher, leader, and brother all in one.

He was so much like Athrun in that regard.

Kira wondered briefly how his relationship with them would change now that he was a part of the Earth Alliance military service. Would they be proud of him? Or would they be disappointed?

But Kira still had her to draw strength from.

"I'm in love…" Kira whispered with honest satisfaction. "I love Natarle…"

Kira was about to leave his quarters to search for her when he heard a loud banging at his door. It was sharp and forceful, like the collapse of the Walls of Jericho.

Kira quickly deactivated the digital locking mechanism on his side before the irate major busted down the door. "Major Flaga?! What's wro-"

"KIRA!" The elder soldier grabbed the younger pilot by the shoulders. There was a look in his eyes that was almost rabid, a desperate fear he was fighting. "Have you enlisted?" He spoke so quickly it all sounded like a single word. "Has Natarle or anyone asked you to enlist?"

"Ye-Yes…Major la Flaga."

Never had Mwu wanted to be called by his civilian name so badly. "What. Did. Natarle. Say."

Kira was taken aback by the sheer malice in the normally cheerful major's voice. Even during the heat of battle Mwu managed to maintain an air of confident dignity. Looking at him now, Kira saw him practically as an animal.

Kira's thoughts had not even begun scratching the surface of Mwu's rage. The normally cool and collected pilot had noticed Kira's bedding removed from his bed and placed in the laundry bag all soldiers had to carry their dirty laundry to the washers. His nostrils flared as he detected that pungent musky odor that signified lovemaking. "That whore fucked you."

With those three words spoke, Mwu witnessed a rage within Kira he would never have thought possible. "Major Flaga, don't you ever call Natarle that again" he looked into the older man's eyes with a blaze that put the fires of Hell to shame "or it will be the last thing you ever say."

Mwu felt his heart break. The bitch didn't mess with the boy's hormones. She toyed with his heart. "Oh Kira…Kira, she doesn't love you. She slept with you because Allster ordered her to."

"You don't know her, Major" Kira's visage was chilly as Pluto while his eyes burned brighter than the sun "so don't talk like you do."

Mwu felt sick as his heart slid down to his stomach. He was about to crush Kira's spirit. "Kira…you have to listen to all that I say very carefully. The Vice-Minister ordered Natarle to sleep with you for your enlistment. That man has analyzed you and told his pawn exactly how to work you and he's won now that you're in the service. I'm not wrong, Kira. Allster practically bragged it to me and-"

Kira cut him off with a speed that rivaled the Strike's. "Fllay's father has nothing to do with-"

"Lacus Clyne asked me to warn you."

With those seven small words the broiling anger and frosty rage in Kira died as the Pain returned. The Pain was the only name Kira could give to the worst sense of dread, disgust, and fear crept into his belly since he had become the Strike's pilot.

The Pain first tore into him like a vulture when he took his first life in Heliopolis…

The Pain ravaged him as he realized that he had became Athrun's enemy…

And it was the Pain that had robbed him of all his desires of life when he took the life of his brother…

Kira would never believe these accusations if they were said by the Major or the Captain or even his closest friends.

But Lacus?

Kira could never refuse taking her words as anything but the golden truth.

Mwu placed his strong hands upon Kira's shoulders to lend the now frightened boy his strength. "She used you, Kira. And she did it all for Allster." He said the name like it was poison on his tongue.

The Coordinator who gave his heart entirely to the woman who had betrayed him shivered as a dank frost sliced his heart. To Mwu la Flaga, he looked every bit the shattered boy that he feared Kira would become.

No fucking way he'll let that happen.

"Kira, stay here. I'm going to get Murrue and between us and Adm. Halliburton, we should probably get you out of this devil deal."

Without looking back, Mwu charged out of the room with a furious determination that would quell even the vicious of ZAFT pilots.

Kira stood back, vulnerable in his quarters. Then suddenly he balled up his fists and followed with the speed of the Strike.

XXXXXXX

Vice-Minister Allster couldn't help but celebrate even as his pretty Russian aid prattled off a series of numbers.

His victory cigar from Panama left a powerful musk in his throat. He always allowed himself one whenever he won a major win. Still that doesn't mean it was downhill from here. How the war went during the next month would mean everything.

If it goes well, as it should with Kira now enlisted and three G-Weapons retrieved, then PLANT should be forced to capitulate during the next round of negotiations. He will be considered the great peacemaker by all of the EA's citizens and their votes will help his supporters. And in a couple of months he would finally be made Prime Minister of the EA, booting out that bastard Maruta Azrael and his insane Blue Cosmos allies.

When Blue Cosmos first broke into the political arena, Allster found them quite useful as a rallying force. Theirs was a near limitless determination and they hardly ever required much funding. Fiery youth was always a valuable asset. He was able to get many of them to donate massive amounts of man-hours to fundraisers and rallies. George Allster knew perfectly how to cultivate their youth to his advantage.

It was until they rallied under Azrael that they became a problem. When the next election rolled around, Allster was quite dismayed that several of his strongest supporters in the Parliament were not reelected. This began a gradual growing distaste between George Allster and Maruta Azrael.

Allster couldn't wait to bring Azrael's world down.

He took another poof off his cigar. 'Only a matter of time now, you smug bastard.'

This was turning into a fine day. His daughter was safe, the Argyle brat was okay and his parents would be pleased, more of the G-Weapons were recovered, and he had managed to guarantee a victory for the EA in this war. Nothing could spoil this day-

"ALLSTER!"

The Vice-Minister was beholden to an irate Adm. Halliburton practically busting down his door. Most likely he had somehow learned of his maneuvering with Kira's decision and had come here to stop him. That man could never do what needed to be done.

"Yes?" George asked laconically. "Can I help you, Admiral?" There was a pithy tone in his voice.

The space navy man built back an ugly string of obscenities. "I spoke with Kira's friends" he emphasized the word like Allster had no idea of its meaning "they've told me you prodded them for info and had them under locked up like POWs." His voice grew more and more furious with each word. "AND you've practically ripped apart Captain Ramius' entire command staff!"

"All well within my power as Vice-Minister of the Earth Alliance," he said without any hesitation. "The G-Weapons were stolen on that woman's watch, knowing full well how dire the schematics of the G-Weapons are to the war effect. They're the most advance Mobile Suits in service and are quite literally our best chance to win and that woman has bungled it every step of the way. Steps must be taken to safeguard their secrets and if that means some high schoolers need to be confined until properly debrief then perhaps you aren't cut out for the service, Haliburton."

"Don't give me that shit, Allster!" the war veteran hissed, in no mood to stay on the defensive. "PLANT already have the specs for four of them and those kids don't know thing one how the Strike works! That's the Chief Mechanic's job and you've already booted him off the ship along with most of Captain Ramias' staff!"

Allster acted indignant. "I thought better of you, Halliburton. Redistribution is needed to ensure the Archangel has only the finest crew. I will not send our fighting men and women into battle unless they're the best of the best so a little dismantling is required."

The Navy man ignored the piecing glare. "So that includes whoring out an officer to enlist a child?"

The room took on a deathly silence as the Vice-Minister glanced the fuming soldier over with the cold analytical objectivity of a scientist. There was a cool viciousness present, foretelling how much power the politician truly had. "You object to my tactics."

Allster didn't mean it as a question, not that it stopped the Admiral from treating it as one. "You're damn right I do! You've insulted the uniform, you draft dodger! You pimped out a fine officer to get a kid to kill for you!"

"To kill for us, Halliburton. To kill for us."

His eyes narrowed. "So that's the angle you're using."

"Well, it works," Fllay's father said cutting to the chase. "Face facts, Admiral. This war has turned around for us since that boy came along. Now, if it ruffles some feathers how I helped inspired him to enlist then please look at the new casualties list."

"That's how you gain votes, isn't it?" he intoned. "You present the simple solution like it was common sense when what you're after is so much bigger."

"If you don't like my policies then don't vote for me," George said matter-of-factly. "There are plenty of citizens who will."

"Nobody will vote for a criminal."

"A crook am I? Well then, what prey tell have I done that's illegal? List my crimes, Admiral. I deliberately deceived an academic into enlisting with promises of honor and duty? Recruitment videos have been doing that for ages. I drafted a child into service and deserve the same condemnation as Moses? The enlistment age for Coordinators in PLANT is 15 years and the boy is legal age for ZAFT enlistment set down by the Antarctic Accord. If he could enlist for them then he can enlist for us. It works both ways. Trust me, I'm a bureaucrat. I know how to use tiny details to get what I want."

"What I want," Halliburton voice dripped with sarcasm. "That should be your campaign slogan. That, and how you'll pimp out women to enlist defectors."

"The honey trap strategy has been around since Biblical times. Delilah got 1100 silver pieces for delivering Samson to the Philistines. Natarle has been given command of the Dominion for giving us Kira. It'll all work out in the end, I can see it. It will end very well for us. Me, politically and the E.A. militarily." He sat back down at his desk and started doing paperwork. "Now get back to work, Admiral. There's a lot to do and the sooner the better." Allster spared the grizzled navyman a long cold stare. "And not doing it is dereliction of duty, which would discharge you from the service; so don't let me down."

Halliburton's stomach churned, wanting, needing, to pummel the politician. It would be so easy. Too easy, and it would cost him dearly. All he could do was follow his orders like a good soldier should.

But it was up to him to interpret how to carry out those orders.

XXXXXXX

Murrue Ramius was in her Captain's Quarters going over some paperwork. An hour earlier she assumed this would be her last captaincy assignment. The chestnut-haired woman had assumed that when the Archangel had reached an EA force she would be removed from her position as the officer in charged of the most advance warship in the Earth's fleet. It only seemed logical that she would be made to step down from command for a superior officer. Yet Adm. Halliburton told her not to worry. She would remain in command.

When she asked why he only responded with that the best officer was already in command.

For the first time, Murrue felt truly proud to be the Captain of a ship. She was not just the manager of collective of technicians and engineers, she was Captain Murrue Ramius, captain of the battleship Archangel. Hear her roar!

"Teh heh."

Murrue blushed, smiling to herself. She had spoken with the Admiral over how Kira's friends had grown over the three months of nearly endless battles. Never once did it occur to her that she had grown.

She was truly ready to kill Kira…

How she had been so vicious that she could kill such a king young boy still bothered her. Fortunately she has grown since then. When Lt. Badgiruel insisted, even demanded, that Kira be locked up for learning the secret of the G-Weapons Murrue ignored her second-in-command. While a fine officer, Natarle was so determine that she would often fail to look at the big picture. That was Natarle's worst failing as an officer. She was so dead set on following orders that it would never occur to her to disobey even for victory or survival.

When Murrue told Vice-Minister Allster this, he had a strange grin on his face.

Yes, Murrue had ignored protocol by not executing Kira and his friends for learning national secrets. But because she had, she had been able to get the Archangel back to EA territory. She had disobeyed direct orders to win. She had betrayed the idea of the EA military to ensure that it would retain the power of the Archangel and the Strike without hurting innocent kids.

And that was the hallmark of a great officer according to Major la Flaga.

Once Natarle learned to do what needed to be done, she would become a good officer.

Refusing to adapt to a crisis was the worst offense a captain could make.

If Murrue had been such when she first meet Kira, she had an inkling to how horrible the future would be. The ZAFT fleet would have eventually damage the Archangel to such an extent that Murrue's only option would have been to activate the self-destruct sequence to prevent the battlecruiser from falling into enemy hands. She and her crew would have died their in space along with the two hundred refugees they were carrying with them. Never seeing the blue Earth again.

That is if the ZAFT pilots could not disable the self-destruct sequence. She had heard the story of how another EA captain had made the decision to activate the disabled ship's auto-destruct rather than hand the prototype Core Fighters to a ZAFT battleship. To the captain and Alaska's horror, the computing technician of the attacking ship had manage to hack into their system and disabled the auto-destruct. The EA cruiser was then towed to PLANT territory where the captain and his crew were transferred to a prison camp and the precious cargo to ZAFT's research and development.

Murrue failed to fight off a shiver. She had heard stories how PLANT treated EA P.O.W.s. Attractive women such as herself, which she knew to be true, were often violated.

Murrue Ramius had such nightmares where she is raped in a ZAFT Prison.

Thankfully Kira Yamoto and Mwu la Flaga had prevented such horror from happening.

If only Natarle could see that. If only she could see how great those two men were. If only-

"MURRUE!" Mwu rushed into her quarters so fast that if the computerized sliding door been a second slower it would have been tore off its hinges.

The Archangel's captain froze, never having seen the major look so panicked. He carried such a sense of urgency that she thought the Archangel was about to be boarded.

And when he told her what her first officer had done, she realized it was so much worst.

XXXXXXX

Natarle walked through the Archangel's hallway with weak steps. Passersby's would note that she looked very sick. They would assume only partially correctly that it was due to celebration of the Strike's recent victories. Yes, her stomach pains were due to the Strike's victories but in no way was it in celebration.

Guilt was her tormentor.

But why? She had fulfilled her duty as a soldier for the Earth Alliance. A great fighter had been added to their strength to be used against their greatest enemy, the soldiers of ZAFT and people of PLANT.

Her government now had the strength to win this bloody war.

Innocent children would no longer be endangered from PLANT's retribution for Bloody Valentine.

Victory was now within reach.

This was a huge victory for the good guys.

So why does she feel like a fucking whore!

Great men throughout history had done terrible things to win. They knew the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. They did what was necessary. She should be proud that she can now count herself among great men such as these!

Surely they knew what they were doing. Great men such as those had to know the ends justified the means.

They HAD to know it was all worth it.

Natarle just wished she knew how they dealt with the guilt.

Maybe what helped them live with the pain was that they never had to look the people they hurt in the face. Maybe she should just accept Allster's offer of captaincy to that new ship being currently constructed, the next generation of the Archangel model.

There, she could start over. Never deal with betraying such a gentle soul, never see the kind amethyst eyes of the kindest lover she had ever known.

And as Natarle turned down another corridor, she found those beautiful eyes in her path.

"Kira…Ensign…" she stammered, her heart frozen in her breast. The woman that Kira loved shivered as icy guilt shivered down her spine. She stares down, and in that horrible instant, Kira knows Major La Flaga was telling the truth.

"Am I Kira, or am I your ensign, Natarle?" Kira asked automatically.

Backed into a corner, the beats of Natarle's heart pounded within the endless corridors of the battleship. "Kira…" an almost whine, she wanted to fall to her knees and beg for his forgiveness. "I…" she stepped backwards in tune with her pause "can't let you leave on the shuttle…"

Kira's icy persona thawed under the heat of fear, the pounding of his heart. "Please tell me you needed me here," his whispers ached from his soul "please just say it…"

Natarle swallowed the ice into her belly "I…need you… to be here…Allster needs you here…"

Her last four words would haunt for the remainder of Lt. Badgiruel's life.

The shear suffering in Kira's face clashed against her truculent heart. God help me, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry… She froze from fear and pain, wishing the man she betrayed to start punishing her.

Yet to Natarle's mountable surprise, her damaged lover would not strike her. Instead he drew closer, a frightening level of strength at his disposal as he clutched her in a, surprisingly, tender embrace.

His eyes bore into hers, showing the woman just how much Kira needed her. "Just say… please just say… what happened last night wasn't because of Allster…"

"Kira…the Vice-Minister sent me what to do. He told me how to approach you and everything. He even gave me…" Natarle swallowed to her shame "several drugs to loosen you up. The sex was planned."

Kira swallowed, his mouth like cotton and heart melting like acid. "Do you love me?"

"I shouldn't…I… Kira what we… did last night was wrong… we shouldn't have…" Feeling more vulnerable than she had ever been in her entire life, Natarle pushed away her one-time lover with the strength unheard of by a Natural and ran away. "Ensign! Ga-Go see Captain Ramius for your orders!"

As his love vanished within the well-lit corridors of the Archangel, Kira fell against the wall powerless like the Poet King after Delilah cut his God-given power.

Thus repeating where history once had done, the siren blazed with cold news.

"ATTENTION ALL PERSONAL! PREPARE FOR EMMINENT ATTACK!"

XXXXXXX

Murrue was never a religious woman before arriving on Julius-7 but having experience the horrors of war firsthand, she had learned the power of prayer very quick. Knowing better than to pray on-deck or in public as it would lessen the confidence the crew had in her, she would often and repeating alone in or the captain's quarters. But learning the sordid tale of sex, lies, and betrayal from Major la Flaga made her want to start praying that her First Officer hadn't been coerced by the Vice-Minister into this torrid affair.

All she could do was judge Natarle when she arrived.

"Sally, what's the status of our forces?"

"Captain, the Montgomery and Law are drawing back behind us!" Ensign Sally Jones yipped, worrying the Archangel would have to fight alone.

Captain Ramius nodded confidently. "Adm. Halliburton is going to offer us cover-fire as the Archangel is the least damaged of our forces." She thought up a plan, figuring how Halliburton would want her to act next. "Chundra, call engineering and tell them to have the Aegis battle ready and have the Strike…" Murrue paused, debating calling Kira, feeling guiltily grateful if she could.

"Ma'am?" Chundra hurried, needing a response.

"Call Kira Yamato to the Strike." I'll hate myself later. But it needs to be done.

The bridge's door hissed, opening for a shaky Natarle to enter.

Now in the three months since they met, Murrue felt she had a keen insight into most of her crew's personalities. She found Chief Engineer Murdock to be salty as the devil's spit but completely dependable. Mwu was a rock, completely dependable and completely committed. But Natarle…

Up until now, Murrue was, in a way, star-struck by the woman's sheer confidence and pride.

But that proud woman persona was gone. For the first time since they month, after experience so many bloody and horrific battles, after seeing the millions dead amongst the remains of Julius-7, after witnessing the kindest young man they had ever known degrade himself by killing so many, Natarle was shaking.

'…oh, great God in Heaven…' And she knew, Natarle had seduce Kira into recruiting. Natarle how could you?

The Captain of the Archangel thus committed the worst crime a commander could make: She allowed herself to be human.

As Murrue paused whilst gazing at Natarle, trying to configure her rather heinous act, the Archangel rocked violently from the enemy's first volley.

The disturbance knocked the captain's sense back into Murrue and as much as she hated it, she knew what she had to do. "Order Ensign Yamato into the Strike! Now!"

She saw Natarle shiver when she issued the order. God, I'm as horrible as you are.

XXXXXXX

Lydia was charging into the Weapons Comm. like a rampaging steer. The smart ones ran for higher ground while the dumb ones stayed still and got ran over. "Out of my way, you slowpokes! Cuz I am in charge of the targeting system! Disobey at your peril!"

A frightened technician immediately relinquished her computer terminal to the corporal. "Yes ma'am! Just don't hurt me!"

"S'ok! I'll just hurt them!" Lydia slid on a com-set mic and earpiece to take in the enemy's movements and started typing in coordinates, burst patterns, and trajectory madding fast like Kira.

"But Ma'am! Only the Captain can order missile attacks! The only thing we can control here are simple beam rifle shots! There's no way to take down Suits with measly shells!"

Lydia grinned ferally like a bobcat. "That's cuz you ain't ever had a real shooter run those guns! Now get ready to see what a Texas chaingunner can do!"

XXXXXXX

The real power of the EA's G-Project is that the G-Weapons were meant to work in tandem with the Archangel. The battleship's ramp, the G-Launcher, uses reverse-magnetism to rocket-propel a Mobile Suit at a velocity that could not be achieved otherwise without using the counterforce from a massive explosion. The G-Launcher would then deploy the Gundams deep within the enemy's perimeter. The enabled first-strike would lead to heavy damages to the PLANT fleet.

The Archangel's Gottfried and Variant Linear cannons and intermediate multi-fire made a frontal assault akin to suicide. Its radar facilities and the astral thrusters located on the ship's belly and stern made the EA's flagship the most mobile warship in current military affairs. The iso-deuterium reinforced outer hall also provided enormous protection against most heavy-fire weapons. Nothing short of particle-beam cannons and G-Weapon artillery could rupture it.

The powerful offensive and defensive facilities of the Archangel left the Gundams free to deal with the enemy. The Blitz would be on hit-and-run tactics while the Buster provided cover-fire for the frontal assault of the speedy Strike and the fierce battle-power of the Duel. The leader Suit, the Aegis, would annihilate remaining forces. Combining the onslaught capabilities of the G-Weapons with the mobile fortress that is the Archangel gave the EA a leading edge in the war.

Yet that edge was dulled when the Bloodhawk Elites hijacked four of the five Gundams from Heliopolis so many months ago. If not for Major la Flaga and Kira, the ship would have been reduced to stardust long ago. But through pain and suffering, the child of the stars brought back the Aegis.

And no matter how many are sent against them, they would fight for their lives.

Mwu fastened himself into the Aegis as dozens of technicians typed maddenly into the consoles jacked into the transformable Mobile Armor. He hoped they would scatter before he had the Aegis step onto the catapult-ramp for launch. He didn't want to squish them.

"Damnit finish typing and get out of here." Mwu yelled at the techies that were still inputting codes into the Aegis while listening on the radio through headphones, picturing their battle formation in his mind. "What do you mean there aren't any short-range cannons on the Montgomery? Wait, is there confirmation on a eighth ship? Oh hell!" He turned towards the engineers. "Yo science-boys, back off! I'm heading to the G-Launcher!"

Ensign Sally Jones' pretty face popped up on Mwu's view-screen. "Major la Flaga, Admiral Halliburton as ordered you to launch with the Strike in a duel force down the enemy's middle while the Archangel valleys coverfire."

"…leaving the sides exposed for the Gottfried and Variant Linear cannons…" Mwu grinned. "Halliburton earned his rank. We just got to spread the ZAFTies apart from the motherships and we might all walk away from this. Okay, I'm heading out first. Have whoever's piloting the Strike follow up behind me. We launch on the opening volley."

"Uh…Major? Ensign Kira Yamato will be-"

"Get someone else!" Mwu cut her off so fast you'd think he was a Coordinator. "I know Halliburton brought some Aces with him so get one down-"

"But the Strike hasn't been reconfigured for Naturals!" Sally blurted, slightly panicked by the sheer numbers they were facing. "Ensign Yamato is the best one for the Strike!"

And Mwu knew it: The boy he meet in Helipolis so many months ago was the best choice to be his teammate in this conflict. There was never anyone who could fight with such ferocity while possessing such a kind heart.

Dear Lord, why does he have to keep suffering? Mwu wish it could be someone else but that was possible. Kira Yamato was the only one that he knew could save all the people, the soldiers and civilians alike, aboard the Archangel and the other EA vessels.

Mwu froze as he saw Kira step out of the elevator into the hanger. To the average person, he looked battle-ready as he dashed up the stairs to the Strike's cockpit with nerves of steel that were fitting of an EA MS Pilot. But to Mwu, a man who's seen so much bloodshed that it shouldn't it be right, he was looking at a person whose very heart was scorched by hot venom.

Kira Yamato, the gentlest person Mwu's ever had the fortune to meet, was hurt so bad that he was operating on pure reflex like the machine his parents tried to birth. But that child still couldn't let his heart go even with all the sorrow he's endure over this violent past.

That's how Natarle was able to deceive him.

Mere words could not describe how very much badly he was going to hurt the lieutenant when he got back. One thing was certain: It would involve the ten ton boot of the Aegis.

Mwu hit the com-line the moment Kira strapped himself into the cockpit. "Kira, listen to me!"

"Ma-Major la Flaga…" Kira whispered, a feeling of shame washing over him. A part of Kira wished that he could hid what Natarle did to him, to cover it away from his mentor's eyes. But he couldn't. Like Athren as a child, Mwu was empathic: knowing whenever someone was hurt and willing to do whatever it took to help them recover. They could never stand by while someone was in pain.

Mwu's voice was unlike anything Kira ever heard: The courage of Athrun, the stubbornness of Murdock, and the compassion of Lacus. The greatest man he had ever known, Mwu spoke to Kira as a brother, friend, and son. "Kira, you don't need to fight anymore," Athrun "but I can't rely on anyone else now," Murdock "So please don't give up" Lacus.

Kira trembled, the weight of war clashing against the comfort of friends amidst his soul. He wanted to stop, praying for a way the war could end, that he could find peace.

Must he kill to find peace?

Mwu has long since learned the answer to that. "Kira, we can never fight alone. Our strength is our unity. I'm not just your CO; I'm your comrade. We survive together; and we fail together." Mwu breath carried the cold of war in him, allowing him to take in hell. "Don't give up, Kira." And exhales the hate, purifying his soul from war.

Nodded, Kira placed his blood-stained hands (in his eyes) on the controller, activating the metal giant. "Kira Yamato! Strike Launching!"

"Mwu La Flaga! Aegis Launching!"

The two Gundams rocketed through the void, the crimson Mobile Armor transformed into its craft-form with the Strike trailing close behind. The afterburners gave Kira's Suit a ruby glow, like Satan falling from Heaven to Hell.

And there in oncoming proximity were the sons of the stars, arms ready to avenge their fallen son.

Athrun… So sorrowful, Kira removed his thumb from the weapons buttons and pushed forward on the throttle, accelerating towards his punishers.

Mwu saw it, knew it, and did not like it. "Kira! Don't!"

The Aegis pulled ahead, trying desperately to reach the faster Strike before it did what its pilot prayed for so badly.

XXXXXXX

"Strike approaching rapidly?" Jasmine transmitted to her wingmen who were all ladies.

Shiho whistled appreciatively. "Wow, this pilot is as gutsy as we've heard."

Chiyo typed in multiples of calculations into her console, a modified GINN with numerous launchers and cannons inserted into the Suit's shoulders, shins, arms, and chest. Like a hundred needles sticking out of a turtle's shell, her Suit was a slow-moving onslaught of firepower. It served her skills strategy well: Stay out of immediate combat, take in the battlefield, plot, and inform the team her perfect strategy while taking pot-shots at the enemy.

The Indian beauty readied the weapons of her GINN. "Chiyo, I need calculations on the Strike! Can its maximum speed dodge our pincer strategy? What is the probability we could damage its Vernia Thrusters?"

Over a hundred calculations were computed in a second between the wunderkind and her computers. "Less than 10% using an en massive attack, Madam Jasmine." Her stammer was gone and she spoke with a detached professionalism. Almost as if possessing a second personality. "Strike's Pilot has displayed Hawk-Level reflexes in previous conflicts. Probability states that all close-range attacks will fail. Suggestion: A diversion must be provided while high-precision sniper disables Strike's Vernia Thrusters."

Jasmine plotted out the entire battle in a second's span. "Okay, Shiho you and I will approach in a classic pincer formation. Chiyo, release scatter-bursts to limit Strike's escape routes. Elsman!" she added a touch of mockery to the name. "Do you think you can clip this bastard's wings or do I have to get a rookie to do it?"

Dearka spoke calmly with patience, like a teacher explaining a lesson to a dense student. "Yzak had used that very strategy and still failed. The Strike's pilot outmaneuvered the Duel, a close-combat model, in melee combat; something the Strike model should never be used for. The Strike's pilot used a Suit for combat it was not suited for against a Suit specialized for it and still won over a highly qualified Pilot." He looked in Jasmine's eyes through the view screen. "This plan won't work. Nothing we throw at him will work. This assault will fail."

"Pra-Private Eldman, pa-please refrain from that talk!" little Chiyo squeaked. She fidgeted on her keyboard and sent a list of diagrams and charts to Dearka's console. "Th-The Strike isn't ap-all powerful, its pa-pilot simply shows ca-considerable reflexes and trak-trajectory calculations! Wa-we can beat him by la-limiting his options!"

Shiho shrugged. "Seriously Elsmans, lay off that talk. You're frightening Chiyo."

"None of you understand. We can't win this. Strike's pilot-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, ELSMANS!" Jasmine howled, hate and displeasure with every word. "One more word, just ONE more word and I'll have you arrested for disobeying orders! We will kill that fucking gene-traitor and put down every Natural savage on this ship of dead men!"

"Oh hell yeah! Let's rock!" Shiho hit the thrust , speeding off just as Chiyo pulled back to acquire more battlefield data.

The EA's front linesmen, which consisted of the Aegis and the Strike, poured ahead with thrusters in full-throttle. Mwu's Aegis, still running a less-then-perfect programming, handled itself gracefully but no where near the flawless accuracy that Athrun Zala had piloted the crimson Mobile Armor. The Strike, has always, sore through space like an azure comet, beautiful yet frightening; destined to destroy all in its path and awe those who watch. The armed forces of the Coordinators readied their mass-produced space naval fleet against the few battlecruisers and the fierce force of the Archangel and its star pilots.

Chiyo uplinked to Lieutenant Magunda's GINN. Typing with inhuman dexterity, her voice lost her trademark stammer, losing all sense of self and sounding like a computer. "EA Mobile Suits incoming. Recommending dispersing cruisers in all directions. G-Weapon Aegis will be limited to one target at a time and G-Weapon Strike will not have sufficient trajectory to achieve maximum velocity."

Jasmine grinned beneath her silvery helmet. "You heard her, squad! Gamma-Alpha and Beta-Omega rise 20 kilometers and launch wild volleys. Delta-Zappa, stick and move with the EA's ships! Shiho, you're with me! Trap this gene traitor for Elsman to snipe!" She opened a priority channel to the Buster. "Did you hear that, pussy? It's time to act like a man! Hope that's not too much for you!"

Dearka ignored her jibes. He knew they were all going to die once they came in contact with the Strike.

Chiyo beeped each Suit and Mobile Armor in the squad. "Technicality identified. One civilian passenger cruiser has detached from EA battleship Archangel. No weapons spotted. No explosives detected. Long range visual scanners reveal roughly two hundred civilians, men women and children, onboard. Probability of trap: 8.5%."

Jasmine opened a channel to Rau le Crueset and spoke in a somewhat jovial tone. "Commander, if we record the EA destroying a civilian vessel then it would prove to be a publicity disaster on their part. Wouldn't you agree, sir?"

"Why yes it would, Lieutenant Magunda." Rau responded clearly with an amused tone. The amusement did not sound directed to Jasmine in congratulations for the idea; but rather that he was amused that she was amused, like an owner watching their pet act foolish. "Just be careful," he added with a touch of mockery, "we wouldn't want to become badguys now, would we?"

"G-Weapon Strike, incoming!" Shiho transmitted, leading Jasmine to activate her Suit's rifle. She triggered a volley to drive the Strike more towards Elsman's Buster. To her surprise the Strike's Pilot overextended its roll like a newbie. Such a mistake, while common in rookies, would never be made by the magnificent bastard who took Lord Athrun's life.

A poor excuse of a decoy strategy in Jasmine's opinion. "Everyone, loose fire on Strike! Steer him towards Buster Unit! Elsman, get ready!"

The Buster sent a signal in acknowledgement. Its mighty cannons laid down a fire-spread that would have destroyed anything struck. The charged ion stream engulfed and consumed the small mobile fighter jets caught in its wave.

"EA's formation is broken!" Jasmine radioed new orders. "Team, move in! Attention to all Battlecruisers, keep giving me cover-fire! Elsman! Keep shooting like that and we might forget what a mistake you were! Squad B, take-SQUAD B!"

"The Aegis!" Shiho screeched. "It just took out two GINNs!"

Chiyo's now monotone voice broke over the speakers. "The EA's pilot shows considerable skill piloting G-Weapon Aegis. Threat level not at Code Red as EA technicians cannot develop a suitable operating system in so short of time."

"Keep the Strike away!" Jasmine transmitted. "I don't want us to take those two together. Commander le Crueset, can you occupy Aegis?"

"I think I can manage." One could almost hear the tiny smile on his lips. "Do your best against the Strike, let us only hope it will be better than Zala's and Joule's."

"Ooooh we will, Commander le Crueset." Jasmine beamed across the channels. "Dearka, unleash a volley! Drive that traitor to us!"

The EA battlecruisers were once again being pushed to their limit. The Mobile Suits provided too much mobility for the massive warships to handle. The Aegis used its powerful Mobile Armor form to evade, though slightly more sluggishly than Athrun Zala due to poorer programming. The Strike though…

The Strike was a disaster. Before the white and blue machine flew through the stars like an angel through heaven. Now it's handling would be called sloppy by a capable pilot and piss poor by a raw recruit. Several rounds from ZAFT GINNs and combat space-jets' shots had scored near bullseyes. Only its sturdier armor had kept it intact. If a round from another G-Weapon struck, it would surely be destroyed.

Inside its cockpit, Kira's posture was hunched over; his eyes were darting rapidly to all the monitors feeding him battle information. His hand shook as it gripped the throttle far tighter than normal as the Suit rocked from the enemy fire. For all intensive purposes, he had lost it: His unbeatable piloting prowess.

The Archangel's pit-crew were the first to realize something had cracked inside the young boy. Before, he would enter his Suit with a determination stronger than steel but lined with soft satin. They knew he would not fight to kill as many ZAFT pilots as he could but rather hurt them enough to flee, to spare as many lives as possible. The links to his friends were the source of his power.

That link was now severed. By Natarle. When he enlisted, he knew he could go a long time without seeing them; but he knew it would be worth it. For her. It was all for her because he loved her.

But she didn't love him. She never loved him. All about him she cared for was his piloting skills. The very skills he was surpassing now.

The Strike rocked again from enemy fire. Despite the heavy rounds, the worst the Strike was faring was minor smoking, the internal cooling systems putting out any fires. More explosion, more shots, a greater chance for death. And he was tempted to allow it to claim him.

Without Natarle, without Athrun, without Lacus, without his friends, without his family, Kira was so empty inside. All he wanted was to let the fires take him.

His radio was beeping repeatedly from Major la Flaga fore he turned it off after his warning. He was already dangerously close to having his Suit explode if it took one more heavy-round from either a ship-destroyer or, worst yet, the Buster. That very same G-Weapon now had a perfect target on him. Its duel cannons roared as their charge built higher.

In Kira's battles with the Bloodhawks, he gained insight into them all. Athrun was a true soldier but would not sacrifice his humanity as evident when he first prevented the Duel from killing him. The Duel's Pilot was violent and relentless, almost the antithesis of Athrun. He was always prepared to fight to the death. The Blitz's Pilot was fiercely loyal to Athrun, ready and willing to put his life on the line for him or silence anyone who would try to kill Zala.

The Buster's though, was a decent man. He would engage and retreat when ordered, but still saw it as his duty to provide cover-fire for his compatriots. They meant so much to him that he would proudly support them. He reminded him a lot of Tolles. If he ever met his friends, they would easily welcome him in.

For all the horrible things he done, Kira feels a peculiar sense of correctness over the prospect of being killed by the Buster's own. All he needed to do now was lay back and accept peace. An end to fighting, an end to all his pain.

And end to Natarle when the Buster would turn its massive cannons towards the Archangel after killing him.

Kira's eyes snapped open. She hurt him. She lied to him. She took him away from his friends. But he can't let her die.

He gripped the throttle, sparing but a glance at the Buster to determine its weapon's range and velocity. It seemed to be operating on auto-pilot as Kira had. Preferable.

The Strike's short-burst thrusters for quick short dashes were already heavily damaged and its flight system was caput. They would function enough to get him to his target but not enough to do anything else. All he had fully operational were the Strike's arms and mega-velocity Vernia Thrusters. Seven powerful battleships and three dozen Suits remained. Regaining superior speed was necessary.

Kira's eyes fell on the Buster's large cannon as he took off. The Strike carried its rifle in one hand and the beam-saber in the other. Without its comet-like speed, perfect reactions would save his life. The Buster's rounds were powerful, but not without flaws.

Hardly anyone in ZAFT high-command realized that the Archangel was meant to house all five G-Weapons. As such it possessed a full compliment of weapons, ammo, schematics, and spear parts for each. The extra parts were mostly used up during the Archangel's long flight from Helipolis, but not the firing rounds. Kira and Murdoch had analyzed every bit of it over the last few months. He probably knew the Buster better than its own pilot.

The Buster's shells, the most powerful available, had all the explosives packed in front with the base heavily shielded to prevent explosion upon firing. Its only viable flaw being the study metal insulation where they met. If that was cut through, the explosive tip would ricochet until it hit another target. That would be how Kira would win.

The first round came, leaving scars in space from its projection. And like a surgeon's scalpel, the Strike's beam saber cut through the shot, clean and perfect and safe, before moving closer.

Dearka's continued firing, already knowing how godly Strike's pilot was. Shiho, Chiyo, and even the normally unflappable Jasmine's jaw dropped.

Chiyo actually stopped typing. "Inconceivable. The probability is not possible."

The Buster fired a second time, and again Strike cleaved it perfectly in two.

"Probability not possible. Probability not possible." Chiyo started repeating, logic proving insufficient to keep her mind from crashing. "Probability not possible."

Strike continued forward, removing the thunder from each lightning bolt to leave only harmless light. Its pilot performing a feat that the Duel could perhaps, stars willing, perform once.

Dearka knew his time had come. As Athrun fell, as Yzak fell, as so many of the Bloodhawk Elites fell, so now was his time. He could only watch as the Strike spun around to cleave each blast, its beam-saber moving more skillfully then Yzak ever could. And on his last rotation, the laser blade sliced through Buster's elbow joints perfectly. Its knees and elbows being the only areas without the heavy protection armor that lined its frame.

The Strike gracefully caught its gigantic battleship-destroying gun. Had Kira been in Earth's atmosphere, the gravity of the gun would tear off the Suit's arms by simple physics. But here in space, miracles can happen.

"Str-Strike cannot use Buster's principle weapon af-effectively," Chiyo stammered, her fingers a literal blur while typing. "Str-Strike's mainframe lacks the targeting capability of Ba-Ba-Buster's own. Pra-probability of our des-destruction: Na-Nill."

"THEN WHY THE HELL DO I SEE US DYING?!" Shiho screamed over the intercom.

Because of the Fear. For Kira now wielded the lightning.

The Strike kicked the armless Buster in the back, sending it towards the EA fleet. "Capture this Suit! Major la Flaga, concentrate on the GINNs! I'll keep PLANT battlecruiser cannon fire off you! I'll keep PLANT battlecruiser cannon fire off you!"

He received affirmatives on the line. Kira set his sights on the first PLANT worship and took off at the highest speed the Strike was capable without its Vernia thrusters. Standing still to fire would doom him. The Buster's heavy duty armor put the Strike's to shame. There was also a limited amount of ammo left in the cannon. Each shot had to count.

The Strike jetted to the nearest warship, Buster's cannon readied. The battleship Panzer reared all its firepower straight ahead, yearning to kill the traitor who killed so many of their soldiers. Its cannons opened fire but the sheer power of the Vernia Thrusters kept it from locking on. Like a translucent light beam, all the shells passed harmlessly though a wave of fire.

The Gundam skidded to the warship's side, the Buster's cannon aimed down by the Suit's feet, its barrel pointed to the ship's center. Kira fired and flew off like a bank shot, his target becoming a mini-sun. The Strike rocketed away with the fireball behind it blinding its attackers.

Now the EA Suit tore through space, leaving behind a blue and white blur on its path to the next ZAFT ship. Destroying it with a single shot and adding the speed of each subsequent explosion to that of his Vernia Thrusters to breaking all the speeds it could achieve before. No targeting developed could accomplish this feat. It was all due to the pilot's godly skill.

It future military textbooks, this would be called Kira's Five Leaps. This battle would serve as the turning point for the war of eugenics between the Earth Alliance and PLANT. The ZAFT pilots could feel it.

XXXXXXX

Chiyo screeched as two entire DINN teams exploded simultaneously. What sent her into a tizzy was that there were no missiles or ship-killing guns or nearby enemies. Instead it was eighteen simple beam-rifle shots, one shot for each DINN. "Eh? I-what?! I- info… NEEDED! INPUT NEEDED!"

Shiho jerked her Suit in surprise, "How in all that was holy did they do that?!"

"The battery packs! The warships targeting everyone's battery pack!" Jasmine snapped and twisted her Suit around to keep its tiny battery backpack hidden. It saved her life as another squad in battle all exploded. "Don't show your backs! Don't show your backs!"

"Odds of twenty-seven perfect snipes on the GINNs one vulnerable spot with faulty radar equipment and regular caliber rifle rounds is… .00023%!" Chiyo nearly had a mathematical meltdown.

Jasmine hit the throttle. "Move forward without wavering-! EEK!" She barely retreated from some of the other EA's ships' firepower. "We just lost our maneuverability!"

Across the battlefield Mwu gave a grin amongst the crazy violence. "Oh yeah, the Genocide Valentine is on duty!"

Even Kira slowed, thinking for perhaps a second that another Coordinator joined the EA. Except for himself and the Major, he didn't think there was anyone who could have done that. He was readying to radio Archangel when his comm. system snapped to life.

"Whoa, you are cute! The bathroom stall does not lie!" chirped a southern-accented Texan who was looking over Kira's face despite most being covered by his helmet. "I've gots to invite you to the poker games! My heart would leap for love seeing you hula dance! Want to?"

"Eh-I'm sorry…?" Kira stammered questionably, really taken at a lost for words.

"See you on board, sweet'ums!" She abruptly switched off the comm. and went back firing, wiping out more DINNs that deluded themselves that flying faster and further away would save them. Those she didn't nail Kira went after.

XXXXXXX

Lady Jasmine actually froze with her hand on the stick shift. "WE JUST LOST THE GURREN! OH HELL! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" Her panic only doubled after seeing the Archangel nail multiple GINNs with accuracy unheard of from Naturals.

"Jazzy!" Shiho cut in, dodging madly from sharing the fate of her fellow Pilots. "Orders came in from Commander le Crueset! We're pulling back! Go grab the Buster! It's still salvageable!"

"Roger!" the Star Swords' field leader rocketed to the heavily damaged Buster. She was cut off when several shots derailed her from her course. The Aegis was coming in hard and fast. She returned fire but to her shock and awe, the EA pilot scored several hits. "The Eagle! It has to be! Team, my Suit's damaged! I need-"

"Fallback! We can't spare the manpower!"

"SHIT!" Jasmine cursed and turned tail. She waited until the Aegis had grabbed the Buster's chassis and started its return to the Archangel to open a channel to Dearka. "Elsman, listen to me! We can't pull you out and the Buster's too dangerous to fall into EA hands! Prove your loyalty! Activate your Suit's self-destruct mechanism and take out the Eagle too!"

"…no point in that." He radioed in an exhausted tone. "I'm tired of killing."

"Crap! Elsman's lost it!" Her panicked transmission hit the ZAFT central. She didn't bother to wait for confirmation to terminate him. Her GINN unloaded a volley of rounds but the Buster's heavy-duty armor took the impact even in its heavily damaged state.

The ZAFT Pilot's assault ended with Mwu la Flaga pressed the attack. The Aegis was too much for a paltry GINN and she was forced to retreat. In her rear cameras, she saw the now EA-run Aegis pulling the Buster into the Archangel. Now four G-Weapons were in their possession.

And Lady Jasmine Magunda screamed, furious over her humiliating loss, now having experienced firsthand the crushing defeat from attacking that the Strike protected.

Once more PLANT's dwindling soldiers fled as the EA only gained more courage to continue the fight.

XXXXXXX

The Strike reentered the Archangel's hanger with Major la Flaga's Aegis bringing in the limbless chassis of the Buster. Murdoch was already barking out orders to his engineer core where to start. His efforts were hampered by the squad of MPs that burst into the hanger when Major la Flaga informed them that the Buster's Pilot was still alive. He didn't like it but it was war.

But what Murdoch did like was handling these G-Weapons. They were a cut above anything he had ever cut open before. The Strike and Archangel were like nothing else in service. He honestly didn't think it could get any better until the Aegis and eventually the Duel were brought onboard. While the Strike was the speediest damn devil ever built, those two G-Weapons were sheer weapons of mass destruction.

If a city or colony needed gone then those were the Suits to do it. Murdoch only had his imagination to gauge how powerful the Buster could be. Though it was limbless like the Duel, there was nothing he could fix with plenty of elbow grease and poor engineers to do what he said. What made it so difficult was the army grunts screwing up his job.

"Stand to the side. Now!" An EA grunt barked, giving him a strange look or disgust. That was another thing that had begun chaffing at Murdoch's pimply backside. When they finally hooked up with the EA fleet, most of the new troops and even the engineers were giving Archangel crewmates a bad look. It seemed they didn't like them for working so well with Kira. There was even some talk of breaking up the crew to prevent a possible defection. Fortunately Adm. Halliburton had flat-out ignored his advisors suggesting that decision. They wouldn't be broken up as long as he was still in the game.

That didn't mean Murdoch could make waves. He stepped aside and let the troopers up the mobile stairs to the Buster's cockpit. "You! Open it!" one demanded.

"…" Murdoch walked quietly by them fore looking back. "Sure thing," he said simply. He reached over to an outside computer system hooked to the Buster and typed for several moments. After he finally overrode the safety locks the Buster's cockpit opened wide up.

The sight was a head-scratcher. Dearka was bleeding badly from his forehead and his right arm was badly burned from the Strike's beam saber's excess heat. He would definitely need surgery. But what was so strange about this encounter was that Dearka was smiling. He genuinely looked happy not to be dead.

"I'm alive," the smile was genuine, even with blood from his broken nose dripping in it. "Thank you, Lord; I am alive."

"Medic!" Murdoch yelled. Several soldiers pushed forward in a furious attempt to yank the Pilot out and arrest him but the Chief pushed them back. "Need a doctor here! Right now be good!"

Several soldiers looked ready to protest but one nasty glare from Murdoch shut them up. So they stepped aside and let the triage personal put the Pilot on the stretcher peacefully, though the EA nurses had an armed escort all the way to the medical center.

The ZAFT pilot did not look perturbed one bit. He just kept on his happy face and smiled at everyone he passed by like they were people, not the enemy. For him, this war was over.

XXXXXXX

Murrue rushed into her office and rushed to clean her normally cluttered desk desk. She didn't want to give an impression of informality to her new Pilot. Normally a Captain would have a clerk to handle their paperwork but out here on the battlefront, she had to pull that load by herself.

She steepled her fingers and put on her boss face to project her best aura of authority. It was a pale imitation compared to Adm. Hamilton but that was alright. If she could do half the job he could, she would be pleased beyond belief.

Her office door beeped and slid open, revealing Lydia standing straight and saluting. Behind her, Mwu was smiling, privy to a joke he wasn't sharing. Murrue ignored it to look her newest soldier over.

Corp. Lydia Valentine certainly looked impression. Her file showed she was an exceptional pilot, almost on Major la Flaga's level. Still… it was strange that someone so gifted would still be a corporal. The woman looked every bit as professional as Murrue herself. Certainly she had a few… odd trinkets such as the cowboy hat and spurs, and it probably wouldn't hurt if she wore a bra, but still professional mannerisms.

"Welcome aboard, Col. Valentine. Please, take a seat."

"Thank ya', Captain. I'm pleased as all get out for getting to ride a G-Weapon."

Murrue nodded while holding up her file. "Yes, according to your pilot sheet, your flight aptitude is remarkable. It's practically shocking for you to still be a corporal. You should have been accepted into officer's school and made captain, at least."

Lydia burst out laughing in a full fit. "Ho ho! That's quite a story why! Care for me to share?"

Murrue smiled softly and nodded. "I did bring it up."

Lydia grinned nostalgically. "It all happened right at the start of the war, just two weeks after my namesake's tragedy. The ZAFTies were hitting us hard in Central Asia, right near Chinaland or whatever, so I went and booted them out real good like. They scattered like vermin and my CO, Brigadier Adm. Bronson, invited me to a bigwig celebration. In his cabin, if you get my meaning."

Murrue covered her mouth to gasp and found herself reduced from a proud warship captain to a gossiping schoolgirl. "Brigadier Adm. Bronson?! Ohmygod!That'sincredible!Whathappened?Tellmewhathappened!"

Lydia leaned in to draw her new girlfriend in closer. "Yep, I found myself being propositioned by the 'respected' commander of the EU's Asia forces while his wife is busy downing wine glass after wine glass in the hotel's auditorium."

"Ohwow!Ohwow! Did you-? Did you?-" she twiddled her thumbs and actually looked embarrassed.

Lydia slapped her knee and burst out laughing. "Oh that cheating swine got a night he wouldn't remember! But not the one he was hoping! Like all steers, he thought with his steak than his noodle and walked right into trouble! I acted all kinky like and said I wanted to hogtie him and ride him bareback! He stripped down and curled up just so I can wrap him up with my lasso! HOOWIE! He was wrink-ly!"

"S-so that's when you and he-?!"

Lydia wagged her finger. "Nope! With him still gift-wrapped, I wiggled my caboose and told him I had to slip out for some special undies I had in my room. He giggled and said he'd wait. That's when I just ran over to the auditorium, found his wife, aid-de-camp, and a couple other political bigwigs and had them all follow me back to Bronson's bedroom."

"Oh! You are evil!" Murrue made a goofy grin.

Which Lydia returned. "I peak into his room, cooed some baby moans, and he started the dirty talk. Then it got louder in there than the battlefield. His wife burst in hallowing and calling him every lowdown thing you can imagine, kicking him in the ribs and screaming divorce! During all this ruckus, his aid was trying to untie him. With not much luck I might add: You're looking at the winner of last year's Texas' Tie Down Rodio! If my knots can hold down a bucking steer then there aren't no way a college boy could do it!"

"That explains why he had to step down! He said it was because of health reasons but those politicos must have forced him to resign to quiet the scandal." Murrue nodded in vigorous understanding. Then she stop stopped suddenly in sudden understanding. "Soooooo… that's why you're still a corporal? The brass ignores all your accomplishments and qualifications just to keep you in the dredges? That's so unfair!"

"Yes'em! Turns out that old horndog still had some hombres in Alaska even after he was put out to pasture! So no officer school for little ol' me!" Lydia shrugged and seemed more relaxed. "Can't say I really mind, actually. I just love to fly and I wouldn't be able to do that behind a desk. So in re'traspect, I still would have done again what I did."

Murrue Ramius looked at her newest pilot in awe and understanding. What Lydia did took equal helpings of guts and some insanity. She wasn't sure if she had the iron to pull off something so crazy. It was hard being a woman in any male dominated profession. Lydia not only had to gumption to stand in defiance but to suckerpunch it where the sun doesn't shine. Something told her that Lydia's reckless crazy attitude was exactly what she needed.

The Archangel's captain stood up and extended her hand. "Corporal Lydia Valentine, I am proud to have you among my ranks. It will be a privilege to watch you fly. I only ask that you show such initiative when fighting the enemy alongside Ensign Yamato and Major la Flaga."

Lydia hopped to her feet, showing she didn't wear a bra, and gave a mighty laugh. "Ha! My man Mwu can sure boot the bandits! That's what makes us such compadres!"

"You know Major la Flaga? Did you fly together?"

"Oh yeah, we were a great team in North Africa, but what made us friends was that he always joined my crew for Strip-Poker Saturdays!" Lydia said matter-of-factly.

"…" Murrue slowly unhinged her jaw, feeling a strong sense of fury building. "Strip poker, you say? I don't suppose Mwu played to win, did he?"

"He tried to," Lydia responded oh-so-confidently whilst thumb-pointing the gold star pinned on her chest. "But that poor cowpoke never stood a chance against this sheriff!" She then pulled out her cellphone and showed some old photos. The first was of a distressed Mwu in his boxers dancing on top of a table with army women applauding him. The second was Lydia wearing an oversized Major's uniform and chugging down an entire pitcher of beer. "Oh, I took him to the cleaners!"

"…" Murrue's joy was totally snuffed out and she stared at Lydia with a darkening expression. "Thank you for telling me that story, Corp. Valentine. You are excused now. When you meet Major la Flaga outside, send him in."

She sounded so cold and devoid of life that it was staggering that Lydia responded with a smile and a salute. "YES MA'AM!" Like a good soldier, she walked outside and waved to her old friend who was still there. "The captain wants to see you, cowboy! Don't keep her waiting!"

"Thanks, Lydia." Mwu gave his patent lady-killer smile and went in at once while Lydia kept moseying down the corridor. "You wanted to see me, Murr-? ARRRHH! WHY DID YOU HIT ME?! YOU CAN'T-! OW! STOP IT! UUUUUFFF! I AM YOUR SUPERIOR OFFICER! YOU CAN'T HIT ME! UHG! THIS IS AGAINST REGULAT-! YAHHHHH! STOP IT! STOPIT!STOPIT!STOPIT! MOMMY!"

Lydia started whistling 'Mamas, don't let your boys grow up to be cowboys' on her walkabout through her new home away from home. 'I think I'm going to like it here.'

XXXXXXX

Kira was walking through the hallways of the Archangel, his new home, and it was his home until he had served his three years. His steps were dejected as was his spirit, despite the very air of jubilance shared among the EA fleet Admiral Halliburton and Vice-Minister Allster had put together.

The newly enlisted ensign and Major la Flaga were hailed as heroes upon beating back the PLANT fleet. There were celebrations going on in the cafeteria. Kira didn't feel like going. His friends wouldn't be there. Neither would be Murdoch or Mwu as both were needed to fine tune the Aegis and eventually the Buster.

And Natarle? She was nowhere to be seen.

The Coordinator imagined a promotion was very possible in her future. She would most likely leave the Archangel, and him, behind.

This time he fought, it was only to protect her. But what of the next time? She could be gone by then. What was to become of them?

"Ensign Yamato?" asked an MP stationed outside the medical ward. "Are you here to see the prisoner?"

"Prisoner? There's a prisoner?" Kira asked weary, not really paying much attention.

"Yes sir, the Pilot of the Buster."

"…he's alive…?" Someone he had struck down had survived? It was such a strange sensation that Kira could not respond for a moment.

"Uh, sir? The doctor has listed him as stable… that's why you're here, right?"

Kira was about to say no but one thought occurred. 'He was Athrun's wingman.' The Buster worked in synch with Athrun's Aegis. They knew each other just Major la Flaga knew him. Here was someone who knew Athrun in the time that he left to meet his father. He was someone who fought alongside Athrun and also moaned for him.

After Athrun died, so many onboard applauded Kira for his victory. He and Lacus were the only ones who cried. Maybe, just maybe, he also cried.

Maybe he had found someone to talk to.

"Yes, I would." Kira nodded and faced the guard. "Please step aside, petty officer. I will be entering now."

The guard stepped aside as Kira entered. "Will you need an armed guard, sir?"

"No," Kira responded and had the door shut behind him.

Kira took in the sad sight before him. Dearka Elsman was laying on a hospital bed, handcuffed at the wrists and ankles, many bad burns across his roguish face and chest. All his injuries were heavily bandaged and covered in gauze, making the upper right quarter of his body like a mummy's. An IV was dripping pain sedatives into his good arm to keep him from screaming.

But his smile was so honest and true that Kira believed he would not have screamed even if he was taken off of the drug. He looked so happy at the prospect of being alive that captivity did not bother him in the slightest.

Dearka looked over and chuckled softly to himself. "Wow, you're awfully young to be an EA interrogator, now don't you think? Are you here to hurt me; cause the Strike already done that well."

"Eh-I'm not, I mean, it was a battle and-" Kira stammered, the captive's straightforwardness already getting the better of him.

"Yeah, I kind of thought so. You look way WAY too kind for that line of work." He shrugged, at least as much as his heavily bandaged shoulders let him. "But you still look too young to be a regular EA grunt."

"Yeah, you're kind of right," Kira couldn't stop his hands from shaking. "I'm the Strike's pilot."

There was definitely a moment of silence. But instead of resorting to blind anger, Dearka only raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I honestly would have to say I'm surprise. You're nothing like the ZAFT upperstaff described."

"Described?"

"Uh huh, I've heard everything and anything about you:" Dearka started listing off the many tall tales he heard. "You're a seven foot tall super soldier with no emotions. You're the bastard prince of some ZAFT politician who wants vengeance on his dad's race, a mega-genius computer nut who comes off as a mad scientist, you're a super Coordinator who escaped and pilots for the thrill of the kill. Heck, one of the bridgecrew described you as a dainty feminine male who cries over every shot he makes."

"Re-really?" Kira gagged, feeling very disturbed. The feelings of uncertainty and guilt were quickly fading. It may sound strange, but the prisoner—the person—changed to the bed, was rather alike Tollles, confident and fun loving, always working to make the best out of a bad situation. "Jeez, they don't sound like they know me at all."

"Gotta agree with you there," the restrained enemy patient nodded, slightly painful from the facial burns. "I'm Dearka Elsman."

"Kira Yamato." Kira answered in turn. "I can assure you that before you guys attacked Heliopolis for the Suits, I was just a normal student who did schoolwork on the weekdays and hanged out with my friends in my spear time."

Dearka bit back a bellowing laugh that could have sent his torn muscles into shock. "Man, none of us had a clue. No wonder Athrun kept such a tight lip. We probably would have all broke down in shame."

"Athrun…?" Kira whispered, a tremble in his voice. "Did you know him well?"

"Oh yeah, Athrun was field leader of the Bloodhawk Elites. We flew together for several hundred hours even before we got attacked the colony for the G-Weapons. I followed his every order because each one was the right one. I was proud to be one of his wingman. So yeah, we were a real team."

"A team?" Kira muttered to himself. Did Athrun stop making friends when he enlisted? Would he have to do that? In a warp way it made sense: Soldiers died everyday so making friends probably wasn't a good idea.

"The only time he started flubbing up was when you started handling the Strike. That was when Athrun's leadership did a 180. He stole several of the Duel's kill shots to keep the Strike in one piece. That was probably the closest he ever came to forcing a mutiny. Commander Rau le Crueset stopped it before it started, and that was that."

"That was that," Kira repeated, remembering Athrun's eyes finally closing. Maybe had Athrun been removed from command…

No, no! Only someone else would take his place. It wouldn't have solved a thing.

"Did Athrun enjoy armed service?"

Dearka raised an eye. "Enjoy it? I don't think any of us enjoy military service, except maybe Yzak and Commander le Crueset, but it was something we all took pride in. We were soldiers: We knew full well what we were getting into when we enlisted. Large scale massacres like Bloody Valentine can do that."

"Athrun told me… he told me that he lost is mother in that tragedy," Kira spoke slowly.

"A lot of Coordinators did too. My roommate at school lost both his parents there."

"Is that what made you enlist?"

"Yeah, at the candlelight vigil the night of the attack, I decided to enlist. Lot's of guys did that. Athrun though, he was different. While most of us were fired up, he looked real steady; like he knew it was going to be bad but it needed to be done."

"I came to believe that Athrun enlisted because of his father," Kira said with a bit of shame. Athrun always spoke so highly of him, it didn't feel right adding any condemnation. "Being the chief of PLANT's mobile forces in a time of war would have to make him controlling."

"Oh yeah, he's a no-nonsense kind of guy; but I think Athrun would still have enlisted even if his dad was an interior decorator." Dearka gave a little chuckle picturing Patrick Zala making a fuss over wallpaper. "Athrun was just the kind of guy who took responsibility for every little thing. That's just the way he was and that made us proud to serve under him."

"Proud to serve…?" Kira repeated, trying to understand. It was something Dearka noticed.

"Yep, proud to serve. Me, my friends, my family, everyone was smiling when I enlisted. I guess I was too. That's why you enlisted too, right?"

"I…" Kira fidgeted, embarrassed. He crossed his legs, causing Dearka to grin.

"A girl! You enlisted because of a chick!" The former Buster pilot would have gave a thumbs-up if he was strapped down to the bed. But he saw Kira looking depressed over the subject. "Oh man, she broke up with you, didn't she?"

"Ye-yes, she only did it to get me to enlist." Kira couldn't stop the flood of shame that spilled out. Finally he had someone to talk to, a fellow pilot but one who hadn't matured too far. "I thought she loved me so I signed up last night."

That caused Dearka to blink disbelievingly. "Wait? Last night? You enlisted last night? You're not regularly army? You mean you never had military training and you still trounced us every battle for the last three months? Please be joking. Seriously, please by all that is Holy, tell me you're joking."

"Eh-I'm not…" Kira rambled, having heard this before from some of the other EA soldiers. "…I never wanted to enlist until Natarle… I thought she loved me…"

Post-op went deathly quiet. Dearka looked upon the shaking boy in front of him with pity. He thought everything of everything whispered about the Strike's pilot but him being a fragile young boy that only wanted somebody to love. Looking at him now, Dearka realized the one true thing about Kira Yamato: He was as human as anyone.

"Do you still love her?" It was such a simple question that was so hard for Dearka to ask.

"Yes…" Kira didn't even have to think about it. No matter how badly she harmed him or manipulated his heart, he still loved her.

"So what's changed? You love her so fight to protect her." Dearka said matter-of-factly.

"Fight to protect her…?" It sounded so obvious from the bed bound boy that Kira struggled to find a refusal.

"That's right," Dearka nodded as much as he could bandaged up. "I enlisted because I was pissed off and too full of myself. Not the best of reasons. Yours is way more nobler. So run with it."

"Run with it…?" Kira did love her, that much was certain. He could have died at Dearka's hands during the last battle but that would have meant saying goodbye to her. Could he stay onboard just to love her from afar? He did it for his friends; so for her why not? "You think I should?"

"You're enlisted so for the next three years you've got to find a way to make it bearable. Or else you're just end up making yourself miserable." Dearka smiled, feeling rather amused that he, wild ol' Dearka, was giving advice on love. "You might make some good friends. Before we ran up against you, me and everyone in the Bloodhawk Elites got along great. You couldn't have done such a great job without a good support crew. I'm right, right?"

That gave Kira pause. There were crewmembers aboard the Archangel that helped carry the burden. Captain Ramius, Major la Flaga, Chief Engineer Murdoch, even Ensign Sally Jones. New personal were being sent over from the EA. Could they become his friends?

"I…I guess it is too early to give up," Kira answered to the despondent questions plaguing him.

"That's the spirit." Dearka gave a proud smile. "As long as you kept at it, something positive will turn up. That's what Athrun always told us before we'd head out. He was smart like that so take his advice."

Kira gave the jolly prisoner a true smile, honestly grateful for the help he has given him. "Thanks Dearka." He also thanked Athrun. Even after passing, he still did so much for him.

All he had to do was never give up. On his friends, on Natarle, and certainly on himself.

Then maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright…

XXXXXXX

"Nothing can be the same again." Natarle whispered to herself as she walked briskly to their shuttle. George Allster and his beautiful aid were just outside the entrance giving orders to one of the many officials who flocked around him and did what he asked for favors and boons. She was now one of them.

There was only one consolidation: What she did, she did for the EA and not to further her career as the others do. But then, they probably thought that too. She did get a promotion but the newly appointed captain knew that was so the Vice-Minister could keep tabs on her.

She would never be welcomed back aboard the Archangel, among her comrades, coworkers, and one she beloved. All she could do was stay who she was: a good soldier that follows orders.

George Allster's orders and not her heart.

Natarle bit back her sob and boarded the shuttle, leaving behind new loves to go deeper into the cold methodical career of the military command.

XXXXXXX

Everything will be alright, Athrun. Don't worry now one bit," whispered a cold iron voice in the darkness. "It will all be alright."

Patrick Zala stood in the morgue overlooking his dead son's already paling features. "Even in death you are as beautiful as your mother. I swear that you will be admired by all our Coordinators, Athrun my son."

The Supreme Commander could imagine the imagery. His son's visage would be set in stone. Idealistic children would be told tales of Athrun's greatness as his father gathered the rich and powerful to his cause. Zala's child would be the rallying cry that would deal the death blow to the damnable Earth Alliance.

Coordinators, all the great people of PLANT in the name of ZAFT would march forward into a grand future. Their children would have the universe as their fertile ground, and their sons the infinite. All that kept this glorious future from realization was one weak corrupt government that would not stand for long.

Oh, there would be many foolish brothers who would try and stop destiny. They would all fail. They would all die.

And Zala spoke with the detached voice of a madman. "Then everything will be alright…"

Rau, who stood outside, simply smiled before walking away, a jaunty step now in his stride. "Oh yes, everything will be all right. Nay, it will be grand."

XXXXXXX

End Chapter Three…
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Stick a fork in me because I'm done! It's been an ordeal but I've finally finished this chapter. There's only one more left people then this masterpiece will be finished. If you've noticed the drop in quality with this chapter then it's because Spiritblade is no longer handling the editing and rewriting. I'm trying to make the story just as good as when he was involved so I'm hoping you all still enjoy it.

Shiho Hahnenfuss is from the ps2 game Gundam SeeD – Never Ending Tomorrow. I thought she was quite the little bad-ass taking on all three of the Druggies and fighting them off in nothing but a custom GINN. Yes, the game does show that they fought her one-on-one and even fought amongst themselves but I still think she's a tough little bird. She's one of the few good things in GS – NET because it's a terrible game with horrible controls and bad combat. What's sad is that the game could have been pretty good with some tweaking. My favorite Gundam game is Encounters in Space with Journey to Jaburo as my number 2. Those two games are fantastic: gameplay, story, graphics, they're tip-top! Buy them and I guarantee you'll enjoy them!

Except for the games, I think I'm starting to grow out of Gundam. I thought Gundam 00 was so stupid I couldn't even watch it for more than the first six episodes. I heard it gets better but I think it's just too boring and predictable. What I want Bandai to do is dub ZZ, Victory, and Turn A Gundam. I loved Zeta Gundam and bought each DVD when they were released. It really bugged me that Bandai didn't follow up with the rest of the UC series; but I still hope that they will.

The story about Moses and Jesús was about Bright Noah and Ryu from the original Gundam. I know there is a difference between our culture and Japan but it still bothers me that no Gundam captain has ever been legally libal for deliberately butting children on the frontlines. In the real world, Captain Bright and Ryu would have been found guilty of war crimes, but in anime they are regarded as wise leaders and great soldiers. So I thought I would burst that bubble and show what would really happen.

So to everyone, please read and review and be sure to check out Spiritblade's stuff. What you'll find on his site is all golden!