CE 74
Sarik leaned casually into the corner of the officer's quarters, staring at the young Coordinator in front of him, who seemed completely content in continuing the contest.
Immediately after her capture, he had Sarah strip search the girl. What she discovered was a ridiculous amount of equipment whose purposes were often for use in assassinations and covert operations. Hidden in that red uniform of hers was a nine millimeter pistol with a silencer attachment, several knives of various sizes and uses, and a small autodermical filled with a powerful neuro-toxin. She was on more than a simple patrol mission, and her commanders obviously didn't want her to get captured alive. It was fortunate for him that she couldn't get to the poison before Sarah found it.
However, she had been unwilling to talk to anyone but him. Sarik had been reluctant to indulge her, but his gut kept telling him that her mission had something to do with either him or Stella.
"So exactly how old are you Miss Raider?" Sarik asked of the small girl sitting on a bed in front of him, already knowing the answer.
"Twelve, nineteen, sixteen, does it really matter?" she replied.
"My initial guess was fifteen, but I'm thinking that you're what, fourteen?" he remarked. "I always seem to be a year or two ahead when guessing someone's age."
Anika pursed her lips and broke eye contact. Sarik smirked, annoying the child.
"Now my question is, what is such a young girl doing in the military?" Sarik inquired
"I'm doing my duty to my people," she replied somewhat convincingly.
"To your people, or to your Chairman?" Sarik questioned.
Anika returned her gaze to Sarik, though she betrayed no emotions.
"Don't think I didn't do my research," Sarik taunted. "I know ALL about you. Your father and Durandal were old pals. From what I understand, your father was murdered by Blue Cosmos prior to your family's immigration to the PLANTs. Knowing that, it doesn't take much to figure out why joined the military. I'm thinking that the Chairman gave you a helping hand along the way, and so you are repaying him with your complete, unquestioning loyalty. As a result, he made you a part of his special goon squad."
"Do you have any evidence of this?" Anika inquired with a smirk on her face. "I'm not a member of FAITH. My records are proof of that."
"I'm not as stupid as I look," Sarik informed her. "You don't send an AWACS configured mobile suit to patrol an out of the way route unless you're looking for something. You work for Durandal, and I have something he wants. What is it?"
"I think we're done here," Anika told him.
Sarik let his body relax as he sighed, then suddenly bolted forward, catching the girl unaware. In less than a second, he had crossed the small room and formed a vice around the young girl's throat with his hand.
"Don't mistake me for being either stupid or soft," he warned her coldly, squeezing slightly. "If you try anything foolish while you are in my custody, do not think I will hesitate to kill you simply because of your age."
And as quickly as he had grabbed her, Sarik released Anika and limped out of the room. She rubbed her throat for a moment, then fell backwards onto the bed with a sigh.
* * *
Sarik quickly walked to the bridge, where both Sarah and Stella were waiting. The Ares was about fifteen minutes from the SSI flagship headquarters in Orb, and he had no intention of missing this landing.
Sarik entered and quickly buckled himself into the seat next to Sarah on the observation deck. After he was secure, he glanced over at Stella, taking note of the fact that the color in her skin was already coming back and that she seemed more alert than before. This indicated that she was probably off of the heavy-duty painkillers by now, meaning that she had to be enduring a great level of discomfort, even though she hid it. Sarik also took note of the IV that was still in her arm, pumping a combination of saline, heated fluids, and regeneratives into her body. The young doctor aboard the Ares had felt it was better to be safe than sorry, considering that she had been clinically dead only a day and a half ago.
Sarik remained silent as the Ares made its final approach on SSI's primary cargo plane runway. The 150 meter long carrier was landed gracefully by the pilot, who made skillful use of the airship's hover jets, touching down safely just a few dozen meters outside of the hangar, nearly giving some of its occupants heart attacks.
Sarik unbuckled himself and immediately took a position at Stella's side as Sarah helped her out of her seat. Outside, if everything was going according to plan, a medical team and an emergency transport awaited to move her to the main facility. The scans that the doctor aboard the Ares had performed revealed that Stella's body was filled with deadly shrapnel, though in what quantity, they were not able to determine. The regeneratives Sarik had provided her upon revival had slowed the shrapnel's progress and repaired the damage it had done up to that point, but during the trip back to Orb, the pieces had slowly begun to penetrate deeper into her body. If the shrapnel wasn't removed within a few days, a slow, painful death was imminent.
Sarik strolled protectively behind Stella as Sarah directed them down the ship's corridors, alert for any dangers. They soon entered the ship's elevator, which dropped them down to the boarding ramp that was now extended underneath the ship. They were immediately caught up in a mob of engineers, repair and maintenance crews, and a medical staff. Stella tensed and began falling into a fighting stance when they started pulling on her and yelling questions, but Sarik placed his hand on her shoulder, and she remained calm. Soon enough, they had her strapped onto a gurney in the medical transport, which then began its rush to the main facility.
Sarik became slightly unsettled when a doctor walked into the back from the front of the vehicle and began preparing a number of syringes for injection. He hated needles with a passion, whether they were intended for him or not.
"What's this?" Sarik inquired.
"Doctor Walters's orders," the young doctor replied. "He wants to begin surgery right away, but he seems to be under the impression that we can't safely place her under anesthesia. We have to get these sedatives in her now if they're to be in effect when we arrive."
Sarik scowled, but quickly relaxed. When the doctor walked over with a few syringes, he noticed that Stella was beginning to tense up again. She probably had as much of a phobia of needles as he did, most likely a result of the experiments performed on them at the Blue Cosmos facility. Sarik reached over and grabbed her hand, but she didn't fully relax until the doctor finished the series of injections. After the man finished injecting the sedatives, he replaced the bags on Stella's drip line with fresh ones and returned to the front of the vehicle, feeling unwelcome in the current environment.
Stella soon relaxed into the gurney, her body no longer able to hold itself up. Sarik continued to hold her hand, even though she could no longer feel it. She looked over at him and smiled as much as her body would allow and opened her mouth to speak, but all that left was an incoherent moan.
"We'll have plenty of time to talk later," Sarik assured her, though no emotion colored his voice.
Stella gave him face that he recognized from during their short time together at the Blue Cosmos facility. It was the same face she had used to silently ask him on multiple occasions, "Do you promise?" Sarik nodded his head slightly, replying, "Yes."
And with that, Stella returned her gaze upward for the rest of the ride.
As soon as the transport arrived at SSI headquarters, they were once again swarmed by facility staff and doctors. Among them was Doctor Walters. As he arrived, the crowd calmed enough for his voice to be heard.
"Is this the Extended?" he asked Sarik.
"Yes," he replied.
The doctor looked off to one of the doctors among the crowd.
"Get her to the O.R.," he told her, then turned his attention to the man obviously in charge of security. "No one but my medical staff is to get with ten meters of this girl. Am I understood?"
The security guard simply unlatched the cover on his gun holster.
Stella was quickly wheeled off, and Sarik was forced to let go of her hand.
"Now Sarik, I have a separate room ready for you," Walters told him as he stopped him from following. "We need to get your leg fixed up for the meeting."
"I'm not doing anything until I know Stella's fine," he informed Walters coldly.
"Now is not the time for your personal emotions to get in the way," Walters scolded Sarik softly.
"Notwithstanding, I'm going with her," Sarik replied adamantly before walking off in the direction of the medical staff. After a couple of meters, he began sprinting in order to catch up, and started to realize how truly significant the injury really was.
* * *
"Stubborn as ever," Walters remarked.
He and Sarah were the only ones left at the location of the medical transport, and she thought they looked almost like idiots, just standing there as it drove off.
Walters let out a sigh, then looked over at his wife.
"Are you alright, Blossom?" he asked playfully as he put a hand on her shoulder. "I heard about what happened."
"I'm fine," she replied softly, grasping his hand as she did. "Sarik and the pilots did a fine job protecting the Ares."
"I'm glad to hear," Walters said, then pecked Sarah on the lips. "Once again, I owe him my gratitude, and more."
Sarah blushed as he committed that act. She wasn't one for public displays, at least not anymore. She found it slightly immature in all but the most exceptional cases.
"Don't expect him to come collecting any time soon," Sarah informed him. "What you and I consider as remarkable is something that he considers routine and necessary."
"You give him too much credit," Walters told his wife. "He's a kid, not a robot."
"I think you underestimate him," Sarah replied.
"And I think your relationship with him clouds your judgment," Walters observed with a hint of concern.
Sarah scowled at him, which was returned with another peck on the lips.
"I have to go," Walters told her.
"I know," Sarah responded.
They hugged quickly, then Walters walked briskly back towards the entrance to the facility. Sarah quickly headed of in another direction. There were things she needed to arrange.
* * *
Sarik followed the crowd of medical staff as best as he could. Everyone was moving at a pace that he found slightly inconvenient to keep up with.
"How long will this take?" Sarik asked the woman who appeared to be in charge.
"We're not completely sure," she replied. "The medical equipment aboard the Ares is out of date, to say the least. We have to put the patient through another series of scans to pinpoint where we'll have to operate."
"What do we know at present?" Sarik questioned.
"We know that there's enough shrapnel for several fragmentation grenades embedded in her dermal layer, and the scans aboard the Ares showed progressive damage from its continual movement. It appears that the shrapnel is being pulled towards her heart."
"I understand that, but what about her internals? Doctor Walters spoke of bruising on her organs a couple days ago."
"That's why she can't go under anesthesia. If she were, she might end up comatose or dead."
Sarik remained silent as he brooded on his actions. It had been REALLY stupid of him to knock her out that way.
"Sir, please put these on if you're to accompany us further," a medical assistant requested, who holding up a neatly folded set of surgical clothing to Sarik.
Sarik slipped on the top and managed to stumble into the pants as they walked along.
They soon arrived at an airlock-like mechanism in the medical wing of the facility. Part of the staff moved off to other parts of the facility to attend to their next assignments as the rest entered. The door was sealed shut behind them, and the room began to fill with aerosol disinfectants and decontaminates. A minute later, a computer scanned the small chamber and, after determining potential contaminants were at a minimum, allowed the group to proceed. Sarik stayed at Stella's side until she was lifted off the gurney and onto an extended examination table from one of the machines dominating the room. He remained nearby until it pulled her into the machine.
"Sir, could you please come with me?" asked one of the doctors.
Sarik followed her to the back of the room, where a small sealed compartment was located. Sarik walked in, and one of the nurses closed the door.
"Initiate the CT scan," the female doctor ordered.
Moments later, the computer had compiled a complete cross-section of Stella's internals. The technology used now was far more advanced than it was when the concept was first applied in the medical field, allowing extremely accurate and detailed three-dimensional scanning.
"Good thing we didn't do an MRI," the doctor remarked, pointing at a large piece of shrapnel three centimeters long lodged in the back of Stella's ribcage.
"How soon can we start?" Sarik asked, even more concerned now that he knew how truly volatile the situation was. As the cross-section rotated, he could identify hundreds of fragments ranging in size from half a millimeter to a centimeter long, and some appeared to have begun pushing on her organs.
"We'll start as soon as Doctor Walters arrives," the doctor answered. "He's the one who specializes in the unique cases.
As Sarik and the medical staff were removing Stella from the scanning equipment, Doctor Walters strolled into the airlock, was quickly sprayed down, and walked on through. He was already dressed in sterile medical clothing.
"Well then, let's get started, now that I'm here," he said enthusiastically.
"If you'll come right this way," the young female doctor told Walters.
Sarik stayed with Stella as they rolled her gurney over to the operating table, then helped the staff as she was carefully lifted onto it. Once rested, she tried to look over at Sarik, but the drugs that were being injected into her body had almost completely paralyzed her motor skills.
"Don't," Sarik told her almost sternly as he brushed a finger on across her cheek. To someone else, it might have sounded cold, ridiculing, but neither of them took it that way.
A few minutes later, Walters walked over with an air of optimism.
"Let us begin," Walters said.
"And don't worry," he assured Sarik in a low voice. "She's survived this much. I don't think there's a doctor in the world who could kill her."
* * *
Sarah watched intently as her husband performed procedure after procedure on Stella's fragile body. It had been nearly two hours since the operation had begun, and everything was going surprisingly well. Sarik had remained nearby as long as he was able, only moving when he became an obstruction. By now, the medical team had worked their way down to Stella's lower body, and they had set up a curtain for her convenience, as it was unsettling to watch one's body be cut into, whether you could feel it or not.
Sarah had a particularly solemn look on her face, as she had recently been provided with a disturbing revelation. A detailed report of the incident in Eurasia had made its way to SSI, and everyone in a significant position within the corporation could be affected. The entire file sat on her lap, which she had obtained shortly after the recent defense of the Ares.
It had been confirmed by their sources in ZAFT and the the Atlantic Federation that the attackers who destroyed Berlin were from the Earth Forces, a particularly infamous and secretive unit known as the 81st Autonomous Mobile Group. They used a new mobile armor designated the GFAS-X1 "Destroy" in order to complete their mission. Normally, SSI wouldn't worry itself over such matters unless there was something to be gained from their meddling. This time, they had been meddled with.
Several of the systems used aboard the machine were derivatives of SSI designed and patented technology. This most likely meant that there was a mole within the company, either a high-ranking member within one of their research teams, or a member on the Board, who was leaking their military secrets, most of which not even the country of Orb knew about. It had to be someone higher up, as everyone involved in such projects always had someone trusted watching them, for both their personal safety and security reasons. Only someone on the administrative level would have evaded notice.
Sarah sighed to herself, as she knew what was going to happen as soon as Sarik found out. He was going to load up the first transport ready and fly out to Eurasia in order to examine the wreckage personally. After failing at his attempts to ease his conscious, he would then remain there until the damage done was repaired. And if he ever returned, he would be in a horrible state of depression, and start making rash and ridiculous decisions. She had seen similar things happen happen countless times before. Except this time, he would have an entire corporation to do so with.
Sarah set the files she held down on the coffee table within the observation room and waited for that time to come.
* * *
"Well, looks like our work here is done," Walters remarked as the table slid Stella out of the CT scanner.
"So what now?" Sarik asked.
"We'll stitch her up and hit her with every painkiller that we have," Walters replied. "She's going to have a lot of fun for the next month or so."
"What about regeneratives?" Sarik asked. "Wouldn't they allow her to heal quickly?"
"We can arrange for her to get therapy, but I would really prefer her not to," Walters stated. "I know there's no side-effects, as far as we know, but I just can't fathom how it's good on the human body to force an accelerated metabolism over prolonged periods of time."
"We'll let Stella decide after she's been properly informed of the cirsumstances," Sarik informed him.
"Very well," Walters complied.
"I.I..st...here," Stella stammered.
Both Sarik and Walters both looked down at her in horror. In order for her to have regained the motor skills to talk, one of two things must happen. Either the sedatives were running out, or her body was resisting them.
Sarik looked over at the IV rack, but everything appeared to be working.
"Doctor?" Sarik asked, concern at the edge of his normally controlled voice.
"Put the patient on morphine immediately," Walters ordered, hoping the ancient remedy would work.
Walters pulled a pad out from his pocket and began writing something on it, then yanked out the top strip of paper and handed it to Sarik. Sarik stared at Walters for a moment in confusion, then looked down at the piece of paper. He recognized it to be a prescription form, filled out for a high dosage of time release form of morphine. He would know. He had used it countless times before while he was recovering from certain injuries that he had received in past years.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Sarik questioned, handing the prescription back to Walters.
"I assumed you were the girl's benefactor, so I thought it was appropriate for you to take responsibility for her medical needs," Walters replied.
"Who said I was taking care of her?" Sarik asked.
The doctor thought for a moment, then replied with a simple shrug.
"Fine," Sarik sighed, snatching the prescription and pocketing it. He would have Sarah take it in while he went through his own surgery.
"Now that she's fine, will you please let me take care of your leg?" Walters asked Sarik.
"Yes," he replied coldly. "Let me meet with Sarah real quick, first."
Sarik put his hand on Stella's shoulder once more, which she was able to respond to this time. She reached up and grazed his hand, from which Sarik snatched his hand away reflexively.
"Let's go," Sarik told Walters, then limped off in the direction of the exit.
* * *
Sarah placed more of the room's effects into the plastic crate. She had been clearing up this particular room for Stella for the past hour, trying to make sure she found and stored everything that had belonged to the room's previous sole inhabitant. He wasn't going to be happy about the arrangements, so the least she could do was make things as simple as possible.
Sarah felt around underneath the bed's mattress and, as she had predicted, found another gun. The fifth one so far, and she had a feeling she wasn't even halfway through.
* * *
Sarik flexed his leg, feeling no pain, only stiffness.
"You always have done a good job," Sarik commented. "Thank you, Doctor."
Doctor Walters had been operating on his leg for the past hour, repairing the bits of damaged bone and muscle in his leg with artificially grown replacements. With a little regenerative therapy thrown into the mix, no one would be able to tell that he had been in a gunfight a day earlier.
"I know how the Board is," Walters told Sarik. "They can smell blood in the water. One sign of weakness and they'll pounce all over you. It was the same with your father."
Sarik frowned at the mention of his deceased parent. It was not a frown of sorrow, but disdain.
"I don't even understand why I have to keep them around," Sarik stated. "I am in all technicality the sole owner of this company."
"Your parents knew that you wouldn't be able to run the corporation on your own," Walters reminded him. "Frankly, no one can."
"Well, I only have to keep them around until I'm twenty-one," Sarik remarked. He flexed his leg once more, then leaped off the operation table. He landed as softly as possible, but pain still jarred up his leg as he did.
"I still wouldn't do anything too strenuous for the next two to three days," Walters suggested.
"Noted," Sarik replied as he reformed his composure, standing with his back straight and his head high.
"You know that the show is not necessary around nobodies," Walters remarked.
"And who's the nobody in my presence?" Sarik asked in all seriousness.
"I'm expendable," Walters pointed out. "My own wife could fire me if it came to it."
"Never going to happen," Sarik told him. "If not for your personality, then definitely for your skills and abilities."
Walters smirked, then walked off towards the door.
"Well, you're good to go," he informed Sarik. "Any projects you have for me?"
"Actually, there is," Sarik replied quietly as he walked up to Walters.
Walters nodded his head and visibly gave Sarik his full attention.
"I want you to look into an improved version of the drug you developed for me, " Sarik said. "Tailored specifically to Stella's body's needs. No one except for Sarah can know about it."
Walters nodded his head.
"I'll make it my top priority," he complied. "It would be a shame to see the poor thing in discomfort."
"Agreed," Sarik sighed before leaving.
* * *
Sarik was walking into his quarters in order to change when he noticed a pile of small plastic crates sitting outside of his door. After staring for a moment, he decided to think nothing of it as he walked into the front room, which was immaculate, as usual.
He strolled into a dressing closet in the back of the living space, changed into some more formal clothing, and left immediately afterwards. Never once did he notice the fact that his bedroom's door was closed, which it never was, nor the fact that there was another pile of crates sitting behind the couch.
* * *
The recently appointed director of intelligence waited anxiously for the president to arrive. Ostheim was over three hours late, and by now, the director could almost smell the negative emotions in the air: anger, stress, fear. The recent revelations made in Eurasia were extremely troubling for any who knew what was truly going on in the world.
As the director was about to send for a messenger, Sarik Ostheim walked into the meeting room, the air about him arrogant, as usual.
"Let us proceed," Sarik said as he sat down at the head of the giant table.
The director was impressed. The boy had come here dressed in as little as a flight suit before. This time he had actually graced them with business attire.
"Sir, we first have a few questions to ask," said the director of public relations, James Carren.
"Go on," Sarik said.
"Are you familiar with our Applied Plasma Technologies Research Project?" Carren questioned.
Carren hit a button on a remote in front of him, causing the lights in the meeting room to darken, and the large screen at the back of the room began displaying various files and images from the project. Sarik observed the slide show for a moment, reviewing relevant pieces of information.
"Yes," Sarik replied. "I was heavily involved during phase three, which was the optimization of our electromagnetic technologies for better plasma concentration. I also participated late in phase one, where we identified several isotopes that were particularly easy to produce mechanically and then convert to the plasma stage."
"So, I would assume, that you have a clear understanding of the military applications of plasma technologies and their destructive capabilities," Carren stated, not asking.
Carren hit a button on his remote, and a video began playing itself out. There were several men, including Sarik, standing around a gargantuan device that looked remotely like a water pumping station without pipes. After a few minutes of adjusting various systems, the team's members donned shaded visors and stepped back. One of the technicians began activating the device, and seconds later, a green beam shot out from a projector and made contact with the contact component of the machine, creating a sort of conduit. Things were looking worrisome, as the beam instantly began fluctuating and was even bending at places, but after the first minute and a series of adjustments, it straightened out into a perfect, smooth cylinder.
"That particular experiment was used to determine whether or not power transfer could efficiently be made with energy-based technologies only," Sarik explained. "Later, it was discovered that we had neither equipment nor the technology to produce equipment durable enough to do so for extended periods of time, thus it was not practical for mass-production."
"But the concept could easily be re-applied as a weapon, correct?" Carren asked accusingly.
"Yes," Sarik answered, betraying no emotions.
"Are you also familiar with our various Applied Particle Weapons projects?" he asked rhetorically.
"Yes," Sarik replied, a little edge on his voice. "You very well know that I worked in the theoretical division after the last war. Our surveys from the last war had revealed that standard ship-based particle weaponry had a difficult time hitting their targets at the extreme ranges of ship-to-ship combat, much less damaging them. The project's weapons never made it to the mass-production prototype stage when we finally determined how truly powerful the devices we were designing could be. But how is that project relevant here?"
"I think that the director of intelligence, Arturo Shekrov, would do a better job at explaining the situation," Carren said.
Shekrov stood up and began his presentation.
* * *
Sarik despaired internally as he watched the footage of the Destroy in action. How it would move into a city and obliterate everything, seemingly indestructible as it did so, no force able to stand up to it. He cringed internally as it fired its four super-cannons, destroying a ZAFT fortress with a single attack.
As teams of mobile suits converged on it, the battle's horrible grand finale began. Twenty guns along the machine's rim lined up and fired, emitting sickly green beams that cut through buildings, destroyed mobile units, and incinerated people, both civilian and military, by the thousands.
Then, as if nothing happened, it floated away towards its next target.
Sarik watched the footage for a good hour before the final pieces were presented. The attack on Berlin.
The mobile armor moved in on the city, this time up against a somewhat more organized defense. But it did not matter. The machine's positron deflectors prevented any attacks from making it through, and nothing, not particle beams, not hyper-velocity slugs, not concentrated missile barrages, could harm it. Soon after, the Destroy's weapons cut through the city, turning the battle into a slaughter like before, obliterating anything and everything.
But then, a new force set out against this monstrosity. The Freedom, a nuclear-powered mobile suit piloted by ace Kira Yamato in the last war, dove in from nowhere, attacking the Destroy with its beam weaponry, though to no avail.
Soon after, something extraordinary and awesome happened. The Destroy's frame began shifting, and it transformed from a saucer-shaped abomination to a form that had become infamous on the battlefield in recent times.
A Gundam.
Sarik watched in grievance as the Destroy's chest cannons charged and fired at the Freedom. However, the mobile suit was too fast and maneuverable for the mobile armor's weapons to keep up with, and the cannons' beams swept through the city, incinerating dozens of square kilometers of buildings, civilians and soldiers surely among them.
The Freedom attempted to move in on the Destroy once more, but it was stopped by fire from a customized Windam and the Chaos, a Gundam that was stolen by the Earth Forces from ZAFT. The Archangel, one of the most famous ships during both wars and the Freedom's apparent carrier, took this opportunity to join the fray, opening fire with its particle beam cannons. But, as with the Freedom's attacks, they were stopped short by the Destroy's seemingly impenetrable defenses.
Then, the hands on the Destroy detached, and FLEW at the Freedom. The weapons had a beam cannon equipped in each finger, and fired together in a pattern that few pilots could avoid. Yet, the Freedom somehow managed to dodge the assault, and was even able to return several shots at the weapons, though the attacks were stopped by the positron deflectors mounted on the mobile turrets.
Later on in the battle, three Murasames and the Strike Rouge, which was, in the last war, piloted by Orb's current Chief Representative, Cugali Yula Autha, who was currently reported missing, launched from the Archangel and joined the Freedom.
After a few more minutes of battle, the camera shifted to another vantage point, and another force was shown joining the battlefield. The ZAFT battleship Minerva, having just arrived, launched a series of modules that soon combined to form the mobile suit that had landed by the lake.
Sarik continued to watch as the mobile suit flew in at the Destroy, using similar tactics as the Freedom's pilot, and failing just as badly in damaging the machine. But then, undeterred, the Gundam charged head on with the monstrosity, dropping its rifle and drawing out a beam saber.
The ZAFT Gundam sped in, moving past the shields before they could activate, and sliced directly into the Destroy, exposing the cockpit. The Destroy's pilot reacted badly to this, firing every weapon that he could, obliterating everything around the behemoth except for the mobile suits and the battleships in the air, whose maneuvers just barely avoided the barrage.
The ZAFT Gundam, after dodging the Destroy's rampant attack, flew in for another attack, but was knocked aside by the custom Windam. Sarik was intrigued by this, as for the next few seconds, the mobiles suits, obviously on opposing sides, floated there, as if the pilots were in deep conversation.
The Freedom moved in on the handicapped Destroy, firing its hip-mounted rail guns at the cockpit. Explosions wracked the machine, and the pilot, if not dead, had to be wounded by now, though the monstrosity still floated erect.
Seconds later, the Windam broke off from the ZAFT Gundam and charged at the Freedom. Its pilot bravely and skillfully tossed an anti-armor knife at the superior machine, which stuck in the Freedom's shield and exploded, destroying the defense. But it was at a sacrifice, as the Freedom unsheathed one of its beam sabers and dismembered the Windam's arms and striker pack, which was supporting its ability to fly. The Windam fell to the earth, eventually skidding to a stop, the machine totaled.
Sarik continued to watch the battle unfold. The Chaos attempted to retreat after the Windam went down, but it, too, met a similar fate when the three Murasames surrounded it and pummeled it with beam rifle fire. The mobile suit's flight systems were destroyed, and as it fell towards the ground, the lead Murasame unsheathed a beam saber and cut the machine into two, clean portions. As if to add to the drama, the Chaos's halves exploded like a display of fireworks.
The Freedom moved in on the Destroy once more, but was forced back by the shields that were somehow still functioning. As the Freedom attempted to retreat, the ZAFT Gundam struck out at it with its beam saber. Sarik was intrigued by this. Either this pilot didn't know where his loyalties belonged, or there was a lot more going on than most could perceive.
Under inaccurate fire from the Destroy, the ZAFT Gundam slowly flew forward. After a moment, the barrage slackened, then abruptly ended. There was a moment of peace, and the battle seemed over. But then, the Destroy's main cameras flashed, and every weapon on board the mobile armor began charging. As the chest cannons were about to fire, the Freedom dove in and stabbed the center weapon with its beam saber, followed by another saber right next to it. Explosions wrack the Destroy, and it began to crash to the Earth, firing the beam cannon in its head as it did, the final roar of a dying animal.
The Freedom, Murasames, and Strike Rouge returned to the Archangel, which quickly abandoned the battlefield. But the ZAFT Gundam stayed. It circled around the site of the Destroy's wreckage and landed in front of it before the presentation went black.
As the ZAFT mobile suit landed, Sarik finally understood. He now understood that the horrible humor of fate had not provided him a golden opportunity at redemption. He had rescued a killer, a monster. And she probably didn't even know it.
But perhaps she knew the pilot. Perhaps, one day, he could learn why that boy had bothered to try and save her, after every everything she had committed.
* * *
Sarah waited outside of the meeting room, stressing over what was going to happen in the next five minutes.
Her dears were soon realized when the doors flew open and Sarik stormed out, walking briskly. He began moving down the corridors towards the facility's garage.
Sarah had to run to catch up with him, doing her best to keep at his side.
"Sarah, I want you to have the Ares and ten transports ready to go as soon as possible," Sarik ordered.
"I had the Ares begin preparations for flight immediately after we returned," she informed him. "I also had ten transports filled with humanitarian aid supplies. There's an additional two personnel transports simply waiting to be filled."
"Thank you," Sarik courtesied in a tone that indicated the complete opposite. Malice permeated from his very being.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked accusingly a few minutes later, not once averting his gaze towards her.
"I told you before, you don't need to be stressing over things until you have to," Sarah replied in a caring, almost motherly tone. "You had more important things to do than to run away on another quest of reconciliation."
Sarik stopped looked her in the eye.
"You're not my mother," he said in the coldest, most accusing tone he could. "Remember that."
Then, he ran off. She knew he was gone now.
Sarah wiped away a small tear forming in her eye, then followed after him. Stella was still waiting.
* * *
Stella sat where she had been told to by that lady. Sarik was supposed to come see her, but it had been what seemed hours. When was she going to get a chance to thank him?
She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Stella looked up and saw Sarik walking in her direction, almost running.
She attempted to stand up, but she did it too quickly, and the pain forced her back down. Underneath the extremely modest clothes that had been loaned to her from that lady, most of her body was wrapped in bandages. It was extremely difficult to move, even putting the pain aside.
She pouted when Sarik walked right past her, not even bothering to glance in her direction. It was as if he didn't even notice her.
A moment later, the lady came walking down the corridor, right towards Stella.
"Time to go," the lady told Stella.
Stella nodded and attempted to stand, a bit more cautious this time, but she locked up from the pain and slammed back down onto her seat.
The lady sighed, then pulled an autodermical from her pocket. She grabbed Stella's arm and pressed it against an exposed section of her skin. A few seconds later, Stella was hurting less, and was able to stand. The pain was by no means gone, but it was far more bearable.
The lady capped and replaced the syringe in her pocket, then pulled a prescription bottle out and opened it.
"Swallow this and come with me," she ordered Stella impatiently, handing her a pill of some sort.
Stella did as instructed, then followed the lady down the corridors. At least the woman was kind enough to slow down.
* * *
Sarik sped down the highway recklessly. The wind was playing havoc with his suit, but it didn't matter. He could die driving this fast on his motorcycle, but he did not care.
He glanced down at his speedometer, which showed he had just accelerated past two hundred kilometers per hour. If he wrecked now, death would be almost guaranteed.
How could this happen? he questioned.
How could his designs, his only notable work, have ended up in the hands of those bastards? Why did they have to re-purpose benign technology into a terror weapon used to kill millions? And why did they have to put one of his most beloved friends at its helm?
If I hadn't failed her to begin with, this would have NEVER happened, Sarik thought irrationally.
Sarik brooded as he drove on, not once having a close call. His enhanced reflexes almost guaranteed that he wouldn't wreck, even at these ridiculous speeds.
A mile down the highway, he spotted a large transport truck steaming up the road. He swerved into the other lane. Maybe, he should end it all now. It would be painless, instant. No more concerns. No more responsibility. No more guilt.
Sarik snapped out of his pessimistic thoughts as an image appeared in his head. An image of a young woman with short, blond hair filled his mind.
Sarik swerved back into his lane, though he was nowhere near colliding with the transport. Maybe, just maybe, he had one last thing to take care of before it all had to end.
* * *
Stella stepped out of the vehicle onto the blacktop. The driver had rushed her and that lady here, so obviously something important was about to happen.
She followed the woman to a building nearby, a terminal of some sort. They walked inside and down a short hallway.
The sight she beheld a moment later was amazing. Sitting on the runway in front of them was a large ship of some sort. While the basic design was that of an airplane, it was for more sleek, like an over-sized fighter, and the fuselage was bristling with well-maintained weaponry. On the underside of the vehicle was a ramp, where crew members were boarding and equipment was being loaded.
Stella limped up to the large window and braced herself on the glass. The ship was elegant, beautiful. This was the important thing.
"Could someone please locate President Ostheim?" the lady asked one of the men in the room.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but he's already boarded, and the Ares will be taking off in just a moment," one of the operators replied.
As if on cue, an alarm went off somewhere, and people started scrambling about. Within thirty seconds, the runway was completely empty except for the trolleys.
"This is Director Walters," the lady said into a radio she acquired from one of the terminal's staff. "Put me through to the President."
* * *
Sarik stood proud and erect on the bridge in his black, crimson-trimmed flight suit, watching the now-complete crew prepare the airship for launch. Now, they were showing their training, expertly executing checklists and efficiently activating the carrier's systems.
"Sir, we'll be on our way within the minute," the bridge commander informed Sarik.
"Carry on," Sarik replied.
Sarik took his seat on the observation platform and was about to strap himself in when he heard some sort of commotion going on between the communications officer and an unknown antagonist.
"What's the problem?" Sarik asked as he rose from his seat.
"Sir, there's a woman on the other end of the line wanting to speak with you," he told Sarik.
"I already told you that I don't wish to have contact with anyone right now," Sarik reminded him.
"That's what I told her, but she insists that she'll have my job if she doesn't speak with you."
Sarik sighed and took the headset from officer, then clipped it to his ear and moved off towards the edge of the bridge.
"I have nothing further to say to you, Sarah," Sarik informed her in voice low enough that no one else could hear.
"It's not me who wants to speak," she replied. "Walk to the window facing the terminal."
Sarik did so reluctantly, then peered out towards the terminal, looking for someone out of the ordinary in the observation area.
Standing there was Stella, staring out of the window at the Ares's bridge. She was holding a hand to the window. Sarah walked up next to Stella and held the headset to her ear.
"Hey," Sarik said casually into the headpiece.
"Thank...you," Stella replied.
Sarik was surprised. Sarah had brought her all this way, just so she could say those two words? Part of him thought it was a complete waste of time. The other part was dumbstruck and happy.
"Take care of yourself while I'm gone, okay?" Sarik said as he placed his own hand on the bridge's view port. "Stay alive for me."
Sarik concentrated, and he noticed Stella nod her head ever so slightly. No Natural would have noticed it unless they were standing a few centimeters in front of her.
Sarik suddenly lost his balance as the trolleys forced the Ares forward. Sarik regained his composure, then stared back at the terminal.
"You come back, all right?" Sarah ordered Sarik.
"You're very good at blackmail, you know that?" he commented.
Even from this distance, Sarik could tell Sarah's expression was not a good one.
"I promise," Sarik told her in the most assuring voice that he was capable of.
Sarik thought he caught Sarah smirking as he lost view of the terminal.
* * *
Stella watched as the Ares was carefully towed down the runway. A few minutes later, the trolleys detached, and the airship jolted forward under its own power.
She stood there for a moment, watching the carrier speed off into the distance, followed by an entire convoy of transport planes.
Stella didn't worry. He was coming back. He always kept his promises.