Gundam Wing: Journey to a New Battlefield

by operation meteor

The war is won, yet he cannot find peace. When a mission gone wrong throws Heero into another world, how will he survive? And how will he react when he is confronted with his greatest challenge yet? For love can be trickier than any battlefield foe...

11. Chapter 11

Author's notes: I've given up on trying to do short chapters, so long ones guaranteed for pretty much the rest of the fic.

Well, enjoy!

Episode Eleven: Fall of House Clyne

Murrue smiled slightly as she took her seat on the bridge. She'd just seen off Heero and Kira as they had left to go work with Morgenroete again for the day and was now starting her shift. It would be another slow day as her primary responsibility would just be to monitor the work crews through the ship's outer hull cameras and make sure the overall repairs of the Archangel were going smoothly.

She didn't care in the least how boring her watch would be though. The past two weeks had been the most wonderful time of her life, thanks to a certain young pilot. In the time since their first date- and she had no doubt that was precisely what that incredible afternoon out on the town fourteen days ago had been- they had explored several other parts of the island and the city. They had gone on a hike near the volcano at the center of Onogoro, taken a boat tour around the island, had visited other parts of the city, and in general had just spent their time off work relaxing and enjoying each other's company. None of their outings quite matched their first one, but Murrue was just fine with that. That evening, she thought, was simply amazing. I'm not going to pressure him into trying to repeat something like that. Our first date… it came naturally, it wasn't planned or anything. That's why it was so wonderful, I think. Our subsequent outings together have been smaller, and perhaps not quite as romantic, but that's alright. I've still enjoyed every bit of them… thanks to Heero.

Their last excursion, which had been yesterday, had been a simple trip out to one of the island's beaches. They hadn't gone swimming or anything like that; they didn't have any bathing suits after all, and Orb hadn't seen fit to provide any. Instead, they had packed some sandwiches, drinks, and a blanket and had had a picnic. After they had finished their meal, they had packed up and just walked along the shore for a few hours, watching the waves roll in as the sun set. It had been a simple enough outing compared to their first date, but Murrue had still loved every minute of it, and she had a feeling that Heero felt the same way.

She was now more certain than ever that she was indeed falling for the young man, but that didn't put all her doubts to rest. For one thing, he was ten years her junior, and technically a minor. While she knew that mentally and emotionally the young man was as mature as her or any other adult, she also knew that a relationship could cause problems. She wasn't worried about the consequences for herself, but she did not want to take advantage of Heero in any way. Murrue knew that, for all his skills in the art of war and wisdom beyond his years, Heero had practically no experience when it came to love. She didn't want to rush things and make him uncomfortable. Instead, she felt that the best thing to do would be to act like she had during their first date; kind, supportive, and understanding. I need to give his own feelings time to develop, she thought, while I'm now positive that they've deepened with regards to the bond we share, I have to let him come to terms with them and try to understand them. If they are indeed the same as mine… well, he believes in acting on his emotions, so I'm sure he'll make a move of some kind when he's ready for it. In the meantime, I'm happy just with the way things are now.

In addition to those concerns, she was also worried about what might happen if one of them acted too soon, without considering any implications or problems that might arise. She had come to value her friendship with Heero more than anything else in the world, and she didn't want to jeopardize it. Murrue knew that, if their feelings toward each other were indeed mutually romantic, that they would come to terms eventually and work together to overcome any obstacles that might threaten their relationship, but they couldn't rush things. Love can't be forced, she thought, it has its own flow, its own schedule, and timing is key in order to avoid disrupting it.

In the meanwhile, she was content to smile in anticipation of Heero's return to the ship, thought it wouldn't be for several hours of course. They had nothing special planned for the evening, but Murrue was fine with that. Maybe we'll just hang around here, she thought, go to the mess and have a meal together, then head to the officer's lounge and relax… I'd like that.

Heero… take care of yourself today. I can't wait for you to come back here… back to me.

….

"Father?" said Athrun, eyes widening slightly, "Forgive me, I wasn't expecting you to call."

The ZAFT pilot was in his quarters at the Carpentaria base. As a team leader, Athrun rated solo accommodations, including his own washroom. He had just finished showering and had thrown on a light blue bathrobe when he'd heard a message over the intercom saying that he had someone on the line for him. Sitting down at his desk and activating the communications screen/ computer, he had been surprised to see that the image that appeared was none other than Defense Chairman Patrick Zala.

"Quite alright," he replied, "I know you've been busy lately."

"Yes," said Athrun. 'Busy' hadn't been the half of it. Though he had been on standby in the two weeks that had gone by since the battle at Orb's border, the deaths of most of the base's mobile suit pilots meant that his team was the most experienced one around, and they had been put to work drilling the replacement pilots that had eventually been assigned to Carpentaria to shore up the ranks. They were raw recruits, fresh out of the multitude of military academies ZAFT had established across the PLANT colonies, and Athrun shuddered at the thought of them going up against Wing Zero. It would be a complete slaughter… not that the previous engagement wasn't one itself.

"I hear you're acting as Carpentaria's flight-instructor," his father said, a slight smile on his face, "I'm sure our newest pilots will benefit from your experience."

Athrun bowed his head. "Thank you, father." Truth be told, praise was something he'd received only rarely from his father, and as a result he wasn't always sure how to react to it.

The Defense Chairman sighed. "I'm sure you know that I didn't call you just to check on their progress. I have a new mission for you, my son."

Athrun's eyes widened. He sat up a bit straighter in his chair. "What is it, sir?"

"I'm approving an infiltration of Orb," he said, smiling "the Cousteau will arrive at Carpentaria in a week, and will be acting as your base of operations from here on out. A Military Intelligence unit is being transferred to her; they'll provide you with everything you need to slip into the country undetected."

"What is the goal of the operation?" said Athrun.

"To determine the location of the legged ship and its mobile suits," said the elder Zala, "once you've done that, we will prepare an attack squadron. They'll be waiting outside Orb's territorial waters until the enemy departs; we can't afford a war with that country quite yet. You're team will be part of the strike force, of course."

"What other units will be participating?" asked Athrun, "The only squad of ours that has been able to fight Wing Zero for any serious length of time is the Valkyrie Team. Will they be returning to the front?"

"No," said Patrick, and Athrun saw his expression harden at the mention of ZAFT's greatest mobile suit team. Did I say something wrong?, thought Athrun, Father seems almost hostile to Commander Rehema and her unit. But why? They're the best we got, and the only ones with a chance in hell at holding off Wing Zero.

The Defense Chairman did not give a reason, but he did elaborate on what other units would comprise the strike force. "I will send the Special Operations Squadrons Ofnir and Grabacr to Carpentaria while you are preparing for your infiltration. They're in the Mediterranean theatre right now, so it will take some time for them to transfer with their carriers. We've just finished outfitting them with DINN Mk. IIs, the same mobile suits used by the Valkyrie Team. Together with your team, Ofnir and Grabacr will be more than enough to take down Wing Zero, the Strike, and that damned battleship."

Only Ofnir and Grabacr?, thought Athrun, making an effort to hide his frustration, I've heard they're good, but both teams only have six members each. Counting my team, that's sixteen mobile suits. Wing Zero all but annihilated our last strike force, and we had forty machines!

The enemy's power aside, there was another reason that Athrun was uneasy. Special Operations was a branch of ZAFT that reported directly to the Defense Chairman, completely bypassing the Defense Council. Officially this was to cut down on red tape and streamline the organization's activities, but Athrun had heard rumors that its true purpose was to essentially act as Patrick Zala's Praetorian Guard. Supposedly composed of elite soldiers from mobile suit teams, fleet task forces, and ground units, several critics had accused the branch of being staffed by servicemen and women who were handpicked by Zala purely out of favoritism rather than skill. While Athrun would've preferred to think the best of his father, the young man had gone out of his way to do research on the group, and had found that the accusations had more merit than he would've otherwise suspected. Though the selected soldiers certainly were compentent, many of them also had ties in one form or another to the PLANT radical faction. Also, there was the glaring fact that, despite their status as the best pilots in ZAFT, neither Commander Rehema nor any of her teammates had been selected to join Special Operations. Athrun had heard rumors that his father disliked the Valkyrie due to her views being more in line with the PLANT moderate faction rather than Zala's, but had dismissed them until he had begun reading up on Special Operations. While he still trusted his father, the young man did have concerns over the organization his father was building.

Athrun himself was not part of Special Operations, nor were his teammates. He suspected that his father wanted them to get more battlefield experience before offering them positions in the organization. While he was fine with that, Athrun found it strange that Commander Creuset was also not a member of Special Operations, especially considering his position as the elder Zala's favorite officer. The young man wondered if his father wanted the masked ace to act as his eyes and ears within the regular forces.

Regardless of his doubts and frustration, the pilot knew he could not let his dismay show as he addressed his father. "Sir," he said, "with all due respect to the Ofnir and Grabacr Squadrons, shouldn't we have more teams in on this operation? I fear they might not be enough to handle Wing Zero."

The elder Zala's eyes narrowed and his tone became cooler. "Need I remind you that each and every one of the pilots in those units was handpicked by me to join Special Observations? Are you questioning the judgment of your Supreme Commander?"

"N-no sir," stammered Athrun, "I'm just concerned about the enemy's firepower, that's all."

"Pilot Zala," said the Defense Chairman, using his son's rank as a means of asserting superiority and authority, "regardless of that machine's past performance, it will be no match for the combined might of Ofnir and Grabacr. They will take care of Wing Zero while your team destroys the legged ship. You will not be given any additional forces; Operation Spitbreak remains top priority. Furthermore, you and your fellow pilots are ZAFT Reds, as are all the warriors that will be joining you. You are our best pilots. No foe can stand against such soldiers!"

You're forgetting that the Valkyrie's subordinates are all Reds, thought Athrun, as was Shemei Rehema herself before she became a Commander. Rank means nothing to Wing Zero's pilot!

Nevertheless, regardless of how he felt, Athrun knew that to argue with his father at this point would accomplish nothing. The young man just nodded. "Of course, sir. Forgive my lapse in judgment, it will not happen again."

"Good," said Patrick, and much to Athrun's surprise, softened his expression somewhat. "By the way, have you been keeping in touch with your fiancé?"

The ZAFT pilot was slightly taken aback by the sudden change in topic, but he recovered quickly. "Yes, I just sent her an email yesterday. Don't worry, I did not mention any classified material."

The elder Zala smiled. "I'm sure you didn't, my son. Although… you don't have to limit yourself to just email, you know. As the Defense Chairman, I can arrange a private video conference line for the two of you."

"I appreciate the offer," said Athrun, "but I'm afraid I must decline. In light of our recent losses, how would it look if I accepted such preferential treatment?"

"No one other than us would need to know," said Patrick, "but if that's the way you feel, then I won't press the matter. Still, you should stay in contact with her. I'm sure she could use the cheering up, considering her family's declining political fortunes."

Athrun couldn't help but notice his father sneer slightly. It was subtle, and may have been accidental, but he still caught it, and didn't like it. I may not follow politics, he thought, but I can still read between the lines, and in her emails I can clearly see Lacus's concern for her father, though she doesn't directly mention it. She doesn't care for political games, and I know she's worried about all the stress Chairman Clyne is under. Lacus isn't the type to fuss over whether her father losses the election, but she does care about his well-being, and your attacks on him haven't helped in that regard, father! You're hurting her almost as much as you are Chairman Clyne!

Though he was still unsure about his feelings regarding his arranged bride-to-be, Athrun did at least like Lacus as a friend, and he didn't want her to be hurt by the political brawl in the PLANT capital. Unfortunately, for all his civility in private, it seemed his father did not think about his son's concerns while out on the campaign trail, and the verbal attacks were about as indiscriminate as a World War Two style bombing raid.

Athrun was uncomfortable discussing politics in general, but he actually felt even worse when he did so with his own father. While the young man did believe that the Earth Forces needed to be decisively defeated before peace talks could be held, he could not help but think that his father wanted to take things further. We can't occupy Earth, he thought, we just don't have the numbers for it. We'd have to institute a draft, and the people would no doubt be furious at such a move!

Still, his father had forced politics into this conversation, so the best Athrun could do was play along and hope for the best. "I take it your election campaign is going well, father?" he said.

The black-haired man smiled. "Oh yes, very well. You just wait, my son. Soon we will have complete control over the PLANTs, and then we can do what our current Chairman seems unwilling to do; bring the Naturals to their knees. I'll be counting on your help when the time comes, Athrun."

"Of course, father," he replied, "I promise I won't disappoint you."

"Good," the elder Zala replied, "Now, I suggest that you study up on Orb in the time it takes for the Cousteau to travel to Carpentaria. Tell your teammates to do so as well; we can't afford to have you four blowing your cover and getting captured."

"I understand," said Athrun, "I'll let the others know at once."

"Excellent," said his father, "Well then, farewell." He cut the connection before Athrun could respond.

The young man sighed. "I suppose I better go tell the others."

As he stood up and got changed into his uniform, he couldn't help but worry over what his father had said. 'Bring the Naturals to their knees'? Father, what are you planning?

An image of the girl he'd met on the island over two and a half weeks ago flashed through his mind. Cagalli… she's a Natural… father, do your plans involve all Naturals, or just those in charge of the Alliance?

….

"So, what do you think of this setup?" asked Erica.

It was a little after eleven in the morning, and Erica was once again hard at work. She was sitting at a console in the control room at the underground Morgenroete facility again, with Heero Yuy standing to her right, wearing his usual jeans, green tank-top, and dark blue jacket. His fellow mobile suit pilot was in the cockpit of the M1 again doing work on the machine's operating system, with Asagi, Juri, and Mayura standing nearby in case he needed help. Cagalli had also stopped by again, though this time she was in the control room rather than down in the hangar. Orb's princess was standing a little off to the side of Heero, unable to hide her interest in the work Erica and the Gundam pilot were doing.

The Chief Engineer of Morgenroete smiled as the brown-haired young man leaned in a bit, his Prussian blue eyes narrowing as he examined the image on the screen. "Not a bad lay-out," he said after a moment, "but it is limited to atmospheric combat."

"Well, it is only one model," she said, "and it uses the Aries frame as the base, so that limitation is natural." Her hands flew across the keyboard, and other schematics popped up as well. "Here are some other concept units I've come up with using your data."

After looking over the images for a few seconds, Heero turned to Erica. "May I?" he said, gesturing to the computer mouse.

"Go for it," she said.

He grabbed the device and began enlarging a few images. Some he then dragged off to the side, while a few others he exited out of. After about five minutes there were a couple designs on the screen.

Heero turned to her. "I think these would be your best units for production, full or limited. Of course, depending on Kira's work you could eventually add the M1 to that list, but these will give you a relatively balanced force in the meantime. I have to say, I'm impressed. You've only had this data for two weeks and you've already come up with this many variants and modifications of the designs, and some are already at the point that you could begin building prototypes."

Erica smiled. "Quite a compliment coming from the pilot of Wing Zero. Thanks, I appreciate that."

Heero nodded, and then turned as Cagalli moved in front of him. Studying the designs on the screen for a moment, she then looked at the Gundam pilot. "Are all these based off machines you've fought in the past?"

"Yeah," he said, "they should be easy enough for your government to produce. Training pilots for them is another matter, but that's not my problem."

"I'm surprised you were willing to give us this much," said Cagalli.

"It's not like it's Wing Zero," said Heero, "and the information I've given Orb isn't enough for them to build a Gundam, especially considering the fact that I didn't hand over the techniques needed to create the alloy that such a machine is made out of."

He turned to Erica. "With the right pilots, any of these designs should be enough to match the conventional mobile suits in ZAFT's arsenal, though they'd probably have a tougher time with the Alliance prototypes."

"That's fine," said Erica, "considering that any mass-production model the Alliance ends up building in all likelihood won't have Phase Shift Armor due to the sheer costs in building mobile suits with that system. I think these designs would match up evenly with whatever the Alliance decides to roll out for its main-line forces."

"Then you don't really need my help anymore, do you?" said Heero.

Erica lowered her head for a moment, thinking. He might be right… his insights have been invaluable up to now, but in the end he's a pilot, not an MS designer. Thanks to him, I have all the data I need to come up with models Orb can put into production, and I believe that Kira's programming skills are the key to unlocking the full potential of the M1 Astray. In that light, I suppose I don't need him to come by here anymore… but he has such a wealth of experience and knowledge! Of course, he's only been willing to share select bits of it, and I'm not sure how much more I'd be able to convince him to divulge…

In the end, she decided that the Gundam pilot had more than fulfilled his end of the bargain. Erica turned to him and smiled. "Yes, I suppose you have a point. I'll have someone take you back to the dock."

"I'll do it," said Cagalli, surprising both of them. As they turned to her, she smiled. "What, you don't think I walked here, do you?"

"Well," said Erica, "I was actually under the impression that you had been dropped off by security agents."

"Nope," she said, "I drove myself here. I'll give him a lift back." She turned to Heero. "If that's alright with you, anyway."

He nodded. "Sure. Thanks."

"No problem," she said.

"I suppose this is farewell, at least for now," said Erica. She held out her hand. "It's been a pleasure working with you, Heero Yuy."

The pilot smirked slightly as he shook her hand. "Yeah, I have to admit, it was actually kind of fun."

Erica smiled. "I'll see you around, then. Perhaps we can work together again someday."

"Who knows?" he replied, "Anything can happen; the world is a strange place… no matter which one you live in."

The engineer laughed. "Yes, you certainly have a point there."

….

"So," said Heero as they walked down the corridor towards the parking garage, "why the sudden generosity?"

Cagalli sighed. Doesn't this guy trust anyone other than Captain Ramius? Although, I guess I'd be lying if I said I didn't have an ulterior motive here…

"I'll get to the point," she said, "there were some things I wanted to ask you about."

"You know I might not answer," said Heero, "depending on the subject."

"Yes," she replied as they entered the garage, "I'm aware of that." She led the way to her car, a plain black four door sedan, government issue.

She saw Heero raise his eyebrow slightly. "This is yours?"

"Technically no," she replied, "but I'm authorized to borrow any car out of a government motor pool, with the exception being any vehicle on reserve for my father or another head of a noble family."

"I see," he said as she unlocked the doors.

After they climbed in and she keyed the ignition, Cagalli turned to the Gundam pilot. "My first question; why are you so accepting of my father's scheme?"

"You're referring to cooperating with the Alliance in order to develop mobile suits," said Heero.

"Yes," she said, "it's just… so low; it completely violates the underlying philosophy of this nation. I'm disgusted by his hypocrisy… how can you not be?"

"Because," he replied, "I've seen what happens to nations that do not have the power to defend themselves. If your father has to make some unsavory deals to shore up Orb's defenses, I see no problem with it."

"But he's using you," said Cagalli as she drove towards the elevator, "You can't tell me that doesn't bother you."

"I'll admit I don't particularly like it," said Heero, "but he's not getting Wing Zero's designs or combat data; that knowledge could send this world spiraling down the path of Armageddon if it fell into the wrong hands, so I'm naturally going to do anything necessary to prevent its proliferation. I have no issue with him having access to the more conventional MS designs from my world, and that's what he's gotten. Also, I do respect the risk he's taken in sheltering us, so I consider this my way of paying off a debt. I know Murrue feels the same way."

There he goes again, Cagalli thought as she entered the elevator and activated it, he never seems to call her 'Captain Ramius'; only 'Murrue'. Why is she the only one he really trusts? She knew the odds of him answering that question were about as high as a snowball lasting longer than five minutes in the Sahara though, so she didn't bother asking.

"What else did you want to know?" asked Heero, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Well," she said as the lift came to a stop, her voice becoming a little softer, tinged with worry, "with the way things are right now, how much longer do you think Orb can avoid getting involved openly in the war?"

"Hard to say," he replied, "that's really dependent on a large number of factors. The upcoming elections for the PLANT Supreme Council Chairman could mean the ascendancy of a leader willing to take a more hard line approach to the war, and ZAFT's tolerance for Orb's dalliances with the Earth Forces has already grown thin; the Heliopolis attack is evidence enough of that. Alliance politics could play a role as well; the more desperate they become, the more they may be willing to use force to convince the few remaining neutral nations to join with them to fight ZAFT. If they approach Orb with a new cooperative venture like the construction of the Archangel and those mobile suits, and Orb refuses this time, things could get messy. Also, from what I've heard there's a significant Coordinator population within Orb that fled here in order to stay out of the conflict. A large population of them still on Earth would be an attractive target for the Blue Cosmos organization; a major terrorist attack by them could be used by ZAFT as a pretense to invade Orb in order to protect the Coordinators living there."

Unbelievable, she thought, this guy… he's only been in our world for a few weeks, but he's already analyzed and read the political situation so thoroughly! His grasp of the bigger picture along with minute details… the way he does it, it seems almost intuitive. Hell, I never even considered the possibility of a Blue Cosmos attack in Orb, let alone ZAFT using it as a reason to invade, but the way he speaks of it makes it seems like that scenario should be a major possibility… in fact, it probably is! Has father or anyone else considered something like that?

As the elevator came to a stop all she could do was nod her head. "I see… but those are scenarios, not time frames. I don't suppose you can narrow things down a bit, can you?"

"The situation is still too fluid for me to make an accurate prediction," said Heero as she drove out of the fake warehouse and towards the security checkpoint, "If I had to make a ballpark estimate, I'd say sometime within the next four months. That's the best I've got for now."

"I suppose that's better than nothing," said Cagalli. After the guard raised the gate, she took the car out onto the main road and headed towards the Morgenroete facility above the secret dock that housed the Archangel. "Thanks though, I appreciate the input."

"No problem," he said. Stealing a glance over at him, Cagalli saw the Gundam pilot lean back in his seat and look out the window. After a moment he spoke. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

Nothing that you'd be willing to answer, she thought. She shook her head. "No, that was it. We should be arriving at the primary Morgenroete facility in a few minutes."

Cagalli saw him smile slightly at that. "Good… it'll be nice to get back to the Archangel."

To the Archangel, she thought as she drove, or to Captain Ramius? I wonder if…nah, I'm just imagining things…

….

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," said Murrue as she walked down the gangway.

She smiled as Heero met her at the halfway point, turning briefly to nod at Cagalli as she waved. When the girl started walking away, he looked at Murrue and returned her smile. "Miss Simmons doesn't really need my help anymore, just Kira's. So I got to come back early. I figured I'd come join you on the bridge, unless your shift ended early today."

"No, I just took a quick break when I saw you on the outer hull cameras," she said, "I'd love to have you up on the bridge again; I've missed being able to turn to you up there for advice."

"It's not like you really need it here," he said as they headed towards the hatch, "we are still undergoing repairs, after all."

"True," said Murrue, "but still, you have a very unique perspective on what's happening in this world when compared to the others on the bridge, so I think your presence up there is incredibly valuable."

"Thanks," said Heero, "I appreciate that. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Not much," she replied as they entered the ship, "thought I did get word from the Orb government regarding the families of the students from Heliopolis. They'll be able to come by next week to visit. Since our presence here is top-secret, Orb had to take care in its preparations before contacting the families."

"I'm sure the students will appreciate that," said Heero.

"Indeed," said Murrue, "they were quite excited when I told them. The only one who doesn't know now is Kira; I'll inform him when he gets back later."

"He'll be happy to hear that," he said.

Murrue nodded. "He deserves some time with them, especially after all we've put him through… I still feel bad that he has to pilot the Strike."

"Don't," said Heero, taking her hand, "remember, he volunteered to stay up in orbit. You gave him a chance to leave with those discharge papers, along with the other students from Heliopolis. They chose to stay, so you have nothing to feel guilty over."

"If you say so," she said, giving him a small smile as she squeezed his hand briefly, "by the way, why was Cagalli with you earlier?"

"She gave me a lift back here from the test facility," said Heero, "she had some questions she wanted to run by me concerning Orb's current situation, and I guess she figured the car ride would be the best time to ask."

"I see," said Murrue as they approached the bridge. Heero let go of her hand just before she opened the door. Murrue knew it wouldn't look professional for the two of them to be walking into the bridge hand in hand, but she still felt herself wishing he'd held on a little longer…

As the door opened and they walked in, she turned to Heero. "What's your impression of Morgenroete? You and Kira have had much higher level access to the company compared to the rest of us, and I know how observant you are. Do you think they'll use the data we've given them responsibly?"

The young man nodded. "Miss Simmons is the only one with complete access to that data. She'll present whatever designs she thinks are good for production to Lord Uzumi, and then he'll order the company to make them. The fact that the data I gave them is from another world will be contained; I don't think Simmons will tell even Lord Uzumi about that little detail."

"What makes you so confident of that?" said Murrue as she sat down.

Heero smiled slightly. "Because she's a lot like you. Determined to do the right thing to protect what she cares about, but also willing to keep the secrets of others. I don't think we'll have any problems from her."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. Murrue looked over at Heero as he settled in to his usual spot right next to her chair. "I should warn you, it gets pretty dull just watching the repair work until shift's over. You don't have to stick around if you don't want to."

The Gundam pilot shook his head. "It's alright, I don't mind."

He smiled at her again, and Murrue felt her heart flutter slightly. Is he staying for me? I think… he is.

She smiled back. "Alright then. I'm glad you're done at Morgenroete. It's good to have you back on the bridge."

Heero nodded. "Same here."

….

The Clyne residence was an impressive piece of architecture. Three stories high, the white house combined elements of classical, baroque, and modern construction designs, creating a truly one of a kind home. Out on a spacious back patio, overlooking a large garden and the colony's artificial lake in the distance, Lacus Clyne sat at a table. Wearing a simple white dress, the popular singer and daughter of the Supreme Chairman was waiting patiently for her guests to arrive. Around her bounced a swarm of orb-like Haro robots, each painted a different color. Jumping up and down, occasionally saying their catchphrase "Haro!", the simple, fun loving machines had been made for her by Athrun. Lacus smiled as she looked down at the pink Haro she was holding at the moment, the very first one that her fiancé had built for her. She had been amazed at how gifted he was with machines, and had been overjoyed when he'd decided to build her more Haros. In fact, practically every time he came to visit he had a new one for her, resulting in the rainbow congregation that was hopping around her.

I'm glad he's doing alright, she though. She had received an email from him the day before, and though it hadn't gone into any classified information, Lacus was skilled enough at reading between the line to know that Athrun and his team had once again fought against the Archangel… which meant that he had also been forced to confront his best friend, Kira Yamato. It's so sad… both of them are such good people. They shouldn't have to fight each other. Obviously Athrun had survived, and she was sure that the ship and its mobile suits had as well; Lacus was certain that he would have said something if they had been taken down.

Though the Archangel was an Alliance vessel, she bore its crew no ill will. On the contrary, she had prayed for their safety on a few occasions out of the gratitude she had towards them. Lacus knew that without them she may well have died, and she had been very well treated from her recovery up until she had been transferred over to ZAFT. The one exception had been the red-haired girl that had tried to use her as a hostage, but Lacus did not begrudge her for that, especially after learning that her father was aboard one of the ships ZAFT was attacking, and had been killed during the fighting. I can't imagine how that must feel… I don't know what I would do if I lost my father.

"Miss Lacus," came a voice from behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw the family butler standing near the back door. "Your guests have arrived; shall I escort them out here?"

She nodded. "Yes, please do so."

The man bowed and went back inside. A few seconds later he came back out, leading the two people Lacus had arranged to meet with today.

She smiled and stood up as the two visitors walked over. "Commander Rehema, Field Marshal Bristow; thank you for coming."

The two officers returned her smile. Both were in civilian clothing; Shemei was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt, while Eric had on a pair of khakis and a blue shirt.

"It's not like I'm particularly busy at the moment," said Shemei, "and I'm always happy to see you, Lacus. It's too bad your father's at work right now."

"Or is that precisely why you wanted us to come over at this time?" said Eric, a slight smirk on his face, "Even with the prep work for Operation Spitbreak, it's still easy enough for me to slip away for a couple hours, but the Supreme Council Chairman doesn't even have that luxury."

Lacus nodded. "You are as perceptive as always, Mr. Bristow. Please, sit down, both of you."

As they joined her at the table, Lacus turned to the butler. "Mr. Reese? Could you prepare some tea, please?"

"Of course, miss," he said, "I'll bring it out as soon as it's ready." With that he went back inside.

"I'm curious," said Shemei, "why did you want to meet us here without your father?"

"Because I do not wish to worry him," she replied. She sighed. "He has enough concerns to deal with at the moment as it is."

Lacus saw the two soldiers trade nervous glances. Turning back to her, Shemei spoke first. "What do you want to discuss that you fear will worry your father?"

"The future," Lacus said, "I need both of your honest opinions of what the short and long-term consequences of Patrick Zala's election to the position of Supreme Council Chairman will mean for our people… and how we can act to rein him in should he go too far."

There was silence for a moment before Eric spoke up. "It seems as though you've accepted the reality before your own father has."

She nodded. "As much as it pains me to admit it, my father cannot win. He still holds out some hope for a turnaround, but Zala's campaign was masterful." She sighed. "The Defense Chairman played the people's desires to bring the conflict to an end like a harp, and their response has been overwhelming. As head of the armed forces, Zala gives them a sense of security that my father has been unable to do so. The majority of the people have become convinced that only a hardliner has what it takes to swiftly end the war… regardless of the potential costs."

Lacus met the gaze of the Field Marshal turned reluctant staff officer. "Mr. Bristow, you have closer access to the Defense Chairman that either Miss Rehema or myself. Can you shed some light on his immediate plans upon assuming the mantle of head-of-state?"

"That's easier said than done," Eric replied. He looked down for a moment in thought before turning back to Lacus. "I know Operation Spitbreak is his top priority, but there's something wrong with the preparations for it."

She tilted her head slightly, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Shemei was curious as well. "This is the first I've heard of a hitch in Spitbreak. What's up, Eric?"

The deputy chief of staff looked over at the Valkyrie and shook his head. "It's not that something's gone wrong with the prep work; Zala's in too good of a mood for it to be something like that. Rather, the best way I can describe it is that the entire setup is wrong, or at least it looks that way to me."

"How so?" asked Lacus.

"It's the staging area," he said, "Zala's focused most of the buildup at Kaoshiung."

Shemei's eyes widened slightly. "Are you serious? If Panama's really the target, then staging from there would turn the whole operation into a disaster!"

"Forgive me," said Lacus, "but military strategy is not my area of expertise. What's wrong with the Kaoshiung spaceport? Is it vulnerable to attack?"

"No, we've pushed the East Asian forces too far into the interior for them to threaten the spaceport," Eric replied, "but if the assault force launches from there, the Atlantic Federation's Pearl Harbor base lies directly between them and Panama."

He was about to continue when the butler came out with the tea. Lacus thanked him as he set it down on the table. He nodded before heading back inside. The girl poured drinks for everyone, and after they had all had a few sips she spoke. "Is the Pearl Harbor base a particularly large one?"

"Yes," said Shemei, answering for Eric, "Pearl Harbor is the primary staging area for the Alliance's Pacific Fleet. If we traveled from Kaoshiung we would almost certainly wind up in a large scale naval battle before we got halfway to Panama. Even if our forces won the engagement, the odds would be good that they would be too badly damaged to continue on to their destination."

That makes sense, she thought, and I suppose it is quite obvious, too. However, that raises the question of why Zala has chosen to stage there. He did not become the head of the armed forces by being incompetent, after all. She took another sip of her tea before speaking again. "Do we not have another base that would be a better candidate as a staging area?"

Shemei nodded. "Yes, Carpentaria. It's far South enough that we would be able to completely bypass Pearl Harbor and the bulk of the Pacific Fleet. The largest force we could potentially encounter en route from there would be a patrol squadron at the most."

There was silence for a moment before Lacus spoke. "Is it possible that Panama is not the intended target of Operation Spitbreak?"

From the way the two officers' eyes widened, Lacus could see that the possibility had not occurred to them. They looked at each other for a moment before turning back to her. "That… could well be the case," said Eric. His brow furrowed in concentration as he analyzed the new possible scenario.

"If that's the case," said Shemei, "then what would the target be? Is he planning to press deeper into the East Asian Federation, or head North and begin a landing operation on the Kamchatka Peninsula? I know the Eurasians have a combined naval and air base there; maybe he wants to capture it and sweep in on their territory from the East."

"I don't think so," said Eric, "the Eurasians would be caught off guard initially, but they'd regroup quickly enough, and then the assault would bog down." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "What if… Zala's planning to take on the Pacific Fleet? If he inflicted enough casualties on them and captured the base at Hawaii, that'd give us almost complete dominance over the Pacific Ocean."

"Would Zala offer the Alliance the chance to negotiate an end to the war if he achieved that kind of victory?" asked Lacus.

"Well…" said Shemei, uncharacteristically hesitant, "that's difficult to say. I would certainly expect an offer of peace talks from your father if such a victory occurred while he was still Chairman, but I'm not sure if the Alliance would take it. And considering that Zala will be in charge at the time of the offensive, I don't know how things will play out. It's pretty much an open secret that he loathes Naturals and wants to punish them dearly for Junius Seven. Even if he wipes out the Alliance's Pacific Fleet, he may not be satisfied."

The Valkyrie looked at Lacus, and the girl could see the concern in her silver eyes. "Lacus, I didn't want to say this to your father… but I'm afraid of just how far Zala will go. Not just against the Alliance, but Naturals in general. Defeating them militarily might not be enough for him."

Eric nodded, and as his gaze met Lacus' she could see a grim resignation in them. "I know it won't. You two haven't seen him the way I have at the staff meetings. The way he talks… I'm convinced he wants to completely subjugate them to the PLANTs… if not worse."

"What do you mean, Mr. Bristow?" asked Lacus.

He looked down, clearly uncomfortable. "Perhaps I shouldn't say… it's a grave accusation to make, especially against the head of the armed forces. I could be jumping to conclusions. In fact, I really hope I am."

"Eric," said Shemei softly, and Lacus was slightly surprised to see her put her hand on his arm. The girl knew that they were friends, going back since their days together at the ZAFT academy, but she wasn't aware of Commander Rehema holding any special affection for him beyond that. Perhaps they're feelings even she's not aware of, Lacus thought, I could be reading too much into such a simple gesture… but it feels like there might be more there on her part, maybe more than she realizes.

"Come on," Shemei continued, "tell us. Remember, this isn't the Defense Council. You can trust us."

The black-haired officer looked at his comrade for a moment before nodding. Turning back to Lacus, he spoke. "I suspect that Zala… may be planning to commit genocide."

The pink-haired songstress couldn't help but gasp. No… I cannot believe he would go so far… After a moment she spoke, slowly and carefully. "Do you… have evidence to support this?"

"Nothing concrete," said Eric, "however…"

"What is it, Eric?" said Shemei softly.

"The research teams… the ones that came up with the N-jammers," he said, "they're collaborating with the ZAFT Mobile Suit Research and Design Cooperative."

"What?" said Shemei, her eyes widening, "I haven't heard anything about that, and I've been in contact with my friends within that organization."

"It's very hush-hush," said Eric, "Only the most senior staff members know about it. I know which friends you're referring to, Shemei. They're important members of the design teams, but they're also only mid-level. They wouldn't know about that detail. Anyway, I suspect that Zala is trying to find a way to create a device that would nullify the effects of the N-jammers… and mount such a device on the new mobile suits under development."

"Nuclear powered MS," said Shemei, her voice almost a whisper, "I never dreamed they'd be working on something like that. The girls and I have been flying sim programs for them, giving them flight data to work with for their program… if we'd known about this, we probably would've refused. A mobile suit with a nuclear reactor, immune to the N-jammers… from there it's only a short step away from full-scale nuclear weapons!"

"Mr. Bristow," said Lacus, "does my father know about this program?"

He nodded. "I managed to slip him some information on it yesterday. It wasn't much, but I was able to find data on the facility where one of the prototypes is being built. Do you want a copy?"

She shook her head. "No, I'll ask my father myself later. Do you know anything about the unit at the facility?"

"Only the designation," he sighed, "the ZGMF-X10A Freedom."

"An inspiring name," said Shemei, her voice tinged with sarcasm, "for a potential harbinger of Armageddon."

"Yes…" Lacus murmured. "Mr. Bristow, do you have any information regarding the other units?"

"Only that they are under construction as well," he said. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any data on where they are, how many are being built, what they're called, or anything else. I've had to limit my inquiries lately; Zala may be close to electoral triumph, but he's still as paranoid as ever. He's already increased the number of security staff at ZAFT HQ twice in the past month alone, and I'm sure he's made other arrangements as well. We're lucky the Military Intelligence agents he has shadowing your father don't consider you to be worth watching, along with the fact that they don't have this place under surveillance when Chairman Clyne isn't home. That's the only reason we're able to meet here like this, and I'm not sure how much longer we may be able to do so."

"I understand," said Lacus. She smiled at Eric. "I appreciate all the work you've done for my family, Mr. Bristow. I know it has put you in a dangerous position, and I apologize for that. We owe you a great deal."

"It's the least I can do," he replied, "I'll try to get information on any other new weapons in development, but I can't promise much."

"I'll do the same," said Shemei, "the girls and I may only be running test programs for the research teams, but I'm sure we can learn something about what they're building, or at least come up with a few theories."

"Thank you, both of you," said Lacus, bowing her head slightly. "Forgive the change in topic, but there is another matter that I desire information on, and I believe you two may be able to help me."

"Of course," said Eric, "what is it?"

"It concerns Miss Rehema, actually," said Lacus, turning to the Valkyrie. "I understand that you were in North Africa at the same time as the Archangel, and fought against the ship and its mobile suits twice. Did you by any chance speak to either of the pilots?"

Shemei smiled. "As a matter of fact, I actually met both of them when they came to Banadiya on a supply run."

The girl's eyes widened. "Really? You met Mr. Yuy and Mr. Yamato?"

She nodded. "Yes, and I must say, those two are quite interesting. On the one hand you have Kira, who just seems way too soft to be a mobile suit pilot, despite his skills in combat… and then you have Heero, who is perhaps the epitome of a professional soldier. They're both very unique individuals… and good people." Shemei sighed. "It's a shame we have to fight them."

"I thought you liked fighting Heero," said Eric, "from what I've seen, you look more alive since you ran into him than you have this entire war."

Shemei turned to him, and both he and Lacus were surprised to see a rather sad smile on her face. "It's true that he's the first person who's been able to challenge me in a long time, even beat me. Fighting him is the ultimate rush; I was exhilarated when I went up against him. When I met him in person, I got that same feeling just by looking in his eyes; they were calm, yet at the same time there was this intensity in them… but there was something else as well."

"Oh? What was it?" asked Lacus.

"Sorrow," she replied softly, "and pain… like there was something awful trapped inside him, tearing at his heart and mind. He's only sixteen, yet I think he's been fighting longer than either Bristow or myself… I can't imagine the horrors he's seen."

"Do you mean…" said Lacus, a sense of dread welling up inside her, "he was a child soldier?"

She slowly nodded. "Yes… I don't know when he first started fighting, but I can say this for certain; he was young, as in elementary school young. I can't say more than that… but I could tell just from his eyes that he had seen hell. He may be the best pilot of all time, but he had to witness the worst of what humanity had to offer in order to achieve that level of skill."

"Damn," said Eric, "a former child soldier…and from what Waltfeld and Aisha have told me, from another world as well…" He sighed. "You can't make this shit up…" He looked at Lacus. "Forgive the language, but I can't really think of any other way to put it."

"It's alright," said Lacus, "I feel the same way. Mr. Yuy has suffered a great deal… and I know Mr. Yamato is in pain as well. " She looked at the two soldiers. "Forgive me for not mentioning this sooner, but during my time aboard the Archangel I learned that Mr. Yamato's best friend was none other than Athrun Zala."

"What?" said Eric, eyes widening, "You mean the Strike's pilot and the Defense Chairman's son know each other?"

She nodded. "Yes… apparently they both attended prep school together on the moon. Mr. Yamato's family moved to Heliopolis while Athrun's came back to the PLANTs. The two met for the first time in two years during the attack on the colony."

"How awful," said Shemei, putting her hand to her mouth, "so in that last engagement, at Orb's border…"

"Kira and Athrun were fighting each other," Eric finished for her, "I know war is cruel, but this feels like a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare, damn it!"

"Yes," said Lacus softly, "I fear for how things will ultimately end between them…"

The three of them were silent for a moment. Then Eric looked at his watch and sighed. "Sorry, but I have to get going. My next staff meeting is in an hour and a half, and I need to get ready."

"Of course," said Lacus, standing up, "I'll walk you to the door. Miss Rehema, do you mind waiting here?"

"Actually," said the Valkyrie, standing up as well, "I need to get on the road too. I promised my parents I'd come by and have dinner with them, and I know they'll worry if I'm even a minute late." She smiled slightly. "Military families; we can be so picky about punctuality some times. It doesn't matter that they've had civilian jobs since moving here, some habits just don't die."

"Please send them my regards," said Lacus as the three of them made their way to the back door.

Shemei nodded. "I will."

They entered the house and headed through a large, well furnished living room, then down a spacious hallway towards the front door. Lacus opened it for them as they stepped out and bid her farewell.

"Please be careful, you two," she said, "though you may not be on the battlefield right now, I fear the PLANTs may soon become as dangerous for us as any combat zone."

"We will," said Shemei, "please, give your father my best."

"Mine as well," said Eric.

"I will," she replied, "take care."

….

"Eric," said Shemei softly as they walked towards their vehicles.

"What is it, Shemei?" he asked her.

She looked at her friend, an artificial breeze tousling his black hair as he turned to her as well. Of all of us, Shemei thought, Waltfeld, Aisha, the girls, myself… his is the most dangerous position. He's our only ally that has direct access to Zala other than Chairman Clyne, which means that he's also the only one of us that must bear his paranoia in person. If it's discovered that he's slipping us information…

She surprised him, and herself, by grabbing his hand. They'd been friends for nearly six years now, but they had never been much for physical contact between them beyond the occasional hug. What she was doing now was a completely new step, one that definitely caught the two of them off guard.

Shemei filed away her curiosity at her own actions for a later date. Looking her friend in the eyes, she spoke. "Lacus was right. What you're doing for us… it's extremely dangerous. I know you don't need me to tell you that, but still…"

"I know," he replied, and she could see a hint of weariness in his brown eyes, "I feel like I'm constantly walking a tightrope and there's no safety net if I slip up. The minutes feel like hours, hours like days… but it has to be done. If my suspicions are right, and Zala's making preparations for a campaign of genocide, then we need as much information as possible so we can stop him."

Shemei saw a glint in his eyes, a small yet intense flame… the fire of his determination. "They say history repeats itself," he said, "but I think that's only because people don't try hard enough to stop it. I've done my share of reading, Shemei, and the road we're on bears a disturbing amount of similarities to that of the Third Reich as it approached the height of its power… and we all know what happened next. I will not allow our people to become accessories to what could possibly become the biggest campaign of mass-murder in human history!"

Shemei's eyes widened slightly. This passion… he's usually so calm and relaxed, like Waltfeld… I don't think I've ever seen him like this! She couldn't help but smile slightly. He's determined to stick things out, to do all he can… I'll give him as much support as I can.

"Alright," she said, "but please… be careful. I almost lost Aisha and Waltfeld… I guess that was a reminder of our own mortality. Hell, I know you told me how relieved you were when you learned that they were alive." She sighed. "Those of us who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think we're invincible… that's a mistake we can't afford to make."

She gripped his hand a little tighter. "I don't want to lose any of my friends... anyone I care about… so watch your back, you got that? If you think things are about to go south, get out immediately. Call us; we're behind you all the way."

Eric smiled, and Shemei felt a little reassured. He's always had a way of doing that with that smile of his…

"I will," he said, "and you take care as well, alright? You're not as high up as I am, but unlike me you're on Zala's shit list. You stole the limelight from Creuset with your performance against Wing Zero, and you're parents are Naturals… that's two strikes against you in his book. I don't know if he's taken the girls into consideration, but it might not be long before he has Military Intelligence start shadowing you… and your family."

"I know," she replied, "I don't suppose you can give me a heads up if he decides to do that, can you?"

"I'll do my best," said Eric, "one of the few things we have going for us is the Secret Service's rivalry with Military Intelligence. Their Director may not be on our side, but he's not on Zala's either, so I'm getting a lot of cooperation from his agents. If Zala has you put under surveillance, I'll find out pretty quickly. Don't worry; I've got your back."

"Thanks," she said.

They approached their vehicles; Shemei had her jeep, while Eric had a black convertible. Before he could open the door to his car, Shemei put a hand on his shoulder. As he turned to her she pulled him into a hug.

"Shemei?" he said, slightly surprised.

"Don't do anything reckless, alright?" she said, so softly it was almost a whisper.

"Alright," he said, putting his arms around her as he did so.

They held each other for a minute before letting go. Then they smiled, nodded, and went to their vehicles.

What's gotten into me?, she thought as she hopped into her jeep. There was something different about the way she was seeing Eric now, and as she keyed the ignition she realized that it had been that way since she'd gotten back to the PLANTs. Despite the increased stress that his new positions was clearly putting on him, he also seemed more… focused, resolved. While field command was where she knew he felt at home, he seemed to have a new sense of purpose and conviction within him as he played his dangerous games within the shifting balance of power. Shemei almost felt drawn to him, in a way she'd never felt about him before.

I don't know what these feelings are, she mused as she drove towards the main road, but I do know this; I won't let Eric fight this battle alone. My specialty may be mobile suit combat, but I can still find a way to help him in a fight like this!

….

"Oh, man," said Nicole, "this is amazing!"

Athrun nodded in agreement. "Yeah, this is really something."

It had been a week since his conversation with his father, and the Vosgulov-class submarine/carrier Cousteau had arrived at Carpentaria earlier that morning to pickup his team. It was now early evening, and Athrun and his friend were out on the top deck of the vessel as it cruised on the surface. The sun was setting in the west, and both the water and sky were awash with an orange glow.

You don't get this kind of view up in the PLANTs, thought Athrun, a small smile on his face, there's just only so much you can do with artificial lighting. Colony engineers had found ways to imitate the transition from day to night by slowing dimming the main lights, along with installing special color lenses in specific arrays. While the displays were quite lovely, they just couldn't match the dazzling vistas provided by Mother Nature.

However, even something as soothing and beautiful as an ocean sunset couldn't quite dispel the worry in his heart. He and his team had spent most of the day with the detachment from Military Intelligence, going over their insertion plan for the next day when they would begin their infiltration of Orb. They had spent hours both above and below deck, going over their covers, how to act when approached by civilians and government personnel, how to quickly set up and properly operate their zodiac inflatable boat… the list went on. It had essentially been a crash course in espionage work, and the experience had left Athrun with mixed impressions.

On the one hand, he was certainly grateful for the instruction he had received, and had done his best to memorize everything he could. Operating the zodiac in particular had proven to be surprisingly challenging. Their academy training had focused on space combat, so to say their skills in using watercraft were lacking would be an understatement. Even with the improved strength and reflexes that came with being a Coordinator, the four young soldiers had been unprepared for their first practice run in the small boat. Maintaining their heading amidst the waves had been more difficult than they had first thought, and the unexpected gusts had made things even worse. Still, the boys had eventually gotten the hang of it, and Athrun had even felt a small surge of pride when their instructor had praised him as the best of the four at operating the zodiac. The young man had noticed Yzak scowl at that remark, but had just shrugged it off, having come to expect those kinds of reactions from the prideful pilot.

On the other hand, there had been something about the Intelligence operatives themselves that had rubbed Athrun the wrong way. He couldn't help but notice how disdainful they appeared to be of Naturals, and felt that, despite their greater expertise in the field of espionage than his, they were underestimating Orb. In fact, as Athrun thought about it, he realized that it went past mere contempt, at that several of them seemed to have nothing but hatred for Naturals, though it had been difficult to make out at first behind their cool, professional demeanors. He'd heard rumors that many members of Military Intelligence were more in favor of his father's hardliner stance than with the Supreme Chairman's desire for a peaceful resolution to the conflict, and that the Defense Chairman and the agency director shared the same views, but today had been the first time he's seen evidence of it for himself. It was disturbing to say the least, especially since he kept finding his mind wondering to the Natural girl he's spent the night with on that island three and a half weeks ago. Cagalli… it's true that she fought against us, but she's not a bad person. I never imagined that she would be Orb nobility… Whenever the operatives had mentioned Naturals, images of the girl would flash through his mind, and the young man had found himself dreading what people like the Intelligence agents would do to someone like her if they had captured her in a mission. Father…are these really the kind of people you've allied yourself with? What will you do when you assume power? What will your followers do?

"Yo, Athrun," said Nicole, "you alright?"

His friend's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up from where he was sitting and nodded. "I'm fine," he replied, "just thinking about the mission tomorrow."

The green haired boy nodded. "I know what you mean… I gotta admit, I'm a little nervous."

Athrun gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. Just stick with me, and remember what the instructors told us. Besides, we're just looking around; we're not going there to pick a fight."

"Yeah, you're right," said Nicole, smiling slightly, "I wonder what Orb's like… I mean, it's one thing to read about a place, but another entirely to see it in person. I know all our studying back in the PLANTs didn't prepare me for when we finally came down to Earth."

"That's true," said Athrun, "but the knowledge we gained during our studies wasn't useless, either. We just had to figure out which lessons worked, which didn't, and how to adapt as necessary. I'm sure we'll be able to do the same in Orb."

"Man," Nicole replied, "I wish I had your confidence."

Confidence?, thought Athrun, Is that what he sees in me? Truth be told, the young man had his own doubts, and it was all he could to keep them hidden from his comrades. Confidence was really the last thing he felt at the moment.

If the legged ship's still in Orb… then that means Kira is too. What will happen if we run into each other? And what about Cagalli? What happens if I encounter her as well? These questions and plenty others had been whirling through his mind since his conversation with his father nearly a week ago, and he could not find answers to them to save his life. The only reason he was able to maintain his composure-such as it was-was by reminding himself of his duties as a team leader; to watch out for his comrades, and do all he could to carry out his orders.

He let on to none of these doubts as he smiled at his friend. "I wouldn't go that far. I think I'm just a little relieved that this isn't a combat operation. It's true that we're not trained for this sort of mission, but we've been given all the information we need to slip in to Orb cleanly, and like I said earlier we won't be there for a confrontation. Our lives will only be on the line if we do something to blow our cover; as long as we're mindful of what we say and who's around when we say it, I think we'll be ok."

"I hope Yzak and Dearka will keep that in mind," said Nicole, turning back to look out at the sunset.

Athrun nodded. "I think they'll be alright. I know we've had some friction recently, but they're still soldiers of ZAFT, like us. They'll do their duty and follow orders… especially since this mission was given to us by the Defense Chairman himself."

"Yeah, you're right," said Nicole, "hey, you think we'll finally we'll finally get a glimpse of the pilots of the Strike and Wing Zero?"

Athrun was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. After a few seconds he replied, "Maybe. I guess it's a possibility."

One I hope to avoid…

….

"Ready when you are," said Murrue, smiling.

Heero nodded, giving her a small one of his own. Why did I suggest this again?, he thought. They were out on the top deck of the Archangel. The two of them had just eaten dinner a little while ago when Heero had decided to head topside for a practice session with his sword. It was something he had taken to doing over the past few weeks as a means to keep himself sharp; he didn't want the time spent waiting for the ship's repairs to be completed to dull his reflexes. He'd done it by himself until now, but for some reason he had wanted Murrue to watch him today. Heero had told her that he wanted her to observe and tell him if she saw anything he needed to work on, but that reasoning seemed to ring hollow in his head. I know she's not a fencer, he thought, nor does she have any experience with any kind of blade combat. While I'm sure her eyes are sharp enough to pick out some things I could do better, it's not like it would be a critique from a professional swordfighter.

His smile turned into a slight smirk when he realized what his real reason was. I want to show off for her! I want to impress her… man, what has gotten into me? The young man knew in his mind that she was already impressed with his fighting abilities, and that he didn't need to go out of his way to prove himself… but for some reason his instincts were telling him that it would be a good idea to do this anyway. He didn't know why; he wasn't vain, and he didn't particularly like showing off his skills just for fun, but he had a feeling that she might appreciate it.

Heero remembered what Murrue had said at the start of their date three weeks ago; "you should have a little more pride in your abilities." He wondered if what he was about to do would be an appropriate display of that pride, or if it would be a meaningless show. No, he thought, she seemed happy when I suggested this… I don't think it's wrong. The young man had been slightly surprised to find just how important Murrue's happiness had become to him in the time that he had known her. Is that part of what it means to fall in love with someone? I mean, I want her to be safe, and I certainly want her to be happy… but I never thought I'd be willing to do so much for one person's feelings.

It was certainly something new for him, but he didn't particularly mind it. In fact, he was beginning to realize that whenever Murrue seemed to be happy, his own spirits rose a bit as well. It's her smile, he thought, I've never seen one so beautiful…

Taking a deep breath to center himself, he gave his one-woman audience a small nod, and then closed his eyes. Alright, let's do this.

Opening his eyes, he swiftly raised the blade in a salute, followed by a quick x-flourish. Then he brought the saber into a mid-level guard position, stood still for a moment… and cut loose.

Sword fighting wasn't new to Heero. He had participated in fencing matches before during his time on Earth in the Eve Wars, and mobile suit beam saber combat certainly didn't hurt his skills in that area. He didn't have the same fluid grace as a professional fencer, but he was quick and efficient. Leading with a series of thrusts, he then swiftly pulled back and began performing parries against his imagined opponent.

After moving backwards a few steps and completing a series of blocks, he suddenly moved forward again, making several cuts towards where his foe's legs would be in rapid succession. Then he swung his saber upwards, pulled back, and then spun around as he launched a horizontal slash, adding centrifugal force to the attack.

As he completed the strike, Heero leapt backwards, performing a one-handed back handspring. As he landed on his feet he thrust the blade forward again, initiating a series swift strikes at his perceived foe's chest.

As he continued the exercise, Heero felt the moves become more and more instinctive, more natural. The Gundam pilot did not need to devote as much mental focus into his swordplay as he had when he'd first started out. I know beam saber combat is basically sword fighting on a larger scale, he thought, smirking slightly, but that doesn't mean a skilled mobile suit pilot can effortlessly transfer those abilities into that of a fencer's. The fact that I'm devoting less and less thought to my moves means I'm definitely getting better at this. He'd already known that he was good, and had even practiced fencing a bit before the start of Operation Meteor both as a means to refine his reflexes and because it was a required sport for the boys at the St. Gabriel Institute, where he would be attending classes as part of his first cover, but he hadn't devoted as much energy to it as he had over the past three weeks.

Pulling back again, starting another sequence of blocks and parries, he found that the moves actually had a soothing effect on him, like a form of meditation in motion. Even the presence of his beautiful audience of one didn't disturb him like he'd thought it might. It's Murrue, I shouldn't be nervous, he thought, but still... I actually was when I proposed this, just like when I asked her out. Could that be further evidence that my feelings for her have become more romantic?

Putting himself back on the offensive, he turned to briefly look at Murrue as he began a sequence of mid-level cuts and slashes. She was smiling, her brown eyes wide with wonder, and Heero felt his confidence soar. That smile… that's all I need to see!

Their eyes met for an instant, and he gave her a small smile of his own before turning back to his swordplay. He increased his speed, and as he continued his attack sequence Heero felt as though the saber had a mind of its own as his instincts and reflexes became more and more refined until it seemed to him that he was hardly thinking about his actions at all. They just seemed to flow together, like whenever he fought in a mobile suit duel. He was still focused, but it was less mental and more natural, like he was honing his entire body to be nothing more but a vessel that allowed the blade to smoothly transition from one move to the next.

Heero lost track of time as he continued with the exercise. Eventually he just felt himself winding down on his own, without really planning to. When he finally came to a stop, he sheathed his saber and looked over at Murrue.

Once again she was smiling, and she started clapping as he walked over to her. "Heero," she said, "that was amazing!"

His eyes widened slightly, and he once again felt a surge of warmth to his face. She's the only person that can make you feel this way, he thought, is that another bit of proof that you're falling for her?

"You think so?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, definitely! I know you asked me to observe so I could point out any mistakes… but if there were any, I didn't see them."

"Oh," said Heero, "well, I still appreciate you coming out here. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said, "now, do you want to head over to the officer's lounge? It'd probably feel good to relax a little after a workout like that."

He gave her a small smile. "Yeah, that'd be nice. I could use a drink, too. Let me put the sword away first."

She nodded, and the two of them made their way back inside the Archangel. As they walked through the hallways, Heero found himself thinking about the past few weeks. All this time I've spent with her… it's been incredible! That date, the subsequent outings... even the afternoons and evenings we've just spent hanging out on the ship have been a whole new experience. I've never felt so relaxed, at ease with someone. It's true that I get a little nervous when I first suggest something to her, or when I ask a question that might be sensitive, but she always manages to be so reassuring that my doubts just seem to wash away.

Is this… really love?

….

"I can't wait," said Tolle, "only three days left!"

Kira raised his eyebrow. "Three days until what, Tolle?"

The two boys were down in the hangar. Kira was running some checks on the Strike while Tolle stood outside the cockpit leaning against the machine's armor.

"Until our parents can come by here!" said Tolle, "Jeez, don't tell me you forgot again! I swear, I've been telling you that every other day."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "I've just been so busy with Morgenroete and all…"

"Ah, don't worry about it," his friend replied. They were quiet for a moment, and then Tolle spoke again. "How's Flay reacted?"

Kira looked up. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well," said Tolle, "her mother died when she was young, and now her father's gone too… that can't be easy on her, knowing that all of us will be seeing our families soon but she won't be able to."

He's right, thought Kira, damn it, how did I not realize that? Now that it had his attention, he recalled that she had seemed somewhat… off after Captain Ramius had given him the news. He had just met Flay outside the ship after he had come back from Morgenroete, and they were making their way up the gangway when they saw her standing in the hatchway. She'd smiled when she'd said that his parents would be able to come by the following week, and he'd done the same, although there had also been a small doubt in the back of his mind. He'd never thought about it until the attack on Heliopolis, but since he and his friends had been thrust into the war he's started wondering why his parents had chosen to make him a Coordinator… and how they'd react if he asked them that. While he had been pondering the news, he had been dimly aware of Flay stiffening slightly at his side, but he hadn't paid it too much attention.

Should I ask her if anything's wrong?, he thought. It might be delayed, but it would still be better than nothing. Then again, she hadn't said anything about the matter to him, so maybe it wasn't his business.

His line of thought was derailed when Tolle spoke again. "Well, I guess if something was up she'd have said something to ya by now, so I guess I shouldn't worry too much about it. By the way, isn't it strange how long the repairs are taking?"

"What do you mean?" asked Kira, "We did take some heavy hits in that battle, remember? The engines got damaged pretty badly, and they're some of the most complicated pieces of machinery on the Archangel."

"I know that," Tolle replied, "but still, with all the mechanical crews Morgenroete has working on the ship, you would think they'd be done by now."

"Hmm," said Kira, thinking about it. After a moment he spoke. "Maybe Orb's having them take things slow so they can have me spend more time working for Morgenroete. I know I'm done with the baseline O.S. I've been building for them, but Miss Simmons keeps throwing more stuff at me. Simulations in various environments, reaction and mobility tests, sensor and gyro calibrations… I almost feel like I'm back in Professor Kato's lab again!"

"Ah, Kato," said Tolle, and Kira could hear a bit of wistfulness in his voice, "just thinking about him take me back to the good old days back in the colony…"

The good old days, thought Kira, yeah… when we weren't at war, when I was on good terms with Sai, when we all had normal family lives… that feels like a lifetime ago.

"Hey, Kira," said Tolle softly, "come back to us."

"Huh?" he said, confused, "What do you mean?"

"To your friends," Tolle replied, "ever since North Africa, you've been spending almost all your time either with the Strike, with Flay, or by yourself. Miriallia, Kuzzey, myself… we miss you. Heck, even Sai feels the same way, even if he won't say anything. I know he's still sore over Flay, but he doesn't hate you for it."

The young man poked his head inside the Strike's cockpit. "Stop working and come to the mess with me, alright? The rest of the gang is probably about to sit down to dinner." He smiled. "Come eat with us, alright buddy?"

He's right, thought Kira, his eyes widening, I have been avoiding them… Tolle, Miriallia, Kuzzey, Sai… they're my friends! Why have I been treating them like this? It's true things have changed since Heliopolis… but that's why we should stick together now more than ever, not drift apart! I need to reconnect… and try to patch things up with Sai.

Kira smiled and powered down the Strike. "Alright," he said as he stepped out of the cockpit, closing the hatch, "let's go."

His friend smiled. "Alright, now that's the Kira I know! I'll lead the way."

….

As they walked into the mess hall and grabbed their food, Kira saw his friends sitting at a table by the window. They were all talking, laughing, and overall seemed to be in a good mood. He briefly wondered where Flay was before deciding not to worry about. She's probably cleaning… since she has no combat capabilities and no bridge post, I know she's been helping with the laundry and other things like that on the ship.

The two of them walked over to the table, and Sai, Miriallia, and Kuzzey all looked up as they approached. Tolle's girlfriend immediately smiled, Kuzzey waved, and even Sai gave a welcoming nod, no obvious sign of bitterness on his face.

As they sat down, Kira looked over at Sai. He was nervous, but didn't want to put this off any longer than he had to. "Listen, Sai…" he began.

However, the blond haired young man cut him off. "Look Kira," he said, and the Coordinator was surprised to see a small smile on his face, "I know things have been rough between us, but I've had some time to think over the past few weeks… and whatever happened between you and Flay, I know now that it was her decision when she left me. You didn't force her; you're not that kind of guy. I still don't know why she did it, and I'll admit I'm still a little mad at you too… but I still want to be friends. After all, considering our situation, we need to stick together more than ever now."

"Sai…" said Kira, his eyes widening.

His old friend chuckled a bit. "Caught you off guard there, eh?" He smiled again and held out his hand. "How about we cut this avoiding-each-other thing out, it's not very mature of us."

Kira couldn't help but return the smile as he shook Sai's hand. "Yeah… thanks Sai."

"No problem," he said, "that's what friends are for, right?"

….

"Damn, it's cold," hissed Dearka, "did we have to launch so early?"

The zodiac was speeding away from the Cousteau, rolling over the waves as it made its way towards Orb's territory. It was a little past four in the morning, so the sun hadn't even begun to rise yet, and the spray from the boat hitting the waves only made the already considerable chilly temperature worse.

At the rear of the watercraft, manning the engine and steering, Athrun sighed. "We need the cover of darkness if we're going to infiltrate successfully. Also, the morning fog will conceal us when the sun begins to rise, so we'll be well hidden on our trip to the island."

"I just hope out Intelligence contact will be at the rendezvous point on time," said Nicole, "he's supposed to have our ground transportation there after all; we wouldn't be able to accomplish very much if we had to walk all over the island."

"Yeah," grumbled Yzak, "if he's not there, then I'm going to raise some hell when we get back. We're ZAFT's best soldiers; we deserve nothing less than the best support."

Damn it, Yzak, thought Athrun, could you rein your ego in for at least this mission? If his white haired comrade allowed his arrogance to influence him when they made landfall and eventually came into contact with Orb's populace, their covers would risk being exposed.

He looked back towards their submarine-carrier and saw that it was already diving. I hope we'll be able to find it alright on our return trip.

The concerns regarding their carrier paled in comparison to the young man's other fears. Kira, thought Athrun as he looked forward again, will we meet again today? How will you react… and what will the others do when they learn that you're the Strike's pilot?

….

"Well, I must say, this isn't like you, Defense Chairman. Calling at this hour; I would've thought you'd still be asleep."

It was five in the morning at the Kaoshiung spaceport. Having just arrived yesterday, Commander Rau Le Creuset had yet to fully unpack, so most of his belongings were in a suitcase next to his bed. The masked officer was wearing a white bathrobe, and his long blonde hair was a bit untidy, evidence that he had just been woken up.

The black haired man on the computer screen nodded. "I would be, but I wanted an update on the preparations for Spitbreak, and the predawn hours are about the only free time I have available nowadays."

Creuset smirked slightly. "You're busier campaigning than you ever were as just Defense Chairman, sir."

Patrick Zala smiled. "Yes, and soon all this work will pay off. Our victory is close at hand, and not just in Aprilius One. We will take the majority of the Supreme Council and the local Colony Councils as well, I'm sure of it. We are ascending, and no one can stop us! Soon House Clyne will fall. Siegel will be broken, and my family will claim not only his power but his daughter as a trophy."

"I hope you don't say that in front of Miss Clyne," Creuset chuckled, "after all, you need her marriage to Athrun to go smoothly if you're going to get the best possible press coverage and morale boost."

"Rau, you mock me," said Zala, laughing, "You know I would never do anything so crass and amateurish."

"Just a friendly reminder, Defense Chairman," replied Creuset.

"Of course," said Zala, "I'll be careful." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Now, about the assault preparations?"

Creuset sat up a little straighter in his chair. "Sir, the Everest-class Flying Fortress Fuji is completely assembled and currently undergoing flight trials. The Kilimanjaro will be ready to join her in two days. Our naval buildup is proceeding on schedule as well, and the ground assault forces are currently at seventy percent."

"Excellent," said Zala, smiling, "and the Special Operations Squadrons?"

"Rot and Grün teams have arrived," said Creuset, "and have been outfitted with the DINN Mk. IIs. Schwarze is taking their sweet time, though. I believe they took a detour to the Taklamakan Desert to score a few more kills; the East Asian forces are using it as a staging area for their hit-and-run raids on our armies in the interior. I contacted them, but their Commander refuses to acknowledge transmissions from Kaoshiung at this time; no doubt he's enjoying himself out there right now. Perhaps you could contact him?"

"I'll do so at once," said Zala, frowning slightly, "damn, I would've hoped that promotion to Special Operations would make Zubov at bit more respectful of his superiors; he does share our ideals, after all. Don't worry, Commander, I'll bring that brigand back into line."

"I appreciate that, sir," said Creuset, nodding, "Zubov is a skilled pilot, but he cares little for tactics and grand strategy. He cares only for battle. A useful tool, but one I will freely admit having difficulty controlling. My past work experiences with the man have not been pleasant."

"I know," Zala replied, "I've read his file. I still have trouble believing that a fellow Coordinator could be so disrespectful towards his superiors. However, his enthusiasm for fighting the Naturals is what matters, not his manners."

You mean his enthusiasm for killing them, thought Creuset with amusement, I'm well aware of what took place in the former Sri Lanka, along with similar… 'excesses' both on the surface and in space. Gunning down soldiers who've surrendered, destroying escape pods and unarmed shuttles… not to mention his part in the China campaign. Schwarze Team went on a bloody rampage once they got far enough away from Field Marshal Bristow. They razed Yinchuan to the ground and all but annihilated Xining before they were finally repulsed by five full East Asian Federation fighter wings. I seem to recall a rumor that one of the reasons you removed Bristow from the field and brought him to the Defense Council was so you could swamp him with paperwork and keep him too busy to conduct a proper war crimes investigation like he wanted to. What was Schwarze Team's final death toll again? Not counting enemy combatants, I believe it was somewhere between four to five million civilians… impressive for an eight man team supported only by their transport unit and a few vanguard brigades with commanders who had similar leanings to Zubov.

Turning his focus back to his superior, he spoke. "Hopefully he'll restrain himself until Spitbreak begins."

"I'll make sure that he does," said Zala, "Zubov knows full well that I can pull him from surface operations at any time, and he's having too much fun down there to want to come back to space."

"I'll leave that to you, then," said Creuset, "Is there anything else you needed to discuss, sir?"

"No, that will be all," he replied, and the screen went black.

Good timing, thought Creuset as he looked down at his left arm… his trembling left arm. Acting quickly before the tremors could spread, the Commander rushed to his washroom and threw open the medicine cabinet. He snatched a blue container and opened it before tilting it back and popping a few pills. After a few seconds his arm stopped shaking. Creuset sighed in relief. That was too close.

He left the washroom, setting the container of pills on his desk. I should keep these with me today, he thought, just in case it is getting worse…

Now is not the time for you to fail, my mortal shell. My plans will soon bear fruit, and I intend to witness to their bursting…

….

Above the sands of the Taklamakan Desert a fierce battle was raging. Soaring through the sky like the reapers they were, eight black and grey DINNs were savaging their foes, a swarm of twenty four delta-winged East Asian Federation J-45 Interceptors. Manufactured in China, the single-seat fighters were armed with two thirty millimeter machine guns and eight XMAA missiles each, a formidable arsenal by conventional standards… and utterly impotent against the demons that were ripping them to shreds.

While ZAFT's mainline air-combat mobile suit was not faster than any Alliance fighter jet, it was far more maneuverable, and the enhanced reflexes and calculation times of their pilots meant that they could more often than not simply shoot down most missiles fired at them, leaving the only recourse for most Alliance pilots to fire them en masse and pray that a few managed to get through.

However, Dominic Zubov and the rest of Schwarze Team never gave their foes the opportunity. They had launched their own missile volley at the start of their surprise attack on the East Asian forces, scattering their originally thirty-six plane formation. From there it had become a simple matter to hunt them down one by one. The mobile suits' distinctive paint job did not hurt matters, as it had become one that the Alliance forces had come to dread seeing on the battlefield.

In the cockpit of his machine, Commander Zubov cackled like a madman. "Yes, yes, yes!" he yelled over the radio, "Do as you do best, my friends! Hunt them all down, and remember our golden rule; leave none alive!"

He gunned his engines and sighted in on a fighter, quickly perforating it with his rifle. His cruel smile turned into a sneer as he saw the enemy pilot eject. "Did I say you could bail out?" he snarled, "No, I don't think I did!"

He aimed his weapon and fired. A single heavy machine gun round turned the helpless pilot into little more than red mist and a few chunks of flesh and bone. Zubov laughed maniacally as some of it hit his DINN. "Thank you for the souvenir, you Natural rat! Fear not, for soon the rest of your brothers and sisters will join you in the afterlife."

Whirling as missile lock alarms went off, he fired off a volley of his own before his foes could launch theirs. Three planes exploded, and the sadistic Commander gained altitude as he searched for more prey.

A Second Generation Coordinator, the twenty-nine year old man hardly fit the stereotypical image of a ZAFT mobile suit pilot. Tall and somewhat lanky, Dominic Zubov had curly black hair that never failed to look disheveled, a face that was pockmarked and scarred from years of vicious barroom brawls, and a mustache that led many to believe on first impression that he was a porn star that had gotten on the wrong end of several switch-blades. The perpetual sneer on his face never helped matters. His eyes were a shade of blue so pale that they were often mistaken as white, and lent the man an aura that was almost demonic… a trait that he had happily embraced.

Born in the PLANT capital of Aprilius One, Dominic had been raised in a household filled to the brim with hatred for the Naturals. His parents had originally live in Moscow, and for generations both of their families had served with pride in the Russian Army as far back as the Battle of Stalingrad. Attitudes in the newly formed Eurasian Federation's armed forces towards Coordinators were mixed, and unfortunately Zubov's parents had wound up under the jurisdiction of a General with not-so-secret ties to Blue Cosmos. The discrimination had started with a list of crap-assignments that ran a kilometer long and had escalated into a repeated string of demotions every time one of them had performed well enough to get promoted in the first place, resulting in both his mother and father never rising above the rank of Corporal despite their obvious talents. Eventually, in completely justified rage and indignation, Zubov's parents had resigned and immigrated to the PLANTs, and shortly afterward their son had been born.

However, his birth had not eased the growing feelings of resentment and hate that festered within his parents' hears, and he grew up listening to rants about the inferiority of Naturals. As a child Zubov had simply gone along with them, but hadn't started developing any major animosity of his own until the age of ten. Somehow, an agent of Blue-Cosmos had managed to sneak into the heart of the Coordinator homeland, and he had wasted no time in going on a shooting spree at a major grocery store. Five people had died before the gunman was taken down… including Zubov's father. From then on the hatred within his mother had been intensified, and the boy had quickly latched onto it. It hadn't helped that both he and his mother had been in the store at the time of the shooting, and had only escaped death by being on the opposite side of the building in the produce section, while the shooter had started firing in the bakery area where Mr. Zubov had been ordering a cake; his son's birthday had been three days away.

Shortly afterwards Dominic Zubov began developing an aggressive streak, often picking fights at school. As he grew older he knew that this was due to his pent up rage against the Naturals that had tormented his family, but up in space he had no socially acceptable outlet for it. After graduation he managed to put his anger and violent tendencies to somewhat legitimate use as a bouncer at a dingy third-rate nightclub tucked away in one of Aprilius One's backalleys, all the while yearning for a chance to make the Naturals pay. When ZAFT had been founded in 65 C.E., Zubov had jumped at the chance to become a soldier, and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he would get a shot at revenge. Cheered on by his mother, he pursued his military education with a single-minded obsession and ruthlessness. By the time hostilities had broken out in 70 C.E. he was a GINN pilot, and he wasted no time in laying waste to his enemies with a sadistic pleasure that would've made the SS proud.

Now, in the skies of the Far East, his hatred was manifest in the brutal squadron he had formed, every member with the same cruel and twisted view of the Naturals firmly set in their minds, merely waiting for a Commander to set them loose upon their prey. Zubov looked on with pleasure as his subordinates slaughtered the enemy, whittling their numbers down lower and lower. Diving back into the furball, the Commander took down another five machines, pausing to dispatch two ejecting pilots in the same manner as he had the previous one.

He grinned as the other black and grey machines streaked across the battlefield. I originally wanted black and red, he mused, but that Valkyrie bitch already has that color scheme. No matter; black and grey are now the colors the Naturals have associated with their doom… as well they should. Perhaps I'll have the tech crews paint grey death's heads on our machines when we return to base; I think it'd be a nice touch.

His communications console started beeping, and Zubov saw with annoyance that it was a Priority One frequency. "Zala," he grumbled, "What does he want?"

He pulled away from the engagement somewhat and hit a switch on the console. Sure enough, the Defense Chairman's face appeared on the screen. "Commander Zubov," he said, glaring, "I hear you've been ignoring orders again."

Dominic smiled. "Not at all, sir. Merely… delaying their implementation. You know how me and the boys get; we see the Natural scum mucking about and we just have to go take out the trash."

"Which you'll have plenty of time to do come Operation Spitbreak," Zala replied, "I've done you plenty of favors to keep you and your men away from the firing squad, Zubov. I tolerate your behavior on account of our common goals, but there's only so much even I will tolerate from you."

He's in a pretty foul mood, mused Dominic, guess I better play the good soldier, or he might actually confine us this time. "What are your orders, Defense Chairman?"

"Finish your battle and get your asses over to Carpentaria," said Zala, "I'm having eight DINN Mk IIs shipped there for your team; don't make me reassign them."

Zubov nearly started drooling at the mention of the new suits. Finally, an upgrade! Took you long enough, Zala! "Understood," he said, "anything else?"

"You will be operating under Commander Le Creuset," said Zala, his eyes narrowing even further than they already were, "I suggest you obey him this time; I'm giving him full discretion to shoot you the instant you get out of line this time, Zubov. Your enthusiasm has served you well in the past, but so help me if you do anything to jeopardize Operation Spitbreak I will gladly have you executed! Do not fail me." With that he signed off.

The leader of Schwarze Team gave a mocking salute. "Understood, Defense Chairman… and thank you." He quickly proceeded to rush back into the fight, joining his subordinates as they circled over the last few fighters like the vultures they were, shooting at will and taking no small amount of joy in watching the enemy pilots frantically try to dodge before inevitably succumbing to the fire.

"Naturals, your end is nigh!" he roared over an open channel as he rained death upon the stragglers, "You will all burn in the coming fires, and we, the Coordinators, the true rulers of the Earth Sphere, shall trample over your charred corpses!"

….

"Hey there," said the operative, "glad you guys made it through alright."

Athrun nodded as he checked to make sure the zodiac was properly camouflaged in the small inlet where they had met their contact. Dragged up onto shore, the watercraft was now stowed away amidst a series of bushes, green and brown netting with leaves tied to it pulled over it. "Thanks for being here on time," he replied, "Do you have our transport?"

"Yup," he said, "over this way." He led the young man and his friends through the brush a short ways until they came to a stretch of highway that was, thankfully, empty in the early morning hours. Sitting there was a green jeep and a blue sedan. A man in a black jumpsuit was standing next to the later.

"That's my partner," the operative said as they walked over, "listen, drop the jeep off back here when you're done; we'll take care of the rest. Oh, and there's a GPS device in the glove compartment; you should have no problem finding all the Morgenroete buildings and Orb government facilities on this island. If the legged ship's here, your best chances for finding proof will be at one of those sites."

"Understood," said Athrun, "thanks."

"Good luck," said the operative as he climbed into the car with his partner. They drove off, leaving the Zala team standing by the jeep. Dressed in blue jumpsuits and green hats, they looked like nothing more than a group of mechanics heading off to work.

I hope that illusion holds, thought Athrun as he climbed into the driver's seat. He waited until the other three pilots had settled in. "Let's move," he said as he keyed the ignition.

….

"Hey, what's up?" said Cagalli as she poked her head into the M1's cockpit.

Kira looked up, startled. "Cagalli! Sorry, I didn't expect to see you here today."

She smiled. "Stop apologizing, Kira. I just decided to pop in, see how you were doing. Is it wrong to check up on a friend?"

Kira returned the smile. "No, uhm… I was just surprised, that's all."

"Nothing wrong with that," said Cagalli. Her eyes widened when she saw his pet robot bird on his shoulder. "Hey, what's Birdy doing here?"

Kira looked over at the green mechanical avian. "Well, he decided he wanted to come with me today. I'm not sure why, and I was afraid he might cause problems for Morgenroete's security staff, but they didn't seem to mind. In fact, Miss Simmons seemed to be quite interested in him."

"I can't blame her for that," said Cagalli, smiling, "he's quite the adorable little critter. Aren't you, Birdy?"

"Birdy!" said the avian in its typical high-pitched voice.

Kira turned back to the controls of the M1 for a moment before looking at Cagalli again. "By the way, do you have the time?"

"Hang on," she replied, pulling out her cell phone, "it's a little after ten. Why do you ask?"

"Do you think Miss Simmons would mind if I headed topside for a bit?" he asked, "I'd like some fresh air."

"Oh sure," said Cagalli, "I doubt she'd have a problem with that. Come on, let's head to the control room; I'll let her know you want a break."

She stood back as Kira climbed out of the cockpit, and they two of them made their way across the hangar and over to the service elevator. Birdy was still perched up his shoulder, looking around with what he assumed to be curiosity. I wish I knew what goes through that little guy's head, thought Kira.

The elevator ride was relatively quiet, and when the two of them entered the control room they saw Erica smile at them from her console. Cagalli explained the situation, and the Chief Engineer of Morgenroete smiled. "Go right ahead," she said, "Cagalli, do you mind heading up with him? I'll need you to escort him through the security checkpoints."

"Sure, no problem," the Orb princess replied. She turned to the Coordinator and smiled. "Well, let's go!"

Kira nodded and followed her out of the control room.

"See," said Cagalli as they made their way down the hallway and towards another elevator, "I told you she wouldn't mind."

"Yeah," he replied, "I guess you were right."

"You bet I was," she said, winking.

Kira smiled as they entered the elevator. I don't know why, he thought, but I just feel so at ease around her. Flay… she's been kinda tense lately. I probably ought to ask her about it later, but I'm not sure how she'll react. Cagalli, on the other had… I don't think she'd react badly to anything I asked her.

The rest of their journey up to the surface was relatively quiet, but neither of them really seemed to mind it. Kira took a deep breath as they stepped outside. "Ah," he said, "the fresh air feels great!"

"Yeah," said Cagalli, "I know what you mean."

Suddenly, Birdy gave a cry and took off. Kira's eyes widened as the bird flew towards the edge of the complex. "Hey, Birdy!" he cried, chasing after it.

….

"So, what makes you think we'll find the legged ship here?" said Yzak, "This place doesn't exactly look like a warship dock."

Athrun sighed. "I never said we'd find it here. I just thought we should check it out, since it's one of the Morgenroete facilities labeled on the GPS."

The Zala team was standing on the side of the road at the edge of a large complex. The area was fenced off, and the barrier was topped with barbed wire. The facility on the grounds didn't look like much, a few large warehouses and what looked like a small administrative office. I highly doubt the legged ship's here, thought Athrun, but there's always the chance that the Strike or Wing Zero could've been moved here. I know the Strike was co-developed by Orb, and there's definitely a chance that Wing Zero was as well. It can't hurt to at least take a look at all their facilities… even if we can't get inside.

Security at all the previous facilities had been very tight, and this one was no exception. Athrun had known that it was unlikely that they would be allowed inside any of Morgenroete's properties, but now it seemed like even sneaking in would prove to be impossible. How the hell are we supposed to accomplish our mission?

He was about to turn away when he heard the last sound he expected. It was high pitched and unmistakable.

"Birdy!"

No way, he thought,eyes widening before he could stop himself, it can't be!

Struggling to control himself, Athrun walked quickly over to the chain link fence… over which flew a familiar mechanical green bird. It landed gracefully in his outstretched hand and looked up at its creator.

"Birdy!" it cried again, hopping up and down in what he assumed to be joy at their unexpected reunion.

"Whoa, cool!" said Nicole as he and the others rushed over.

"Pretty neat," said Dearka.

Even Yzak was smiling. "Nice, a mechanical bird! I wonder where I can get something like this."

Athrun barely paid them any heed. If Birdy's here, then that must mean…

Before he could finish that thought, he heard a very familiar voice. "Hey, Birdy!"

Kira!

….

"Sorry," said Kira, turning to Cagalli as he ran, "I'll be right back!"

She nodded. "Alright, you better go catch him!"

He nodded back and returned his attention to Birdy, who had just flown over the fence. What's gotten into him? "Hey, Birdy!"

He slowed slightly when he saw that the robotic bird had apparently landed amidst a group of people on the other side of the fence. Good, he didn't go too far off. Then his eyes widened as one of the figures turned around, holding Birdy in his hand. No way…

Athrun!

….

Not good, thought Athrun, I knew this could happen, but still… I don't have a plan! What am I going to do?

Without thinking, the young man walked slowly towards the fence, the hand holding Birdy outstretched in front of him.

Fortunately, Kira didn't just blurt out Athrun's name like the ZAFT pilot had feared he would. His eyes were wide with surprise, but to his credit he didn't say anything that gave away the fact that they knew each other… probably because he was having a hard time trying to figure out what to say, period.

After a moment, Athrun held out his hand. "Is this yours?" he said.

Kira nodded and held out his hand. "Yeah," he said.

Athrun watched as Birdy hopped through one of the small holes in the chain link fence back over to Kira.

The two of them stood there for a few seconds, neither speaking. The rest of the Zala team looked on, none catching onto the tension that was in the air.

Kira was the first to speak up, and to Athrun's great relief he didn't say anything compromising. "Thank you," he said, nodding his head.

Athrun returned the gesture, somewhat stiffly. "Yeah… no problem."

He turned to go, but before he could start walking Kira spoke again. "An old friend… gave that to me."

Athrun looked over his shoulder. "Is that so?"

Kira nodded. "Yes… it's very precious to me. A very important gift… from a very important friend."

Their eyes met, and Athrun actually felt himself smiling a bit. Kira, he thought, after all this, you still think of me as a friend? Then again, I suppose you would. You were always the more sentimental one, and you wouldn't let even something like war come between us…

Can I… do the same? Kira… I want to believe that we can still be friends, but…

In the end, all he could do was nod. "I see. Farewell."

….

"Hey, Kira," said Cagalli, walking up behind him. She saw the young Coordinator turn towards her, holding Birdy in his hands. His eyes were a little wider than normal, and he looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Everything alright?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh… yeah, I'm fine," he said, a bit hesitantly.

Cagalli knew that wasn't completely true, but decided to let it go. If he doesn't want to talk about it, that's his call, she thought, thinking back on that time aboard the Archangel when she'd done her best to comfort him in the wake of the North African campaign, I just hope it's nothing too serious.

"Alright then," she said, "we should probably head back inside. I'll grab you some water from the cafeteria on the way down to the test hangar, ok?"

Kira smiled. "Sure. Thanks, Cagalli."

"No problem," she said as they headed back towards the building, "we're friends, remember? I don't mind grabbing you something to eat or drink."

"Right," he replied, "well, let's go."

As they headed back inside, Cagalli spared a glance over her shoulder at the group of four people standing on the other side of the fence. She couldn't make out any details from that distance though. I wonder who they are, she thought before she lost sight of them.

….

"Let's move on," said Athrun as the Zala team climbed back into the jeep.

"Are you sure?" asked Nicole.

He nodded. "Yeah… we're not going to be able to get in here, either. Let's check out the next facility on the list. We should be able to run through the rest of them by mid-afternoon at the latest. We'll head back to the ship after that."

The green haired young man nodded. Much to Athrun's relief, Yzak and Dearka didn't question his decision this time either.

It's really just a formality now, he thought as he started the vehicle up, checking the other facilities. We can't get in… but now I know… seeing Kira was all the proof I needed, though of course I can't tell the guys that.

He still needed to think up an excuse to give his comrades when the time came to order their withdrawal without them having spotted any obvious signs of the legged ship, but he wasn't too worried about it. Athrun's greatest fear had been running into Kira and having his friend blow his cover, but thankfully things hadn't gone down that way. Compared to that problem, bullshitting a reason to return to the Cousteau would be a cake walk.

There was only one thing bothering him now, and that was the identity of the pilot of Wing Zero. Other than the voice he'd heard during the battle at the border, the ZAFT ace knew nothing about him, and certainly had no visual evidence as to what he looked like. I have to admit, he thought as he moved the jeep out onto the main road, I'm a bit curious about that guy. A Natural with those piloting abilities… it's pretty frightening. I'd like to at least learn a bit about him before the next time we meet in combat. I guess it's normally better to not know the individual you're fighting, but in this case that anonymity somehow makes the guy even scarier. That voice sounded so cold, and not having a face to put with it makes it feel like I'm fighting a black hole, a force of nature… powerful and inescapable.

….

Night had fallen over the Kaoshiung spaceport. Most of the personnel save for the soldiers in charge of security had already turned in, but one officer was still awake. Sitting at the desk in his quarters, Rau le Creuset was on his computer. There were several images on the screen, overlaid against a map of the Earth Sphere.

The masked Commander looked from picture to picture, smiling as he did so. The pieces are moving into position, he thought, and most of their own accord, as well. How excellent; the less effort I have to exert, the better.

Zala and the radical faction, ZAFT's High Command, Operation Spitbreak, the Earth Alliance military… and the last pieces are falling into place even now.

He moved the mouse and exited out of all but four images. Three were over Orb; the legged ship, the Strike, and Wing Zero. They'll have to leave eventually, he thought, and I imagine it will be soon. I doubt Athrun will be able to stop them from making it to Alaska, even with Ofnir and Grabacr supporting him… but that's irrelevant now. With the information I sent him a week ago, the final player has at last begun stirring again. It won't be much longer before he moves into the spotlight…

He removed those three images, leaving just one left on the screen… over Washington D.C., the Atlantic Federation's capital. It was a picture of a blond haired man in an immaculate light blue suit.

Azrael, thought Creuset, his smile turning into a cruel grin, I'm so glad you've accepted my invitation to this performance. Truly, I cannot thank you enough.

Soon, the curtains will rise… on the massacre opera.

….

"Kira," said Flay, "what are you still doing here?"

It had been two days since the encounter with Athrun. Kira was back in his quarters, running over some things he would be working on for Morgenroete the following day on his computer.

He looked over at Flay. "What do you mean, Flay?"

Her eyes widened slightly. "Kira, you know what today is, don't you? Everyone's parents are at the dock. Sai's, Tolle's, Miriallia's, Kuzzey's… even yours. So why are you still here? You should go see them."

He sighed. "I know, but… I don't want too."

"What?" she said, "But… why?"

Why indeed. For the young man, it ultimately came down to the fact that they had made him a Coordinator. Kira still loved his parents, but whenever he thought about facing them after all that had happened since the attack on Heliopolis, and that he wouldn't have had to pilot the Strike had he been born a Natural. He had come to realize that he was worried about what he might say to them as a result of all he had been through… that he might somehow alienate himself from them. Kira wanted to know why they had made him a Coordinator… and yet, at the same time he was afraid of what their answer to that question might be.

It was difficult to put into words, but he decided to try nonetheless. However, before he even got the chance Flay was in his face… wearing a very surprising look. It was almost….accusatory.

"It's because you're feeling sorry for me, aren't you?" she said, and Kira was put off guard by how raised her voice had become.

"Flay…" he said, trying to get a word in, but she wouldn't let him.

"Don't be an idiot!" she yelled, "You're feeling sorry for me! Just because I don't have any family that's coming to see me!"

It was true that that thought had crossed his mind, but Kira's greater concern had been for his own relationship with his parents and the possibility of him damaging it.

However, Flay never gave him a chance to say that to her. "I'm sick of you always feeling sorry for me! I don't need your pity, you got that?"

Clearly something was wrong with the girl, but as he stood up to try and confront her about it she shoved him back down.

"You're the one who's pitiful!" she said, "Acting so scared just because you have to fight… you're the only pilot on this ship that cries when he has to kill someone! And you cry every time you can't protect someone too!"

She looked away for a moment, and it looked as though she was trying to hold back tears. "So… what right do you have… to pity me?"

Kira stood up again, this time in an attempt to comfort her, but once again she shoved him down.

"Stay away from me!" she said, and she ran out of the room.

All Kira could do was stay seated, completely shocked by what had just occurred. What the… what just happened?

….

Flay ran until she came to one of the ship's hatches before stopping to catch her breath. After a moment she stomped outside onto the Archangel's upper deck. The noise of the repair crews could be heard all around her, but at the moment she didn't give a damn.

That pathetic boy, she thought, he's just a tool; I don't need the pity of a damn tool!

However, those were only surface thoughts. What her outburst had really been about had less to do with the young Coordinator's attitude and more about her own… more specifically, the storm of conflicting emotions raging within her.

Flay was the kind of girl that was used to being in control. Manipulating people came naturally to her, and she had assumed it would always be that way. Kira had initially been no exception, and using him in her scheme had been made all the easier by the fact that she knew he had a crush on her.

But… ever since the events of North Africa, she had felt him begin to slip out of her control. She couldn't describe it, didn't know how it was happening, but somehow the young man was unconsciously beginning to work against her. That desert rat Cagalli had definitely been part of it, but Flay knew that there was more to it than that, and she didn't understand any of it.

Also, it was becoming more and more obvious to her that she was losing control of her own feelings regarding Kira. She had started their twisted relationship full of nothing but hatred and cruel intent towards him, but as time had passed and she had gotten to know him, another set of feelings were beginning to build within her. Slowly but surely she had begun to care about the tool of her revenge, and had started to see him as less of a freak of science and more as a scared, gentle young man who wanted to help the people he cared about. The simple selflessness Kira had within him had touched her in a manner she had never expected, and because of that… she had actually begun to like him.

"No," she snarled to herself, "I hate him, loath him… I can't be falling for that pathetic freak!"

She looked up at the ceiling. "I need to stay away from him for awhile," she said to herself, "Yes… I need some distance, some time to reform my plan, figure out how to get him back under my control."

She would move her stuff out of his quarters later; there were plenty of unused rooms on the ship, so she could use one of them for awhile. Or, she thought, perhaps I could room with Sai… I bet he'd take me back in a heartbeat. Maybe I'll approach him in a few days. Play the apologetic lover, coming back after being wronged by the Coordinator freak… yeah, that should work on him.

However, a small voice in the back of her head was whispering that it would not be enough, that something inside her had changed, and she couldn't undo it no matter how hard she tried. "Shut up," she snarled, "there's nothing in my heart for that boy other than hatred… both for him and the rest of his kind."

….

Looking on from the gangway, Murrue smiled as Tolle, Miriallia, Sai, and Kuzzey ran to their parents. The adults practically threw themselves at their children, taking them in what looked to be almost crushing embraces.

Watching them, she frowned as she remembered her conversation with Kira earlier. I can't believe he didn't want to see his family, she thought. The captain turned her attention towards an observation window off to the right side of the dock. Through it she saw Lord Uzumi standing with a man and a woman who had been introduced to her as Kira's mother and father. I thought for sure the prospect of seeing them again would make him smile, but if anything he seemed almost uncomfortable with the idea. Why?

She frowned as she tried to figure it out, but was stopped as she felt a hand gently take hers. Murrue looked over at the young man that had come out with her to greet the families, standing quietly to her left.

Heero's eyes met hers as he spoke. "I know what you're thinking," he said, "Kira didn't want to see his parents, and you're worried about it, right?"

She nodded and gave him a weak smile. "That obvious, huh?"

Heero nodded and returned the gesture. "Only because I've gotten to know you. Listen, there was nothing you could've done to convince him to come out here. Kira's made up his mind, and nothing you or I do will change it."

Murrue sighed. "I understand that… but I want to know why he won't see them. I could tell that they were worried about him, and this can't have made things any easier."

"I know," said Heero, "the best I can offer is that I think it has something to do with his experiences in piloting the Strike."

"That makes sense, I suppose," said Murrue, "He wouldn't have been able to do it if he weren't a Coordinator. Kira must've begun wondering why his parents chose to make him one… and he might be afraid to ask them, to confront them about it."

Heero nodded. "That's a good bet," he said.

"It's all my fault," Murrue said softly, "I shoved him into the Strike's cockpit during the attack… he took control of the machine to save his friends. After that… I couldn't just let them go; they had been exposed to top secret material. Things just got worse from there. I didn't want him to pilot it, but it was the only way we had a prayer of surviving. Now, because of my actions, a rift has developed between him and his family. I…"

"Stop," said Heero, and Murrue was surprised as he let go of her hand before grabbing her by her shoulders. No one was paying attention to the two of them as he turned her to face him.

Heero had her shoulders in a firm grip and didn't let go as he spoke. "Murrue," he said as their eyes met, "this is not your fault. It's true that the situation at Heliopolis was dire, but from what I've heard, after that first sortie Kira chose to keep piloting the Strike in order to protect his friends. His options may have been limited at the time, true, but that does not change the fact that you did not force him to fight after that first engagement; he made that decision. Hell, even in that first fight all you did was push him into the cockpit before getting in yourself; you took control of the machine, and only let him pilot it when he proved to be better suited to the task."

"But, Heero…" said Murrue, "…I was in charge of the ship. It was my responsibility to protect the civilians we had aboard. Kira was one of them, and I used him, used his abilities to pilot the Strike, to wield it against ZAFT! I should've been protecting him, he was a civilian, and instead I sent him right into the heart of the fighting!"

"No!" he said, raising his voice for the first time since the battle at Orb's border, "You're wrong, Murrue! If you had been using him, you would've taken his friends hostage and forced him to fight. You wouldn't have given him a choice in the matter, and you would've agreed to Badgiruel's scheme to make him stay aboard the ship rather than leave with the rest of the civilians when he had the opportunity. I remember that debriefing well; you stood up for Kira, defended all that he had done for the Archangel and his right to leave. You never forced him to fight, and you sure as hell didn't force him to stay; it was his choice, and no one else's."

Then Heero's facial expression softened and he gave her a small but reassuring smile. "Kira knew that there would be consequences for his decision to stay and continue piloting the Strike. Some he anticipated; others caught him off guard. His feelings regarding his parents are probably one of the later. They are his and his alone to deal with; there's nothing you or I can do about it."

"Heero…" she said softly, unable to form a complete sentence. His words hit her like nothing else could, and combined with his strong yet comforting grip they were enough for her to realize that he was right, and that nothing good would come from beating herself up like she had been doing.

Her guilt was replaced by a surge of gratitude for the young man in front of her. Heero, she thought, you've said in the past that I'm amazing, but I think that word is better suited for you.

She returned his smile. "Heero… thank you. You… are really something else."

His grip on her shoulders softened somewhat. "You're welcome, Murrue." Then he looked at her and she saw his eyes widen as he realized just how they looked together, and let go altogether. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to be so rough or rash…"

Murrue's smile grew bigger as she put a hand on his shoulder. "You weren't, Heero," she said, causing him to look at her, "I trust you with my life, and I know that you would never hurt me. The way you held me just now was fine, really."

In fact, she thought, I found it to be incredibly comforting. I wouldn't have minded if you'd held on longer…

"Oh," he said, clearly relieved, "alright… are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes, Heero," she said, "I'm just fine… thanks to you."

He nodded, and together the two of them turned back to watch the students and their families. Murrue let go of Heero's shoulder and grabbed his hand. She tightened her grip and felt him respond in kind. Heero… you may not realize it, but your kindness and compassion are truly amazing. The others may not see it, but I can… and it's one of the reasons I've fallen for you.

….

Taking another look out the window, Lord Uzumi turned back to the man and woman standing in the observation with him. "Are you sure you're alright with this?" he asked.

The brown haired woman nodded. "Yes… I can certainly understand why he'd be uncomfortable seeing us after all that's happened."

"Though we wish it were otherwise," said the black haired man with her.

"Forgive me," said Lord Uzumi, "I had called you here with the hope of easing your pain, but it seems I've only made it worse."

"We'll just have to deal with it," said the woman, "although… you promised us years ago that we would never have to meet again like this."

He sighed. "I'm afraid it cannot be helped." He looked out the window again for a moment before turning back to her. "Call it a twist of fate, but the fact remains that the children have met and there is little we can do about that fact."

"I suppose you're right," she said, "Do they suspect anything?"

"No, I do not believe so," he said, "and I wouldn't worry about anything else either. They seem to have developed a good friendship, but I do not think it will go beyond that."

"That's a relief," said the father, "I was worried there for a moment."

"Lord Uzumi," said the woman, "is there anything else you wish to discuss with us?"

"No," he replied, "that is all."

….

"Man," said Lan, setting her drink down, "not much longer until the big day, huh?"

The Chinese born Coordinator was sitting at a booth with Adaline and Priscilla at one of the bars in Aprilius One. It was early evening, and the three of them had just finished another round of simulator fights for the Mobile Suit Research and Design Cooperative. Lan had invited Commander Rehema to join them, but the Valkyrie had just smiled and said that she was meeting her parents that evening for dinner.

It had been two and a half weeks since Shemei's meeting with Lacus and Eric, and the girls had noticed that their Commander had become a bit subdued since then. Of course, the three of them could hardly blame her when she told them what she had learned. Nuclear powered MS, she thought as she looked at her beer, the PLANTs swore to abandon nuclear power… I suppose it was inevitable that Zala would break that vow.

"Hey, Lan," said Adaline, "you're not getting tipsy already, are you? It's only your second drink, and I know you're no lightweight when it comes to alcohol."

"Oh, please," she replied, "I can drink both your asses under the table, you know that!" She took another swig of her beer to put emphasis on her statement. As she put the glass back down she continued. "I just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"I know what you mean," said Priscilla, looking up from her mojito, "the election is weighing heavily on my mind, as well."

"Good point," said Adaline as she took a sip from her rum-and-coke, "man, three days left… hard to believe, eh?"

"Not just that," said Lan, "you two haven't forgotten what we've been helping the research teams with, have you?"

"No," said Priscilla softly, "and I'm still having difficulty accepting it… mobile suits with devices that can cancel out N-jammers… to say it's an ill omen would be a grave understatement."

"Yeah," replied Adaline, "I know… and I think the Commander's more worried about it than any of us."

"Maybe Bristow can help her," said Lan, "they've been friends for years… I'm sure he could figure out a way to comfort her."

"Actually," said Priscilla, "I think Mr. Bristow is one of the things Commander Rehema is worried about."

"Huh?" said Adaline, "What do you mean?"

"Remember his position?" said Priscilla, "He's one of Zala's staff officers. If he's caught passing her information…"

"He'll be put in front of a firing squad," finished Lan, "and I doubt he'll even get the courtesy of a military tribunal first."

"Precisely," said Priscilla, "and there was something else as well….something about the way the Commander looked as she was talking about him…"

"Hey," said Adaline, smiling, "you don't think she's sweet on him, do you?"

"Maybe," said Lan, smiling as well, "I certainly couldn't blame her if she was; he's one handsome devil. Granted, he's no Heero Yuy, but Eric's definitely not lacking in the looks department, that's for sure."

"Ah, Heero," said Adaline, "would it sound strange if I said I was missing that guy right about now?"

"Not at all," said Priscilla, "I think it's safe to say none of us have ever met someone like him… and that's not counting the fact that he's from another world."

"No joke," said Lan, "man, fighting him was something else. Not to mention that fact-to-face meeting in Banadiya… hot damn! Thank you, After Colony, can I have another?"

The three of them shared a laugh at that. "That's right," said Adaline, "I forgot that that was the calendar system he said was used in his world… if he's any indication of the caliber of their pilots, then I definitely wouldn't mind another coming to the Cosmic Era!"

"Oh man," said Lan, "more boys like him… I'd be a happy girl."

"Indeed," said Priscilla, turning to her, "speaking of Heero, how'd you do on the latest version of my Wing Zero simulator?"

Lan laughed. "You have to ask? It's closer to the real thing than your last version, which means I got my ass handed to me! Has the Commander tried that thing yet?"

"Yeah, she told me about it earlier," said Adaline, "she lost too, though of course she came closer to winning than any of us did."

"Yes," said Priscilla, "she's the only one of us that can really go one-on-one with him for any substantial length of time… it's truly amazing."

"Yeah," said Lan, "but even then… it's still not enough to beat that guy."

"Still," said Adaline, "if any of us has a shot of challenging him on equal ground, it's the Commander. Who knows, maybe the next mobile suit she gets will be enough to level the playing field. That's the main reason she wanted to come back here, after all."

"You're right," said Priscilla, "though I have to wonder if she'll think it's worth it… considering what we've learned from Bristow."

"That's her call," said Lan, grabbing her beer, "we're the Valkyrie's subordinates; we'll follow her no matter what."

The others nodded and grabbed their drinks. Together, the three of them raised their glasses.

"To Shemei Rehema," Lan said with a smile, "the best Commander we could ever ask for!"

"Cheers," they all said as they clinked their glasses.

….

Two days later, Eric Bristow was in his office, packing up his briefcase. I swear, he thought as he grabbed some files, if that staff meeting had gone on another hour I would've killed Zala. That bastard waits until now to mention that Zubov and the rest of Schwarze Team have been transferred to Kaoshiung? Damn him… that piece of shit Commander should've been taken out and shot a long time ago. Hell, I would've done it myself if Zala hadn't transferred me up here.

He sighed as he closed the briefcase and left the office, making his way towards the elevator. No point in worry about it for now, he thought as he entered the lift and punched the button corresponding to the lobby, I'll have wait to conduct a proper war crimes investigation on that bastard until Spitbreak is over. Can't afford to stress out over it in the meantime… I've got enough of that as is.

There was a chime as the elevator arrived at the lobby floor. Stepping out, Eric joined the throng of soldiers and civilian staff members leaving the building. Clad in his custom Field Marshall's uniform, a blue and white ensemble (rank had its privileges), the black haired man definitely stood out in the crowd. He chuckled slightly, knowing that his refusal to wear the purple and black uniforms the rest of the Defense Council had annoyed Zala to no end. Bristow was secure enough in his own position, along with his family's relationship with Zala's, to know that he could get away with such a stunt. Family connections, he thought with a smirk as he exited the building, they certainly come in handy.

Making his way towards his car, Eric glanced furtively over his shoulder. No tail so far, he thought, I'll have to check again once I get on the road, but it seems I'm still in Zala's good graces for the moment. How much longer that can last is up in the air, though…

Reaching his black convertible, he unlocked the door and hopped in. As he keyed the ignition his cell phone rang. Taking the device out of his pocket, he saw that the caller was Shemei. I wonder what's up?

He answered the call, preferring to take it in the parking lot rather than on the open road. "Hey," he said, "everything alright?"

"As much as it can be," said Shemei, "I tried talking my parents into moving to September One. Since Eileen Canaver is the Supreme Council representative for the September City colonies I thought it would be a good place for them to stay for awhile. The moderate faction has a strong hold in that region; hell, it's one of the few that's practically guaranteed to suffer no major losses to the radicals beyond a few local colony council seats."

"I take it things didn't go so well," Eric replied.

"No," she sighed, "mom and dad are convinced that Zala won't try anything against the minority of Naturals living in the PLANTs, and that his ire is directed towards those living in the Earth Alliance held regions of the planet."

"No offense to your parents," said Eric, "but why are they acting like this? They both used to be military officers; they can't be blind to Zala's prejudices and the risk they pose."

"None taken," said Shemei, "the best I can offer you at this point is wishful thinking on their part. They served a long time in the Egyptian Air Force before moving here, and the Middle East is as unstable in the Cosmic Era as it was in Anno Domini, even with the oil now depleted. Sectarian fanatics and ethnic rivalries will do that to a region. Both mom and dad saw plenty of action, and were ready for a quieter life even before the Blue Cosmos attacks forced our exodus. I suppose they've both gone soft; they certainly don't pay as much attention to politics now as they did back on Earth. They both say I'm overreacting to things."

"I'm sorry," said Eric, unsure of how to comfort his friend in what was almost certainly a very distressing situation for her, especially in light of what they had talked about at the Clyne residence.

"Hey, it's not your fault," replied Shemei, "don't worry about it. Anyway, that's not the reason I called."

"Then what is?" he asked.

"Well," she said, "I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow night."

Eric paused for a moment, thinking. "No," he said, "Zala's given us tomorrow off; bastard's in a pretty good mood, though I suppose it's easy enough to see why. I didn't really have any plans, either."

"I see," said Shemei, "in that case… would you like to come over and watch the election coverage tomorrow night? I know Clyne's defeat is a foregone conclusion, but there's more than just his seat up for grabs. You've always been better with politics than I have, so I was hoping to watch it with you and hear your insights."

"I wouldn't go that far," said Eric, smiling to himself, "you're pretty sharp yourself when it comes to politics."

"Thanks," she said, "but I think you and I both know who's more familiar with the labyrinth of shifting alliances that make up the PLANT power structure. So, what do you say; you in?"

"Sure," he said, "are the girls coming too?"

"No," Shemei replied, "I told them to go over to Lacus's place tomorrow night; the girl's pretty down, though she doesn't make it obvious. She's not going to be at her father's campaign headquarters tomorrow night, and I didn't want her to be by herself. Lacus and my subordinates have been friends since the early days of the war, so I'm sure they'll be able to cheer her up a bit."

"You almost sound like her mother, talking like that," said Eric.

Shemei laughed a bit. "Hey, I'm not that old, pal. I prefer to think of myself as a cool big sister figure, you know?"

"I got ya," he said, "So, are your parents going to be at your place tomorrow night?"

"No," she said, "they're spending the evening with some friends. They invited me, but…"

"You felt like you'd be a downer if you watched the coverage with them," Eric finished for her.

He heard Shemei sigh. "Yeah… when I think about what could happen to them after Zala takes power, if he goes too far… well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that."

"You can if you want though," he said, trying to reassure her, "we've been friends for six years now; you can talk to me about anything, you know that."

"I know," said Shemei, "and I'm grateful for that, I really am. You're… really a great guy, Eric. You know that?"

"Aw, shucks," said Eric, "you're making me blush over here." The Field Marshal turned staff officer was surprised to realize that it was actually true; he could feel his face become warm at her remarks.

He heard her giggle a bit. "You, blushing? I'd pay to see that."

"Hey," he replied, "I'm being serious here!"

"Sure you are," said Shemei, "So, tomorrow night… why don't you come by around five? The final poll results won't be in until eight or so, which means we'll have plenty of time to talk and hang out."

"Ok," said Eric, "should I bring some food by?"

"No," she said, "I'll worry about the food, alright? However, if you could spare a bottle from your Captain Morgan stash…"

Eric grinned even though she couldn't see it. "One bottle of Caribbean rum, coming right up."

"Thanks," she said, laughing slightly, "I'm glad you stockpiled a bunch before the war broke out; the natural stuff is getting pretty expensive nowadays, and the synthetics just don't have the same taste to them."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, sighing, "Would it reflect poorly on me if I said one of the side reasons I have for wanting this war over with is so we can start importing the good stuff again?"

"If you said that in front of some people, it might," said Shemei, "but I'm completely with you on this one. So, five o'clock tomorrow?"

"I'll be there," he said.

"Thanks, Eric," she replied.

"You're welcome, Shemei," said Eric.

….

Shemei smiled as she put her phone away. I'm glad he'll be able to come, she thought, if there's anyone's company I want tomorrow, it's his. She knew that she could've called Waltfeld and Aisha as well, but for some reason the only person she wanted to be with come election night was Eric. How strange… ever since I've come back from Earth… no, ever since that meeting at Lacus's place, I've been unable to get him out of my mind. We've been friends for so long, yet this is the first time I've ever felt this way about him.

Maybe it was because of the ever increasing risks he was putting himself through, or maybe it was the new sense of determination that had taken hold of him… whatever the case, Shemei had inexplicably found herself increasingly drawn to her old friend, wanting to support him in whatever way she could.

After spending all those hours cooped up in meetings with the likes of Zala and Keitel, she thought, he needs someone he can talk to, someone he knows he can trust beyond a shadow of a doubt… I can give him that. That desire had been part of her reasoning for inviting him over, but she also had more selfish motives in doing so. The most important one was that, while she didn't want to spend the evening with her parents and had decided to have the girls go over to Lacus's place in an effort to lift her spirits a bit, she didn't want to be alone… and she didn't want him to be either.

Enough worrying about that for right now, she thought. She walked over to her kitchen and grabbed a cook book on the counter. It had been given to her by her mother when she had gotten her own place, and Shemei had treasured it since.

Now, let's see, she thought, skimming through the guide to Egyptian cuisine, what should I go with for tomorrow night? I told Eric I'd take care of the food, and I'm pretty sure we've both had enough of military rations and microwave meals for awhile. She had tried several of the recipes in the past, but cooking was still a developing skill for the Valkyrie, and she knew that she was out of practice.

I'll need to go out shopping for ingredients tonight, she thought, so I better narrow things down now. What should I make? Kabab, Molokheyyah, Keshk… decisions, decisions.

….

It was four thirty the following afternoon as Eric walked up to Shemei's apartment, a bottle of Captain Morgan in his left hand. Damn, why did I leave so early?, he thought as he approached the door, It's not like the traffic was supposed to be bad today or anything like that… I hope Shemei isn't weirded out by me showing up a half hour early. While he could've lived in the officer's apartments like Shemei, Eric had opted instead for a nice condo in one of the residential districts; the combination of his Field Marshal's salary and his family's fortune definitely had its perks.

The truth of the matter was that Eric had actually found himself becoming increasingly fidgety and nervous as he had waited for the minutes and hours to tick by until it was time to head over to Shemei's place. He couldn't figure out why; he'd certainly never acted this way before any of their get-togethers prior to the meeting at the Clyne residence, but now he'd found himself confronted with the proverbial butterflies in his gut. What the hell's up with me?, he thought.

He actually had a faint idea as to what could be making him feel the way he was, but it had taken him completely by surprise. After all, since they had met back in their academy days, Eric had always considered Shemei to be 'one-of-the-guys'; someone to hang out with, have a good time, grab drinks and swap stories. Sure, he had no problem admitting that she was beautiful, and they'd even gone together to the military ball prior to graduation from the academy, but he'd never considered himself romantically drawn to her, and he knew she had felt the same way… until now.

Ever since their conversation after the meeting with Lacus and Shemei's surprising displays of affection Eric had begun seeing her in a new light. Sure, he still considered her to be one of his best friends, but now there was something more there, as well. Something that had led to him dressing up much nicer than he normally would for an occasion like this, for starters. The pants were simple enough, a pair of blue jeans, but his shirt was a more formal white button up one, and over it he was wearing a slick dark blue blazer.

Now, as the ZAFT officer's hand hovered over the buzzer next to the door, he began to wonder if perhaps his own feelings for his friend were beginning to evolve into something deeper… and if her own were as well.

Relax, he thought, taking a deep breath, don't get worked up over this. Remember, she's still your best friend, and she wants your company tonight. If you are developing feelings for her, take your time and be mindful of your actions with her. Observe her as well, and try to see if anything's changed with her, no matter how subtle. Overall, just remember to keep your cool and be the man she expects you to be.

He pressed the buzzer. "Just a second!" he heard a familiar female voice say in reply. He heard some fumbling before the door opened.

Eric was greeted by an interesting sight. Shemei was standing before him, her purple-black hair tied up in a pony tail, dressed in a simple white shirt, a black skirt, and a white apron with a few stains on it. She smiled at him, eyes widening slightly as she did so. "Hey, Eric!" she said, "Sorry, I wasn't expecting you to be over quite so soon."

"It's alright," he replied, "It's my fault; I should've called ahead, let you know I was coming early."

"Don't sweat it," she said, "please, come on it! As you can no doubt tell, I'm in the middle of cooking. I'm almost done; I just need a few more minutes. Do you mind waiting in the living room for a bit?"

Eric smiled. "Sure, no problem." He stepped inside and took off his shoes.

Looking over at Shemei again, he saw her looking him over, an appreciative look on her face. "You look nice," she said, giving him a wink.

Eric's face became a bit warmer at that remark. "Thanks," he replied, "so do you." It was true; even with the stained apron she looked as lovely as ever.

Shemei laughed. "Oh, come on, Eric. I'm a mess and you know it… but I appreciate that all the same."

She led him over to the living room. "I see you didn't forget the rum," she said, eyeing the bottle in his hand.

Eric laughed a bit. "Well, you said you would take care of the food, so the least I could do was uphold my end of the bargain. Speaking of which, whatever you're cooking smells really good; I can't wait to try it."

"Thanks," she said, "I actually started it pretty early; it's been awhile since I've done actual home cooking, so my skills are rusty and I figured I'd need the extra time to make sure I got it right. I've been eating way too many microwave meals lately."

"Believe me," said Eric, "I know what you mean."

She nodded. "Yeah, I suppose you do. Listen, why don't you go ahead and plop yourself down on the couch, alright? I'll have everything done in a few minutes."

"You sure you don't want help?" he asked.

Shemei smiled. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think you're very familiar with native Egyptian cooking. Take a load off, alright Eric? Don't worry; I've got everything under control in the kitchen."

"Ok," said Eric, "as long as you're sure about it."

"I am," she replied, "though I will take this." She grabbed the rum bottle out of his hand. "I'll pour us some shots to go with dinner. Or do you want mixed drinks instead? I've got some Coca Cola in the fridge we can have this with."

"Whatever works for you," said Eric, "I'm fine either way."

"Mixed then," said Shemei, "rum-and-coke sounds pretty good right about now." With that she went into the kitchen, leaving Eric to situate himself on the couch.

"Mind if I turn the TV on?" he asked.

"Go for it," she said, "might as well see what the pundits are saying right about now."

"Got a preferred news network?" said Eric as he grabbed the remote.

"Yeah," he heard her say, "PLANT News Inc. Their anchors tend to be pretty balanced, though the analysts they have can swing all over the political spectrum."

"You got it," he said, flipping to the channel she'd requested. A female anchor appeared on the screen, surrounded by four commentators. The five of them were discussing expected turnout and the clear gap in the polls between Clyne and Zala. Looks like they're all but resigned to Zala's victory, he thought, though the network is at least refraining from calling the election over and done with already. I suppose they deserve some credit on that count.

A new image appeared on the screen, this time showing a map of all the PLANT colonies. There were one hundred twenty of them, divided into twelve groups of ten, known as cities. The hourglass shaped structures were all colored either white or black, the former corresponding to the moderate faction and the later to the radicals. At the moment the balance was fairly even, but Eric knew that it would change within the next few hours. Several individual colonies were gray, indicating an even split of local council seats between the two groups. The only question now, he thought, is just how large the radical faction's majority will be when the night is over.

He closed his eyes for a few minutes, tuning out the commentators' voices. Every colony has a small population of Naturals, most of them the parents of First Generation Coordinators… including Shemei's family. This election may affect them more than anyone else. Unfortunately, I'm not privy to Zala's plans regarding the PLANT's Natural minority, and I haven't been able to dig up any data through my sources. There's always the possibility that he has no plans concerning them, but considering the sheer hatred he has for Naturals, it's unlikely he'll ignore a population of them within the homeland. Their fates may now be decided by virtue of what colonies they live on. Those with moderate leaders that manage to hang onto power may be able to stem at least some of Zala's excesses, but those living under direct radical rule will have no defense.

Sitting there alone with his thoughts, Eric lost track of the passage of time. Shemei's voice suddenly snapped him back to reality. "Alright, it's ready!"

His eyes widened as he looked up to see her walking into the living room. She had removed her apron and was carrying a large tray with several dishes on it, along with their drinks.

"Wow," said Eric as she set the tray down on the table in front of the couch before sitting down next to him, "this looks great!" He smiled and looked at her. "What is all this?"

Shemei returned the smile and gestured to each dish in turn. "This," she said, pointing to a bowl of soup with some small chunks of meat in it, "isMolokheyyah, which is made from finely chopped jute leaves. There's garlic and coriander in there too, and I also added some chicken as well." She gestured to two more plates, each with a serving of rice on one side and a few chicken kebabs on the other. "You serve it over the rice. As you can see, I also prepared kebabs, and I used my mother's marinade recipe. You'll love it, trust me." The Valkyrie then pointed to one last dish with what appeared to be some kind of cake on it. "For desert, I made basbousa, which is a sweet cake made of semolina soaked in syrup. I also added walnut to the top, since I know you like those."

"Incredible," he said softly, his mouth watering at the bevy of Middle Eastern cuisine in front of him. Grinning, he turned to Shemei. "Thank you, this looks amazing!"

The Valkyrie smiled in return, and Eric could've sworn he saw a bit of red in her face. A blush, from her? Wow… maybe my instincts were a little closer to the mark than I realized.

"You're welcome, Eric," she said, "Well, let's dig in!"

"You don't need to tell me twice," he replied, pouring some of the soup over his rice. Grabbing a fork, he started chowing down, Shemei doing the same right next to him.

….

"Oh, man," said Adaline, pushing back her plate, "that was great. Thanks a lot, Lacus!"

Sitting out on the back patio, the three pilots and the PLANT songstress had just finished their dinner, a large platter of lasagna. The colony's lights were dimming, creating the illusion of a sunset.

Lacus smiled at the red-head. "You should thank Mr. Reese when you see him; he's the one that made it."

"Will do," the pilot replied.

"Seconded," said Lan, rubbing her stomach, "wow, I am full. That guy cooks some mean Italian food!"

"Indeed," said Priscilla, "this reminds me of my mother's cooking."

"Oh yeah, that's right," said Adaline, "your mother's Italian, isn't she?"

The blond girl nodded. "Yes, and her lasagna is a lot like this."

"Well," said Lacus, "I'm glad you all liked it. Shall we head inside now? Mr. Reese will grab the plates out here."

The three pilots nodded, and the four of them stood up and went into the house. Lacus lead the way to the living room, and they all sat down on a large couch. The pink-haired girl grabbed the remote. "Does anyone have a particular channel they wish to view the election coverage on?"

At this the three pilots frowned slightly. "Lacus…" said Adaline, "are you sure you want to watch at all? I mean, forgive me for saying this, but…"

"…my father doesn't stand a chance at winning," Lacus finished for her, giving her a sad smile, "Yes, I'm well aware of that, Adaline. I appreciate your concern, but regardless of how unpleasant the outcome may be I still believe we should watch."

"Why?" said Lan, "What good does it do to watch something that's just gonna get you down?"

"Because," said Lacus, "even if the result is a foregone conclusion, there are still things that we can learn by watching."

"I agree," said Priscilla, "Zala's victory speech in particular may shed some light into his plans… regardless of how repulsive it will be to watch."

"Yes," said Lacus softly as she turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels until she came to PLANT News Inc, she leaned back and watched the latest round of commentators and analysts.

Adaline looked over at a clock on the far wall. Six thirty, she thought, an hour and a half left until the polling is complete. She looked to her left where Lacus was sitting.

Lacus… I'll give you credit for trying to hide it, but I can tell this is rough on you. I'm glad the Commander sent us over to keep an eye on you.

….

"This is worse than I thought," said Shemei.

Eric nodded. It was close to eight, and although the final results for the head of the Supreme Council had yet to be determined, most of the regional polls had already closed and tallied. I knew things would go ill for the moderate faction, he thought, but still… this is surpassing my expectations, and Shemei's as well judging from her reaction.

The areas under radical control prior to the election remained firmly in Zala's hands, but the cities under moderate sway had taken a severe beating. While Maius and September City retained moderate majorities, they were the only two of the regions under Clyne's supporters that had, and even they had taken hits in the local colony council seats. Februarius City, a region that had a slight moderate majority, had fallen into the arms of the radical faction, though Tad Elsman, the city's representative on the Supreme Council, had narrowly managed to hold onto his seat, and Eric knew that this was in part to him endorsing Patrick Zala in the race for high office. Elsman is technically a member of the moderate faction, but a more apt description for him up to this point would've been neutral. The man's a careerist and fence stradler; he never takes a solid position until he's forced into it. A consummate politician if there ever was one. Now I suppose we can count him among the ranks of the radicals, at least nominally. I wonder how Clyne will take that betrayal…

Januarius City and its representative, Ali Kasim, had been decisively defeated. The once moderate region was now in the hands of the radicals by a crushing sixty-seven percent, and Kasim himself had been unseated by his rival, Maxmillian Leval. I knew his seat was up for grabs, thought Eric, but I didn't expect Kasim to lose so badly.

November City, along with it Councilman, the neutral/moderate Parnel Jesek, had been crushed even more severely. The radicals had picked up a full seventy percent of the vote, far more than they had been forecasted to. Again, Eric was surprised; while he had known for some time that Jesek's popularity had been fading, the Field Marshall hadn't counted on public opinion turning so sharply against the Councilman.

Damn, thought Eric, the only moderate region that hasn't finished polling yet is Aprilius, and I think we all know how that's going to turn out. He looked over at Shemei, who's face grew grimmer as she studied the screen.

"Hey," he said, "you doing alright?"

She looked over at Eric and gave him a weak smile. "Not really… but you already knew that, didn't you?"

He surprised her, and himself, by putting his arm around her. "Yeah," he said, "I guess that was a pretty stupid thing to ask, huh?"

"No," said Shemei, taking Eric off guard by leaning into his one armed embrace, putting her head on his shoulder, "not at all." She looked up at him, her silver eyes meeting his brown ones. "It shows you care, and that means a lot to me."

"Well," he replied, "I'd be a pretty lousy friend if I didn't. I know how important this is to you, considering your parents' situation. This can't be easy for you to watch."

Shemei shook her head. "No, it's not… but I'd feel worse if I didn't, as strange as that may sound. This affects not just my family but everyone in the PLANTs, not to mention the people down on Earth, whether they realize it or not. It's too important to miss, regardless of my personal feelings on the matter."

She paused and looked at Eric again, a small smile on her face. "That being said, I'm glad you're here with me. I didn't want to watch this alone, but at the same time…"

"You didn't want to watch it with just anyone in light of how you knew it would make you feel," said Eric.

She gave a small laugh. "You're getting pretty good at finishing my sentences, you know that?"

"Sorry," he replied.

He was surprised when she grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "Don't be. We've known each other for a long time now. I don't mind it in the least. Hell, the way I see it, it means you've paid so much attention to me in the times we've hung out that you're able to know what I'm thinking and respond appropriately. There's not a whole lot of people I can say that about."

"Give him enough time, and I'm sure Heero would be one of them," said Eric.

Shemei giggled at that. "Yes, you have a point there. The way he reads people is almost inhuman… but I don't think even he could know me the way that you do."

Eric found himself blushing a bit at that remark. "I think you're giving me a little too much credit there."

"I don't," she said softly. Their eyes met again, silver gems to brown orbs, and a strange silence fell between them.

What's going on?, he thought, suddenly realizing that his face and Shemei's were getting closer and closer, little by little…

They were mere centimeters apart when an announcement on the news jarred them out of their moment. "The Aprilius City results are in, and the final polling has closed on the race for the position of PLANT Supreme Council Chairman!"

Their eyes widened, as if they had finally realized just how close they were, and both Eric and Shemei turned quickly towards the TV. The Field Marshal knew he was blushing, but couldn't work up the nerve to look over to see if Shemei was doing the same. What the hell's gotten into me?

Focusing on the news, he saw that Aprilius City had gone nearly sixty-six percent radical, a decisive win. Moment of truth, thought Eric, unconsciously grabbing Shemei's hand. He only realized he had done so when he felt her squeeze his hand in return. Nervously looking over at her, he saw that she was giving him a small smile.

Turning back to the TV, the two of them saw the final election results tallied. Zala had triumphed, of course, though the margin of his victory surprised Eric. The Defense Chairman had claimed nearly sixty-six percent of the total vote, far more than Eric had expected. The man has played the people's desires for a quick end to the war like the strings of a violin. In the political arena, he's a virtuoso… and his victory tonight was nearly absolute. Eileen Canaver and the other moderate council member will be all but isolated, their strongest support confined to September and Maius City… damn, this is worse than I'd predicted.

"Well," he heard Shemei say softly, "I suppose that's that, huh?"

He turned to the beautiful woman at his side and nodded slowly. Eric then reached for the remote. "Mind if I turn this off? I don't think either of us need to listen to Zala's victory speech."

"Yeah," she said, resignation in her voice. Eric grabbed the clicker and powered off the TV.

The two of them sat there in silence for a few minutes before Eric spoke. "Shemei… I'm sorry."

She put her hand on his arm. "Don't be," she said, giving him a sad smile, "there was nothing you could've done about this."

"Eric," she continued, moving closer to him again, "thank you… for being here tonight. I knew things weren't going to turn out well… but you made it a little more bearable."

He nodded, and after a moment's hesitation put his arm around her. She leaned into the one-armed embrace as he spoke. "You're welcome, Shemei. Is there anything else I can do for you? I can only imagine how worried you are right now…"

"Well," she said, "there are two things."

"Name them," he said, determined to help her.

"The first," said Shemei, "that safe house network you told me about last week, the one you've been working on for moderates who may need protection… can you contact the girls and fill them in on it? I want them to be able to get themselves and their parents somewhere out of Zala's reach if they need to. Right now I'm the only member of the Valkyrie Team that's really drawn his ire, but that could change all too quickly."

"Of course," said Eric, "what about your parents?"

"I'll try talking to them tomorrow," she replied, "though I doubt they'll listen. All I'll be able to do after that is pray, I suppose."

"Alright," he said, "and the second thing?"

She turned and met his gaze. "Could you stay a little longer? I just want to stay like this for awhile… with you."

Eric's eyes widened slightly when he heard that, but he quickly composed himself and did his best to give her a comforting smile. "Sure. I've got nowhere else I need to be tonight, and I know we're getting a late start tomorrow at HQ; Zala passed a memo around yesterday saying he wanted his staff to enjoy the election night for as long as we wanted. Arrogant bastard."

"Don't let him hear you say that," said Shemei, chuckling a bit.

"I won't," he replied. He then grabbed the remote. "Anything on you want to watch?"

"I think they're doing a 'Burn Notice' marathon on 125," she said, "that show's a classic."

"I agree," said Eric as he went over to the channel she'd mentioned.

As the show came on, Shemei spoke. "Hey, Eric?"

"Yeah?" he said, turning to her.

She smiled, and before he could react leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

The officer felt the heat rushing to his face. "For what?" he asked, doing his best not to stammer.

The Valkyrie giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. "For being you," she said softly.

Eric Bristow smiled as he leaned back into the couch, slightly tightening his grip on the woman next to him. "Anytime," he said, "anytime…"

….

"Are you sure you don't want us to stick around a little longer?" asked Lan.

Lacus smiled and nodded. She, along with Commander Rehema's subordinates, was at the front door. The three pilots had just put on their shoes and were standing on the door mat, looking at her with concern.

"I appreciate the thought," said Lacus, "but I'm fine, really. Thank you for coming over tonight; I greatly enjoyed your company."

"Same here," said Adaline, "you sure you're gonna be ok?"

"We can stay for awhile longer," said Priscilla, "it's not like we have anything big going tomorrow morning."

"It's alright," Lacus replied, "I've kept the three of you here long enough. You should go home to your families and spend some time with them."

The three of them looked at each other for a moment before turning back to her. "Ok," said Lan, "take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will," said Lacus, "have a good night."

They all nodded. "You too."

The three of them headed towards the jeep parked in the driveway. Watching for a moment to make sure they didn't have any vehicle problems, Lacus then closed the door. Sighing, the daughter of the now former Supreme Council Chairman went down the hall and out onto the back patio.

"Miss Lacus?" said the butler as she stepped out the back door, "Can I get you anything?"

She looked at him and shook her head. "No, thank you," she replied, "you can go home if you wish, Mr. Reese. Thank you for all your assistance earlier."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," he said, giving her a small smile. "Will you be alright?"

"I believe so," said Lacus, "I appreciate your concern though."

"Very well, Miss," he said, "I bid you goodnight."

After he departed, Lacus closed the back door and walked to the table that she and her friends had eaten at earlier. Pulling out one of the chairs, she sat down and looked out across the vast artificial lake that lay below the hill the Clyne residence was on. In the distance she could barely make out the silhouette of the PLANT Supreme Council building.

Starting tomorrow, she thought, the makeup of the Council will be very different… and overwhelmingly in favor of Patrick Zala. Our military efforts on Earth will be escalated, and I imagine it will be the same in outer space as well. How high will the casualty figures climb?

She looked up at the colony's massive windows, admiring the stars beyond them. "They look so peaceful," she said softly, "how I wish we could have some of that tranquility in the Earth Sphere…"

Athrun, Kira, Heero… what would each of you do to achieve that peace?

What can I do?

Preview for next time!

At long last the repairs are completed, and the Archangel continues on its journey to the Alliance's Alaska headquarters. However, the voyage will not be peaceful, and the ship is once again engaged by the Zala Team. This time, though, the battle will be marred by tragedy in a manner unlike their previous encounters. With the desire to protect transformed into the thirst for revenge, Kira and Athrun will clash in a duel near unmatched in verocity. Next time, of "Journey to a New Battlefield", Epidode Twelve: Fatal Confrontation.

Friendship consumed by the fires of hatred... thus is the Dance of Death played out for all to see.

Author's notes: Credit where credit is due, and the Special Operations Squadrons drew heavily from the Ace Combat Series. Ofnir and Grabacr are named after the two main antagonist squadrons in Five, while Rot, Grun, and Schwarze are all named after enemy ace squads in Zero. Also, Dominic Zubov is the commander of Schwarze Team in Zero, so I felt it appropriate that his character be used here, albeit with my own unique touches and a different personality.

Please review, my friends! I'll see you all next time!