Resurrection and Reconciliation

by SarikOstheim

The Second Bloody Valentine War has been raging for months. Traveling through the world's wastes, the mysterious Sarik Ostheim searches for a friend long lost. But what will happen when he finds her, and at what expense to himself?

22. Chapter 21

CE 74

"As you can see, we have adapted the ZAKU Zeros' equipment configurations to best fit you and your sister's individual fighting styles," Sarik informed. "The Phase Shift Armor, coupled with the near unlimited power supply provided by the nuclear reactors aboard, would ensure your safety while piloting these machines."

Reia glanced over the datapad as the mobile suits' data scrolled down the screen, presenting reactor capabilities, weapon statistics, and system outputs. The redhead's brown eyes grew dark as she looked over the information, as if something Sarik had done insulted her.

"And I assume that you would want us to pilot these things sometime in the foreseeable future?" Reia questioned irritably.

"Possibly within a week," Sarik replied, no emotion coloring his voice.

"Why did you come to us?" the fifteen year old girl asked, her voice most efficiently projecting anger, something that Sarik hadn't ruled out as a possible reaction. Other than during their relatively undocumented time in the Blue Cosmos conditioning facilities, the girls hadn't been in very many life and death situations, none of those actually resulting in the latter for anyone. Now, he was asking them to throw away the sense of security that they had been allowed to follow him onto a potential battlefield, if such a time ever came.

Though in his mind, it wasn't if, but when. Sarik and everyone he knew were in the middle of so much, conflict seemed inevitable.

"Because you and your sister are among our best pilots," Sarik told her. "And because you two are some the few people I trust."

Reia glanced back at her sister, who stood a few centimeters behind her. But her sibling's stance wasn't like that of a guard. It never was. Ballari, or Ari, as she often went by, generally didn't interact with others, and was not often one to step up and publicly do anything. Reia spoke for the both of them most of the time. The girl had been this way for as long as Sarik could remember, always content to follow her sister wherever she lead. Having a near death experience at the young age of seven or eight could scar a person. Sarik knew this from experience, though he had ended up on the extreme opposite of that spectrum.

"How long have we known each other?" Reia inquired after a moment of thought.

"Almost nine years, now," Sarik answered.

"And in those nine years, you've been one of the few people that Ari speaks to," Reia stated. "She trusts that you'll protect her like you promised. How do you intend to do this if we're piloting mobile suits in the heat of a battle?"

Sarik sighed as he scratched the back of his head. When he was younger, he had a tendency to occasionally let his emotions control his actions. He had made several promises and agreements then that were becoming increasingly more difficult to keep as time went by, his age and general responsibilities growing larger in number by the year. This was one such promise. But given the current circumstances, he needed their help. He needed everyone's help.

"I wouldn't ask this of you if I thought that you two had so little as a poor chance of survival," Sarik informed Reia softly. "You two are our best, and better yet, you started this up on your own. The other day, your instructor was telling me how yours and your sister's piloting skills nearly surpassed his own."

"You're just saying that," Reia remarked.

"Um...I heard him say that too," Ari informed her sister quietly. Not only was Ari's manner of speech more timid than her sister's, but her voice generally came across a couple pitches higher, though Sarik had to admit, the sound was anything but annoying. Refreshing during the worst of days, and something to smile about on the good days. And by no means did it make her sound any younger than she was. Had he only known her by her voice, Sarik would have envisioned a motherly figure every time he heard it.

"All right, but still," Reia insisted. "There have to be better pilots than us for this."

"There may be, but I doubt any of them could pilot machines like these, only being Naturals," Sarik informed. "These ZAKUs were rebuilt to allow both of you to push your abilities without straining them or yourselves to the point of failure."

"We don't care about any of that!" Reia almost yelled. "We're fine right now. We don't NEED to push ourselves in anything."

"I don't want you flying with an attitude like that," Sarik stated. "You don't have to pilot these. I was just hoping you two would. As a favor. To a friend."

"I think we'll have to pass," Reia informed him with contempt, at which Sarik sighed.

"Well, thank you for at least talking," Sarik told her with some unintentional emotion in his voice. "I really do appreciate it."

Sarik glanced at Ari one last time before turning about to leave the room. It amused him to see how different the sisters had become over time. Reia was so forward, so impulsive, and projected the arrogance and confidence of royalty, which could sometimes scare people off, the girl only being fifteen. Ari, on the other hand, was more timid, somewhat conservative, and a bit more comfortable to be around, her presence more like that of someone her actual age, an attribute rarely found in an individual after having survived through the harsh upbringing of an Extended. Though by no means did Sarik allow that to cause him to underestimate her. She HAD survived that upbringing, hinting at a buried but strong resolve.

Their differences were even noticeable in the way they physically presented themselves. Reia was always in the lead, standing tall, and sometimes even a little puffed up, while Ari would always follow a half-meter or so behind her, generally unnoticed as she inconspicuously hid inside of her sister's presence. Even their hair was different, Reia's hanging slight past her shoulders and often tied up behind her head, while Ari's was much longer, resting halfway down her back and often left to flow freely through the air. Though they were identical twins, there was no mistaking one for the other.

As Sarik continued down the corridor in his search for the next candidates, he suddenly realized that someone was immediately behind him, a strong hand clamping down on his forearm soon after.

"Sarik," Reia said calmly as he let her pull him around. "We'll do it."

Sarik stared down at the girl, the surprise quite evident on his face.

"What caused the change of heart?" he questioned all in all seriousness.

"You can thank her," Reia told him, motioning her head towards Ari, who was strolling towards them from several meters away.

"Thank you," Sarik courtesied in all honesty as he placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. He had always considered her and Ari the youngest in what he considered an extension of his family, Amelia and Aaron being ranked as his barely younger siblings, and wasn't afraid to show his affection towards them in private. "You really don't know how much this means to me."

"Get one thing straight, and get it now," Reia said as she shrugged off his hand and poked a finger in the center of his chest, her sudden change in demeanor almost catching Sarik off guard. "We're not here to die for whatever little crusade you're planning to go on. If Ari gets hurt, I will hunt you down and kill you in the most slow and painful manner that I know. If something happens to ME, I'll walk through all nine circles of hell and drag you down to join me."

Sarik allowed his emotionless composure to fall over him as he stared into the girl's eyes, the orbs portals into her mind. She meant every word that she had just said, her determination evident and unquestionable. At times, Reia could scare him more than Amelia.

"Great to have you on board," Sarik remarked as he broke away from the redhead's grip and began strolling back down the hallway, moving at a pace just slightly faster than normal.

* * *

"So, where you headed?" Amelia questioned as Sarik rounded the corner, her ambush nearly causing him to jump back into a most likely futile fighting stance. That's why she scared him so much; she could follow from a meter behind him, and he'd never realize it.

"I'm going to be informing the Corsair's new commander of his promotion," Sarik told her.

"And who would that be?" the teenage girl questioned, attempting to act as innocent as she possibly could. Which, from Amelia, was awefully convincing.

"That's to remain a secret, for now," Sarik informed her. "Any other questions?"

"Ya," Amelia said. "Where the hell did you get your hands on those ZAKU prototypes? Their mere existence was essentially banned by the Junius Treaty."

"You don't think that anyone would just get rid of something so expensive, would you?" Sarik asked rhetorically. "The Earth Alliance obviously didn't get rid of its nuclear missiles. Why should one assume that ZAFT rid itself of its nuclear powered mobile suits, or even end its research into their further development?"

"That doesn't answer my question," Amelia retorted. "How did you get them? In fact, how did you get that GuIAZ, too? The Firearms Type is equipped with the same weapons as the Freedom and Justice were. ZAFT wouldn't have handed it over a billion credits."

Sarik cringed at the sound of that name, Freedom. He had recently been informed of its destruction, along with the unconfirmed sinking of its carrier, the Archangel, both events caused simultaneously by forces coordinated from the ZAFT trans-atmospheric battleship Minerva. Sarik really didn't have to think about Chairman Durandel's ulterior motives after that, as the Archangel had been the symbol of power to those individuals and organizations who just simply wished for this to all end, remaining the one truly neutral party in the world's conflicts, even after Orb's alliance with the Atlantic Federation. Only the purpose to which these actions were a means remained a mystery. Obviously, it was something so radical that the Coordinator feared the Archangel's intervention. Rightfully so, as together Kira Yamato, the Freedom's pilot, and the other crew of the Archangel had an overall casualties inflicted record including hundreds of mobile suits and over a dozen warships in the last war.

"I located them in one of ZAFTs deep space military outposts past the moon," Sarik informed her. "They were sitting around, gathering up dust. A few million of my credits to their keepers, and all I had to do was smuggle them out."

"And how did you manage that?" Amelia inquired.

"Well, you see, that same day, there happened to be a small breach in the hangar portion of that base," Sarik informed the teenage girl. "No one was in that part of the facility at the time, but unfortunately, the breach grew so large that a number of vehicles, several mobile suits among them, were ejected so quickly that none of ZAFT's recovery ships could get to them in time."

"And so you took the opportunity to exercise your law-given salvage rights," Amelia continued.

"Well, not me," Sarik corrected. "At the time, I was here, finishing the last semester of my four-year in college."

"You're kidding," Amelia remarked with little emotion. "That was over a year ago."

"It had to have been, or those mobile units wouldn't have been stored so carelessly," Sarik noted. "In fact, if I hadn't taken them, they probably would have been sent to Armory One for refit with their counterparts."

"ZAFT would have been fools to not," Amelia observed. "Though those were probably stolen or destroyed by the Earth Forces like the other mobile suits there."

"Yep," Sarik agreed. "Anything else?"

"Nope," Amelia informed him.

"All right," Sarik said enthusiastically. "Remember, we're doing maneuvers tomorrow. You need to make final adjustments to the GuIAZ and report to the Somestraba by nine hundred hours."

"You sound as if you'll already be out there," Amelia noted.

"I'll be spending the next few days aboard," Sarik informed her. "Just as soon as I make arrangements for Stella."

Amelia glanced at the ground, her hand beginning to ball into a fist at her side.

"Can you please not talk about her?" Amelia requested.

"Why?" Sarik asked.

"Just...don't," Amelia ordered Sarik darkly.

"I'm sorry," Sarik apologized sincerely. "Has she done something to upset you?"

Amelia made eye contact with Sarik and scowled before turning off into a branching corridor. He remained still for a moment, staring off at the blond in confusion.

* * *

Sarik strolled into his room with a sigh. Today was proving to be interesting, to say the least. Convincing someone to command a ship that didn't officially exist yet was to be quite a challenge, especially when he seemed to have a slight inferiority complex going on. What was going to be even more interesting was getting the Corsair's bridge crew trained within the next couple of weeks. Enough to make some sort of a contribution in a combat scenario, anyway.

As the young man moved opened the door to his oversized closet, he detected a subtle breathing immediately behind him. Sarik glanced off to his right to discover Stella looking over his shoulder, clothed in a purple sundress far more modest in design than some of the others that he'd seen her wear.

Where was she hiding? he wondered.

Perhaps she hadn't been. If she had been able to sneak up on him so easily, Stella may have very well just been able to blend in with the background, another unnoticeable object in the room to be overlooked. It was certainly a useful skill to have. Of course, Sarik most likely had just been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd let his guard down. It troubled him, because he had been doing that a lot lately. He used to NEVER let his guard down, even when he was resting.

Sarik turned his attention back to the closet, nearly letting out a curse underneath his breath when he found a number of dresses hanging where his clothing should have been. Sorting through the mess, he eventually located his things, shoved all the way in the back. He would have to thank Sarah for this later.

As he turned about, Sarik realized that Stella was still standing there, her back straight and her arms clasped behind her back, as if she were a subordinate awaiting her orders. But that would make sense, as she had been an unofficial operative in the Earth Alliance forces, hadn't she? And being an Extended, especially one as talented as Stella, they would have ingrained strict obedience into her. Maybe she was so dependent that she needed orders to go about her daily tasks, or at least some sort of authorization? It was a good thing that Sarah was checking up on her several times a day.

"How has your stay been?" Sarik asked Stella as he bent down in the closet to open one of the plastic boxes that his things were now stored in, searching for some of his more "military" outfits. He didn't know, or even really care what the carrier's crew wore on a daily basis, but he felt that he had a personal responsibility to set an example of discipline and conservatism. That's why he preferred the short, military haircut. He didn't really favor the gel-based styling that so many boys his age sported.

"Uh....fine?" Stella replied uncertainly. She still seemed to be quite timid around everyone, even though it had nearly a week since she arrived. Of course she would be. This environment was probably worlds away from the one she had grown up in.

"That's good to hear," Sarik remarked. He hadn't had a real break in the past three days, so he really hadn't been able interact with Stella very much but in the evenings, generally just an acknowledgment of her presence before he collapsed onto one of the couches in the front room and feell asleep. So far, he'd done a poor job at personally taking responsibility for her welfare like he was supposed to be. "Have you been of the room much?"

Sarik heard a slight thud and glanced back at Stella, finding that she had slumped to the floor, her legs locked together and sprawled off to one side. A sad expression dominated her face, something that did little to compliment to her features.

"What's wrong?" Sarik inquired, crawling within several centimeters of his old friend.

Stella glanced back up at him, her eyes showing hurt. Like the kind she would express when they would take him away for days at a time in the Blue Cosmos facility. So that's what was troubling her.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been around a lot lately," Sarik told her, placing his hand over hers on the floor. "As soon as things settle down, I PROMISE I'll be around more. All right?"

Stella looked at him and nodded, her expression lightening slightly.

"Until then, if you need or want anything, all you have to do is ask," Sarik informed the younger girl as he began to move back into the closet.

But before he could, Stella grabbed his hand and practically leaped onto him, forcing him into an embrace. Sarik began blushing almost immediately, but quickly controlled himself. That was the virtue in this situation: control. But at the same time, a little discretion wouldn't hurt either, would it? She might take it the wrong way if he forced himself out of her grip.

Sarik returned the embrace, puling Stella closer to himself. He had to admit, this wasn't unpleasant. And part of him worried because of this. He had to be careful to not cross the line, especially with Stella. He'd come too far, and he had too little time.

During the moment that Sarik held Stella, he realized that they had never shared anything of this sort, not in this deliberate of fashion. Even in the Blue Cosmos facility, eleven years ago, their relationship was never...physical, in the literal sense of the word. In fact, there were relatively few words to it, at least between them one-on-one. It had been a silent, mutual thing. They had come to understand each other so well that they were able to recognize the other's body language easily enough to quickly realize what was going on with the other.

As Sarik realized how long they had been sitting there, he began to slowly separated himself from Stella, lightly patting her thrice on one of her shoulders before unwrapping his arms from around her back.

"So you really haven't got out much, have you?" Sarik asked as he came to a sitting rest, propping his right arm against his folded leg.

"No..." Stella answered solemnly, resting her hands on her legs.

"Well, there's some things I wanted to get you tested for, anyway," Sarik remarked as he rose to his feet and held out a hand to the girl. "Would you mind that?"

Stella smiled and shook her head as she took his arm, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

* * *

"You really think I'm qualified for this?" Sarik inquired of the Coordinator before him, his and many other SSI Extended's hand-to-hand combat trainer for several years, now. "I had intended for you to do the testing."

"Of course," replied Takeo. Though the brown-haired man's origins could be traced back to Asia, from Sarik's understanding, he had never visited the continent or any of its islands in his entire life. However, his parents apparently had done an excellent job in ensuring that the combat arts of their ancestors were preserved, as only until the past few years could Sarik hold his own against the man in a fair fight. "I'll keep an eye on you and end it if I think things are getting rough. You'll be fine."

"All right," Sarik said. "Now we just have to..."

But he abruptly cut himself off as Sarah strolled into the padded room followed by Stella, who was now dressed in a loose fitting t-shirt and sweatpants, just like Sarik, Takeo, and the large number of Coordinators, Extendeds, and Natural security personnel that stood around the room's edges as observers. During sparring sessions, flexibility was encouraged, because if one was using their hands and feet to fight, it was often because they were unarmed, which usually meant that they weren't encumbered by body armor and field equipment. Learning to be able to put the entirety of one's focus and effort into a fight was an essential if one was to win the said melee.

Stella, though unwavering in her steps, began glancing around the room, memorizing the locations of every one of its occupants. Sarik could empathize: he didn't like having deal with crowds of strangers, either. But, over time, these people no longer be strangers to her. Hopefully Stella realized this, and would be able to settle in quickly, before he was gone.

"Are you sure this is fine?" Sarah asked Stella, apparently continuing an already ongoing conversation. "If you feel uncomfortable, all you have to do is say no."

"Yes," Stella replied, nodding her head in the affirmative. She was going to stay.

Sarah glanced in Sarik's direction.

"You better take extra special care of her," Sarah threatened. From the black-haired woman's tone, Sarik figured that catastrophic consequences would result if he didn't.

"Of course," Sarik assured her.

"Good," Sarah remarked before leaving.

Takeo stared off at the rooms entrance, his expression that of morbid curiosity. The man snapped to a moment later.

"Well, might as well get started," he suggested. "Sir, would you please provide these two with mouth guards?"

One of the spectators pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning against and grabbed a pair of packaged objects from a small table near his location. The young man tossed one to Sarik and Stella each.

Sarik snatched the package from the air and popped it open, revealing a plastic mouth guard. This was really all the protection equipment they ever used in the upper levels, where the fights were often intense and fast. It was actually safer among the Coordinators and Extendeds to be able to restrain their opponent unhindered than to beat away at each other with gloved hands.

A moment later, both Sarik and Stella were situated opposite of each other by several centimeters, awaiting further instruction. Stella appeared extremely tense, as if she were expecting an attack at any moment. Sarik smirked. This was going to be interesting, for once. Most of his opponents didn't hold up for more than a minute before he forced them into submission. Perhaps Stella would go longer, or maybe even create a stalemate.

"All right, Stella, here's what we're going to do," Takeo started. "In a moment, I want you to attack Sarik-"

Sarik tensed up as Stella launched herself at him almost instantly, her hands a blur. He attempted to defend himself, but the younger girl most definitely got the jump on him, and before he knew it, she had one of his arms pinned painfully behind his back and was forcing him to the ground. Sarik smashed into the floor face first, the entirety of his and Stella's weight behind the impact. Takeo rushed in and managed to catch Stella's arm just before she brought a flat-handed blow down into the back of Sarik's neck.

"Miss Stella, please settle down!" Takeo yelled as she began to struggle. The girl froze, her only movement the rising and falling of her upper body as she panted. A moment, she released Sarik's arm and moved away from him, a hint of instant regret among her currently nearly-emotionless features.

"Are you all right, Sarik?" Takeo questioned in an almost chastising manner as the young man rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his head.

"Ya, I'm fine," Sarik informed him. "I don't think there's any permanent damage."

Sarik rotated around towards the audience when he heard light laughter coming from some of the spectators. He didn't appreciate being mocked in the least, especially not by inexperienced whelps such as these.

"Perhaps you would like to try for a round?" Sarik suggested in a serious tone. As he expected, the room fell silent. Typical.

"I will," said a young woman's voice from the sparring room's entrance. Sarik spun about once again to find Amelia leaning against the door frame, dressed in the same shirt and sweatpants as everyone else in the room. Sarik wondered why she felt the need for the dramatic entrance. It generally wasn't her style.

"If that's all right with Stella," Sarik told her, then turned toward Stella. "Would you be fine with that?"

But Sarik quickly realized that Stella wasn't paying him any attention. She was looking over at Amelia, her expression and demeanor completely unrevealing. Just like when any of the trained Extendeds were examining a target. Based on the the abruptness of Stella's change, Sarik had to wonder, did she recognize Amelia?

"Stella," Sarik said forcefully, trying to get her attention.

Stella snapped out of her silent state and looked up at him, her demeanor more similar to what it had been before. Right now, she looked completely innocent, not even remotely threatening. It was such a great deception that Sarik generally forgot about what she could do until he or someone else was on the receiving end of it. He had to get the image of that innocent little girl out of his head.

"Yes," Stella agreed emotionlessly.

Sarik made eye contact with Amelia and nodded, then glanced over at Takeo for confirmation. The glare he received from the man was comparable to those he used to receive from Sarah in years passed. Sarik walked over to the man, so that he would be outside of earshot of the others during what was obviously going to be an argument.

"What are you doing?" the instructor inquired quietly.

"I'm allowing the two of them to spar," Sarik told him.

"Someone's going to get hurt," Takeo speculated.

"I trust Amelia will use discretion as much as myself," Sarik assured Takeo.

"It's not her I'm worried about," the older man expressed. "You know what Stella just did."

Sarik stared off at Amelia for a moment in thought. This might actually be a bad idea, he had to admit, one he had agreed to without much thought. If she wanted to, Stella could overpower any individual in this room, if she caught him by surprise.

But she wouldn't have that kind of advantage this time, would she? The spar would be on completely even footing. And Amelia was as experienced in unarmed combat as him, though her fighting style relied on accuracy and the targeting of apparent weak spots, while his relied more on being able to overpower his opponent with speed and force, with a few exceptions, such as when in his frenzy he could discern an opening in his enemy's pattern of attack.

"They'll be fine," Sarik said adamantly.

Takeo sighed.

"You may start when you're ready, ladies," Takeo informed the two.

Sarik watched as Stella fell down into a fighting stance, but a few seconds later, by when he thought she would attack, the teenager was still in the same position, motionless but for her breathing. Interesting. Stella had been so aggressive earlier. Was she aware now that she had snapped earlier?

Sarik's eyes narrowed as he caught Amelia smirking just before launching herself forward at Stella, her arms and legs moving at speeds only to Extendeds and Coordinators could react to. Stella retaliated with her own attacks, blocking every one of Amelia's blows and counterattacking, some of her thrusts getting through. But so far, both of the girls were using plenty of discretion, neither of them actually causing harm to the other when they made contact. Sarik was proud of both of them, because there were many people several years their senior that he couldn't trust to be so careful.

The two blonds continued trading their mock blows, Stella growing increasingly defensive as Amelia's offensive grew progressively more aggressive. It appeared part of the reason behind Amelia's push was that Stella was growing progressively more hesitant, most likely trying to avoid causing the other girl harm, even in the smallest extent. Sarik knew that he would have to intervene soon, or someone WOULD get hurt.

But before he could take any action, Amelia lashed out at Stella with obvious intent behind her blow. Her forceful jab made contact with the other girl's jaw, and it went downhill from there.

Stella, unwilling to take obvious this punishment, retaliated, bringing up a kick as she recomposed her posture, catching Amelia in the side of the knee, followed by an uppercut that made contact with Amelia's, snapping her head upward. The blond stumbled backwards, a crazed smirk dominating her face the entire time. Amelia regained her balance, then launched herself at her newfound rival. She and Stella traded malicious blows for a few seconds more until Amelia managed to restrain one of Stella's arms with her left hand. The teenage Extended brought her right hand back in a fist and punched Stella across the brunt of her face, blood starting to settle on the girl's face. Amelia pulled her arm back to in preparation for a second blow and let loose.

But Sarik had made his way over to them by then, and forced himself between the two girls. Amelia couldn't stop herself, and her blow smashed its way into Sarik's chest, the entirety of her rage behind it. However, Sarik held his ground, standing stiff as a wall despite the fact that every ounce of air had just been forced from his body.

Sarik glared at Amelia as he broke her hold on Stella by grabbing her forearm and squeezing with all of his might. Sarik loosed his grip on Amelia slightly and drug her out of the sparring room angrily.

"What the hell...was that?!" Sarik yelled in between pants as he closed the door to the chamber.

"What do you mean?" the girl questioned almost innocently.

"I'm not stupid!" Sarik spat angrily.

"Would you please let go?" Amelia requested with malice in her voice. "You're hurting me."

Sarik looked down and realized that he was squeezing the girl's arm even harder than before, the skin around where he gripped her beginning to turn a dark red. He loosened his hold, Amelia quickly pulling away as she rubbed her sore arm.

"Now, answer me," Sarik ordered forcefully. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing whatsoever," Amelia replied sarcastically. "I was just a replacement, after all."

"What the hell?" Sarik said. "Replacement? Where on Earth did you get that from?"

"Admit it," Amelia taunted arrogantly. "We're the same age, about the same size, have the same hair color..."

"No, you do not," Sarik interrupted in a slightly humored manner. "Yours is much lighter..."

Amelia's face turned absolutely sour, and she threw a punch at Sarik. He remained unmoving ,and allowed the small girl to land the blow in his stomach. Coming from one of his few equals in unarmed combat, the attack knocked Sarik to the ground, a truly surprising amount of strength behind it.

"You always have to be such an ass, don't you?" Amelia questioned before walking off briskly.

Sarik quickly stood back up and ran after her, attempting to catch his breath for the second time today as he did. She always had to get so irrational whenever she got upset about ANYTHING, didn't she? She had acted like this the time that he accidentally stepped on and broke one of her hairbrushes when he was thirteen.

"Amelia!" Sarik yelled, trying to catch her attention.

But she kept on walking, obviously ignoring him.

Sarik sprinted up on the girl, grabbing her on the shoulder. Amelia tried to yank away, but he kept his grip and pulled her out of the corridor into a stairwell.

"Leave me alone," the girl ordered in a threatening tone, her eyes conveying the most hatred Sarik had ever perceived from her, even towards her enemies.

But, ignoring her demeanor, Sarik impulsively pulled Amelia into a hug, holding her there. Amelia tried to force herself away from him but, after realizing his hold on her was adamant, gave up. Nearly a full minute later, Sarik released the girl.

"Sorry," he apologized as he moved back several centimeters, scratching the back of his head with a passion the entire time.

"What was that?" Amelia inquired coldly, glaring at him.

"I don't know," Sarik admitted as his arm fell to his side. "It seemed right."

"I didn't realize that you had a conscience," Amelia remarked.

Sarik sighed.

"What's wrong?" he questioned considerately. "Seriously?"

"I already told you," Amelia informed him, an even colder demeanor falling over her. "I'm a substitute."

"Do you really believe that?" Sarik asked.

"Do you really not?" the girl inquired.

Sarik stared off at the wall for a moment, thinking over everything that had happened during the past eleven years. Was she a replacement? He had never thought of her that way, and he didn't like to think so, but what did his actions say? Why had he chosen her out of hundreds to associate with? Some subconscious desire manipulating his actions, all those years ago?

"Maybe...you were," he admitted grudgingly, then returned his focus to Amelia's eyes. "But if you ever were, you haven't been for a while now. I have never tried to compare you to Stella, nor her to you."

"So the truth finally comes out," Amelia remarked, apparently ignoring the second half of everything that he had said.

"What is your problem?" Sarik growled. "I'm trying to work with you here, and you're just being flat out stubborn!"

"So what if I am?" she asked. "How would you act if you were used for half of your life, just to be thrown out like a piece of trash?"

"Who said anything about throwing anyone out?!" Sarik yelled. "Where do you get these things?"

"Since SHE got here, you've been doing nothing with your free time but take care of her, and then some," Amelia observed.

"'And then some?'" Sarik repeated angrily.

"Do I have an echo now?" Amelia taunted. "I saw you two when you got back after your little 'trip' a couple days ago. You know, after your little incident?"

Sarik averted his attention towards one of the walls and started chuckling.

"You really are ignorant, aren't you?" he almost laughed. "You think you know it all. You have no Earthly idea what happened in that town, do you? I bet you haven't even bothered asking Sarah."

"I don't need to," Amelia said. "I think the way you were holding each other explained plenty."

"Did you know that Stella has a block word?" Sarik asked calmly.

"And?" Amelia questioned.

"Do you know what happens when an Extended is exposed to that word?" Sarik inquired rhetorically. "Physically and emotionally?"

"Yes," Amelia answered.

"Well, now you know," Sarik told her.

Amelia glared at Sarik for a moment longer, then averted her gaze towards the ground.

"It doesn't change the fact that you used me," she informed Sarik as she wiped a tiny tear from her cheek a moment later. "Don't expect anything from me any time soon."

Sarik watched Amelia as she left the stairwell, then smashed his fist into concrete wall, nearly yelling in pain as one of his fingers partially dislocated itself, popping back into place on its own.

This was what happened every time, wasn't it? Everyone got along fine until something, small or big, came along. Then all bonds, all respect, all understanding, went out the window, as if he betrayed his nation or something, as if he were a traitor through and through. Ultimately, the only one you could rely on was yourself, wasn't it? He seemed to be the only one seeing things rationally in this world anymore.

* * *

Sarik strolled back into the sparring chamber to find that it had been almost completely vacated but for Takeo, Stella, and now, Sarah. Sarik's mentor sat on the floor with Stella, cleaning the girl's face with a disinfectant wipe of some sort. Stella didn't seem to be paying much attention to much of anything, her gaze directed down at one of her hands, which rested on the ground.

"That was stupid," Takeo said bluntly as he left.

"I had no way to know that Amelia would react like that," Sarik replied to the man's back, though the words were more for himself as the man left sight. "And yes, it was stupid. I should have seen it coming."

"You're right, you should of," Sarah remarked from the floor.

Sarik averted his gaze to the black-haired woman, whose attention still seemed to be on cleansing Stella's injuries.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sarik inquired.

"You've know Amelia as long and as well as I do," Sarah reminded him. "You know how protective she is of those she cares about. And how jealous she can be of those same people. Remember that short period when you and Aaron were doing practically everything together?"

Sarik pondered this for a moment. The combination of the two emotions could prove volatile, as he had already witnessed. But the last part troubled him. Jealous of those same people? Was Sarah implying that Amelia, on some level, cared for Stella, too? Even though the two had only known of each other for a couple of days? Or perhaps, because he cared, she felt she had to, also?

Sarik shook his head slightly. This was getting far too complicated, even for him. He had never done well at the social aspects of life.

"What would you have me do about it?" Sarik questioned. No point in speculating or arguing anything further. Now, it was time to fix the problem, rather than continually adding on to it.

"That's for you to figure out," Sarah told him as she stood, finished with Stella. "But you have other things to worry about right now."

"Actually, would you mind watching Stella for the next few days?" Sarik requested. "I meant to ask you sooner, but I just never got around to it."

"Why?" Sarah inquired.

"I was going to spend some time out on the carrier," Sarik informed her. "Participate in some of the maneuvers."

"No," Sarah replied bluntly.

"Why not?" Sarik asked.

"Because I said so," Sarah answered boldly. "Why don't you take Stella with you?"

"I was just planning on taking one of our Spearheads," Sarik told her. "One of the single-seat variants."

"Why don't you take the Windslider?" Sarah suggested. "That has two seats."

"Sarah!" Sarik exclaimed involuntarily.

That was his personal fighter plane, a machine that had been designed personally for him when he had begun flying a few years earlier. At the time of its fabrication, it was superior to the Alliance's F-7 Spearhead and FX-550 Skygrasper fighters, with nearly twice the flight range, slightly more maneuverability, and stealth technology as advance as one could get without the use of a Mirage Colloid cloaking system. Over the last couple of years, he had modified it with a more modern suite of weapons, the configuration somewhat resembling that of a Skygrasper's. In fact, the Windslider could now mount both Alliance and ZAFT designed expansion modules, giving the fighter a great deal of adaptability. With its accumulation of modifications, however, even when encumbered by the heaviest of Striker packs, it still outperformed a Skygrapser in identical circumstances by at least a slight amount.

Sarik's face tightened upon hearing the name, as the mere mention of the plane brought back a series of memories, both positive and negative thoughts attached with them. It had been his father who had the craft built, the project completed shortly before his death. The Windslider had been so secret that Sarik had actually ended up fighting against it before learning of its existence. Since then, he had only flown it a few times, as he intended to keep its capabilities, and if possible, even its mere existence, a secret, though with the way things were, all of the major nations probably had its technical data locked away in some low-level government facility.

"You do realize what kind of people are out there, right?" Sarik questioned Sarah. "Around my age, some ex-military, MALE."

"I'm certain you can be creative," Sarah encouraged.

Sarik sighed, as he had seemingly dozens of times earlier today.

"You REALLY love to push stuff on people like this, don't you?" he asked rhetorically as he ran his hand down his face, massaging his forehead.

"Only when its for their own good," Sarah replied.

"And what qualifies you to decide that?" Sarik inquired.

"A PHD in psychology helps," Sarah said.

Sarik began shaking his head, but quickly stopped when he realized that Stella was staring at him, her face, though unadorned with smile or frown, relaxed, as if she were relieved that he'd been relatively cooperative up to this point. The young man realized that they'd been ignoring her this entire time. Stella was just so quiet, it was easy to forget that she was there. He would have to watch himself in the future.

"Fine," Sarik complied grudgingly. "Could you help Stella pack while I make the arrangements?"

"Of course," Sarah agreed as she held her hand out to Stella.

"Let's go get you packed," she suggested to the girl.

Sarik turned about and began leaving when a thought popped into his mind.

"And Sarah?" Sarik said as he stopped and turned his head.

"Yes?" she answered after she pulled Stella to her feet.

"Find Stella a decent flight suit, would you?" the young man requested. "Fluorescent orange doesn't compliment anyone."

* * *

Sarik slid the last of his things into the Windslider's cargo bay, which weren't much to begin with. A duffel bag with a few days worth of amenities, a small case with some paperwork that he needed to get done, and a case concealing a couple of his long-arms. Most likely, he wouldn't have the luxury of accessing these weapons, so he would have to rely on his knife, his side-arm, and his own two hands if he found himself in a hand-to-hand combat scenario between here and the carrier. Though he highly doubted that anything like that would happen at all during this trip.

As Sarik moved off towards a nearby terminal to check over the fighter's systems once more, he spotted Stella and Sarah making their way across the hangar, which at the moment housed eight Skygraspers, each equipped with a Striker pack of one configuration or the other. This squadron was currently SSI headquarter's alert force. If anything flew within a certain range of the base, these eight planes would be in the air within three minutes, ready to shoot down the intruder if it seemed even remotely suspicious.

As Sarik shut down the maintenance programs and began booting up the fighter's operational systems, Stella took her place beside him, glancing around his shoulder in order to see what he was doing. Sarik looked back at her, pleased with what he saw. Sarah had managed to find her more than a decent flight suit. It was similar to his own in design, which was derived from the Earth Alliance's flight suits. The decoration was much the same, but her crimson was a dark violet color, and it dominated as much of the suit as the black did on his, only being complimented by the dark base. Now that Sarik thought of it, he had seen Amelia wearing a flight suit just like this one when she was piloting the Windslider nearly three years ago. It would explain the fit, and the short notice in which Sarah had located it. He hoped to god that Sarah hadn't swiped it from the girl, as angry as she was with him and Stella at the moment.

"Well, everything looks good," Sarik remarked as he deactivated the terminal and moved back a few centimeters from Stella. "Ready?"

Stella simply nodded her head once, and Sarik caught Sarah getting in a smirk.

"What?" Sarik questioned in an insulted fashion.

Sarah walked over to him, carrying a suit case that he assumed held Stella's belongings.

"Be nice to her," Sarah told him quietly as she shoved the container into Sarik's arms.

"Will do," he complied quickly and without remark.

Sarah's expression turned to that of curiosity almost at the instant he said this.

"What?" Sarik questioned again, this time in a somewhat amused tone.

"You've changed," his mentor told him.

"Aren't we always changing?" Sarik asked.

"Perhaps," Sarah agreed shallowly, then looked off at Stella. "You two have a good time."

For some reason, Sarik began blushing almost instantly upon hearing those words. He quickly ducked away, going about placing Stella's things into the cargo bay. A minute later, he had the small compartment sealed. After walking up and down both sides of his craft, to ensure that there was nothing out of place, Sarik returned to where he had left Stella at the terminal.

"I think it's as good as its going to get," Sarik informed Stella, who was now alone. "Shall we?"

The girl nodded, then walked over towards the Windslider. Sarik grabbed up his helmet, which had been resting next to the terminal, and followed.

"I'll be taking the seat in the front," Sarik informed Stella. "If you don't mind, that is."

Stella glanced at Sarik as she placed her helmet on her head, reminding him of the one time that he might have accidentally implied she was stupid. After sealing the component to her suit, Stella climbed up the ladder to the maintenance platform that set parallel to the cockpit.

Sarik shook his head at himself as he sealed on his own helmet and followed suit. Soon after, he was buckled snuggly into the pilot's chair.

"Radio check," Sarik said after he activated the fighter's comm unit, keying in the radios built into his and Stella's helmets.

"Your equipment appears to be functioning perfectly," Stella informed in a matter-of-fact tone that made caused her to sound years older. "The transmission is optimal."

Sarik glanced over his shoulder, his helmet hiding his amazement. That was probably the most he had ever heard the girl say at once as of recent. And the way she said it; Stella sounded like a seasoned soldier, her voice calm, emotionless, and unwavering. Just another reminder of what she truly was, and what she could do.

Sarik quickly glanced around the hangar, ensuring that no one was nearby. The maintenance platform had retracted automatically, now providing the Windslider with a wide berth of over thirty meters from all of the equipment that littered the area. When Sarik was positive he had enough room to safely power the Windslider, he went about the pre-takeoff preparations.

"Contact!" Sarik yelled out of protocol, ending the sequence by igniting the engines. A loud roaring dominated his hearing for a moment, the sound quickly dying as the fighter's engines revved down from the initial startup.

Sarik glanced over the craft's instruments, still amazed at how quickly they stabilized. Even up until two or three decades ago, a jet propelled craft would require at least a couple minutes before it could safely take off. To offset this, the military relied on ancient technology that remotely started their craft in order to scramble them with the least amount of time lost. Inevitably, this would lead to a variety of undesirable circumstances, such as carelessly placed equipment and men being suddenly sucked into the turbines. Now, technology had come so far that even a dated craft such as the F-7 Spearhead could be in the air within twenty seconds of the pilot's arrival.

"This is aircraft OCSSI-5960," Sarik reported after he keyed into the local air control. "We are currently awaiting confirmation for takeoff. Requesting a weather forecast and launch instructions."

The hangar doors slowly slid open, providing Sarik with a venue of escape. He carefully put power into the Windslider's engines, causing the fighter to move forward at about human walking pace.

"This is Occaeco air control to civilian aircraft," replied a man's level voice. "The current forecast is sunny with little or no cloud coverage, temperature of twenty-seven degrees Celsius, and steady winds blowing southeast at approximately fourteen kilometers per hour. Launch strip three is recommended. There are no aircraft in the immediate vicinity, so you may take off when ready. We will update you if there are any changes."

Sarik taxied the Windslider up the runway, eventually moving its nose in line with the strip that he had been assigned. Sarik glanced over the area, realizing that just beyond the runway was nothing but ocean. If something went wrong, there would be little that could save them. Of course, if he was truly concerned, he could simply perform a vertical take-off, a feature common in most fighter craft of the time. But not only did that waste precious energy, but it also wasn't nearly as fun.

"This is OCSSI-5960," Sarik said. "We are ready for take-off."

"Roger that," the controller replied. "Conditions remain approximate to before."

"Affirmative," Sarik complied. "Stand by."

Sarik twisted his head back, barely able to see Stella, whose seat rose just above his, similar to the ancient two-seater helicopters used in the pre-Cosmic eras, though the feature was not quite as exaggerated.

"Do you mind if we fly around for a little while?" Sarik asked her after keying the private comm. "I don't get to fly for fun very often."

"Sure," Stella replied, her voice seeming to have returned to the quiet norm.

"Thank you," Sarik told her as he returned his attention to Windslider's instruments.

"This is aircraft OCSSI-5960, taking off!" Sarik reported as he pushed the fighter's power to maximum. While he normally wouldn't do this, he was in a trying mood today. He had a couple of free hours to kill, and he was going to enjoy them to their fullest.

Sarik was forced back into the pilot's chair as the engines roared to life, instantly jerking the fighter forward. As they neared the end of the runway, Sarik lifted the aircraft's nose and simultaneously retracted the landing gear. The Windslider shot off of the runway and over the ocean, throwing up a distinct cloud of mist in its wake.

Sarik quickly pulled the fighter into a climb, moving up several thousand meters to where he could safely perform the less orthodox maneuvers in his book of tricks. After leveling out, Sarik reduced most of the power to the engines and rolled the fighter partially onto its side, providing him and Stella with an unrestricted view of the island of Occaeco, his home for the past two years. It wasn't the largest of places, less than 40 square kilometers in size, but it was also relatively unpopulated, with only a couple of towns on one side of the natural construct. The largest settlement was SSI headquarters, which was more akin to a military base in configuration, and rivaled some of the Atlantic Federation's largest fortresses in size. It had everything one could want in such an establishment: reinforced walls, anti-aircraft batteries, heavy weapon emplacements, concealed harbors and aircraft hangars, factories, and even its own power plants.

It was a not-so-well kept secret that most of the corporation's military power resided here. Currently, SSI had an overabundance of fighter craft due to the massive surplus left over from when all sides involved in the last war converted to using mobile suits as their primary combat units. Nearly two hundred Earth alliance F-7 spearheads and ZAFT Infestus fighters filled many of SSI's hangars, at least two-thirds of that number combat ready at any given time. SSI also had over 500 antiquated VTOL fighters and helicopters of Atlantic Federation and Orb Union origin, converted into remote-operated drones meant for use as pawns. Even with larger caliber weapons installed than what came standard, they were intended to be nothing more than a nuisance to the enemy, cannon-fodder meant to reduce casualties on the crews of the manned aircraft, due to their lack of individual versatility. But among the fighter craft, the real trump cards were the nineteen Skygraspers, or twenty, if one counted the Windslider among them.

But the most vital part of the defense part was not among the antiquated fighter wings, but the small mobile suit force for which they were meant to provide support. Sarik had nearly one hundred ex-military pilots at his disposal, a large minority of them deserters from South America whom had been forced into the service of the Earth Alliance during the last war. Unfortunately, SSI only had about sixty mobile weapons total available to it at any given time, a set fifteen protecting the corporation's orbital research and production facility, along with the assistance of a number of Moebius units and a pair of practically useless Drake-class escort ships, the pre-refit kind. But those numbers would soon be on a rise, as Sarik had ordered an increase in mobile suit production shortly after the destruction of the Freedom and the Archangel. Hopefully, there would be enough surplus after the company's private contracts were fulfilled to significantly bolster its mobile weapon force.

In addition to the numerous amounts aircraft and mobile weapons, SSI's ground defense force consisted of dozens of redesigned linear tanks, over one hundred mobile missile launchers, dozens of hardened heavy weapons fortifications along the beaches, and close to four hundred anti-aircraft emplacements, ranging from CIWS turrets to 150mm repeating cannons to rapid-fire missile batteries. Sarik had been serious about remaining independent from any of the world's powers, even if it cost him and SSI a literal fortune. He would love to see any nation be able to spare enough forces to blast their way into the main facility. But, of course, he could count on the Orb military to come running to his aid within hours, since the facility was within the nation's territorial borders, and since they were the ones licensing him to organize this private military. Though if the Orb homeland came under attack, it was their duty to protect Occaeco in the defense force's place, and even assist the Orb military in the defense of the main island, if the fight were to become bad enough.

Sarik snapped to as he realized that some of his instrument's readings were changing in a seeming erratic manner. But glancing over them once more, he realized that the readings were actually adjusting themselves to become more detailed, and in a very consistent, organized pattern. He quickly understood what was going on.

"Stella, could you please not mess with anything?" Sarik requested. He wasn't so much worried that she would unintentionally sabotage any of the instruments, but that she might accidentally switch control of the Windslider to the co-pilot's station. Though if she already had such an understanding of the equipment, she likely already knew how to do this. Sarik leveled out the fighter and began flipping several switches, to ensure that she would be unable to do so easily from now on.

Suddenly, several alarms went off inside of the cockpit, and three blips appeared on Sarik's radar. He hadn't been paying so much attention to that, as, to his knowledge, no one else was flying out here today. That was probably one of the reasons his father had the co-pilot station installed in the first place. When he was devoted to a particular mundane task, Sarik tended to become near-sighted. As a result, he was often caught by surprise when things changed from calm to hectic while he was performing the said task.

The Windslider's computer quickly identified the three craft as Spearheads, flying straight towards him. Most likely, they had come from the carrier. Some bored kids looking for something to do.

"This is SSI Combat Air Patrol One to civilian aircraft," Sarik heard over the radio. "Your configuration does not match that of any vehicles in our database. Identify yourself."

Sarik was about to do so when the Windslider shuddered so much that he actually had to put some effort into compensating the craft. An eye blink later, the formation of three F-7s were several hundred meters ahead of him, and continuing to distance themselves from the Windslider at a rapid pace. This behavior was something that Sarik wouldn't tolerate, not in his military, and not towards him.

"You want to get them back?" Sarik asked Stella.

"Yes," Stella replied in her military, adult voice. She was about as thrilled about their little stunt as he was. The stunt was enough to cause even a veteran pilot to flinch reflexively.

Sarik smirked as he flooded power into the engines, causing the Windslider to accelerate quickly. The fighter craft soon broke fifteen hundred kilometers per hour, and continued to gain airspeed. Seconds later, he was only a few hundred meters away from the F-7 formation, who were flying in a standard V configuration. Sarik pulled up on flight stick, causing the Windslider to move into an almost completely vertical climb. After he was satisfied with the height, Sarik strained himself to force the fighter's nose down while simultaneously putting the craft into a spin.

Sarik let out a yell of simultaneous exhilaration and fear while the fighter dove almost straight downwards in front of lead fighter, probably only five or so meters away when he passed it. As he expected, the Spearheads broke formation and dove after him, trying to get on his tail. Sarik leveled out the fighter and pulled to the right, causing the Windslider to dart away with its superior mobility. One of the F-7s got on his tail and began locking onto the craft, but was quickly thwarted as Sarik easily broke away from the engagement and pulled up on the stick, performing a three-sixty. Sarik allowed the maneuver to turn into a dive in order to stay on the Spearhead's tail, as the pilot was now speeding down and to the left of where he had been flying.

Sarik activated his own target acquisition program and locked onto the F-7, though he had no intention of using any of the Windslider's weapons, the couple that were loaded. He just wanted to have a little fun. He doubted that F-7 pilots planned to use their armaments, either, but one never knew.

Sarik pulled out of the dive and hit his brakes as another of the F-7s pulled up behind him, causing his cockpit alarms to go berserk. This was going to be fun, alright.

Time froze for Sarik as he perceived a faint sound, like joyous laughter. Stella was really enjoying herself? He smiled at the prospect, happy that she was happy. But Sarik quickly quelled the thought. He was probably just hearing things as a result of the blood rushing rapidly in and out of his head.

* *

"Will you be able to make the modifications aboard the carrier?" Sarik asked the mechanic chief in front of him. "I can understand if you're unable to."

"It won't be a problem, sir," the large man before him assured. "We should be able to use the same systems as the ones for the Skygraspers."

"Then I leave it in your hands," Sarik informed. "Just make sure that its ready for the exercises in the morning."

"Will do," the mechanic complied.

As the man strolled off to begin his preparations, Sarik glanced up at the Windslider one last time. It was sad to think that this craft was nearly as obsolete as the F-7s and the Infestus fighters. If today's experiences today were worth anything, air combat was far more interesting when the world relied on these elegant machines rather than the god-like mobile suits. It wasn't to say there wasn't a form of exhilaration in flying those, either, but it wasn't nearly as adrenaline-pumping as trading missile and machine gun fire at supersonic speeds.

Sarik looked up as he heard the sound of incoming jets, spotting three F-7 fighters preparing to land. One of them was diving in at normal speed, lining up with the deck, while the other two were moving slowly towards the many designated landings areas on the back end of the massive Tarawa-class carrier, using the VTOL thrusters located underneath the craft in order to hover.

As the lead fighter caught the carrier's cable and accelerated, Sarik realized that Stella was nowhere in sight. He walked around the Windslider to find her sitting near the carrier's edge, staring off at the ocean. Sarik was half tempted to yank her back from the side, as a single strong gust could lift her the remaining meter or so and send her careening off the edge, nearly a thirty meter drop. He quickly thought against it. If there were to be any gusts, they would most likely blow her TOWARDS the carrier, as the Windslider currently served as a breaker for any wind coming in from behind them.

Sarik leaned against the side of his fighter, taking advantage of the break to stare off not at the ocean, but at the vessels that floated on its surface. Several hundred meters off of the the port side of the carrier, where Sarik stood, was a Kuraokami-class destroyer that had been raised from the wreckage that was left behind from the Earth Alliance's invasion of Orb during the last war. On the starboard side, Sarik knew there would be a ship of similar class, most likely another salvage from that horrid battle.

Though he didn't show it, Sarik's mood had quickly turned solemn. Was that all he was: a scavenger, a parasite? Leeching off the corpses of the dead in order to better establish his power? Most of the fleet, totaling a number of 15 ships, was currently hidden inside of the harbors back at base, two-thirds of them the corpses of vessels that had been reanimated during the period of Orb's reconstruction. This carrier was the Frankenstein of the group, actually composed of parts salvaged from multiple Earth Alliance carriers sunk by Orb and its allies.

"You still think too much, I see," Sarik heard an accented voice remark from behind him.

The nineteen-year-old turned his head to spot the brown-haired, blue-eyed Eli Garza, one of SSI's best pilots, and at one point, Sarik's personal combat flight instructor. He assumed that Eli had been the pilot of the lead fighter, based on the man's apparel and the timely fashion in which he came to great Sarik. Not to mention the expressed skill of the F-7 formation's leader. Though Eli was also SSI's best Murasame pilot, he had the most experience and talent in F-7s, so much that few living men could outperform him, assuming they were flying the same or similar craft.

"Better too much than too little," Sarik replied. "If everyone thought as much as I do, there wouldn't be many wars."

"An arrogant remark," Eli observed.

"Perhaps," Sarik agreed, pushing off of the fighter and standing tall before his teacher. "You still fly well."

"You assumed I wouldn't?" the South American pilot questioned.

"It's been over two years since the end of the last war," Sarik said. "And you deserted a few months before it actually ended. We all loose touch over time."

"I haven't been idle," Garza reminded Sarik. "I don't know where you got that from."

"You haven't had to challenge yourself much while in my service," Sarik observed. "If you're not constantly improving yourself, you slowly regress."

"A valid theory," Eli agreed. "I see you found yourself a girlfriend."

"She's not," Sarik corrected. "Just a friend."

"So you're still a virgin?" Garza questioned obnoxiously.

Sarik glared at the man, who was only about seven years his senior. Though the South American was an even better pilot than he, Eli had a number of vices, including a very good understanding with members of the opposite sex. It always seemed that he was in the company of one woman or the other, though the relationships could last anywhere from an hour to a month. Sarik tolerated this only because Eli did a well enough job of not being obviously flirtatious while on duty, and so far hadn't used his position to take advantage of his underlings. Though that still didn't stop him from just flat out taking advantage of them. Sarik had actually a couple promising females quit in the past year under while they were Garza's command, though it was only personal speculation that he had been in any sort of relationship with either of them. His outward immaturity also caused problems.

"I would appreciate it if you would not bring up my love life," Sarik informed the man.

"What love life?" Garza taunted.

"The one that involves a South American man, a coil of rope, and a set of lead weights," Sarik threatened dryly.

"You know you won't do that," Eli told Sarik.

"Perhaps not," Sarik said. "But could you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Eli agreed.

"Get the word going around that the blond girl is mine, and that the first man that even so much as LOOKS at her funny gets to swim back to shore," Sarik informed him.

"You're serious?" Eli questioned in an amused tone.

Sarik's unwavering stare was an answer all in itself.

"Ya, I'll do that for you," Eli told him as he turned to leave. "But she really is a keeper. You should take advantage of this while you can. It sucks to be alone."

Sarik popped the cover on his pistol holster, Eli soon strolling off briskly after catching the drift.

* * *

Sarik watched as the twenty year old man hit the water head first, a life preserver landing flat on the surface near the foaming bubbles that resulted from his impact.

Sarik had been nice. He'd first ensured that the carrier's motors were off. Then, he had made arrangements for one of the destroyers to send out a rescue boat, at least once the young pilot had covered a couple miles. Sarik had then lured him down the lower decks, only a couple dozen meters above the ocean surface, and ensured that the two of them were in private before knocking the man off balance, causing him to fall head over toe over the railing. Apparently, the pilot hadn't thought Sarik's threats were serious, because the grimace of honest surprise on his face as he flipped over the barrier was priceless.

Sarik shook his head as he watched the young man surface. No one seemed to have a respect for anyone, not at the high school or college ages. The only respect that he had from most of his pilots was the kind that was bought with money, the kind easily and quickly lost. And since the only respect Stella would be able to find was projected through him, that could be a problem, as she was a young and fairly attractive girl. And if what Walters had said was true, then most of these guys probably thought that they actually had a chance with her.

"I better not find you on my carrier anytime soon!" Sarik warned the pilot below him as the young man grasped the life preserver. Obviously, he now believed in Sarik's threats, because he immediately began paddling off towards Occaeco, the island barely visible in the moonlight.

* * *

Sarik strolled down the metal stairway and back into the galley, where dozens of the carrier's crew were currently eating and socializing. The young man forced himself into a poorly disguised concentration, soon making his way to one of the large tables at which Stella, Eli, and seemingly half of the men occupying the room were sitting. Sarik quickly berated himself for not having been a little more involved in Stella's choice of wear. Like the rest of her wardrobe, everything she had brought along with her were were dresses. Some of the less revealing ones, he had to admit, but dresses nonetheless, and more specifically, the kind a woman generally wore if she was planning on spending the day outside. And with Stella's figure, a barely noticeable military physique complimented by a distinctly feminine frame, that caused problems, especially considering that she was stuck on a carrier only two hundred meters in length with a crew of nearly one thousand members cramped aboard, eighty percent of them men under the age of twenty-five.

Sarik took his place to the right of Stella, where he had left his meal before having to deal with that troublemaker. While she seemed mostly indifferent to the dozens of stares directed at her, Sarik's jealousy and protectiveness more than made up for both of them. As he finished his meal, he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Let's go, Stella," Sarik told her as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up from her seat.

Sarik guided Stella in front of him, most of the galley's occupants making no attempt to give them any semblance of space. Sarik released Stella and planted his elbow into the jaw of one of the pilots, a young man no older than nineteen, as his extended arm had come alarmingly close to Stella's rear end. A couple of light snickers from one of the tables confirmed the pervert's intentions.

As the man stumbled back, it seemed as if every occupant in the room had begun to involuntarily lean away from Sarik and Stella. The girl just stood there, staring at Sarik in a confused and slightly concerned manner. He didn't care. This needed to be dealt with.

"Hear me now, and hear me good," Sarik stated in a raised, agitated voice. "We will be boarding in the officer's section. Anyone I find who doesn't belong up there will be shot on sight, no warnings."

Sarik slowly glanced over the room from wall to wall, then turned back around, grabbing Stella's arm and taking his place by her side. He put his cold, hard composure on as he began perceiving stupid, childish remarks like, "He's finally gone over," and, "Little psycho, Mr. President?".

As they arrived at the top of the stairwell leading to the officer's level, Sarik finally relaxed. If this kept up, he'd have ulcers before he was twenty. And that would be a BIG problem. Extendeds didn't have medical complications as often as Naturals, but when they did, it seemed that it hit them ten times as hard as their predecessors. A little ulcer could kill him, even if it were treated, as an Extended's body was a lot harder to repair than a Natural's or Coordinator's. That's one of the reasons his parents had made the optimization of medical regeneratives a top priority, as there were a few Extended casualties early on from what normally would have been just a few weeks of taking it easy for a Natural.

"I'm sorry," Sarik told Stella as they neared her room, thankfully located near the edge of the bulkhead at an angular turn in the corridor.

"Why?" she asked quietly, looking over at him. From her facial expressions, Sarik knew she was asking, "Why did you do that?", not "Why are you sorry?"

"What those men were doing was...wrong," Sarik informed her. Better to keep it simple and blunt, rather than making it seem subjective. "You shouldn't let people treat or touch you like that."

"Like what?" Stella questioned innocently.

Sarik sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. She truly had been raised in a very isolated environment.

"I'll explain it all to you another time," Sarik assured her as he began unbuckling his utility belt, hidden underneath his shirt. "But take this. If anyone but me comes into your room before morning, shoot them."

Sarik handed her the belt, unadorned but for a large holster that housed his forty-five. If anyone managed to make it past him tonight, and actually have enough bad intentions to go into her room, they would deserve to be killed. To ensure that Stella was adequately defended, Sarik had live, fragmenting full metal jacketed rounds loaded into the weapon, not the normal stun rounds that he lugged around SSI headquarters.

Though, most likely, anyone who tried sneaking up here would just be going through with some immature bet or dare, easily scared off. Most days, Sarik would find his male compatriots' actions to be amusing, but not this one. Their stupidity was starting to become a royal pain in the ass.

Stella stared at the holster for a moment, then looked back up at Sarik. Though she wasn't smiling, her slightly gaping expression projected some of the joy she seemed to be feeling from actually having received something from someone here. She then stared back down at the weapon, and a look that would accompany her professional tone well formed over her face.

"Yes, sir," Stella complied, her adult-like voice unnerving Sarik slightly.

Sarik looked down at her in concern, but quickly let it go. He wasn't so much unlike her even a couple years ago. In fact, in many ways, he still was like that. It was the only way he seemed to be able to protect himself.

Sarik put an arm around one of Stella's shoulders and pulled her towards him. He held her for a second before saying, "Good night."

Before she could respond, Sarik quickly moved away from Stella and walked over to her quarter's door, causing it to slide open. Sarik stood there, still and erect, until Stella began walking in. The girl kept eye contact with him until the last possible moment.

"Night," Stella whispered just before disappearing into her room, the door sliding closed behind her.

Sarik nodded once, though he knew the action was futile, as she couldn't see him.

As he walked into his room, located immediately next to Stella's, Sarik lightly planted his head on the wall next to the door and held it there. He had now intentionally embraced both of the women he loved. No wonder Amelia was getting the wrong idea. He just didn't think of either of them like that. Friends, siblings, that was what he kept telling himself.

As Sarik popped his gun case open, he questioned that. DID he just think of them like that? That was what he had told himself all of these years, but based on his actions and moods over the last couple weeks, was that the case? According to Sarah, he was acting different. Had he been? He didn't think so, but things did seem better whenever Stella was around. But that could just be the satisfaction of seeing her happy, couldn't it? It didn't mean that he felt for her as a lover or anything.

Sarik quelled his thoughts for the millionth time that day and concentrated on twisting the silencer onto the barrel on shotgun, effectively doubling its length. He remembered that someone had once made the comment to him that it was essentially pointless to silence a shotgun. Obviously, that individual hadn't been in his unique life circumstances.

Sarik returned to the hallway, which was quite dark now, carrying the shotgun and loading a shell into it. He decided against equipping it with live ammunition this time, instead using a refined version of rock salt shot. This particular round was still loaded with sodium-based crystals, though the compound was far more dense than traditional sodium chloride. But what made them most effective was their function. The near-microscopic crystals were literally shaped like tiny darts, and they would penetrate the skin at short ranges, many of them eventually settling into the actual bloodstream of the victim. During the ten or so seconds that it took them to dissolve under the skin, the flechettes would cause an agonizing amount of pain to the target. If the person shot didn't pass out, he certainly wouldn't be coming back for more.

Sarik set his weapon in the corner of the corridor, the barrel pointed up. He knew that this was a poor way to store the weapon, but he would only be gone for a few seconds. No one would have the time to find it here in the dark, and it wasn't likely to get up and act stupid on its own.

Sarik continued up the short corridor until he located the officer's lounge. As he walked in, a few men several years Sarik's senior, all of them sitting around a low-set table on which set several maps and initially unidentifiable devices set, glared up at him, as if he had barged in on something important.

"Carry on," Sarik said as he located the object he was searching for.

"As I was saying..." the man in charge started, still staring at Sarik. He stopped in mid-sentence, however, as Sarik began dragging a small lounging chair out of the room, the legs creating a low-pitch scratching sound that was most annoying. The room's occupants didn't start back up until Sarik had completely left the range of their curious glances.

The determined young man forced the chair into the corner of the corridor, then picked up his shotgun and braced it on the furniture's arms. After going over a mental checklist to ensure that he was completely situated, Sarik closed his eyes and tried to relax, as he had a long night ahead of him.

* * *

Sarik awoke as he felt something poking him in the arm in a most persistent and annoying manner. He opened his eyes and immediately spotted Amelia, clothed in a aquamarine blue flight suit.

"Been target shooting?" she questioned in an amused tone as she returned to standing erect over him.

Sarik glanced at his watch, then surveyed the floor on which he was currently sprawled. At least ten shotgun shells littered the metal deck.

"Something like that," he replied. The truth was, all but two of the night's various delinquents had gone running with their tails between their legs from the sound of the shotgun being pumped. Only two had been either brave or stupid enough to continue their advance after his initial warning. In a sense, those boys didn't even have tails left. "You're here a bit early, don't you think? It's five in the morning."

"I figured I should take the time to survey my competition," Amelia told Sarik. "Which currently consists of twenty Spearheads, twelve Infestus fighters, three Skygraspers, and your Windslider."

"Anyone could have discovered that by looking at the carrier's vehicle roster," Sarik stated as he moved into a crouch. "Tell me who among the pilots would be a threat to you."

"No one, right now," Amelia remarked in intentional haughtiness as she smirked. "But I would have to say, were I piloting a lesser mobile suit, Commander Garza."

"Why, you insult me, Amelia," Sarik teased. "Me? Not dangerous?"

"You won't land a shot on me," Amelia remarked.

"We'll see," Sarik challenged in a light mood. "I assume this means that you've forgiven me?"

Instantly, Amelia's entire composure changed, going from cheery and slightly excited to dark and depressed.

"I meant what I said," she informed Sarik. "Don't expect anything extra out of me for a while. But I already agreed to help you. It's my obligation to follow through with that."

"Look, I'm sorr..." Sarik started as he began to stand, extending a hand out to Amelia, but was pushed back down by her, causing him to fall into the chair.

"Keep your distance," she suggested. "We need to let time deal with this."

Sarik looked up at Amelia with a pleading, hurt gleam in his eyes, but quickly quelled it when he realized that he was doing it. She was right, and finally going about this semi-intelligently. Time would have to heal this. Even though she knew intellectually what was truly going on between him and Stella, her emotions still told her different. She could try to rationalize all she wanted, but in the end, she would always break. The human mind tended to work like that, especially in teenagers.

"Very well," Sarik agreed as he stood, this time grasping his weapon. "But can we still talk like friends?"

"Fine," Amelia agreed.

Sarik grabbed the shotgun that was braced against the wall, then scooped the used and unused shotgun shells. Wouldn't do him any good to leave them lying around. He would look like a psycho even more than he already did.

"So, is the GuIAZ all that it's supposed to be?" Sarik questioned as he pumped the shotgun, ensuring it was empty, and began unscrewing the silencer..

"That, and a little more," Amelia informed him. "Which might be a problem, considering that it only uses a conventional power supply."

"Unfortunately, the GuIAZ Experimental Firearms Type was designed to merely be a testbed for the Freedom and Justice's weaponry," Sarik stated as the door to his quarters slid open, allowing him to walk inside. "We've been attempting to convert the Mod 0 to run on a nuclear reactor and neutron jammer canceler package, but in doing so, we've run into a number of complications that have so far prevented us from doing so. Until we find a way around these obstacles, you'll just have to use a little discretion."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with YOUR machines," Amelia remarked.

"MY machines were built from scratch," Sarik reminded the girl as he placed his shotgun and silencer back inside of their case and sealed it shut. "We were able to easily adapt the designs as we constructed them. Trying to modify an already existing frame is an entirely different story."

"So why can't I pilot one of those machines?" Amelia questioned. "I would be more effective in them."

"No, you wouldn't," Sarik informed her. "Their designs don't fit into your fighting style. No matter what kind of modifications you did to them, you wouldn't be comfortable flying them. It would be like shoving a knife in a sniper's hands and asking him to fight a battle just like that."

"I am quite handy with a knife," Amelia reminded Sarik.

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Sarik speculated.

Amelia remained silent for a moment, staring at Sarik with crossed arms as he placed his shotgun and its components back into his gun case.

"Yes, I do," she admitted. "I still wouldn't mind an unlimited power supply."

"If you move fast enough, you won't need one," Sarik told her as he sealed the case. "The weapons on the Firearms Type would allow you to go head to head with mobile suits comparable to the Freedom and Justice. For a short period, anyway."

"I'll leave that to you," Amelia remarked. "You're the one who likes fighting up close."

"How about I hold them while you shoot them?" Sarik suggested as he walked towards the exit, which Amelia was currently blocking.

"Sounds like a plan," Amelia replied sarcastically as she moved out of his way. Doing something like that would most likely result in the destruction of both mobile suits, due to the penetrating and flat out destructive nature of particle beam, linear, and impulse-based weaponry.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" Sarik almost sighed from the hallway, abruptly changing the subject. "I won't be able to get back to sleep, and almost no one is up right now."

"That would be nice," Amelia told him.

"Then lets..."Sarik started, but was interrupted by the sound of a sliding door. Stella's.

Stella poked her head out of her quarters, spotting Sarik and Amelia. As if she permeated the most foul of stenches, Amelia glared at the other girl before she walked off, barging quite noticeably down the stairs to the carrier's lower decks in a most immature fashion.

Sarik sighed as he looked over at Stella, who appeared to be extremely confused. Her innocent expression implied that she still didn't fully understand what was going on. Nor would she, unless Amelia came out and confronted her in a rational manner.

"Everything's fine," Sarik told Stella. "Go back to bed."

But instead of retreating back into her quarters, Stella exited them and walked towards Sarik, carrying his belt and holster. She wasn't in one of the several night gowns that Sarah had packed for her, but one of her dresses. Apparently, Stella was up for good.

"Thank you," Sarik sighed unenthusiastically as he took back his valued possession and returned it to its appropriate place around his waist.

Stella clasped her hands behind her back like before, but this time, rather than an expression of curiosity, indifference, it was one of satisfaction, of happiness. She had appreciated Sarik's protectiveness of her, but now that she no longer needed the weapon, Stella was even happier to be able to give it back. Or so Sarik figured. With an Extended, one could never be completely sure from their body language alone. Too much went through their minds at any given second.

"So, would you like to eat breakfast with me?" Sarik asked Stella enthusiastically, already knowing the answer.

Stella simply smiled and took her place at Sarik's right hand side, grasping his arm with both of hers.

* * *

Sarik looked over the Windslider one last time. Everything was perfect, as far as he could tell. The Launcher Striker's installation had gone without a hitch, and it seemed as if all of the parts melded perfectly with the fighter's fuselage, as Sarik had intended when he modified it to accept such parts. On the Windslider, the order of the Striker's configuration was a bit different than when installed on the Skygrasper. Though the Agni impulse cannon remained in a forward position, the weapon lay along the upper half of the fuselage, protruding out over the cockpit. The weapon pod had actually been modified from the original versions used on the Strike and the Dagger series based off of it, all of its parts now modular and separable. The wings built onto it served little purpose when mounted on a fighter, thus those had been removed. The weapons, a 120mm anti-ship Vulcan cannon and a pair of 350mm gun launchers, were separated each into their own individual modules, the Vulcan gun mounted underneath the Windslider's nose, while the projectile cannons were mounted underneath the wings, at the junction where the airfoils were connected to the fuselage. Together with the built in weaponry, the Striker pack literally made the Windslider into a flying battleship, a craft as heavily armed as some of the water-based crafts.

Luckily, today the only shots that would be fired were dummy machine gun rounds, paint missiles, and beam weaponry tuned down so low that they couldn't singe the hair off of a person's head. Of course, no one would be trying that particular stunt this fine day to test out the validity of the relatively common remark.

Sarik glanced around towards the mobile suit portion of the hangar, trying to locate Amelia. Though he could clearly see the GuIAZ from here, he had yet to spot the blond-haired girl since their encounter this morning. He had a funny feeling that she was intentionally avoiding him.

Something banged behind Sarik, and he spun around, prepared to take on anything or anyone. It turned out to just be Stella, having bumped into some lazy mechanic's tool box.

"So you're coming?" Sarik questioned. He had discussed it earlier with her, and the seriousness of the situation. Considering her ex-military background, he figured that she understood everything about this, at least.

"Yes," Stella told him, her voice still relaxed, but a confidence behind it that was stronger than normal.

"Then would you like to fly?" Sarik offered. Since he would be acting as one of the flight leaders and the fighter wing's strategist, it would be easier for him to operate as the co-pilot, anyway.

Stella stared at him, though surprised or amused, he couldn't tell. The expression was soon replaced by one of gratefulness as Stella nodded her head.

"Well, hurry up and get on board, then," Sarik told her. "I'm right behind you."

As Stella began climbing the ladder to the maintenance platform, Sarik walked off towards the mobile suit section of the hangar. They were all due to take off soon, so Amelia couldn't avoid him for long. He wasn't going to prod anymore about Stella, but he needed to know that his friend wasn't going to try to shoot them down, or pull some other stupid stunt. She had done spontaneous things like that before, though, luckily, never directed towards him. But his experience in life told him that things like that could change very quickly.

As Sarik approached the GuIAZ's dock and maintenance area, he still couldn't spot his friend. There were a number of mechanics milling about, though only a couple of them seemed to have any interest in the GuIAZ. They were probably more concerned with the Jet Daggers and GINNs that dominated this portion of the carrier's internal hangar.

After spending nearly two minutes searching for Amelia, Sarik began turning about to return to the Windslider. It was then that a he caught a glimpse of blue moving towards the GuIAZ. Sarik rushed after it, the glimpse soon revealing itself to be Amelia.

"Amelia!" Sarik yelled, but she obviously couldn't hear him over all of the racket, as she didn't so much as twitch at the sound of her name. "Amelia!"

The girl continued on to the GuIAZ, stepping into the maintenance elevator and activating it, the device beginning its ascent towards the mobile suit's cockpit.

"AMELIA!" Sarik bellowed as he grew closer, finally catching her attention.

"What the hell do you want?" Amelia yelled back as she looked down at him.

"Stella is piloting," Sarik informed her, emphasizing each word. "Please go easy on her."

Amelia's expression went from sour to confident, a most mischievous smirk dominating her face.

"Kiss me, and I'll think about it," she replied jokingly.

"Fat chance!" Sarik told her in an equally playful fashion.

"Then I wish you two the best of luck," Amelia said before walking into her machine, her posture that of amusement, not anger. From the way she was acting, she'd calmed down at least a little.

Sarik stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space that Amelia had been occupying. Best of luck? Was she referring to the two of them as pilots or as partners? Sarik quelled the notion. Of course she meant pilots. He was just getting overly sensitive.

After a few more seconds of staring, Sarik began the process of returning to the Windslider, which, to his surprise, was already powered up. Stella really was a fast learner. He just hoped he wouldn't have to go in and reconstruct the OS after today. While the task was not particularly daunting for him, it was tedious and time consuming.

Sarik climbed aboard the fighter, taking his place in the high-set co-pilot's chair, providing him with a good view of his surroundings while not impeding Stella's field of vision. Sarik buckled in and went about starting up a number of systems that worked most effective under the co-pilot's control, such as radar operation and the new TacStar system. In addition, he could also assist with firing the weapons and target acquisition, lightening the pilot's burden.

"How's everything on your end?" Sarik asked as he activated his and Stella's suit's communication devices.

"All systems are operating within acceptable parameters," Stella informed him almost in an almost computer-like tone. "We are ready for launch."

Sarik shook his head once more, mostly at himself. Every time she changed like that, he was surprised, and maybe a little concerned. But there was no harm about being able to go from childish to determined and serious when going into a combat situation. It was a trait most soldiers didn't develop until someone close to them got blown to bits. Sarik could see examples of this among a number of his ex-military pilots, and their resulting disdain for the amateurs pilots who, most of the time, acted like kids, being between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five.

"This is Intercept One to Somestraba air control," Sarik reported to the carrier. "We are prepared to take off. Please relay launch instructions."

"This is control," replied a young man's voice over the radio. "Please board elevator five."

"Stella?" Sarik asked, to make sure she had received the instructions.

"Orders acknowledged," she informed Sarik, and slowly eased the Windslider's power up, causing the fighter to slowly roll forward. The craft soon joined a pair of Skygraspers and an Infestus fighter on the massive elevator, which began its slow ascension once as they were safely locked into it.

Sarik squinted as the lift carried them above ground, blinding him under the gaze of the sun in its greatest intensity. However, his suit's visor quickly compensated for it, the tint darkening until the environment around him became legible.

"Intercept One, please taxi to pad B-5 and await further orders," the air controller relayed to Sarik.

"Roger that," he complied. "You get that Stella?"

Sarik's only answer was the fighter lurching slightly forward, soon expertly parked behind one of the large lines of fighters setting idly on the carrier's main runway.

Sarik glanced off towards the carrier's edge as he felt a slight rumble shake the fighter, four Jet Daggers soon visible speeding through the air towards the empty horizon, having launched from the bays in the side of the Somestraba.

Another quake soon overtook the Windslider, this one much more powerful than the last, as three more mobile suits shot out from the Somestraba's side launch bays. One was Amelia's GuIAZ, the Experimental Firearms Type Mod 0, which contained features from both the Freedom and Justice Gundams used in the last war. One such a feature was the Justice's flight pack, which could be mounted on the GuIAZ's back or stood on like a platform. Each configuration had its own advantages, considering the amount of weaponry built into the module alone.

The two machines escorting Amelia's GuIAZ were GINNs, heavily modified versions of the Reconnaissance Type. They were a variant exclusively produced by SSI, dubbed the Tactical Aerial Attack, or TAA, Type. They moved even faster than their predecessors in regard to speed, and were more heavily armed, equipped with a weaker variant of the "Lapus" beam rifle used by the Freedom and Justice Gundams, a 175mm grenade launcher like that from a Dagger's beam rifle attached underneath for good measure. The mobile unit also sported a set of multi-missile launchers attached to its legs, each able of unleashing a single missile barrage capable of wiping out several unaware fighters at once. A pair of 120mm anti-ship Vulcan cannons could also be attached to the shoulders if their was a need for heavy weaponry, but because of the nature of the exercise, the GINNS were not equipped as such, primarily due to the fact that ZAFT neither used such weaponry, nor would they encumber their air combat mobile suits in such a fashion, as speed and maneuverability were often the deciding factors in an aerial dogfight.

"This is control to Intercept One," the air controller's voice reported a few minutes later. "The attack team has reported that they're in position. You are the first marked for take-off, so please do so with all haste."

"Roger that," Sarik complied. "We are moving onto the runway."

Without a word, Stella maneuvered the fighter off of the parking pad and onto the main launch strip, lining the Windslider up with the catapult at the end of the runway. Sarik kept a close eye on his instruments, especially on how much power Stella was putting into the engines. An instant later, the fighter lurched forward in acceleration.

"Sarik Ostheim, Windslider, engaging!" Sarik reported shortly before the fighter hit the catapult, launching it high into the air.

"Stella, follow the course I'm marking at five hundred knots," Sarik ordered as he began operating the TacStar. "Give everyone else a chance to catch up."

"Roger that," she complied, reducing the power to the Windslider's engines.

A few moments later, Sarik glanced around the Windslider, completely satisfied. In about a minute, the carrier crews and the pilots managed to get all of the fighter craft into the air and into proper formation. An impressive feat, for an entire wing.

"This is Intercept One," Sarik reported over the air group's channel. "I want the Infestus squadron to split in half and take up positions to the rear and sides of the attack group. You guys will move in and flank the enemy after the initial shots take place, since you lack missile weaponry."

Sarik began directing the force to the positions that he desired them to be in, but operating the TacStar was a lot of work to do by hand, one of the reasons he was trying to have a neuro-link operated version created for his use. As of now, he had somehow directed three of the fighters to take point, while the rest were flying at seemingly random locations throughout the air group. It would be impossible to for him to operate it while flying a mobile suit, much less correct any errors.

"Everyone in Spearheads, continue in your present formation," Sarik ordered after properly organizing the Infestus squadron. "When we're at maximum effective range, I want each of you to launch two missiles, followed by two more approximately two seconds later."

Sarik continued directing the air group via the TacStar despite the complaints he received over the radio from his less restrained pilots, both about his choice of tactics and his organizational skills. Everyone was here to learn. Not only did Sarik have to figure out what strategies and tactics worked and didn't work, but his pilots had to learn how to improvise when their commanders weren't necessarily up to par. And since most of these pilots had yet to experience a taste of actual combat, some good old fashioned dogfighting wasn't going to kill them, either. In this case, anyway.

"Skygraspers, I want you to take a high-altitude approach with the Windslider at point," Sarik relayed verbally as he input the formation and operational information into the TacStar. "We'll hang back a few hundred meters, then dive in with our heavy weapons as the first waves of missiles are let loose."

"So, what, your lives are worth more than my mens'?" Sarik heard one of the element leaders complain. He didn't reply. He would allow the nature of the strategy reveal itself on its own.

"Everyone just hold formation," Sarik ordered as Stella put the Windslider into a climb. Simultaneously, several blips appeared on his radar. Sarik stared at it for a moment, calculating the incoming objects' speeds. "We'll be in range in thirty."

Sarik pulled up the fighter's diagnostics and did a final check on the components, tweaking the power supplies and computer systems one last time. The Somestraba's battle computer was being transmitted every last systematic detail by each fighter and mobile suit in this combat simulation, including even the smallest bit of alteration or change into its calculations. Even the smallest part that Sarik could optimize counted.

"Get ready, contact in five," Sarik reported, readying the TacStar. Things were about to go to hell.

"Fire!" Sarik heard the Spearhead squadron's leader yell, soon followed by dozens of missile launch contacts on the Windslider's radar. Sarik was impressed when the Infestus Squadron's halves flanked around the Spearheads, charging at the mobile suits from the sides, just as they were being instructed by the TacStar.

Sarik involuntarily grabbed onto the sides of his seat as Stella let out a near-savage yell and pulled the fighter into a vertical climb, only to flip it end over end a second later. Her yell grew even louder as she pushed the engines and opened fire with the entirety of the Windslider's primary weaponry, filling the air with machine gun, autocannon, particle beam, and impulse fire, hitting at least two of the Jet Daggers in the process.

Over the last two years, Sarik had reconfigured the Windslider multiple times to fulfill the various and often changing needs that he had for it. As of the last modification, the integral weaponry consisted of the standard compliment of missiles, four 12.7mm machine guns in the nose of the fighter, a pair of 20mm cannons located a meter out in the wings, a 50mm high-explosive launcher immediately behind the cockpit, just underneath where the Agni was currently installed, and a pair of 67mm beam cannons located adjacent to where the gun launchers were currently mounted, on the top of the wings. Altogether, these weapons allowed the Windslider to take on just about any opponent it could encounter in Earth's atmosphere, even high-end mobile suits, under the integral armaments' combined fire. The only problem was that mobile suits had the ability to maneuver pretty much in any direction that they wanted, while a fighter could only go where its nose was pointed. In addition to this, the Windslider sacrificed ammunition capacity for firepower in the instances of the projectile weaponry. These were challenges that not only Sarik faced, but also many of his pilots, as a pair 20mm cannons or a quad battery of 12.7mm machine guns didn't cut it against even mass-production mobile suits.

Each Spearhead entire fleet was in the process of being reequipped with a pair of rapid-fire 30mm guns in place of their standard cannons, with expensive armor-piercing missiles complimenting those, while the Infestus wings were being refitted with a 50mm high-explosive launcher and a pair of 40mm armor-penetrating cannons in place of their entire compliment. SSI engineers had worked out a way to preserve most of the fighters' speed and maneuverability while carrying these weapons, but unfortunately, that meant severely cutting back on the ammunition capacity. The fighters would have only a few minutes of effective sortie time in an all-out battle before they would have to resupply.

Sarik released his death grip on his seat as Stella leveled the fighter and jerked to the side, avoiding a missile launched from one of the GINNs. The weapon, persistent due to its advanced programming, tracked them, following the Windslider through even the most complex of maneuvers, moves that were impossible for most biological pilots to follow.

"Launching decoys!" Sarik informed Stella as he activated the countermeasure systems, dropping several heat flares and a pair of chaff charges which soon exploded into clouds of microscopic shrapnel. The missile avoided the flares, obviously locked onto the fighter via radar, but flew into the chaff clouds and exploded on contact, its sensors tricking it into believing that it was near a solid object.

"Stella, pull up thirty degrees and fire!" Sarik ordered after glancing at his radar.

Stella did so silently, unleashing the Agni as she leveled out half a second later. A grin of amusement formed on Sarik's masked face as one of the Dagger's radar signature turned yellow, indicating that it had "disappeared". Stella had just got the first kill for their team.

He couldn't say the first kill today, though, as a pair of the Infestus fighters and three Spearheads were currently "shot down". Nearly a sixth of their force was already gone for slightly less than that on the mobile suit team's part.

"All flights, regroup!" Sarik ordered while he watched from the Windslider's canopy as a pair of Spearheads chasing one of the GINNs were shot down by a Jet Dagger that had moved in behind them. "Stella, three missiles!"

Even though Sarik hadn't been clear on whom to target, Stella launched three of the homing weapons at the Dagger, correctly guessing to which enemy that Sarik had been referring to. The machine's pilot accelerated suddenly, avoiding two of the missiles, but one of the explosives managed to get within a meter of the mobile suit's chassis, its proximity sensors detonating it. A large, fluorescent red splotch now stained the Dagger's side, and the machine began flying erratically, simulating battle damage.

An alarm suddenly went off in the cockpit, Stella reacting to it by pulling the fighter up, followed immediately by an erratic, spinning dive down towards the ocean, which was kilometers below. Sarik glanced down at the radar and then up at the sky, trying to figure out where the enemy was coming from, but was unable determine the source of the lock-on alert.

After a few seconds of sudden silence, Stella pulled back up and rejoined the fight, where the fighter squadrons had finished the damaged Dagger, in addition to shooting down one of the GINNs on their own. However, the casualty count was nearly fifty percent, one of the Skygraspers among them. Something had to be done quickly, as Sarik's attempts at using the TacStar were just flat-out not working.

Then, it came to him. Amelia hadn't been at her mobile suit until the last couple of minutes before launch. Maybe she was doing something before then? Like learning the frequency of the fighter's radios?

"All fighters, scramble frequencies!" Sarik ordered.

Just as he was performing the action for his own craft, the lock-on alarm went off in the Windslider's cockpit again. Sarik managed to locate the perpetrator this time, glancing upwards to try and identify him visually.

"Stella, watch out!" Sarik yelled as he caught a glimpse of gold hiding in the sun's blinding rays.

Stella put the Windslider into a series of erratic maneuvers just before Amelia opened up, almost every one of the GuIAZ's primary weapons firing at once and filling the air with fire from beam cannons, rail guns, and machine guns. The Windslider managed to avoid the attack without much hassle, though a formation of three Spearheads was shot down in the withering barrage. The Mod 0 sped past the Windslider's cockpit, spraying the area with dummy 76mm rounds from the CIWS cannons in its head.

"Stella, ignore her-" Sarik started, but was quickly shut up as Stella let out a yell and pushed the fighter's engines to the max, pursuing the gold-colored mobile suit.

Sarik was impressed that Stella was able to keep up with Amelia's GuIAZ through the heat of the fight, especially in just a fighter, as even the outdated Daggers had more maneuverability than the Windslider.

However, Amelia was no fool, and one of the best, albeit inexperienced, pilots Sarik knew. She knew Stella was after her, and maneuvered about, bringing the Mod 0's beam rifle to bear on the Windslider.

Sella let out a yell as she unleashed a quick burst from the fighter's weapons and dove down, barely avoiding the GuIAZ's shot and cutting a few meters underneath the mobile suit's feet. Sarik was about to go back to working the TacStar when Stella pulled sharply to the right, literally slamming him into the side of the cockpit. He realized now that this had gone from a standard dogfight to something a bit more personal.

"Stella, don't...!" Sarik started again, but quickly gave in, as she was completely ignoring him, caught up in the heat of the moment. Stella let loose another barrage, clipping Amelia with some machine gun fire, but not causing enough damage for the carrier's computer to register anything. The GuIAZ Experimental Firearms Type was equipped with Phase Shift armor, making most low-caliber projectile weapons useless against it.

Amelia, however, let loose with all of the GuIAZ's machine gun weaponry, including those in the flight pack, filling the air with hundreds of dummy bullets, several smaller caliber rounds disintegrating on the Windslider's fuselage. Sarik could hear as the fighter's engines began to power down, a result of the damage that the Somestraba's battle computer was simulating.

"You shot me?!" Stella exclaimed. Sarik glanced down at the girl, his helmet hiding his disdain. What did she think? Of course someone was trying to shoot her. It was a battle.

But, Sarik didn't even bother to try to change Stella's mind this time as she and Amelia charged at each other once more, exchanging even more fire, all the while the fighter and mobile suit squadrons darting around them, quickly whittling away at each other. There was going to have to be some major reorganization of the defense forces, because this was, for the most part, a bunch of armatures going at it against each other. If ZAFT had come in here with a just a single flight of ZAKUs or GOUFs, the SSI forces wouldn't stand a chance.

Sarik quickly snapped out of his thoughts as he felt the Windslider suddenly lurch as Stella was maneuvering it, while she was trying to find a vantage point from which she could fire on the GuIAZ. And not the kind of lurch that came from circling around and dodging weapons fire. This was out of her controlled pattern, out of place in her normally smooth movements.

"Dammit!" Stella yelled as Amelia took advantage of her momentary weakness to try to maneuver behind the Windslider.

But Stella corrected herself, moving in line once more with her rival's mobile suit. However, just before the fighter's weapons locked on, Stella jerked to the side once more, this time letting out an growl-like groan, the kind someone produced when they were trying not to yell in agony.

"Stella, we need to stop this now!" Sarik told her as he began to adjust the fighter's systems from his position in preparation for his takeover of piloting duties. "I'm calling it off."

"I'm fine!" Stella screamed painfully, forcing the Windslider into a near-vertical climb to meet Amelia head-on. The determined Extended managed to get a burst off before she lost complete control of the fighter.

"Stella!" Sarik yelled as she let out the most pained cry he had ever heard from her. There was definitely something wrong. Stella shouldn't have lost control of the Windslider like this. "Hold on!"

Sarik managed to swap the systems completely over despite the fact that he was being forced to one side of the cockpit, pulling the fighter out of its uncontrolled descent about half a kilometer above the ocean. Sarik locked onto the Somestraba's location and pushed the Windslider's engines to the maximum after disabling the battle computer's simulations.

"This is Ostheim," Sarik said in relative calm over the two skirmishing force's general channel. "This morning's exercises have officially ended. All remaining craft, please return to base."

Sarik glanced over at one of the Windslider's monitors, this one reading the vital signs of him and Stella. Most military aircraft transmitted their pilots life signs to the mothership or airbase from which they launched so that the support crews could keep track of who was alive and who was not. And right now, Stella's vitals were on the edge of safe, her heart rate equivalent to that of someone who had just been shot, though it remained freakishly consistent. That made this situation potentially even worse.

"Just hang on!" Sarik encouraged. "We're almost there!"

Sarik glanced at the GPS. They really were almost there. Little less than a minute away.

"This is Ostheim to Somestraba air control," Sarik reported. "I am coming in for an emergency landing. Please have maintenance and medical crews standing by."

"Roger that," the controller said. "Please touch down on landing strip three. And there will be a wait on that medical attention. We only have one doctor aboard."
"What the hell..." Sarik said under his breath as he brought the fighter in for a landing. Whose bright idea was that?

But Sarik quelled his thoughts as he concentrated on his landing, extending the landing gear and hook. A standard landing was going to be faster, and for all he knew, Stella had minutes.

As Sarik touched down, he could feel the hook made latch onto one of the carrier's wires. He quickly gunned the fighter's engines, toning them back when he was completely sure that the Windslider was securely caught, unable to move forward any further. Sarik completely powered down the fighter and waited for the maintenance crews to rush in a platform before popping the canopy.

Sarik yanked his helmet off and tossed it into the Windslider's seat as he jumped out onto the portable catwalk, running the meter to the front of the cockpit. Sarik detached Stella's helmet and quickly lifted it off of her head, her heavy breathing now noticeable. As he unbuckled her from the chair, he took note of the way she held herself, her hands clasped around her stomach as she curled up into a fetal position.

Sarik lifted Stella out of the Windslider, cradling her in his arms as he carried her towards one of the carrier's entrances. Normally, he couldn't do this AND run, but adrenaline was playing its part. Just another reason to question his own perceptions of his feelings towards Stella.

As Sarik entered one of the elevators bound for the central deck, the young man began to panic. Not only did he not know if Stella's breathing growing slower was a good or bad thing, but now, in addition to that, she was sweaty and feverish, her forehead taking on a slightly red hue. He had to get her help, and fast.

Sarik was already running by the time the elevator doors were sliding open, desperately trying to locate the infirmary. Two corridors later, Sarik finally found it and barged in, only to find that it was completely unoccupied.

Sarik carried Stella inside and set her down on one of the cots, then began searching for a terminal, a phone, something. He quickly located a small communications panel on a wall deeper in the chamber and immediately keyed in to the bridge, the screen soon dominated by the figure of a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper colored hair.

"What is it?" the man asked. "This better not be another prank call."

Sarik shook his head internally. Where the hell was the discipline? This was supposed to be a private army, not some criminal's lackey-based security force.

"This is Ostheim," Sarik informed him in an insulted but calm tone, letting his normal composure fall over him. "I'm in the infirmary at the moment, which is currently quite empty. Where in the hell is the medical crew?"

"Well, we only have on doctor assigned to us right now," the man before Sarik told him. "I can send her your way, if you'd like, sir."

"Inform her its a life and death situation," Sarik ordered emotionlessly. For her, he wanted to add, but he knew that it would be both pointless and destructive if he acted that way right now.

"She'll be down there within ten minutes," the man assured him before cutting off the transmission.

Sarik sighed. He had to get things like this fixed, and fast. This kind of disorganization would result in the loss of many, if not all, of his soldiers' lives if the war made its way to the Orb homeland.

Remembering the entire reason he was here, Sarik walked briskly back to Stella's cot, observing her posture and symptoms as he did. She was trying to curl up into a ball again, her arms around her legs as she lay on her side. When he put a hand to Stella's forehead to estimate her temperature, she seemed to be unable or unwilling to respond to the external stimulus. Her face was burning up, a heavy blush starting to form on her cheeks.

Sarik quickly realized that she was still stuck inside of that flight suit. If he could get that off, it might help with her temperature a little, considering that it was designed to hold in heat for use in the cold environments that accompanied high-altitude and space flight. Sarik began stripping the thick garment off of Stella's body, having to force her arms apart in order to do so. Even while he did that, she seemed to remain unaware of what was happening to her, almost completely unresponsive but for her arms reflexively forcing themselves towards her body.

As he almost had her suit completely off, Sarik's eyes grew wide as he realized that blood stained the entire lower half of the white, knee-length slip that Stella was wearing underneath the suit. He grew even more concerned, because some of the things that Walters had said after the little "incident" a few days back implied that this shouldn't be happening now, nor to this extent.

Sarik tossed the bloodied flight suit off of the end of the cot and moved back into the infirmary, searching for where they stored the medicine. They had to have painkillers around here somewhere. Morphine was doubtful, but there had to be others that would work.

As Sarik finally located what he thought to be a medicine cabinet, the infirmary doors slid open, a red-haired woman about Sarik's height walking in.

"What the hell took you so long?" Sarik inquired bluntly as he returned to the front of the infirmary.

"What were you doing?" the doctor questioned pompously as she walked towards the back of the infirmary. Sarik balled one of his hands into a fist. She was more concerned about some stupid medicine when she had a patient in pain?

"Miss, I have someone for you to look at," Sarik told the doctor in relative calm. "She's in a lot of pain. Would you please come over and look at her?"

The woman opened one of the medicine cabinets and began sorting through its contents, her mouthing implying that she was counting.

"Doctor!" Sarik yelled. "We need you now!"

The woman continued counting out the medicine before turning her attention to Sarik.

"Had to make sure you didn't take anything," she told Sarik. "Now what seems to be the problem?"

"She's bleeding, bad," Sarik informed the woman with an aggravated growl.

The doctor returned to the front of the infirmary, walking towards Stella's cot. She glanced over her once, then turned towards Sarik.

"Period," she told Sarik without so much as slightly bending her hips to get a better look at Stella.

"I figured that, but this bad?" Sarik questioned.

"Some are worse than others," the doctor told him as she shrugged. "I can get her some medication to help with the pain a little. That's all I would be allowed to prescribe."

"But she shouldn't even be having this," Sarik informed her as she strolled lazily towards the medicine cabinet.

"And you would know this, how?" the doctor inquired as she opened one of the doors and dug out a medicine bottle.

"That's none of your business," Sarik told her calmly.

"Sure it isn't," she remarked sarcastically as she handed him the container. "Now she can take one of these every six hours. Make sure she stays clean, and come back in a few days if her symptoms haven't settled down."

"Come back?" Sarik questioned angrily.

"Yes," the doctor said. "I have several patients on their way here from a training exercise. I need you to get her out of here before then."

Sarik stared at the woman in utter amazement. Not only was she acting like a a complete bitch, but she didn't even remotely take into consideration of her individual patients problems or needs. Did she really expect him, a guy, to be able to take care of this?

"Get out," Sarik told her, letting his cold, no-nonsense composure fall over him.

"Excuse me?" the doctor almost laughed.

"Get out of this infirmary, now," Sarik ordered her, a bit more forceful this time.

"Who do you think you are?" the woman inquired.

"Sarik Ostheim, President and CEO of Silver Shield Incorporated," Sarik informed her arrogantly. "As of now, you are no longer under my employ. You are to vacate this ship and all SSI facilities within the next twenty-four hours."

"I think we need to make a call to the..." the woman started as she began walking towards the comm unit.

But she never had a chance to finish, as Sarik had his knife drawn and stuck it to the wall, his arm impeding the doctor's progress.

"Get the hell off my ship!" Sarik yelled forcefully. "Now!"

The woman slowly backed away, raising her hands slightly. Sarik continued to glare at her from that position until the door slid shut.

Sarik sighed in between one of his pants as he sheathed his knife. He really was crazy, wasn't he?

* * *

"So you're trying to tell me that this is all the result of the regeneratives?" Sarik questioned from his position on the cot next to Stella as he held her. In the two hours he and Stella had been here, Sarik had managed to get the crew to set up an entire portable comm center set up in the infirmary, forty centimeter screen included. On the other end was Doctor Walters and Sarah, both currently sitting in their private quarters.

"Well, from the information I have here and the symptoms you're describing to me, that's the only possible thing I can think of," Walters informed as he flipped through the paper files that he held. "The regeneratives accelerate the rate of one's metabolism by several times for a few hours in order to increase their healing capacity. Apparently, Stella's consistent therapy has caused parts of her internal anatomy to regenerate when they weren't supposed to, if you catch my drift. It just happened to be bad timing on your part to take her out today."

"So this was going to happen, anyway?" Sarik asked.

"Most likely, yes, though not to this extent" Walters replied. "If stress hadn't started this, this might not be affecting her as badly. Though I couldn't properly say. Female anatomy isn't exactly my specialization."

Sarik sighed, then glanced over at Stella, who was staring up at him from her curled-up position on her side, her head resting on his left leg. Under Walters supervision, he had medicated Stella with several compounds in order to help reduce the severity of her symptoms. Though the fever was gone and the bleeding under relative control, it did little to end the girl's pain, and she still couldn't move very much. However, as of the past hour, Stella had grown conscious enough to be able to perceive her surroundings and interact with them as much as her body would allow.

"So, can one of you come over here to help out?" Sarik inquired.

"I couldn't be out there for another day," Sarah informed Sarik. "Sorry."

"And I'm having to deal with a number of problems here," Walters told him.

"So who would you suggest I get to help me out with...?" Sarik asked, unable to finish his sentence.

"Amelia is still over there, isn't she?" Sarah inquired after a few seconds of thought. "Why not ask her?"

"I don't think that's an option," Sarik replied.

"Well, it looks like you'll have to do it yourself, then," Sarah informed him.

Sarik sighed once more. The day was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

"Thanks anyway, guys," Sarik told them. "I'm signing off now."

"Bye," Sarah told him.

"See ya," Walters said.

Sarik bumped his head against the wall behind the cot as he reached over and hit the comm's power button. How was he going to do this? He'd cleaned up what his squeamishness would allow, but he just flat out wasn't comfortable around women, at least in respect to things that exclusively involved women. And his entire dilemma with Stella, compounded by the events a couple days ago, just made everything worse.

"Sarik," Stella muttered.

Sarik glanced down over at her to find that she had a had one of her hands outstretched across his lap. Sarik took her hand in one of his and stroked her hair with the other. He had to help her through this, without condition, just as he would Amelia, or Aaron, the twins, or any of his other friends. He would just have to grow a pair.

"Stella, I'm going to go get some things," Sarik informed Stella. "Will you be fine on your own for a little while?"

Stella stared at him for a moment, then nodded her head. Sarik bent over and put his head to hers, closing his eyes as they made contact. He HAD to do this.

"I'll be back quick," Sarik whispered to her before shifting a pillow underneath her head as he climbed to his feet. Sarik glanced back at her one more time before moving briskly towards the exit.

As Sarik was locking the infirmary behind him, he spotted Amelia, now dressed in civilian clothes, standing down the corridor, staring down at the ground. Had she been here this entire time, he wondered, or was this just a coincidence?

As Sarik made a step towards Amelia, she looked up at him, then began turning in the opposite direction.

"Amelia, please wait," Sarik pleaded softly.

The girl stopped mid-turn, her expression showing confusion. Apparently, he'd made himself sound desperate enough. As desperate as he truly was.

"What?" Amelia questioned impatiently.

"Would you please help me out?" he asked.

"Why?" Amelia inquired.

Sarik looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then went about explaining the entire situation to the teenage woman. She seemed to be taking it pretty well, considering her mood yesterday.

"You really care about her, don't you?" Amelia asked rhetorically.

"You know I would be the same if it were you," Sarik told her. "I hate to see either of you in pain."

Amelia stared back down at the floor for a moment, deep in thought. Sarik feared what would happen if she thought for too long. Would she come to hate him or Stella even more? Would she come to a point where she would just flat-out leave, never to be seen again by anyone?

"I'll help you," Amelia said emotionlessly. "On one condition."

"Anything," Sarik told her. And he meant it.

Amelia looked up at him, her stare so intense that right then, Sarik had a pretty good idea of what she wanted.

"Kiss me," she almost whispered.

Sarik stared back down at her for a moment, a thousand thoughts going off in his head at once. But at this point, he basically had to. He needed Amelia's help, because even IF he could get past his initial squeamishness, Sarik still didn't know the first thing about caring for a girl in Stella's circumstances. Most men probably didn't.

Sarik reached a hand behind Amelia's head and leaned over. He held her like that for a moment, hesitating, but tried to build up enough courage. A warrior and corporate billionaire, and yet he still couldn't find the guts to kiss a girl that he cared for.

Sarik leaned over even more and planted a long kiss on Amelia's forehead.

Sarik released the girl, who stared back up at him. They both stood like that for nearly a full minute in silence.

"Thank you," Amelia finally said, running a hand along the side of her head.

"What?" Sarik questioned, confused.

"Thank you," she told him. "I needed that."

Sarik stared at her curiously for a moment. He hadn't given what she wanted, had he?

"But I thought you said..." Sarik started.

"I just said a kiss," Amelia reminded him, putting up a hand as if she were motioning for him to halt. "We'll leave it at that. I didn't think I'd get even this out of you, as stubborn as you are."

Sarik's expression went from that of curiosity to disdain in an instant. Few appreciated it when they were wrongfully accused of something, him especially. But, there was time to repair his damaged pride later.

"Thank you," Sarik told Amelia. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."

"Just for the record, this doesn't mean I like Stella," Amelia informed him. "And you really do need to get used to doing stuff like this. There won't always be another woman around to help you out if something like this happens again."

Sarik sighed, smiling slightly. She just didn't get it, did she? Actually, she didn't get two things, but that was besides the point.

"I know, I know," he assured. "Let's just go get her things."

Amelia smiled, then grabbed onto Sarik's right arm in a similar fashion to Stella. He mentally shook his head as they began moving towards the elevators. Was this going to become a regular occurrence with these two?