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...

17. Chapter 17

Author's Notes: Hey, long time no see! Ok, seriously, I'm sorry this took so long. Roughly the first half of this chapter is content that I cut from 16, because that one was already ridiculously long… so now 17 is also ridiculously long as a result! Yeah, pretty sure I have a problem with chapter length… I'll TRY to make 18 shorter, but no promises.

Anyway, there's a lot more going on in here besides the big battle; hell, the invasion of Orb actually doesn't kick off until the second half of the chapter! I know most of you just want to get to the big action scenes, but trust me, all the other content is just as important as the explosions, as hard as that might be to believe!

Also, usual warning; have a couple hours set aside before you start reading, along with provisions. You're going to need them…

Disclaimer again: I don't own Gundam Wing or Gundam Seed, Sunrise does. There, now scram, lawyers!

Also, song list for the chapter, in order of appearance, for those of you who care about such things: "The Wings of a Boy Who Killed Adolescence", "Use the Cloak of Darkness", and "Legend of Zero – XXXG-00W0" from the Gundam Wing soundtrack, "If There Were Any Other Way" from Soul Calibur Three, and "Anna Ni Issho Datta No Ni", performed by See-Saw, from Gundam Seed.

Thanks for all your patience and support.

Enjoy!

Episode Seventeen: Wrath of the Perfect Soldier

Down in the Archangel's hangar bay, Murrue stood in front of her crew, with Heero at her side. It had been three days since Orb had received the Alliance's ultimatum, and preparations for battle had been almost nonstop ever since then. There hadn't been time to properly address the crew… until now.

Murrue had had difficulty in preparing for her announcement and what she was about to ask of her crew. She wanted to let them all go and evacuate with the rest of Orb's citizens, but she needed as many people she could get that were familiar with the Archangel to operate the warship during the coming battle. This was why she would ask for volunteers; she would not force anyone to stay, but would still ask for the support of any willing to brave the coming battle. Murrue was nervous to say the least, and she struggled to maintain a calm image in front of the people assembled before her.

"Murrue," she heard Heero say quietly. She turned to him, and he gave her a small nod. "It'll be alright. All you have to do is tell them what's at stake, what the situation is. After that it's their call as to whether or not they stay. You're doing the right thing; don't doubt yourself now."

She smiled, his words giving her a considerable boost in confidence. "Alright, Heero."

Murrue then turned to her crew and cleared her throat before speaking. "Everyone, I would like to begin by thanking you all for everything you've done since our sudden departure from Heliopolis. Our voyage hardly took place under ideal circumstances, and we were in near constant danger, with the enemy hounding our every move. Throughout our journey you have all performed your duties far beyond anything I could've asked for. Your courage and strength never once faltered, although it was severely tested time and time again." She then smiled. "Serving as your Captain has been an honor and a privilege… the greatest of my career. No commanding officer ever had a better crew; of this I have no doubt. I am both proud and humbled to have been given the chance to journey and fight alongside you all."

Murrue then bowed her head. "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your bravery, your sacrifice… for all you have endured and struggled through. None of us wanted to go to war, but you all fought with the courage and tenacity of true soldiers. You have my sincerest gratitude."

She closed her eyes and was silent for a moment, reflecting on all that had happened since the destruction of Heliopolis and their journey across the Earth Sphere. We were unprepared, untested, she thought, but we survived. None of us made it through unscathed, whether it was physically or emotionally, but we managed to keep this ship in one piece against all the odds, and suffered minimal casualties. That's a win in my book… though I wish everyone had made it here.

Raising her head and opening her eyes, she saw the assembled men and women before her smiling, and she knew her words had given them a sense of accomplishment, of pride. It felt incredible to see them all like that… but not any easier to continue her announcement, to ask what she was about to ask of them.

Murrue sighed. "I had hoped that, with our arrival in Orb, we could at last find sanctuary from the fighting that has gripped our world. I wanted nothing more than for us to be able to sit back and take a breather, a reprieve from this war. We fought so hard, only to be betrayed by our own country… I wanted you all to find the peace and safety in this land that you have so dearly earned."

"Unfortunately," she continued, "though we have abandoned the war, it has not abandoned us. Three days ago Orb received an ultimatum from the Atlantic Federation; they are to join them in their fight against ZAFT within one week or face an invasion." Her eyes narrowed. "Our homeland…no, our former homeland seeks to take control of this country that we have sought shelter in, and to add its resources to their own to wage their campaign of genocide."

A collective gasp went up from the crowd, and the pride that had been on their faces earlier was now replaced by shock and fear. Murrue couldn't blame them; to the Atlantic Federation they were now considered traitors, and if they were captured by their former homeland the only thing that awaited them was death.

"I have spoken with Orb's leadership," said Murrue, "and I have committed the Archangel to the defense of Orb when the time comes; Lord Uzumi refuses to accept the Atlantic Federation's ultimatum. I believe that Orb's path, though perilous, is also the right path, and I will do all I can to help them in the coming battle."

She then gestured to the extraordinary young man at her side. "Heero has volunteered to stay and fight as well, along with Kira and Mu La Flaga. They too believe that Orb has the right to determine its own destiny, and to not bow to either the Alliance or ZAFT, not allow itself to be used by regimes whose intent is nothing less than the greatest acts of genocide in human history."

"The four of us," she continued, "have decided to fight for Orb… but I will not force you to follow us. Anyone who wishes to leave this ship and join the evacuation of Orb's citizens is free to do so; you need only to tell me, and I will pass your names on to the Orb government so that they can provide you transport and shelter when the time comes. No one will think less of you, least of all myself; I believe that you have all fought and suffered far more than should ever be asked of anyone, and you deserve a chance to escape this war."

Murrue paused for a moment to catch her breath before speaking again. "This is an important decision for all of you, and I urge you to give it serious consideration. As I said before, I will not force you to follow me into battle against our former comrades… but I will ask for your assistance, nonetheless. I never thought I would say this of our homeland before, but the Atlantic Federation has long ceased to be the great nation we originally signed up to protect. It has become a regime whose sole intent is to kill an entire race of people simply because they were born different, because their genes were altered while they were in the womb. It regards any nation that does not stand with it as an enemy, including neutral countries like Orb. The Alliance will not stop with this land; they will conquer the entire world before turning their might against the Coordinator homeland in outer space."

"There are those among ZAFT," she continued, "who hold a similar mindset when it comes to Naturals; that we must all be killed. However, like those in the Atlantic Federation I believe these extremists are in the minority, and that most of the Coordinators want peace, just like we do. Unfortunately, just like in our former homeland, the extremists who seek genocide are in power, and both sides are escalating this war to the point that the outcome may well end up being the mutual destruction of both races… and the death of humanity itself."

"Orb," said Murrue, "stands against the radicals in both the Alliance and ZAFT. Its leaders seek to bring a peaceful resolution to this long, brutal conflict before it consumes us all. The ideals of this nation, a land where Naturals and Coordinators have lived together in peace since before the start of this war, may be the last slim hope this world has to end the fighting before it destroys everything and everyone. I will do all I can with the Archangel to preserve that hope… and to that end, I ask for your help once more. I ask you to lend me your strength and courage in the struggle ahead; you know this ship better than anyone else in the Earth Sphere, and in your hands its effectiveness in battle cannot be matched."

Murrue then gave her crew a soft smile. "But as I said before, I will not force you to commit yourselves to this struggle, especially given the odds against us. Three days have passed since Orb received the Atlantic Federation's ultimatum; in four more the deadline will come and go, and the Alliance fleet will set sail. From there it will only be a matter of days until the invasion begins."

"Think hard over the next four days," she continued, "again, for those who wish to leave, no one will think any less of you; you all have endured far too much already, and have earned the right to leave this war behind. However, please do not make your decision in haste; take your time over these next four days to do so. You are more than welcome to leave, but your continued service on this ship could make the difference between ending this war with humanity still alive or consumed by the fires of hatred. For those who choose to stay, I can only offer my sincerest gratitude and the slim hope that, with the help of Orb and others throughout the Earth Sphere who are willing to risk their lives for peace, that we may yet save mankind from destroying itself."

Murrue then saluted her crew. In light of the fact that they were no longer truly military personnel such a gesture might have seemed unnecessary, but Murrue was not doing so out of protocol. Rather, she wanted to give her crew one more acknowledgement of all that they had been through, and how much their continued support would mean to her. "That concludes my address. You are dismissed."

….

Heero had watched Murrue throughout her speech, admiring the strength and conviction with which she had addressed her crew, how she had explained her decision to help defend Orb and pleaded her case to the assembled audience. She had been calm yet passionate, and had made it clear that whether they would support her decision and stay or evacuate with Orb's civilians that she was both proud of them and grateful for all that they had done. She was unwavering in her beliefs and determination, but would not force others to follow in her footsteps, and had reassured them that she would not hold anything against those who no longer had the will to continue fighting.

In a way, it had reminded Heero of hearing Relena's speech during her coronation ceremony as Queen of the World Nation. However, while his friend from his old world had spoken with the purity that came with the lofty ideals of the Peacecraft family, Murrue had been much more down to earth, addressing her crew in a way that was both an honest appraisal of the situation and a simple appeal to do what they felt was right. Both women had spoken to the hearts of their audiences, but while one had the air of youthful yet regal idealism, the other had an aura of maturity and humility, a simple kind of grace and decency, and above all the determination to fight for what she believed was right.

The total pacifism of the Peacecraft family was held as the ultimate of ideals in my old world, he thought, but I could never truly embrace it, no matter how much Relena may have wanted me to. Murrue, though… she understands that sometimes the only way to bring about peace is to fight, to battle for her beliefs and for what's right. In this kind of situation with the two major powers hell bent on the annihilation of countless innocent people, negotiation and an appeal to their hearts will not be enough to stop them. The only way to truly end this war is to fight and defeat the extremists who cannot accept the existence of those they see as their enemies. I don't think it's something Relena could ever truly understand, but Murrue does, and she's willing to risk her life, to have blood on her hands, in order to protect the innocent and do all in her power to end this war.

It spoke to the courage and strength Heero so admired in Murrue, the willingness to risk her life and fight against overwhelming odds just to do the right thing. Her sense of justice and simple moral decency would not allow her to stand by and watch as her former homeland embarked on a campaign to subjugate a neutral nation and turn its resources towards the goal of genocide. She had the chance to evacuate with Orb's citizens, and Heero had no doubt that she was aware of that, but she had refused, deciding to face her enemy head on, to endure a war that was growing more brutal and monstrous by the day for the chance to bring the conflict to some form of peace that did not involve the mass-murder of countless innocent people.

For Heero, the thought of taking his leave from Orb had never once crossed his mind. If Murrue was willing to put her life on the line to defend its ideals and the hope it represented, then of course he would stay with her. He would stand by her side and support her decision, fighting for her ideals… fighting for her.

Heero may have been a novice when it came to matters of the heart, but there was one thing he knew for sure; one did not abandon the woman they loved, did not leave her to fight her battles alone.

As the crew dispersed Heero saw Murrue turn to him, a mixture of relief and guilt on her face.

"Well," she said, "I made my case, though I hated to ask them to even consider staying on in light of all they've been through. No one's earned a reprieve from this war more than them… but I need their help if the Archangel is to truly operate at peak efficiency." She gave him a weak smile. "It's out of my hands now. Four days from now I'll know how many have decided to stick around."

Heero nodded. "You did the right thing, Murrue. This is a struggle that they should only take part in if they're willing to, if they're truly committed to fighting for peace."

Her smile grew a little at his words. "Thank you, Heero. At the very least, I'm glad you're willing to fight with me."

He smiled slightly in return. "You're welcome, Murrue, though you don't have to thank me for this."

"I will anyway," she replied, "you deserve at least that much considering all you've done, especially with no real reward. Hell, you don't even draw salary like the rest of us do… or did, before we left the Alliance."

"And here I told you when we first met to consider me a mercenary," said Heero, unable to resist a small smirk, "I guess I'm pretty lousy at fighting for reward, or at least getting a contract set up."

In spite of all the pressure she was under, Murrue laughed. "That's true, though you have gotten room and board out of us."

Heero nodded, glad simply to see her laugh a little. With all the responsibilities on her shoulders, he thought, it's a marvel she can even smile… I have to do all I can to help her bear that burden.

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, a mutual, silent acknowledgement of the gratitude and respect they held for each other. They were both well aware of the challenges that would be upon them in the coming days, but knew that they would not have to face them alone, that the person they cared about more than anything else would be standing right beside them, fighting with everything they had to protect them and survive to see the end of the war.

Murrue then gestured towards the hangar exit. "Well, I have to head to the dock; I know Colonel Kisaka was scheduled to bring by the new counselor officer right about now, along with a replacement XO now that Natarle is no longer on the ship. Care to join me?"

"Sure," said Heero, "it'll be good to meet them face to face."

Murrue nodded, and the two of them began making their way towards the hangar exit and through the ship's corridors towards the starboard hatch. "I've gone over the files Kisaka gave to me," she said, "and I'm impressed with their backgrounds. Still, there's nothing quite like an in person meeting to truly take the measure of someone; a personal and career history report can only tell you so much."

Heero nodded. "I hope they're up for serving on the Archangel; this ship never seems to draw the easy assignments."

"That's true now more than ever," said Murrue, "I know both of our new arrivals have field experience; that will serve them well in the days ahead… I imagine they will have to draw upon all of it over the course of their assignment with us."

The two of them were quiet for the rest of the way, each contemplating the near-future. Heero could only begin to imagine the kind of force the Alliance would be massing for the invasion of Orb. I hope this nation's intelligence service has eyes on the Alliance's Pacific forces, he thought, and that they'll be able to get a sense of the composition of the enemy fleet. I don't like flying into a battle blind. Alaska was bad enough, what with it being a surprise attack on one base. A force needed to conquer an entire country with Orb's military might… we're going to need all the advance information we can get if we're going to stand a chance of repelling their assault.

As they exited the starboard hatch and made their way down the gangway Heero saw two women in Orb military officers' uniforms standing on the dock. One had raven hair that fell slightly past her shoulders, pale skin, and light blue eyes with a fierce, determined gleam in them. She had a lean frame, and stood ramrod straight, rigid and inflexible. Her demeanor was that of a cool professional, and the small smile she had on her face was one of proud confidence in her abilities. In a way she reminded Heero of Lieutenant Badgiruel, though he hoped that this new officer would be willing to show a greater degree of flexibility than Murrue's former XO.

The other woman had a much gentler, almost soothing feel to her. She was about the same height as her companion, perhaps an inch shorter, but her frame was more curvaceous, and taken with her relaxed, almost empathic demeanor it gave her a feeling that Heero thought would be suited to a mother. Not that I'd know, he mused, I never knew my own mother. Still, that was the feeling he got from her. Like her companion she had pale skin, but her hair was blonde and tied up in a simple bun, and her dark blue eyes seemed to radiate compassion and understanding, a considerable contrast to her companion. Her smile further accentuated that aura, and it was much more open and genuine than that of the officer standing next to her.

Both the women appeared to be in their mid-twenties, and they saluted as Murrue and Heero approached. The Gundam pilot and the lovely Captain both nodded in acknowledgement, and the latter smiled at the new arrivals. "At ease, both of you," she said.

They nodded, and while the blond woman's stance became more normal, the raven haired officer barely budged, save for lowering the hand she had saluted with.

"I'm Murrue Ramius," said Murrue, still smiling, "Captain of the warship Archangel. I'm pleased to meet both of you, and am grateful for your willingness to join my crew."

They both nodded, and the raven haired woman was the first to reply, holding out her hand. "I'm Lieutenant Kimi Tsukino. It's an honor to meet you, Captain Ramius. Colonel Kisaka's report spoke very highly of you."

"I'm flattered, Lieutenant Tsukino," said Murrue, bowing her head slightly as she shook the Lieutenant's hand, "I look forward to working with you."

The blond woman held out her hand. "My name is Dr. Claudia Monroe. In the Orb military I hold the rank of Ensign, though I'm more commonly referred to by my civilian title. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Ramius." Her voice was soft and gentle, and Heero noted the mild British accent she had.

"Likewise," said Murrue, shaking her hand. As she let go she then looked at Heero. "And this is Heero Yuy, my best pilot."

"Wing Zero's pilot," said Tsukino, smiling and nodding at Heero as she held out her hand. Heero was surprised to see that her smile had suddenly become much more energetic than the cool one he had observed earlier. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Yuy," she said, "I've studied all the reports Colonel Kisaka was able to provide regarding your combat abilities, and I was amazed at what I learned about you. It will be a privilege to serve with you."

Heero nodded and shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you," he said.

After the handshake he turned to Claudia, who gave him a warm smile as she held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Heero," she said, "your name has spread quite widely in the Orb military, along with rumors of your accomplishments. You've built up quite a reputation."

"Thanks," he said as he shook her hand, not sure what else to say in response.

As he let go Murrue spoke up. "I'm sure you're eager to get oriented on the ship, but I would like to talk to the two of you a bit in the officers' lounge. Please, come with me." She then turned and smiled at Heero. "You're free to tag along if you'd like, Heero."

He nodded. "Sure, let's go."

As the four of them headed up the gangway Lieutenant Tsukino gazed at the ship, her cool professionalism replaced by awe and excitement. "I've heard so much about the Archangel," she said, "I wanted to see this ship up close when you guys first came to Orb, but I was out on patrol aboard the destroyer Yamagumo. When we finally made port the Archangel had already left… I was so disappointed."

Claudia giggled a bit. "You'll have to forgive Lieutenant Tsukino; she loves ships, whether they are space going or aquatic. The more advanced they are, the better, and the Archangel is the most sophisticated warship in the entire Earth Sphere."

Murrue smiled. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lieutenant. I trust it won't interfere with your duties."

"No, ma'am," she said, once again becoming calm and rigid, "I will keep my personal feelings in check while carrying out my responsibilities as your XO."

"That you can count on," said Claudia, "the Lieutenant and I have served together before, and I can assure you that she is a model officer."

"Good," said Murrue, "the personnel files said as much, but I still like to make my judgments based on meeting people face-to-face."

"An admirable quality," said the doctor, "and one that many others would do well to embrace."

I couldn't agree more, thought Heero as they moved through the ship, if more people shared Murrue's outlook, her willingness to get to know others… this world would be a very different place.

They were quiet for the rest of the journey to the officers' lounge, and the trip went without incident save for a brief stop at Murrue's office, where she picked up two files from her desk. When they arrived Murrue led the group over to a table, and everyone grabbed a seat around it, the Captain laying the two files on the tabletop. Heero was on Murrue's left, while Claudia and Lieutenant Tsukino were on the other side of the table.

"As I said before," said Murrue, "I have reviewed your personnel files, but I would still like to get to know the two of you a bit in your own words before you settle in."

"Understandable," said Claudia, nodding, "may I ask why Heero Yuy is with us for this? Not that I mind, I'm just curious. Forgive me if I sound offensive."

Murrue smiled. "It's alright. I want Heero here with us because I value his insights and opinions. They've served me well in the past, and I want him to be able to form his own impressions of the two of you, ones that go beyond your files."

"I see," said Lieutenant Tsukino, looking at the Gundam pilot with renewed interest and respect, "I knew Mr. Yuy was a formidable pilot, but I was unaware that you sought his counsel for matters unrelated to mobile suit combat."

"Heero's been fighting for a very long time," said Murrue, looking down for a moment, a hint of pity in her eyes and voice, "far longer than anyone should've had to." Her voice then became stronger, with more than a bit of pride in it. "Through that he has gained an incredible wealth of experience and knowledge, and I value both as much as I do his piloting abilities."

She looked at Heero and smiled again before turning back to the two women sitting across from her. Heero gave her a slight smile in return, while at the same time feeling his face warm ever so slightly. He knew she valued his experience gained from the battles he'd fought in his old world, but to hear her say it with such pride in front of two people she had just met was something else. It felt good… better than he'd thought something so simple could feel.

Heero saw Claudia's expression actually become one of concern. "Heero," she said, "Colonel Kisaka said you were sixteen years old. That may be the age at which many soldiers have enlisted and are fighting at, but it is still in my opinion too young for anyone to be on the battlefield… and Captain Ramius's words imply that you started fighting at an even younger age. You're a former child soldier, aren't you?"

It was a question to which the woman no doubt knew the answer, but one that Heero still wouldn't answer directly. It wasn't out of disrespect or rudeness towards Claudia, but because it was something he only felt comfortable talking about with Murrue. "When I started fighting doesn't matter anymore," he said, "I know that I have to fight now in order to protect the woman… the people I care about. That's why I'm piloting Wing Zero; I'm not fighting because of my past, but because of the danger the Archangel faces here and now, and will face in the future."

The slip of the tongue caught him off guard. He had no problem admitting to people he knew that he was fighting to protect Murrue, but to two women that he had just met… that was another matter.

He was surprised to feel Murrue's left hand gently grab his right. It was in his lap under the table, so Lieutenant Tsukino and Claudia couldn't see what was happening. Still, there was no hiding the smile she gave him as her eyes met his. Heero nodded and gave her a slight smile in return while gently squeezing her hand in a gesture of acknowledgement and appreciation.

The two of them then turned back towards the two women on the other side of the table. The Lieutenant didn't react to what had happened, but there was a knowing look in Claudia's eyes, like she had just come to a realization of some sort. However, she kept any thoughts of hers to herself and did not comment on Heero and Murrue's behavior.

"I just want to briefly review your personal histories," said Murrue, "and then we'll get the two of you settled in. Lieutenant Tsukino, do you mind if I start with you?"

"Not at all, ma'am," she said.

"Alright," said Murrue, opening one of the files to the front page and briefly glancing at it before speaking again, "You've lived in Orb all your life, and the past two generations of your family have all served in the armed forces. Was that a major influence your decision to enlist, or were your reasons unrelated to your family?"

"It was a mix, Captain," she replied, "as the file states, I'm a military brat; the service, in one form or another, is a major part of my family's history. My mother's a Chief Medical Officer in the main Naval Hospital, while my father was a destroyer Captain before being transferred to Navy HQ and being assigned as a staff officer. I'll admit there was some encouragement on my father's part to join the military, and our family history added a bit of pressure, but I really did want to join the armed forces and protect my country." She smiled. "Plus, as you've already noticed, I like ships, and the Navy's full of them. I couldn't think of a better career path for me."

"You never considered the civilian merchant fleet?" asked Murrue.

Tsukino shook her head. "Too much paperwork, and working on a freighter just sounded way too boring. I wanted a little adventure, and the Navy provided for it."

Murrue smiled. "Fair enough. Your record's free of any major blemishes; you don't have a single reprimand on file. The fact that you have actual combat experience will serve you well here, especially considering the fight we'll no doubt have on our hands soon enough."

"I wouldn't go that far, ma'am," she said, looking down, "the 'engagements' listed in that file are encounters with pirates, who were in small boats armed with machine guns and RPGs. Against an Orb destroyer that's hardly an even fight, and certainly nowhere near the actual experience crew members in both the Alliance and ZAFT navies have now."

"Perhaps," said Murrue, "but it's still battle experience. You joined the Navy at the age of sixteen, and have been involved in no less than ten direct engagements with pirates and another five supporting missions for Special Forces units over your ten year career. There are several commendations listed in your file for keeping a cool head under fire and taking initiative. While serving as an Ensign aboard the destroyer Shimushu you were stationed on the auxiliary bridge and took command of the ship when the main bridge was hit by a rocket volley from a pirate ambush and your immediate superiors were either killed or seriously wounded."

"It was blind luck I wasn't among them, Captain," said Tsukino, "I had been sent to the auxiliary bridge to help coordinate with the amphibious assault teams that would be storming the pirate base under our fire-support. It was dark, and the pirates managed to strike first; damn wooden skiffs have a minimal radar cross-section. Their attack gave away their position and made them easy targets, but their opening volley did maul the Shimushu."

"Regardless of what you think," said Murrue, "the fact remains that you were in the right place at the right time, and you not only took command of the destroyer but managed to coordinate a counter-attack; according to the file, no less than five pirate skiffs were obliterated by fire from the Shimushu. Your performance was exemplary, and I'm not surprised you were promoted to Lieutenant after that engagement."

Tsukino smiled slightly and bowed her head. "Thank you, Captain Ramius."

Murrue nodded in return. "You're welcome, Lieutenant. I did note something odd though; you were offered a two rank jump to Lieutenant Commander after the battle. Why did you settle for just Lieutenant?"

"I didn't want to skip ahead, so to speak," said Tsukino, "and, truth be told, commanding the Shimushu was nerve wracking, and I didn't think I was ready for the responsibility of being in charge of a ship at that point; Lieutenant Commanders are frequently the COs of destroyers, and the Shimushu was no exception. I wanted to build up more experience before taking a crack at my own command."

"I understand, Lieutenant," said Murrue, "and I think your caution was prudent… though personally I believe you were ready for your own command at that point, judging by your performance in the battle."

Tsukino's eyes widened slightly in surprise before the Lieutenant regained her composure, and a bashful smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Captain… I'm honored by your praise."

"It's well earned," said Murrue, "now, it's been two years since your temporary command of the Shimushu. As my XO, you will be expected to be able to command the Archangel if I become unable to do so; are you prepared for that level of responsibility?"

The Lieutenant's expression became more determined, the cool confidence that she had exhibited down on the docks now back in place. "Yes ma'am," she said, "and I promise I will not disappoint you."

Murrue nodded. "I'm sure you won't, Lieutenant. I look forward to working with you."

She then closed the first file and opened the second one while shifting her attention to Claudia. "Ensign Claudia Monroe," said Murrue, "or do you prefer Dr. Monroe? I'll go with whichever one you're comfortable with."

"Actually, if you don't mind I'd prefer Dr. Claudia," the blond woman replied, and Heero was surprised to see her expression become somewhat uneasy, "I… I'm not comfortable with my family name."

"I see," said Murrue, "I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I'd like to know the reason for that. Your file mentions you had a falling out with your family, but the details aren't mentioned."

"Of course, Captain Ramius," she said, "I don't wish to hide anything from you, especially since you're entrusting me with the mental and emotional well-being of your crew. I'll start from the beginning."

"I appreciate that," Murrue replied, a sympathetic look on her face, "Please, take your time, Dr. Claudia."

The blond woman nodded and closed her eyes for a moment before replying. "As you've no doubt read in the file, I was born in the Atlantic Federation, more specifically London. I spent my entire early life there, only leaving the city for vacation or when I headed off to college at the age of sixteen. I was a prodigy, and was accepted into the University of Cambridge. I earned my doctorate in Counseling Psychology in four years and started practicing as a therapist shortly thereafter. My patients ran a wide variety, but eventually I began to specialize in two categories; people suffering from PTSD, and victims of aggressive harassment and bullying."

"It must have been difficult work for you," said Murrue, compassion and understanding clear in her voice.

Claudia nodded, a soft smile on her face. "I won't argue with that, but it was also rewarding. I took people who felt that they had no one else to turn to and showed them that there was someone who did care about what they were suffering, who wanted to help them face their fears and sorrows and overcome them. I met some truly wonderful people… including my lover. His name was John Harper. He was an engineer working for a major construction company, and he had just lost three of his friends in an on-sight accident, and had barely managed to escape that fate himself. It understandably traumatized him, and as I worked with him I discovered who he was on the inside; a kind, hard working, and very intelligent young man. Eventually I found I could not maintain my professionalism while working with him; I'd fallen in love. More importantly, he reciprocated my feelings. We began a relationship… it was the happiest time of my life."

"What happened to him?" asked Murrue, trepidation in her voice.

Claudia sighed. "I accepted him for who he was, what he was: a Coordinator. Unfortunately, my family did not share my sentiments. Both my mother and father were very religious people, and viewed the genetic modification that went into creating Coordinators was an affront to god, that the people that resulted from it were inhuman monsters. I could never embrace their beliefs; I wasn't particularly religious to begin with, and as I grew older I became more distant from them. Still, I thought that I could change their minds. I felt that if they would only meet with the man I had fallen in love with, see just what kind of a person he was, that they would understand." She looked down. "I was a fool. A young, hopeless, romantic fool."

"No," said Murrue, shaking her head, "you were in love, and you wanted to share that love with not just your boyfriend but your parents as well. There's nothing foolish about that."

Claudia looked up and gave Murrue a sad smile, and Heero could see a mixture of pain and gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Ramius. I'm grateful for your words."

"We can stop if you'd like," said Murrue, "I have a feeling I know where this is headed, and I don't wish to make you relive something painful."

Claudia shook her head. "I appreciate that, Captain, but as I said before I don't want to hide anything from you. Anyway, one night I told my parents I was bringing John over for dinner, to give them a chance to get to know him. I was surprised at how calm their reaction was, and thought I'd have a chance to get them to like him. When I brought him over though, my father greeted us at the door… with a pistol."

"My god…" said Murrue, putting her right hand to her mouth. Her left hand, still holding Heero's right, tightened its grip.

"He shot John in the chest," said Claudia, struggling to maintain her composure, "no words, no nothing, just shot him. I grabbed him as he fell to the ground, held him close… he died in my arms, while my father just stood by and watched."

"I'm so sorry…" said Murrue softly.

Heero nodded. "As am I." The words felt horribly inadequate to him, but he didn't know what else to say.

"I appreciate your condolences," said Claudia. She took a deep breath for continuing. "After that, my father just went back into the house and closed the door. He didn't look at me, didn't say anything… he just slammed the door while John lay in my arms, a pool of his blood spreading around us. I briefly saw my mother in the doorway behind him. She looked so… cold, like the warm and gentle woman who had raised me no longer existed. Her eyes were empty, soulless blue orbs… I'll never forget that image."

"What did you do next?" asked Murrue.

"I called the police and an ambulance," she replied, "I knew John was already dead, but I still called for one anyway. I… I wasn't really operating on conscious thought at that point. My mind was overwhelmed with shock and grief, so my body just went on autopilot. My father was arrested and charged with first degree murder, while my mother was charged as an accessory; she had known what he was planning and had done nothing to stop him. They were both convicted and sent to prison; my father's serving life without parole, while my mother got a ten year sentence."

"Please do not take offense at this," said Murrue, "but I'm surprised they were given those sentences. I completely agree with the punishment of course, but given the Atlantic Federation's prejudice against Coordinators…"

"You wouldn't expect them to go for the maximum sentence," said Claudia, finishing Murrue's words, "I understand and agree with what you're saying, and take no offense from it. The British Isles may be part of the Atlantic Federation, but their justice system is not as corrupted as that of the mainland… though this was four years ago, so I'm not sure if that still applies. Anyway, the judge and jury were honest, untainted by the anti-Coordinator bias. They saw not a monster but a man who had been murdered in cold blood, and they acted accordingly. Justice was served, though of course it would never bring John back."

"I know," said Murrue sadly, "but at least he could rest in peace after that."

"You're right, Captain," said Claudia, a sad smile on her face, "wherever John is now, I'm sure it's the gentle place he wished our world could be."

"I take it you left the Atlantic Federation after the trial," said Murrue.

Claudia nodded. "I couldn't stay in the Atlantic Federation after what had happened, and I couldn't go to Eurasia either; their status as an allied state did them no favors in my eye. I needed a fresh start, and more importantly a place removed from the foolish hatreds and prejudices that had led to John's death. I had heard of the Orb Union's willingness to protect Coordinators from discrimination, and that both races lived there in peace and friendship. That was why I decided to go there."

"Did you have any friends or family in the country?" asked Heero.

She shook her head and smiled slightly at the Gundam pilot. "I had no one, Heero. I realize this sounds foolish, but when I packed my belongings and headed for Orb, I had no connections there, no one to help me land on my feet when I arrived, to help me begin my new life. It was a rushed move, and one I knew was fraught with risk, but I did it anyway. Fortunately I had saved up a considerable amount of money from my practice, so I had some resources to aid my transition. A few friends of mine also gave me some cash to help me get started. They were good people, and like me were unable to accept the beliefs that had led to my tragedy and decision to leave the Atlantic Federation. Without their help… well, my new life in Orb would've gotten off to a much rougher start."

"It still must've been difficult when you first arrived," said Murrue, "you were in an unfamiliar land, trying to make a new home and life for yourself… that couldn't have been easy."

"No, Captain Ramius," said Claudia, "though I had enough money to rent an apartment for a few months, it was difficult to find work; like I said before, I had no connections, and more importantly I had no one I could use as a reference for job hunting. I still had my resume and practical experience, of course, but it was still challenging to figure out how to set up my career again."

She smiled. "As my funds ran low I became desperate, and in that desperation I found inspiration. At the time it seemed like such a wild idea, but in hindsight I believe it was a conclusion I should've come to much sooner. As I stated earlier, one of the areas I specialized in was counseling people with PTSD. During my time in the Atlantic Federation I had helped primarily police officers and people involved in accidents, like John, but I realized that my experiences could also help soldiers. Of course, just like now the Orb Union was a neutral nation, but its armed forces still got into engagements with pirates and terrorists, and inevitably there were casualties. I decided that I could help those people by joining the Orb military as a counselor officer, while at the same time honoring John's memory by serving in the force that protected the nation that allowed Naturals and Coordinators to live in peace together."

"I can understand that decision," said Murrue, nodding, "according to your file you joined the Naval Medical Academy and quickly rose to the top of its psychology section. If you don't mind me asking, why did you choose the Navy rather than the Army?"

"A flight of fancy, you could say," said Claudia, "I've always loved the sea, and I wanted to get an assignment as a counselor officer aboard a ship, so the Navy was the natural choice for me. It wasn't anything profound or noble… I just couldn't resist the call of the sea."

"You served on several ships over the course of the last three years," said Murrue, "and your file notes that quite a few of them saw action against pirates. By now you must have considerable experience working with soldiers suffering from PTSD."

Claudia nodded. "Though naturally the ships of the Orb Navy are far more powerful than anything pirates could field, that doesn't mean all our engagements went according to plan or were easy victories for us. There were casualties on our side, fatal and otherwise, and while the medics treated the physical wounds I helped mend the hearts and minds that had suffered as much as the body. It was not easy work; soldiers go through so much more than civilians, are under so much more pressure… but I'm proud to say all my patients made improvements, were able to overcome their trauma. Not a single one committed suicide; I consider that to be the greatest accomplishment of my career."

"As do I," said Murrue, smiling, "there are so many people that never consider the emotional well-being of soldiers, never thinking that they are only human and need as much support as anyone else. However, you were able to give them that support, to help them see that someone did care about them and could help them through the worst points of their lives, and keep them from succumbing to despair."

"Thank you, Captain," said Claudia, bowing her head, "that's the highest praise I could ask for."

Murrue returned the gesture. "It's well earned, Dr. Claudia."

Claudia smiled. "My most recent assignment was the destroyer Yamagumo. That's where I met Lieutenant Tsukino. I've served on that ship with her for the past six months, and we've been friends since day one."

"I was glad both of us got asked to volunteer for transfer to the Archangel," said Tsukino, smiling as well, "I talked with Claudia pretty much every day aboard the Yamagumo; I think it's safe to say we're best friends now."

"Well," said Murrue, "I'm certainly glad the two of you were able to join us." She closed Claudia's file and stood up. "I think that's enough. I appreciate the two of you being willing to talk with me like this."

The two women stood up as well, along with Heero. "No problem, Captain," said Tsukino.

"Likewise," said Claudia.

"Alright," said Murrue, "Lieutenant Tsukino, if you'll come with me I'll get you oriented on the bridge." She then turned to Heero. "Could you show Dr. Claudia to the med bay, Heero?"

Heero nodded. "No problem, Murrue."

Murrue smiled. "Thanks, Heero."

"Captain," said Claudia, "when you have the time, I'd appreciate it if you would send me the personnel files for the crew; I'd like to get some background information before I begin working with them."

"Of course, Dr. Claudia," said Murrue, "I'll send you the files as soon as I'm done helping Lieutenant Tsukino settle in."

"Thank you, Captain," said Claudia, "after I've done an overview I'll compose a list of those I would like to meet with for evaluations; I don't think your crew has had any since before Heliopolis."

Murrue nodded, sighing. "That's correct, Dr., and that's something I'd like to begin correcting. I'm sure a few of them could use someone like you to confide in. I've already addressed the crew regarding my decision to help defend Orb, and have asked only for volunteers to stay aboard the ship. I'll send you a list of who decides to stay once I have it; that should be in about four days."

"Understood, Captain," Claudia replied.

They split off after exiting the lounge, with Murrue and Lieutenant Tsukino going right and Heero and Claudia going left. The Gundam pilot and the ship's new counselor officer walked in silence for a few seconds until the blond woman broke it.

"I don't suppose the Captain has a personnel file on you, does she?" she asked.

Heero shook his head. "No. Sorry, but you won't be getting any dossier on me when Murrue sends you those files."

"That's too bad," said Claudia, "Colonel Kisaka's report was thorough with regards to your accomplishments on the battlefield while he and Lady Cagalli were with the Archangel, but there was little info as to your psyche." She looked at him with concern in her eyes. "You said earlier that you aren't fighting because of your past, and while I do believe you I know it's not that simple. The motivations you have for fighting now may be focused on the present and the future, but the morality and emotions that guided your decision was shaped by your past experiences... and I imagine many of them were very traumatic."

"I fought and survived," said Heero coolly, "that's all that matters." He wasn't trying to be rude to the doctor, and he could tell that she wanted to understand him in order to help him, but the ground she was treading on was something that he only felt comfortable talking about with Murrue.

"Survival isn't everything," Claudia countered, "and I have a feeling you know that as well as I. I may not know where you're from or what you went through in your past, but I know how to read people, and I can see that your past has left its mark on you, and in a big way. You carry yourself with the calm confidence of a battle-hardened soldier, and your strength and courage is obvious to anyone who looks you in the eye… but there's far more to you than just the mind and body of a seasoned fighter."

She stopped in her tracks, and Heero turned around to look at her as she continued speaking. "In my time with the Orb Navy I had patients who, outwardly, looked to be the picture of emotional and mental health. But there was something in the way they held themselves that spoke of hidden burdens that they were carrying, though of course it was impossible to know the details without speaking to them. Still, in a way I could sense the severity of the psychological wounds they were trying to hide… and your own scars run deep. Something terrible happened to you, beyond the battles you took part in over the years, something that marked you in a way that simply growing up and fighting as a child soldier, while traumatic enough in and of itself, could not. When I look in your eyes I see the same calm strength that everyone else who's encountered you has witnessed and respected, but behind that there's pain and guilt the likes that they could never imagine, the likes that I've rarely seen in the people I've worked with."

Claudia walked up to Heero and put her hands on his shoulders. The Gundam pilot was slightly taken aback by her action, but he did not push her away. He simply looked into her eyes, and thought they were a different color than Murrue's he still saw the same incredible compassion that the beautiful Captain had within hers.

"I know that we have just met, and that it's natural for you to find it difficult to trust me as such with information about your past, especially that of a tragic nature," she said, "but please, give me a chance to try and help you. What you say will not go beyond the two of us; I give you my word.

Heero shook his head. "Dr. Claudia… I appreciate your willingness to try and understand me, to help me deal with my personal issues. You're right in that something terrible did happen in my past, something beyond the many battles I fought… but it isn't something I can talk about with you. I'm sorry."

"Can you talk about it with anyone?" she asked, "Heero, it's not healthy to keep pain bottled up, especially something so traumatic; talking about it with someone is the best way to overcome it."

Heero smile slightly, remembering that night a few months ago, when Murrue had come to his room while they were journeying through the Red Sea… when she had comforted and supported him after his nightmare about the little girl and her dog. When she had listened to his tragic tale, had held him close as she reassured him that he was not a murderer, that she did not blame him for what had happened that night two years ago, did not believe he was a monster with the blood of innocents on his hands.

"Dr. Claudia," he said, "there is someone I feel comfortable talking about it with, and I've already done so. I told her everything that happened, and her comfort and support did a great deal to help me manage the pain and guilt."

It was true. While Heero still hadn't been able to bring himself to forgive himself for what had happened that terrible night two years ago, talking with Murrue, being held in her arms while she had expressed her belief that he was not a murderer, that he was a good man who had made a terrible mistake, had made living with the memories of the tragedy more bearable. He was still haunted by what had happened, but the nightmare, which had been a semi-regular occurrence during the Eve Wars and the beginnings of the new peace, had not visited him since that night they had been journeying through the Red Sea.

It's because of Murrue, he thought, I know that I can talk to her about what happened that night, about the pain and the guilt that I still carry from it, and she won't judge me for it, never would. She accepted what I did, believed that it was a mistake, and wanted to give me peace and solace, shelter from that nightmare. I know that she still does, would still be willing to if I asked… that means more to me than I could ever find words to express, and I'll never be able to truly repay her for it.

Claudia smiled at his words, and there was a hint of mischievousness to it. "You said 'her', Heero. I don't suppose you'll tell me just who the woman you're speaking of is?"

Heero shook his head. "No, sorry."

"It's alright, I understand," she replied, a knowing look in her eyes, "I'd wager it's the same woman you're fighting to protect, but I won't press the issue." She removed her hands from his shoulders, her smile softening as she did so. "Still, if you ever need someone else to share what happened with, another perspective, please do not hesitate to come see me."

Heero nodded before he turned around and started walking again, Claudia right behind him.

….

Murrue smiled as she watched Lieutenant Tsukino introduce herself one by one to the rest of the bridge crew. She seems more personable than Natarle, she thought, though her demeanor is disciplined and rigid, she's making more of an effort to be friendly. I think she'll be alright with us.

That being said, Murrue still wished she had her old Executive Officer. While it was true that Natarle's no-nonsense, by the book attitude had caused her to clash with Murrue on several occasions, the Captain knew that her former Lieutenant was an extremely competent officer in her own right, and while Murrue did not doubt Lieutenant Tsukino's abilities she knew that it would take the Orb officer time to truly acclimatize herself to the Archangel. Natarle, on the other hand, had already had most of the ship's features, major and otherwise, committed to memory even before the attack on Heliopolis, and her accrued experience with the new warship over the course of their journey meant that she had been well suited to helping Murrue lead the crew both in and out of battle. The Captain had also appreciated Natarle's willingness to argue with her to a degree, as it allowed her to see alternate viewpoints and to have a more complete picture when making her decisions. It was true that her more humane instincts would always win out over military regulations, but she had still taken her former XO's advice into consideration before issuing orders.

Natarle, she thought, wherever you are, I hope you're doing well. I can take some comfort in the fact that you left Alaska via the mass driver, meaning you're in space now and that there's no chance of us fighting against you when the Alliance invades Orb. We may not have always seen eye to eye, but I bear you no ill will; you were a superb second-in-command, and an excellent soldier. I'm glad I had the chance to serve with you.

As she looked on as Lieutenant Tsukino began familiarizing herself with her station down in the CIC she heard the familiar sound of the bridge doors opening behind her. Looking over her shoulder she smiled as she saw Heero come up to her chair. "Is Dr. Claudia settling in ok down in the med bay?"

Heero nodded. "Since the Archangel departed Heliopolis without a full medical staff compliment there's plenty of room in there for her to set up shop. I think she's going to convert one of the offices into a private interview room for when she starts seeing patients."

"That's good," said Murrue, "there's a few people on this ship that I think could use a good one-on-one session with her."

"Who'd you have in mind?" asked Heero.

She looked down at the CIC, where Miriallia was chatting with Sai. "Miriallia Haw for starters," she said quietly, "I know it's been almost two months since Tolle died, and she seems to be doing better, but I'm still a little worried about her. Kira's return did wonders for her emotional state, but I still think some time with Dr. Claudia would help her; I don't think she ever really talked about Tolle's death with the other Heliopolis students, though I'm sure they tried their best to comfort her."

"Will you order her to see the doctor?" asked Heero, "Or will you ask Dr. Claudia to approach her and invite her to the med bay for a talk?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet," said Murrue, "I might end up ordering Miriallia to see her. I've heard from the guards down in the brig that she's been visiting the prisoner on a regular basis, and while their chats have been friendly I'm worried about what talking to that young man might be doing to the wound in her heart; we did capture him in the same battle that Tolle died in, after all. However, the guards have reported that both Miriallia and the Buster's pilot seem to cheer up considerably when they talk to each other, so perhaps my fears are misplaced."

"Speaking of the prisoner," said Heero, "have you heard anything from the Orb government about transferring him back to ZAFT?"

"Only that they're having difficulty making an arraignment with the PLANT consulate," said Murrue, "apparently Lord Uzumi has asked repeatedly that they take the boy, but the PLANTs keep pressing for Orb to align with them rather than simply take the Buster's pilot back."

"That's stupid," said Heero, "Orb's trying to return an experienced pilot to them at no cost to ZAFT and they're wasting the opportunity by trying to press them into joining their own genocide campaign."

"I agree," said Murrue, "if this keeps up I'm sure the Orb government will allow the Buster's pilot to join the evacuation of the country's Coordinator minority. Granted, they might have him under surveillance since he won't be going back to his homeland, but it'll still be better than being locked away in our brig."

"What about the Buster?" asked Heero, "Has the Orb government expressed any interest in it?"

Murrue nodded. "We're handing it over to Morgenroete for study; we have no pilot for it, so it's just wasting space in our hangar."

"Maybe they'll be able to adapt the OS and find someone to fly it in time for the invasion," said Heero.

Murrue smiled. "That'd be a great help, no doubt about that. Ultimately that's their call though; we have no say in the matter."

"You're right," said Heero. He glanced down at the CIC, where Lieutenant Tsukino was running checks on the Archangel's weapons. "Do you think Lieutenant Tsukino is up to filling Badgiruel's shoes?"

"I think she'll be alright," Murrue replied, "She has prior experience in this sort of role, though the Archangel is a much larger ship than the destroyers she's served on in the past. It'll take some time for her to familiarize herself with its workings. Still, by the time the battle comes I think she'll have a solid handle on the ship's capabilities. The crew's another matter; it'll take her longer before she'll be able to know instinctively how to act with them on a personal level, at least when we're not in combat. Still, I think she'll settle in with them eventually. So far she's been very polite with them, so that's a good start."

Heero nodded before looking out the forward viewport, his expression thoughtful. "How do you think Badgiruel would react to the battles at Alaska?"

Murrue sighed. "I don't know, Heero. I'm sure she would take issue with our own actions in the first battle… but I don't think she would've approved High Command's decision to sacrifice us and the Eurasian Fleet just to destroy ZAFT's forces with the Cyclops system. Natarle's mindset is to follow orders and regulations no matter what, but she does have a conscience. I think she would've been shocked by the High Command's actions and outright horrified at our forces' conduct in the second battle; Natarle would never condone such a massacre."

"But she may well still serve those who issued those orders," said Heero quietly.

"Yes," Murrue replied, "despite their monstrous actions, the High Command is technically the lawful authority for all Atlantic Federation soldiers, and I don't know if Natarle could bring herself to openly defy their orders like we did. I'd like to think that ultimately her conscience would win out over her sense of duty, but… I don't know, Heero. All we can really do right now is hope that, wherever she is, we won't end up fighting against her, and that she won't be put in a position where she's ordered to carry out a massacre."

That would devastate her, Murrue thought, along with La Flaga. I can't begin to imagine how they must feel, knowing that they're now on the opposite side of the person they love.

The two of them were quiet after that, both caught up in their own thoughts. Eventually they were interrupted from their musings by the radio officer. "Captain," he said, "we have a message from Cagalli. She said she wants to meet with you down on the dock; she'll be there in five minutes."

I wonder what she wants, thought Murrue. "Alright," she said, "tell her I'll be waiting for her."

She then turned to Heero. "Well, care to join me?"

Heero nodded. "Sure."

The two of them left the bridge and made their way to the starboard hatch. As they exited the ship Murrue could see Cagalli approaching in the distance, wearing her usual red t-shirt and khaki pants. The Captain and the Gundam pilot descended the ramp and waited at the bottom as Cagalli came up to them.

"Thanks for meeting me Captain Ramius," said Cagalli. The blond tomboy then turned to Heero and smiled. "Hey, Heero. I guess I should've expected that you'd be with her." She then turned to Murrue, and the Captain thought she saw a knowing look in her eyes before the girl's expression became more serious.

Murrue looked at Heero out of the corner of her eye and then back to Cagalli, an odd thought running through her head. Does she suspect how I feel about him? It was certainly possible. Though Murrue hadn't outright stated her romantic feelings for Heero to anyone else other than La Flaga, she knew that she acted differently with him than other members of the crew, and that people like La Flaga would eventually notice. She was far more informal with Heero, and there were plenty of times where she had allowed a hint – or more than a hint – of her affections for the Gundam pilot to come to the surface even when they were in front of others. The fiery princess may have had a temper, but she was also intelligent and insightful when she wanted to be, and Murrue wouldn't have put it past her to notice something when she was in a calmer state of mind.

She put the musings out of her mind for the moment and focused on the reason why Cagalli was here. "It's no problem, Cagalli. Is there something you need from me?"

"Sort of," Cagalli replied, looking down for a moment, clearly trying to gather her thoughts.

Murrue smiled again in an effort to put the young lady at ease. "Cagalli, there's no need for nervousness or formality with me. After all we've been through since North Africa you don't need to hesitate if you need something from myself or the Archangel. Please, tell me what's on your mind."

Cagalli nodded. "Alright then… Captain Ramius, I'd like to join the crew of the Archangel again when the battle begins. I want to pilot the Skygrasper and fight with you guys to defend my country!"

Murrue was surprised at her request, and she saw Heero's eyes narrow a bit in response to the Orb princess's words. "With Orb's M1s now operational," he said, "along with the other mobile suits they've brought online, you could do a lot better than the Skygrasper as far as a fighting platform, and you could get those either from the military or Morgenroete. Why come to us?"

The proverbial light bulb clicked on in Murrue's head. "It's your father, isn't it? Lord Uzumi doesn't want you to take part in the battle."

"That's right, Captain," she replied, "My father wants me to remain in the command center with Kisaka and the generals to help coordinate our defenses with the fleet admirals, but I know he doesn't need me for that. It's true that I helped lead some of our actions while I was with the Desert Dawn, but a resistance group is very different from the Orb military. More importantly, I fought on the front lines with the Desert Dawn; I never sat back and issued orders from the rear. It's not what I'm good at; I'd be useless in coordinating our defenses, and my father knows that!"

"Cagalli," said Murrue, giving her a soft smile, "your father wants to protect you. He knows that the coming battle will be far more dangerous than any you've fought in before, and he's very much afraid that your participation will mean your death. He wants his daughter to be safe and removed from the fighting; any father would. Besides, you are not just his daughter; you're his successor, the heir to Orb's most powerful noble family. The governance of the nation and its future rests upon your family's shoulders, and your father wants to ensure that you will be alive to lead the country when the time comes."

"Safeguarding the line of succession is common sense for any nation," said Heero, "otherwise there's the very real possibility of internal conflict over the right to rule. Orb is a nation with only a limited democratic system; the ultimate power lies in the aristocracy. Therefore having a surviving blood family member is the key to a smooth transition of power. If you are lost in battle Orb's noble families will begin jockeying to position themselves as the future rulers of the nation; your father will not live forever, after all, nor will the brother he's using as a puppet ruler. If Orb is to survive beyond the Alliance invasion it must have a united ruling body; an internecine fight amongst the nobility could destroy the nation even if it wins the battle."

"But none of that matters if we lose that battle!" said Cagalli, "We need every fighter, every combatant we can get, and while I may not be as good a pilot as you or Kira I can still hold my own in a battle, and you know that! Plus I have prior experience with the Skygrasper, and with La Flaga now training on the Tallgeese Kai you have no one else with the necessary skills to pilot that fighter aboard the Archangel. I'm the natural choice, and you know that. Please, let me pilot it; let me fight!"

Murrue sighed, her thoughts conflicted. It was only due to Lord Uzumi's generosity that the Archangel had been allowed to enter Orb and take refuge there in the first place, and if the ruling aristocrat had forbidden his daughter from taking part in the coming battle then Murrue was uneasy in acting against that decision. She knew that Heero's points on protecting the line of succession and preventing infighting amongst the ruling families were valid; such a power struggle would weaken the country and make it even more vulnerable to foreign forces than it already was.

However, Murrue could not deny Cagalli's argument; she was experienced with the Skygrasper, having flown it in three battles, and with La Flaga having switched over to the Tallgeese Kai the jet fighter was now sitting idle in the Archangel's hangar bay. Of course, it would be no trouble for Murrue to contact the Orb military and request that they transfer one of their own fighter pilots over to man the aircraft, but they would still need time to acclimatize themselves to the plane and get a feel for how it handled when compared to their own jets.

There was logic in favor of both the girl's argument and her father's decision, but in the end it wasn't logic or rationale that helped Murrue make up her mind. It was the look in Cagalli's eyes; her two brown gems were filled with passion and desperation, and they were pleading with Murrue for the chance to let her fight, to let her fly to protect her friends, her family, and her country. It was unprofessional as Captain for Murrue to let herself be swayed by emotional appeals… but then again, much of her conduct throughout the Archangel's journey had been unprofessional, and yet it had allowed her to command her crew more effectively and helped her lead them through their perilous voyage. In the end, Murrue knew she was a woman that made her decisions with her heart; logic and reason were valuable aids, but in the end she acted on her emotions.

She glanced over at Heero again, a small smile on her face. Just like you, Heero… I think I may have embraced your own path for living even before we met. I certainly have over the course of our time together, and I'm not going to change that now.

Murrue returned her gaze to Cagalli and nodded. "Alright, Cagalli, I'll allow you to pilot the Skygrasper."

The girl's eyes widened as a big smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Captain Ramius! I promise I won't let you down!"

Murrue smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry about letting me down, Cagalli; with your bravery and determination I know you'll fight well. However, I want you to understand this now; you will not have free reign to do as you like. If you're going to fly the Archangel's last Skygrasper, you will do so under my orders. No breaking off and ignoring orders like you did during our passage through the Indian Ocean, understood?"

Cagalli nodded, her stance becoming a little more rigid, her facial expression more serious. "Yes, Captain; I promise I'll obey your orders."

"It's not just me you'll have to listen to," said Murrue, "depending on the situation, I may have you flying on La Flaga's or Kira's wing; if that happens, you'll be taking your cues from them."

"What about Heero, ma'am?" she asked, "I flew with him during that battle at Orb's border, and we worked well together."

"That's true," said Murrue, "but that battle will seem like a minor skirmish compared to the assault the Alliance will mount, and I want Heero to be able to fly without distractions… and that includes a wingman in this case. Please don't take offense at this, Cagalli, but you would only slow him down in the coming battle."

While Murrue still wanted to be able to support Heero, she knew that he had experience in fighting against such massive forces, and that he had done so in the past often without a partner of any kind. More to the point, though Cagalli's skills as a pilot were solid, her abilities were nowhere near Heero's league. If Cagalli flew with Heero into the thickest of the fighting – which Murrue had no doubt was where the Gundam pilot would head – the young man would doubtlessly end up worrying about the Orb princess and be unable to unleash his full piloting skills. I know those two have argued occasionally, she thought, but it's clear to me that they've also developed a kind of friendship, similar to the one Heero has with Kira. He would keep an eye on her during the fighting, and that sort of distraction could prove fatal given that Heero will likely engage the largest concentration of enemy forces he can find.

"Murrue's right," said Heero, "Cagalli, you're a good pilot, but you don't have the same kind of experience that I do. It's true that when you fought with us in the past the forces arrayed against us were always superior in numbers, but the coming battle will not be like those engagements. This will be a clash of fleets, air wings, and armies, and that's a very different animal from the fights you were in with us. I have experience with precisely that sort of thing though, and it's not just from the First Battle of Alaska."

Cagalli nodded, and Murrue was surprised to see her accept the Gundam pilot's words in a calm and dignified manner. "You're talking about the war you fought in your old world… I understand, Heero. I wish it were otherwise, but you're right; I don't have that same kind of experience." She then smiled slightly. "I may have been able to keep up with you in that battle at the border a few months ago, but I'm pretty sure that you were holding back then, as you no doubt have for most of your fights in our world."

She then turned back to Murrue. "Alright, Captain, I'll stick with Kira or La Flaga, or do whatever it is you order me to."

"Good," said Murrue, "also, I'd appreciate it if you could keep this little arraignment of ours to yourself; I'm pretty sure your father would not approve of it."

Cagalli smirked. "You're right there. He doesn't need to know until I'm already in the air; easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right? Do you think I could go to the hangar and get some practice in on the Skygrasper simulator? It has been awhile since I've flown that fighter after all, and I want to sharpen up my skills as much as I can before the battle."

"I think that's a good idea," said Murrue, "You can start right away."

"Great," said Cagalli, nodding. With that she turned and made her way up the gangway and into the ship.

Murrue and Heero remained on the dock. The Captain turned to the Gundam pilot. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It was your call," said Heero, "not mine."

"Come on, Heero," said Murrue, smiling, "give me something more than that."

He smiled slightly in return. "I think you did the right thing. It's true that Lord Uzumi has the right to refuse to allow his daughter to fight on both personal and political grounds, but Cagalli's an able pilot, and we'll need as many of those as we can get for the coming battle. Besides, I could see as well as you her desire to protect the people she cares about, along with her country. She has more than just the ability to fight; she has the will, and a reason."

"My thoughts exactly," said Murrue, "plus… well, I couldn't refuse her when I saw the passion with which she argued, her determination to fight. I think I acted on my emotions in my decision more than logic and rationale."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Murrue," Heero replied, that slight smile still on his face.

"No," said Murrue, nodding, "there's not. I know that's the philosophy you live by, and I think it's the right one. We can't just be ruled by cold logic and calculation; we have to decide with our hearts. Otherwise we're little more than machines, and human lives get reduced to mere numbers and statistics."

Like the Atlantic Federation High Command, she thought, of course, there's more to it than that. Their hatred of Coordinators is certainly not the result of cold logic and calculation; it's an emotional response. However, the way they so whole-heartedly embrace it and think nothing of sacrificing countless numbers of their own soldiers in order to fulfill a campaign of genocide is nothing less than the vilest of evils. It's almost as if they've taken the philosophy that Heero and I live by and have so horribly corrupted it as to be unrecognizable. The emotion they act on is hate, and when logic and calculation are mixed with it the result is twisting an army and a nation for the sole purpose of the greatest act of mass-murder in human history.

"Murrue," said Heero, breaking her out of her thoughts, "are you alright?"

Murrue realized that she had tensed considerably during her internal monologue; her brow was furrowed in concentration, her stance was stiff, and her hands had become balled into fists. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before smiling at the Perfect Soldier, who had a concerned look in his eyes. "I'm ok, Heero. I just… got a little wrapped up in my thoughts there for a moment."

Heero nodded in understanding. "Come on; let's get back aboard the ship."

"Right," said Murrue, "I should return to my post."

As they headed up the gangway Murrue unconsciously found herself sidling up to Heero and taking his hand in hers. The Gundam pilot looked at her and smiled slightly, and though Murrue blushed a little upon realizing what she had unknowingly done she did not let go, and in fact gave his hand a squeeze.

If I keep thinking about the Alliance or ZAFT's campaigns I'm only going to get myself worked up. That's not healthy for me, especially not now, and it might cause Heero to worry; he's a very perceptive young man. I don't want to distract him; he needs to focus just as much as I do.

She was still grateful for his concern though, yet another sign of the compassion that lay beneath Heero's calm and cool demeanor. Murrue smiled as she glanced from Heero to the blue stone of the necklace he had given her months ago during their time in North Africa. She had worn in proudly since the day he had given it to her, even in settings where it might have been wise to hide such a thing, like the meetings with Orb's leadership or the debriefing with the Atlantic Federation High Command. Such a little thing, she thought, but it's become a symbol to me; a token of his selflessness. He always puts others before himself, especially me… when we get some time together, when we don't have a massive battle looming on the horizon, I want to return the favor. It's the least I can do for him… and he's earned a great deal more than that. So much more…

….

"It's already been five days," said Vice-Admiral Vickers, leaning back in his chair, "With all due respect, Lord Azrael, at this point I do not think Orb will accede to our demands. There hardly seems to be any point in waiting for the final two days to go by."

The two men were sitting in the main conference room of the Pacific Fleet HQ at Pearl Harbor. It consisted of a large circular metal table in the middle of the room, with a large screen along the far wall, which currently displayed a map of the Pacific theatre of the war.

"I never expected Uzumi to bow to our will in the first place," said Azrael, "he's a stubborn and arrogant man, and I imagine those traits have grown considerably with the arrival of the Archangel and its mobile suits in his country. He probably thinks we can't touch him now."

"He's in for a harsh lesson then," said Vickers, "one that I do not believe we should delay in giving him. We should set sail at once, my lord; all the ships of the armada have arrived, and all the new mobile suits have been loaded onto the carriers and transport planes. We're ready to attack."

"Our fleet is ready, true enough," said Azrael, "but it is not the only armada that will be launching against Orb. The Chistaya Partiya Krovi is in the final stages of its preparations for their coup d'état; they will make their move at midnight tonight. They will need these last two days to take and consolidate power in Moscow and the wider Eurasian Federation, and to prepare their own fleet for the coming invasion."

"My lord," said Vickers, "the Eurasian's offensive fleets were all but wiped out at Alaska. The handful of ships that managed to escape will hardly be of any help to us in our invasion, nor are they needed."

"Their offensive fleets were destroyed at Alaska," said Azrael, smirking, "but their home fleet remains intact, and the CPK has pledged its full support for our invasion of Orb."

"I thought they would be using that fleet in the Mediterranean for the landings in North Africa once Rear-Admiral Bernard begins his invasion of the continent," said Vickers, raising an eyebrow.

"Only a single task force will take part in that operation," said Azrael, "the bulk of the Eurasians' contribution will be several of their reserve divisions invading through the Caucasus and Asia Minor. That will leave plenty of ships for them to send to aid our offensive. Their carriers will not be outfitted with mobile suits, true, but the sheer numbers of planes they carry will still be an asset for our attack."

"Can we count on the CPK to commit the fleet?" asked Vickers, unable to completely hide his skepticism despite knowing he ran the risk of earning Azrael's wrath, "It is their last naval defensive force, after all; they would be loath to leave their homeland defenseless."

"It is a gamble that the CPK knows is necessary to make in order for us to win this war," said Azrael, smiling, "the current government in Moscow lacks the will needed to take such a risk, but our comrades in the CPK have the necessary backbone and daring. You needn't concern yourself with the Eurasians, Vice-Admiral; I can assure you that their forces will be ready. They will not be able to join us in time for the initial assault, unfortunately, but they will make it shortly afterward, and they will be the guarantee of our victory over Orb. Even with the Archangel, Wing Zero, and that new mobile suit, Uzumi's forces will be unable to withstand the fleets arrayed against him. Even if they are not defeated in the first round, they will be worn down sooner or later, and when they have expended the last of their energy we will finish them off."

Vickers nodded, the Vice-Admiral's doubts put at ease for the most part. However, there was still one lingering concern in the back of his mind. "What about… those three? Will they be ready in time for the invasion; they'll be an important part of our spearhead, after all."

"You're referring to the Biological CPUs?" asked Azrael, raising an eyebrow.

The Vice-Admiral nodded. "Forgive me, my lord, but I have concerns about their reliability in a combined arms operation; their psychological profiles made several mentions of instability. I understand that the three machines are ready; would it not be easier to rewrite the OS and have three veteran pilots fly them instead of those… things?"

"The Biological CPUs are our secret weapon in our fight against the Coordinators," said Azrael, "and they've been training extensively with the Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider for quite some time now. They're the best pilots we have, and certainly the most qualified to fly those three machines."

"But I need soldiers that will follow orders," said Vickers, "and those three boys have a flagrant disrespect for any authority!"

"They respect my authority," said Azrael, his eyes narrowing, "and they will be operating under my direct orders in any case; you need not concern yourself with them, Vice-Admiral."

The Vice-Admiral felt otherwise, though he would not say so in front of Azrael. The senior officer had supported the Biological CPU program, and had full faith in the concept, but the three pilots that had been drawn from the operation to pilot the second generation GAT-series prototypes were another matter.

The Biological CPU Program, which was also referred to as the Extended Institution, was a joint venture between OMNI Enforcer and Blue Cosmos. Its purpose was to modify humans on biochemical and mental levels so that they could achieve the same efficiency in battle as the hated Coordinators. It was not a volunteer program; the only 'candidates' had entered it as children, the vast majority of whom were war orphans or just urchins nabbed off the streets. No one cared about them, and no one would miss them; they were the perfect test subjects.

Despite the fact that the project was based upon altering humans, it had not meant the same vehement opposition that the creation of the Coordinators themselves had elicited from Blue Cosmos. The given and accepted excuse for this was that they were altering humans that had already been born rather than still in the womb, and that the modifications were not genetic but biochemical and mental. To an outside observer the whole enterprise would still stink to high heaven of hypocrisy, but true believers like Vickers and Azrael saw no such philosophical or ethical issues with the program. There was also no concern given for the test subjects. The children and adolescents involved in the project were expendable, and in any case those that died did so for the noblest of goals; destroying the Coordinators and advancing the human race as a whole.

The three subjects that had been selected as pilots for the second generation GAT-series prototypes were part of what was referred to as the First Stage Biological CPUs. In another sense, people like Vickers and Azrael viewed them as proof-of-concept prototypes, units to be used, tested, and refined in order to arrive at a production model. In addition to their physical modifications and alterations to their brain chemistry, the First Stage Biological CPUs had undergone an extreme program of mental conditioning designed to erase their sense of fear and instill a hyper-aggressive mentality in combat.

A key ingredient in turning these once-normal humans into super soldiers capable of matching the Coordinators in combat was the drug called Gamma Glipheptin. While it generated the boost in mental processing power and reaction speeds needed to match Coordinators, the drug was a highly experimental cocktail, and had severe drawbacks. For starters, its duration was brief, and the performance enhancements it provided barely lasted long enough for the pilots to fight in standard tactical engagements; prolonged combat was not possible. As the performance boosters wore off the pilots would begin exhibiting withdrawal symptoms which would quickly escalate into crippling seizures, incapacitating the pilots. The violent withdrawals had the potential to be fatal if new doses of Gamma Glipheptin were not administered quickly, leaving the pilots utterly dependent on the drug. This was not a downside to Vice-Admiral Vickers or his like-minded comrades though; quite the opposite, in fact. The Biological CPUs addiction to the drug would ensure their loyalty; after all, without it they would die in short order.

The Vice-Admiral did want the duration of the drug to be expanded to allow for longer combat sorties by the pilots, and he knew that research into the matter was already underway. A new concoction would by no means be ready in time for the invasion of Orb, and he doubted that one would be viable by the end of the war, but it didn't matter to him. Prolonging the drug's effects was in the end a matter of curiosity for him; it would have its applications in the future, but for now there was little point in concerning himself with it.

There were other downsides to the Biological CPUs that did warrant his concern, though. The main one was the decrease in the pilots' mental stability, causing them to act with little regard to discipline in battle. They were less trained soldiers and more like loose cannons, and though their knack for violence was a useful tool, it was also one that had proven difficult to harness and direct in training exercises. They had little respect for concepts like chain-of-command, combined arms tactics, and keeping formation; once let loose on a battlefield, their only concerns were destruction and proving their superiority to their fellow pilots, to the point that a vicious rivalry had developed between them.

The only authority they'll obey without question is Lord Azrael, fumed Vickers, they'll completely disregard any orders I give them, meaning the lord must be present at every engagement they fight in. This exposes him to danger, all the more so with menaces like Wing Zero and that new model mobile suit running amok.

There was little Vickers could do about that problem for the time being though; he needed the Biological CPUs for the invasion of Orb, thus necessitating Lord Azrael's presence on the battlefield. Of course Azrael himself had no complaints on the matter; having three super-soldiers utterly loyal to him was a major boost to his ego, not to mention the fact that he personally wanted to witness the conquest of Orb and the destruction of the Coordinator lovers.

He nodded at his leader. "I understand, my lord."

"Good," said Azrael, "in any case they will not be operating aboard your flagship; they'll be with me on the carrier Powell, while you'll be commanding from the Clinton."

Any vessel with Lord Azrael on it will automatically be viewed as a flagship itself, Vickers thought ruefully, this will complicate the chain of command. Any orders I issue from the Clinton will have to be routed through the Powell for Azrael's approval; it's inefficient!

Still, there was no choice but to go through with it; it was the plan Azrael had come up with and decided upon. The only benefit from it was that the fleet would not lose both its leaders if one ship was destroyed, though the loss of Lord Azrael would be a much bigger blow to the Atlantic Federation as a whole than the death of the Vice-Admiral.

There was little chance of either flagship being destroyed in Vickers' eye though; both would be towards the rear of the fleet, with Azrael's ship the furthest back and under the heaviest possible protection. Vickers' carrier would be closer to the front, but even then there was little chance of it being destroyed by enemy action. Not even Wing Zero will be able to penetrate that far into the fleet's lines, he thought with supreme confidence, the force we've amassed surpasses any other in history, including ZAFT's Operation Spitbreak armada; our overwhelming power will neutralize Wing Zero long before it can threaten either flagship!

Wing Zero had been designated as a top priority target, along with the new model mobile suit that had shown up at Alaska. Lord Azrael had made it clear that he wanted both units captured, though if that proved impossible he would settle for their destruction. The two machines had demonstrated their true power quite clearly at Alaska, and Vickers could not deny his desire to get his hands on the units, a feeling shared by Azrael and the high echelons of Blue Cosmos.

However, there was another target that was rated as even more important than Wing Zero and the new mobile suit, and this one had to be captured at all costs; the Kaguya mass driver.

It was an objective that Azrael had been sure to remind Vickers of at every opportunity, and he did so again now. "Vice-Admiral, our loss of the Panama mass driver is already having an effect on our forces. The shipyards at L2 and the moon are now relying solely on resources from our colonies and asteroid mining operations to continue their work, and the construction of the new fleets is suffering as a result. We need to reestablish a connection with outer space as soon as possible, and Orb holds one of the keys to doing so."

He looked Vickers in the eye as he continued. "We need the Kaguya facility, Vickers. Above all else, your primary concern in the coming operation is to capture Orb's mass driver intact." Azrael then smiled wickedly. "In fact, you could say that your own survival is tied to that of the mass driver. Do you understand where I'm going with this, Vice-Admiral?"

All too well, he thought grimly, the gunshot wound on his right shoulder aching as memories of that humiliating meeting after the First Battle of Alaska surfaced in his mind.

He nodded. "I take your meaning perfectly, Lord Azrael. I promise you that the Kaguya mass driver will be captured."

"Good," said Azrael. The leader of Blue Cosmos then turned to the map displayed on the screen, studying it thoughtfully. "Orb has a large population of Coordinators residing within it. We'll need to hunt them down as soon as we've secured the country; we cannot let such an infestation remain to taint our pure and blue world."

"Agreed," said Vickers, "the CIA has already begun compiling lists of known Coordinators living in Orb; they will be running the cleansing operation as soon as we've taken the nation. Special hunter units are already being prepared as we speak; they'll lead the regular forces in flushing out the rats and dealing with them."

Azrael grinned. "Excellent. I trust they are preparing similar measures for our African campaign?"

"I believe so," said Vickers, "though you would have to speak to Rear-Admiral Bernard; you did make Africa his responsibility, after all."

"True," Azrael replied, "I'll contact him later on then."

The Blue Cosmos leader then pressed a button on the keypad built into the table, and the image on the screen changed from the map to schematics of three unique mobile suits, along with pictures of their pilots. He smiled as data on the machines and the Biological CPUs began scrolling under the images.

"The second generation GAT prototypes and our super-soldiers," he said, "our invasion of Orb will be the perfect final proving ground for them. The data we collect from the battle should help us iron out more of the trouble spots in the program; perhaps we'll finally be able to go into a limited production run."

"Regardless of that, the feedback we receive from our pets will prove useful," said Vickers, smirking, "and with this war ravaging the planet we don't lack for sources of new candidates. The Lodonia facility's latest sweep was particularly successful; our supply of test subjects now surpasses five-hundred."

"That's good news," said Azrael, "especially considering the rate at which we run through them."

"We're on the cutting edge of human advancement," Vickers noted, "the experiments for the biochemical and mental enhancements run outside normal scientific conventions; a high mortality rate was inevitable given the risks involved in the program."

"Losses do not matter," Azrael replied, "so long as the final products meet our needs. You're not going soft on me, are you Vice-Admiral?"

"Hardly," Vickers replied, "the subjects were little more than gutter rats when we picked them up; their prior existences scarcely counted as lives. The Extended Institution will give these rejects purpose, and if they are not strong enough to survive the enhancement project, that just means they're not worthy of the honor we're bestowing upon them. Their sacrifices will mean mankind's survival and advancement as we spread our dominion across the stars."

The fates of the children and adolescents picked up by the program really did mean nothing to the Vice-Admiral. To them they were the same as any tool or weapon; they were to be tested and used until they were no longer fit, then discarded. The sentiments were echoed by his fellow officers on the High Command, along with both the higher echelons and the rank-and-file of Blue-Cosmos. The program's body count, which had already surpassed the two-thousand mark when it had crossed its one year anniversary, was irrelevant; if millions of the pathetic street urchins and war orphans had to die in order to produce a perfect super-soldier, then so be it. What mattered was the end result; ethics and morality were for the weak, and they had no place in the war that raged across the Earth Sphere.

Azrael nodded in agreement with Vickers' words. "Precisely, Vice-Admiral. Our predecessors were unwilling to make such sacrifices, which is why the Coordinator threat has been allowed to grow, why those abominations were able to gather enough strength to wage war against us in the first place. We have spent years trying to correct their failures, and only now are we on the verge of doing precisely that. The old expression remains as true now as it did centuries ago; 'one cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.' If we have to kill a few thousand adolescents in order to create the super-soldiers that will spearhead our new offensive against the Coordinators, then so be it; it's a very small price to pay for such a grand goal."

Azrael then stood up and walked over to the conference room window, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked out at the setting sun. "We are fast approaching the final stage of this conflict," he said, "it is now only a matter of time before our cleansing fire purges the Earth Sphere of the abominations mankind so foolishly created at the start of this era. We will rectify our past mistakes, and once we've exterminated the last of the Coordinators we can once again focus on expanding the greatness of humanity. We will push further out into the solar system and surpass the exploits of the first Coordinator; our new explorations will put George Glenn to shame. Pure, untainted humans will be the ones to conquer the final frontier… and Blue Cosmos will lead the way."

….

His hands clasped behind his back as he looked out at the setting sun, Lord Uzumi let out a sigh. Six full days had passed since the Alliance had delivered its ultimatum to Orb, and the seventh was drawing to a close all too quickly.

My reply to their demands was as adamant as it was final, thought the Lion of Orb as he watched the orange-red light of the sunset reflect off the ocean surface in the distance, creating the marvelous vista that he had come to love observing at the end of his work days, and they were no doubt what Azrael expected. He spent the whole week building up his fleet, and the Alliance forces didn't even try to shoot down our recon drones as they entered Hawaii's airspace. The Atlantic Federation wanted us to see the armada they have amassed to attack our country, of that I am certain. Their hubris grows by the day… and they have every right to be so confident.

The hourly intelligence reports he received were sobering to say the least. The force that the Atlantic Federation was amassing to invade Orb surpassed even ZAFT's Operation Spitbreak armada, and with the new mobile suits they had developed their advantages were multiplied considerably. Lord Uzumi had every confidence in his own military, but against the might of the Earth Alliance his own fleets and armies seemed wholly inadequate for the monumental task of defending their country against the coming onslaught.

Still, the Lion of Orb was nowhere near ready to throw in the towel, and would not change his mind in the final hours before the deadline passed; Orb would never submit to a foreign power under his rule, whether it be the Alliance or ZAFT. More importantly, he would not allow his nation's resources to be utilized for the greatest organized campaigns of mass-murder since the Second World War, and he would die before becoming an accessory to such atrocities. Orb would stand and fight against the evil that was posed to consume it; there would be no surrender, no subjugation.

Lord Uzumi knew that his stance, and that of his supporters, would put his own people in considerable danger, and his government was already acting to preserve the safety of the people. Shuttle flights were launching from the Kaguya mass driver hourly, taking the nation's considerable Coordinator minority to outer space. Thousands had already been evacuated, but there were still so many left in the country, and the Lion of Orb was afraid that not all of them would make it out of the nation before the battle began. Orb's Natural citizens were beginning to evacuate as well, though with time still left before the passing of the deadline the exodus had been a slow one, with the majority reluctant to leave their homeland. Lord Uzumi knew that that reluctance would vanish once the Atlantic Federation made their official declaration of war the next day; a confirmed threat was much more intimidating and motivating than a potential one.

His mind was assailed by his fears for the future of his people. Would those that chose not to evacuate survive should the Alliance forces occupy Orb? Would the Coordinator minority be able to completely evacuate before the invasion began? Would any members of the nobility turn traitor in an attempt to preserve their own position and ingratiate themselves with the Atlantic Federation leadership? Would Orb itself survive the war, or would its territory simply be absorbed into the Alliance, its culture and ideals lost forever?

Most importantly of all, what would become of Cagalli? Would she be able to survive in a world where her homeland no longer existed, where the ideals she so dearly believed in counted for nothing?

The shadow has fallen across the world, he mused grimly, the few scattered flames of hope, of the desire for true peace, are in danger of being extinguished one by one. The days have gone down in Orb… and the night that follows may prove to be eternal.

"How," he said quietly to himself, "how did it come to this?"

"You speak as though the game is already up," said a familiar voice behind him.

Lord Uzumi chuckled and turned to see Kisaka standing in front of his desk. "And you seem to have forgotten your manners, Colonel… or is it now routine for soldiers to enter the office of their Commander-in-Chief without announcing themselves?"

"If I recall correctly," said Kisaka, smirking, "you said that I had free run of this place."

"True," Uzumi replied, "that slipped my mind… other concerns occupy it for the moment."

"Understandable, my lord," said Kisaka, bowing his head.

"What brings you here, Colonel?" asked Uzumi.

"Status updates from Engineer Simmons, among other things," the Colonel replied, "Unfortunately for us, the Strike Rouge will not be ready in time for the battle; they're having issues with the new batteries and the upgraded thrusters, along with the improved Aile-pack."

"Have her continue to work on it for as long as she can, and then load it onto the Kusanagi," said Uzumi, "we'll need that unit operational in the future, especially if the battle goes ill."

"Understood, sir," said Kisaka.

"Any other news from Morgenroete's brightest?" asked Uzumi.

"Yes," he replied, "Engineer Simmons has finalized the plans for the Akatsuki, and will send you a copy of them later this evening. Per your instructions, construction of the unit will begin once the war is over… though I still don't quite understand why we did not build it already; a unit like that would be a major boost to our capabilities in the coming battle."

"That is true," said Uzumi, "but I want that unit to serve as an ace in the hole for the next conflict Orb finds itself in… Cagalli's ace in the hole. Should the worst come to pass it will be my legacy for her, my final gift as her father. I've already recorded an audio testament and sent it to Engineer Simmons; it will be installed in the unit once it is built and activated should the unfortunate day comes that Cagalli has need of its power… and I am no longer there to help her."

"Very well, sir," said Kisaka, nodding, "I won't press the matter any further."

Uzumi closed his eyes for a moment before looking at Kisaka again. "Kisaka, has Cagalli been asking to be allowed to fight on the front lines lately?"

"No sir," said Kisaka, "she's been strangely quiet on the matter for the past few days."

"Which means she's up to something," Uzumi chuckled, "she's normally feisty and bold, but she can be sneaky if she puts her mind to it. Please continue to keep an eye on her for me, Kisaka."

"Of course, sir," said Kisaka, smiling slightly, "she seems to be spending most of her time down at the Archangel; I imagine she's been in the company of Kira Yamato and Heero Yuy."

"It's good for her to be spending time with people her own age," said Uzumi, "she has had so few real opportunities to do so in her life… still, I have my concerns. Wing Zero's pilot is calm, professional, and rational; the kind of personality Cagalli so easily clashes with. As for Kira Yamato… well, you already know about that, Kisaka."

Kisaka nodded. "I understand your concerns, sir, though I don't think you should be worried. Kira and Cagalli seem to view each other as good friends, nothing more. As for Heero Yuy, I think being around someone like him is good for your daughter; his cooler nature may help her learn to better control her temper. In fact, I believe it already has, if her attitude since our first encounter with the Archangel back in North Africa is any indication."

"True," said Uzumi, smiling, "she has become a little more level headed… though she still has a long way to go if she is going to succeed me in the future."

"She'll be ready when the time comes," said Kisaka, "Cagalli is strong willed, and she cares deeply for our people; she will serve Orb well when she is called to take the reins."

"I believe you, Kisaka," sighed Uzumi, "however, I fear that that day may come far sooner that we would like it to. I do not wish to cast doubts upon our ability to triumph in the coming battle, but someone in my position must always be prepared for the worst… something Cagalli does not understand."

"She's young and optimistic," replied Kisaka, "It's to be expected. Still… should the worst come to pass, I'll do all I can to help her assume the mantle of leadership."

"Thank you, my friend," said Uzumi, "that is all I can ask of you. Thank you for watching over her, both now and in the future."

Kisaka bowed his head. "Think nothing of it, my lord. Protecting Cagalli has been an honor and a privilege, and I will be glad to continue carrying out that duty for as long as you would ask of me."

"A task I'm sure she won't make easy for you," said Uzumi, smirking slightly. He then became serious again. "Was there something else you wished to discuss?"

Kisaka nodded. "Regarding your earlier proposal… I've given it some thought, and have come to the conclusion that it would be a mistake. The boy's disciplined, a true combat professional, but he's also independent and unpredictable. More importantly, giving him forces to command may actually hinder his fighting abilities, as he will be unable to completely focus on just attacking the enemy. In short, officially integrating Heero Yuy into the Orb military, at least in a command position, would not work, at least not for the coming battle."

"Are you sure?" asked Uzumi, "His name and accomplishments have already spread throughout the militaries of the Earth Sphere, and our own forces are no exception. The mention of something like 'Colonel Heero Yuy' could do a great deal for the morale of our forces, and I think the young man would make for a capable field commander."

"I have no doubt of that," said Kisaka, "but Yuy's true strength lies in his abilities as a single combatant, in his capability to deal tremendous damage to the enemy with little or no support. Even giving him a single squadron to lead would slow him down; none of our pilots would be able to keep up with him, even with the new Aries mobile suits. The only pilots on our side that would be able to coordinate and fight effectively with him are Kira Yamato and Mu La Flaga, and they like Yuy will be operating under the aegis of the Archangel."

Kisaka then chuckled before continuing. "More to the point, I believe he would refuse any such offer of rank that we put forward, regardless of any power or privileges that came with it. Yuy is determined to fight for the Archangel; nothing else matters to him. Giving him rank within the Orb military would be meaningless; I doubt we could even talk him into wearing our nation's uniform."

Uzumi nodded. "Independent, defiant, determined, and deadly… I suppose that combination would make him unsuited to official integration with our armed forces. Still, we need some way to coordinate with him, at least so our own forces don't get caught in his line of fire. Any thoughts on that, Colonel Kisaka?"

"Just one," he replied, "find the largest concentration of firepower in the Atlantic Federation's armada, and then ask him to attack it. The enemy will no doubt deploy across a wide front, but the center of their fleet will still have the largest amounts of heavy warships, not to mention a considerable amount of mobile suits. We can use Wing Zero as the spear, having him hit the enemy forces head on, while the Archangel and our own units attack the wings of the armada, along with the forces that bypass Yuy and move in to attack us. They'll also coordinate with our ground forces in order to defend the coastline. Some enemy units making it ashore is inevitable, but we do have a shot at limiting how many are able to do so, and isolating and destroying them."

"So," said Uzumi, "we essentially have Wing Zero hit the bulk of the enemy fleet head on and stay the hell out of Yuy's way? That's certainly a… straightforward strategy."

"Given the sheer size of the enemy fleet," said Kisaka, "it won't be quite that simple… it's just the best way to limit the chances of friendly fire. Yuy is an incredibly skilled pilot, but he would still be forced to hold back if our own forces were mixed up with the enemy he was trying to engage. In this battle, we don't want that; we need Wing Zero to have free reign to cut loose. Even with Yuy tying up a considerable amount of Alliance resources there will still be plenty of enemy ships and mobile suits for the rest of our forces to worry about."

"Very well," said Lord Uzumi, nodding, "I'll leave it to you and the top brass to hammer out the details and present your plan at the briefing once we've determined the final composition of the enemy forces. I'll invite Captain Ramius and her pilots to join so they can coordinate their own strategy with that of our military."

"Will Cagalli be attending as well?" asked Kisaka.

Lord Uzumi nodded. "When she becomes the head of state she will have to chair briefings such as the upcoming one eventually, so it will be a good experience for her. Besides, I'm confident she will want to attend it anyway, and that anything you or I might do in order to prevent her from doing that would not work. She is a stubborn girl, but she truly cares for our people; I imagine she will feel an obligation to attend and contribute whatever she can."

"I'll let her know when the time comes," said Kisaka.

"Thank you," said Uzumi. He then turned and looked back out the window, pondering what the future would be like for his country… assuming it had a future in this world. With the forces arrayed against it, the odds of Orb's survival as a sovereign nation-state were low to say the least… but the Lion of Orb had not given up on his country just yet.

We never wished to be part of this war, he thought, his eyes narrowing, but if the Alliance wants a fight, then they will get one!

….

Leaning back in his chair, Yzak sighed as he looked out the lounge window at the tarmac. It was early evening, and the silver-haired pilot could see dusk setting in over the Carpentaria spaceport and base. The young man had arrived at the facility with Field Marshall Creuset earlier in the day, but their shuttle flight had been delayed due to mechanical problems. Now the young man was waiting for news as to whether or not the craft would be departing at all in the near future, or if he would be stuck at Carpentaria for the foreseeable future.

The Field Marshall himself had gone off to make a call to the capital, though he hadn't specified the details. Yzak assumed that Creuset would be speaking to the Supreme Chairman; from what little bits of info his masked superior had dropped, he and Patrick Zala had been in practically daily contact. The Field Marshall had not given Yzak a reason as to why they had been recalled to outer space, leaving the young man to ponder the question on his own. He had not felt comfortable in attempting to press his commanding officer for details… in fact, he had become increasingly uneasy around Creuset since the battle at Panama.

No, the young man mentally corrected, not battle, slaughter. I mean, I suppose the first part was a fight… but definitely not the second. That was complete barbarism, a massacre of men and women that had surrendered and thrown down their weapons… and the Field Marshall just let it happen! No… he was practically encouraging it! Why?

The young man noticed his reflection in the window, and saw the rings around his eyes, the small shadows that had grown around them. Yzak had not slept well since the events of Panama, unable to go for more than a couple hours a night before waking up in a cold sweat, the imagined screams of the dying and the silhouettes of those that had been gunned down without pity or remorse still fresh in his mind.

I should've done something, he thought, a guilt like he'd never felt before that battle weighing down on him, I know the Field Marshall all but threatened to kill me if I'd interfered, but that shouldn't have mattered; I shouldn't have been afraid to die acting to stop that slaughter. It didn't matter that they were Naturals; they were human beings, damn it! I could've at least tried to save them, I could've disabled a few of the GINNs before the Field Marshall took me down… but I did nothing. I left those people there to die, did nothing to stop my own side from committing that atrocity… just so I could live. Some soldier I am… I'm a damn coward.

He gripped the edges of his seat, frustrated and angry over his shameful withdrawal, despairing for the lives that had been so brutally and pointlessly cut short. We should be better than this… I should be better than this! What's happening to ZAFT? Why did our soldiers act that way, and why didn't the Field Marshall rein them in?

"Excuse me," said a voice, soft and clearly female, "are you alright?"

Yzak looked up to see a girl that had become an increasingly familiar, if odd sight over the past week. She was in her mid-teens, probably Nicol's age, with light skin, light blue-gray eyes, and long flowing red hair. She wore the standard green uniform of the ZAFT forces, and Yzak had first encountered her in the cafeteria aboard the Vespucci a few days after Operation Spitbreak. Strangely enough though, he could not recall having ever encountered the girl on the submarine/carrier before the battle, and while the Vosgulov-class vessel was certainly large the odds of him having never encountered her during all his time spent aboard the ship prior to the battle were all but nonexistent. It was even stranger because the girl was actually quite attractive, with her uniform being snug in all the right places, accentuating a slender yet curvy figure that a young man like Yzak would not easily forget. He'd asked Creuset about the girl, but had only received the reply that she was one of his aides, a particularly odd statement considering that the then-Commander had never been in the presence of an aide throughout the voyage from Kaoshiung to Alaska.

The girl's demeanor in and of itself was another oddity. For starters, she didn't carry herself like a soldier, or for that matter like she even belonged on the Vespucci. She seemed to go out of her way to avoid making eye contact with any of the ship's crew, and the few times Yzak had seen her look his way or at another soldier she had been either afraid, edgy, mildly hostile, or strangely curious. More to the point, the one time he had seen her in the company of the Field Marshal she had seemed to be torn between terror, loathing, and resignation, an odd combination of emotions if Yzak had ever seen one. She never addressed Creuset, and had done all she could to avoid meeting his gaze. For a supposed aide, to say that her behavior was strange was a considerable understatement.

Her sudden approach had caught Yzak off guard, and as he looked at her he was surprised to see that she looked genuinely concerned. Granted, there was still a considerable amount of nervousness in the way she carried herself, that strange sense of fear and unease that he had noticed in her before, but those feelings seemed to be subordinate to actual worry, and not for herself.

Though Yzak was taken aback by the girl's sudden willingness to initiate a conversation, he didn't want to be rude to her, so he simply leaned back in his chair and nodded. "I'm alright. I just haven't been sleeping well the past few days, so I'm a little tired."

The girl nodded. "I see. I guess… I can kind of relate to that."

Yzak realized that her words were not far from the mark; on closer inspection he could see faint rings and shadow around her eyes, just like those around his. Why? She's not a direct combatant, so she wouldn't have to watch people die firsthand. Did someone she know die? What keeps her up at night?

Then another stray thought flashed though his mind; he didn't even know the girl's name.

Giving his head a slight shake in an effort to dispel some of the weariness and despair hanging over him, he held out his hand. "I'm Yzak Joule."

The girl seemed to freeze for a moment as she stared at his hand. Yzak was puzzled by her reaction, the stiffening of her body, and wondered if he had somehow acted inappropriately. He was about to withdraw his hand when the girl tentatively reached out and shook it. Her grip was weak, and as Yzak took her slender hand he felt it tremble slightly. Her skin was soft and cool to the touch, and for some reason it made Yzak think of the girl in front of him as a distressed damsel rather than a fellow soldier.

"My name… is Flay Allster," she said quietly.

Allster, he thought, I've heard that name before, but where? He felt like he should know it, but the reason for that remained just beyond his grasp. After a moment he decided not to worry about it; if it was important, it would come back to him eventually.

He patted the seat next to him. "Want to sit down? I'm not sure how much longer we'll be here; no point standing around the whole time, especially if you're tired."

The red-head nodded and sat down. She kept her hands in her lap, and seemed determined to keep a respectful distance from him. Once again Yzak felt as though there was a hint of animosity in the way she regarded him, but at the same time there was also curiosity in her expression.

There was an awkward silence between them for a few seconds before Flay spoke. "Uhm, Mr. Joule… what happened to your face? How did you get that scar?"

It was a question Yzak had received plenty of times in the past few months; the scar he had received during one of his early battles with the Strike was quite prominent, running from above his left eye across his face diagonally down to his right cheek. He didn't mind the inquiries, though the nervousness with which people asked him that question might make one think otherwise. It was natural after all; it did make him look more intimidating.

"I got it in a fight with the Strike a few months ago," he said.

Flay gasped, and Yzak saw her eyes widen in shock. "You fought Ki… you fought against the Strike?"

She had stopped herself from saying something else, and Yzak realized that she knew something that he had been wanting the answer to for quite some time; the identity of the Strike's pilot. This set off alarm bells in his head, and he reacted instantly. "Hang on, what were you about to say? You knew the Strike's pilot, didn't you?"

Flay's demeanor changed instantly, and Yzak was surprised to see her light blue-gray eyes narrow, a fierce intensity in them. "Did you… did you destroy the Strike?" Her voice was a menacing hiss, a mixture of suspicion and barely contained anger.

Yzak shook his head. "No. I fought against it several times, but it always beat me. Now tell me, what do you know?" He raised his voice. "What are you hiding? Answer me!"

The girl shrunk back in her seat, the sudden strength that had taken hold of her evaporating, turning into fear and sorrow. "I… I can't… I won't!"

"You have to!" said Yzak, grabbing her by the shoulders, "You knew the Strike's pilot, I know you did! Tell me his name!"

"No!" she shrieked, trying to push away from him. However, her efforts seemed incredibly weak, and Yzak had no trouble keeping his grip. Her pitiful resistance set off additional alarms in his head; a fellow Coordinator would've been much stronger. Then the pieces suddenly fell into place.

She's a Natural!, he thought, his eyes widening in shock, Her name, Allster… that was the name of the Atlantic Federation's Vice-Foreign Minister… the one who died in that first battle Wing Zero showed up in. She must be his daughter!

Another thing that had been bothering Yzak for awhile suddenly made sense; why he had not seen her aboard the Vespucci prior to Operation Spitbreak. During the battle he had seen then-Commander Creuset's DINN Mk. II fly into the Alaska base, though he'd only briefly glimpsed it in the midst of the raging dogfight he had been in at the time. Later on in the engagement he had seen the mobile suit leave the base and make for the Vespucci without bothering to engage the enemy. Creuset must've taken the girl prisoner while he was inside the base, he thought, but… why? More importantly, why did he give her one of our uniforms? He's treating her more like a guest than a prisoner… what the hell's going on?

He became so caught up in his thoughts that he forgot to focus on the girl, and his grip weakened enough for Flay to finally get loose. She managed to stand up before Yzak collected himself and moved to grab her again.

"Leave me alone!" she cried, raising her hand to slap him.

With his superior strength and reflexes it took little effort for Yzak to catch the incoming blow. "Tell me who the Strike's pilot was!" he said.

There was silence for a moment as the girl struggled to break free of his grasp. Then Yzak suddenly felt her arm go limp, like the fight had suddenly gone out of her. Flay looked down at the floor, her demeanor that of a girl consumed by grief and despair. "Please," she said, her voice a small, pitiful whimper, "let me go… I can't talk about it… about him." She then looked up at him, and Yzak was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. "Please…"

Yzak didn't know why, but he suddenly felt ashamed of his actions, like he had just done something terrible. After a moment's hesitation he nodded and let go of her hand. The two of them stood there in silence, neither able to move.

Yzak looked down at the floor. "I… I'm sorry I grabbed you like that," he said quietly; apologies came difficultly to the proud young man, but for some reason he knew he owed the girl one.

As he looked up he briefly met Flay's gaze, and the red-headed beauty gave him a small nod. She then moved away from him, sitting down in a row of chairs opposite of where Yzak's spot was. The ZAFT pilot remained standing for a moment before taking his own seat, his gaze alternating between the floor and the girl across from him.

He then heard footsteps approaching, and he saw Field Marshall Creuset coming up to them, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The masked ace smiled at the two teenagers. "Ah, I see the two of you have finally become acquainted. Is everything alright, Yzak?"

The young man nodded, knowing it would be pointless to ask the questions that were whirling through his mind; there was no way he'd get a straight answer from Creuset. "Yes sir," he said, "no problems."

"Good," Creuset replied, "grab your things; our shuttle is now ready to leave. You too, Miss Allster."

The girl nodded and walked over towards the window to grab a duffel bag that was lying next to it. Yzak reached beneath his seat to grab his own bag, and the two teenagers moved to join the masked Field Marshal as he headed for the exit. Yzak was surprised to see Flay doing her best to keep him between herself and Creuset; even with what had happened just moments ago between them, she was apparently less afraid of him than she was of the Field Marshall.

What's the link between those two?, Yzak thought, Why did he enter the Alaska base and return with her? I know she's the daughter of the late Atlantic Federation Vice-Foreign Minister, but she doesn't seem to be particularly valuable in her own right… no, not valuable as a strategic resource in this war. She had value as a human being, whether she be Natural or Coordinator; Panama had gone a long way towards removing Yzak's disdain for Naturals.

As they exited the building and made their way across the tarmac towards their shuttle, Yzak made sure to keep Flay within his line of sight… and to make sure he stayed between her and Creuset. It was strange, but regardless of his suspicions of the girl he also felt the desire to keep her safe. Again, the recent battle at Panama played a considerable influence on his actions; he had seen how his own side was now willing to treat unarmed Naturals, and if any other ZAFT soldiers realized that there was one in their midst, Flay would be marked for death… or worse. She was helpless, a stranger in hostile territory, and to make matters worse she was physically much weaker than everyone around her; she was incredibly vulnerable. Yzak would do all he could to keep her safe. He knew in part he was doing it in a pathetic attempt to atone for his inaction at Panama, his inability to save the unarmed men and women who had been mercilessly gunned down by his comrades. Trying to save one life could never make up for the thousands that had perished in that atrocity… still, he would do his best to help Flay stay alive, regardless of how meaningless the effort might be in the grand scheme of things.

There was also the fact that he no longer trusted Field Marshall Creuset, and that went double with regards to Flay. Yzak's admiration in ZAFT's legendary masked ace had been completely destroyed after his commanding officer had allowed the slaughter of surrendering soldiers to go on unchecked under his watch. He no longer respected Creuset, no longer trusted him. He still was aware of his capabilities as a pilot and a leader, and would not underestimate him, but now his view of the man who he had once looked up to as a source of inspiration was through the lenses of suspicion.

What are you planning?, thought Yzak as they boarded the shuttle, glaring at Creuset out of the corner of his eye, Why bring the daughter of a late enemy official into ZAFT? Why allow our forces to commit war crimes? Why are we going back to space with Flay in tow? What's your end game, Field Marshall?

….

As she came out onto the Archangel's observation deck behind the bridge Murrue was greeted by a familiar sight; Heero Yuy, dressed in the usual tank-top and shorts, running through a morning practice routine with his saber. Murrue smiled as she watched the Gundam pilot execute a series of swift slashes before transitioning into a sequence of blocks and parries. His blade work reminded her of the way he fought with Wing Zero; his moves were efficient, precise, and brutal. The young man's brow was furrowed in concentration as he weaved the metal blade through the air, but Murrue was sure he was aware of her presence.

This is something I never get tired of seeing, Murrue thought as she looked on, I'm no expert when it comes to sword fighting, but even I can tell that his skill is top tier. Hell, if I'm not mistaken I think he's doing even better now than the last time I watched him, though of course it's hard for me to tell; every time I watch him practice with his saber I'm always amazed, and now is no different. It wouldn't surprise me if he has improved; with the way he focuses on a task, he can excel at whatever he sets his mind to.

Murrue felt her face warm slightly as she gazed at the young man who had captured her heart. Heero's tank-top and shorts gave a clear view at his toned figure, a body that had been through what she had no doubt had been an utterly brutal training regimen as he had prepared for Operation Meteor, to be a Gundam pilot. His frame was rather slender for a young man's, but there was no doubting that it was all muscle, and she could see it at work in front of her. Heero's form was relaxed, but not lethargic; on the contrary, Murrue could almost feel the energy pumping through the young man's veins as he continued his work out. There was a fierce intensity about him; he was ever alert, ever vigilant, while at the same time completely focused on the task before him.

She could see the sweat matting his brow, and Murrue knew that Heero was putting a lot of effort into his practice session. As she watched him she felt her gaze zooming in on his Prussian blue eyes, had a calm yet intense feel to them, hinting at the energy that lay beneath the surface. I wonder, she thought, is this what he looks like when he's fighting a skilled opponent like the Valkyrie? I mean, when I've spoken to him during battles over the monitor his eyes had a similar look to them as they do now, but I've never dared to contact him when he's fighting enemy elites.

Murrue looked on as Heero continued his solo fight, thinking about all the young man had done on her behalf, and how she had slowly but inexorably fallen in love with him due in no small part to it. After a few more minutes the Gundam pilot wound down his practice session until he finally allowed the blade to come to a stop, pointing it down at the deck. He then looked over at Murrue and gave her a slight smile as he sheathed the saber.

"Good morning," he said as she approached him, "did you sleep well, Murrue?"

Murrue smiled. "Yes, thank you for asking. It seems strange though now that I think about it; the Atlantic Federation's deadline for Orb's declaration of allegiance passed last night. I should've felt more nervous, should've been more restless. I guess it's because I knew it was inevitable, and that there was no point in worrying about it more than I already have."

"You're probably right," said Heero, nodding, "by the way, do you know how many members of the crew will be staying with the Archangel?"

Murrue's smile grew bigger as she answered. "It's incredible… only twelve people decided to leave the ship! They're packing up now; I thought I'd see them off personally, just so they'd know for sure that I didn't hold their decision against them. I… I have to admit, I expected that more would want out, that few if any of them would be willing to join us in the coming fight."

"Something you said must've reached them, convinced them that staying on, fighting to defend Orb and find a way to end this war was the right thing to do," Heero replied, his eyes meeting hers, "Now they'll be fighting not just because they're ordered to, but because they want to; they have a reason beyond military discipline and duty to fight. It's probably different for each of them… but your speech no doubt helped them find it."

Her face warmed slightly at his praise. "Maybe… though I'd like to think that they made up their minds without any interference from me."

"It's not interference," said Heero, grabbing her hand, "It's inspiration. As Captain one of your responsibilities is to motivate your crew, and you've done an incredible job of that throughout our voyage. Your address to them was a perfect example of that; it helped them realize that there was more at stake now than there had been before, and that they could help make a difference and save countless lives. Your speech did influence their decision, and that's not a bad thing; it's something you should be proud of, Murrue."

Murrue smiled. "Thank you, Heero."

Heero nodded. "You're welcome, Murrue."

She was content just to keep looking into his eyes for a moment, to feel the calm strength and the belief in her that radiated from them. To know that an incredible soldier like Heero had such confidence in her abilities was an amazing feeling, a morale boost like no other.

Eventually Murrue broke the silence between them. "So, what are your plans today, Heero?"

"Engineer Simmons wants me to help with the latest flight exercises for the Tallgeese Kai in a little while,' he replied, "La Flaga's managed to get the hang of that machine in an incredibly short amount of time, but he still hasn't completely mastered the mobile suit's extreme acceleration and maneuverability yet." He then wiped a hand across his brow in an attempt to remove some of the sweat. "I should probably shower before she comes by to pick me up."

"Indeed," said Murrue, her smile becoming a little playful, "you did work up quite a sweat during your exercise."

Heero nodded. "Yeah. I'd better get going. I'll be back around the same time as usual, so we can grab dinner together again later."

"That's great," said Murrue, "I'm looking forward to it."

….

Kuzzey sighed and looked down at the floor rather than face Sai, Miriallia, and Kira. He had decided to leave the Archangel because he felt like he wasn't making a meaningful contribution to the ship's operations, and because he just wasn't really cut out for military life. It had felt like the right decision for him on a personal level, but he still felt bad about leaving his friends behind.

Standing there in the middle of the hallway, the young man didn't know what to say to his fellow surviving students from Heliopolis. He missed Tolle, and wished the cheerful and confident young man was here now so he could get his own input on the situation. He knew that Tolle would never have left the ship, especially since Miriallia had decided to stay, which made Kuzzey feel even more like he was abandoning his friends. Still, he had made up his mind and had already informed the Captain of his decision; it was too late for him to turn back now.

"I'm… I'm sorry guys," he said after a moment.

He looked up as Sai put a hand on his shoulder. "Kuzzey, you've got nothing to apologize for," he said, smiling, "you did your part, just like the rest of us. If you don't feel that you really belong on the Archangel, then you have every right to leave. None of us will hold it against you, and the Captain said she wouldn't either."

"Yeah," said Kuzzey, "but still… you guys are staying, and you were just students like me before the war came to Heliopolis."

"We found our own personal reasons to keep fighting," said Miriallia, "we have stakes in this war… but you don't, Kuzzey, and there's nothing wrong with that." She smiled at him. "Besides, I'm sure your family has been worried about you all this time; they'll be overjoyed when you rejoin them."

"Miriallia's right," said Kira, "Kuzzey, you've done more than enough fighting, and you don't feel the same way about staying on board the Archangel as we do; that's fine." He smiled. "We all wish you the best of luck, and I hope that wherever you and your family go it's far away from any fighting."

Kuzzey couldn't help but return his friends' smiles, the weight that had been on his shoulders lightening considerably. "Alright… thanks guys. Take care of yourselves, ok?"

"We will," said Sai, "and you do the same."

"Yeah," said Miriallia, "good luck, Kuzzey."

"Tell your family we all said hi," said Kira.

He nodded. "I will. You guys had better come back alive, you got that? I want to hear all about what you guys did to end this war once it's all over."

They all grinned. "You got it," said Kira.

….

"Hello, Miss Haw," said Dr. Claudia, smiling, "please, sit down."

Miriallia nodded as she entered the small office the Archangel's new counselor officer had set up shop in. It was just to the right of the med bay, and normally would've been used by another doctor to study up on crew medical files, but since the ship was still understaffed in that department it was available, and Dr. Claudia had taken up residence there. Looking around, Miriallia saw that there was a small desk with a computer on it, a file cabinet in the corner, and three chairs. One was behind the desk, while the other two were in front of it. The lovely doctor was sitting in one of the latter chairs, and motioned for Miriallia to take the other.

As the teenage girl sat down she found herself wondering again why she had agreed to see the counselor officer. Captain Ramius had broached the subject during a brief encounter in the hallway, saying that it might be good for Miriallia to visit Dr. Claudia and talk with her a bit. It had been shortly after the girl had made up her mind to stay aboard the Archangel, and Miriallia could not deny that there were a few things she needed to get off her chest… subjects she didn't quite feel comfortable talking about with her friends. Still, she wasn't sure where to start, and wondered if she had made a mistake in coming to see the counselor, that she would only be wasting Claudia's time.

She fidgeted nervously in her chair, prompting Dr. Claudia to speak. "Miss Haw, please, try to relax. I promise that whatever we discuss in here will not go beyond these walls; you have my word." Her voice was soft and gentle, and it gave her words a comforting effect that Miriallia very much needed.

"It's not that," Miriallia replied, "I just… there's so much that's happened since we came to Earth… it's all kind of overwhelming when I actually stop and think about it."

Dr. Claudia nodded. "You've all been through a great deal of hardship… and you in particular have suffered terribly. I've read your file, Miss Haw… I know that you lost someone very dear to you."

"Yes…" said Miriallia softly, struggling for a moment to keep her composure, "my… my boyfriend, Tolle… he was flying one of the ship's fighters during a ZAFT attack. I know he was doing that because he wanted to protect me, even though I told him not to, to stay on the bridge with me, but he still volunteered to become a pilot. He… he died during our battle in the Marshall Islands. That… that was over a month ago… almost two months now, I think."

"Would you still consider yourself to be in mourning?" asked Dr. Claudia.

"I… I think so…" said Miriallia, "I… I miss him so much. I've lost count of how many times I've expected to suddenly run into him in the halls, or in the mess, or on the bridge. It's like I can feel him… we spent so much time together on this ship that it feels like his memory has become imprinted on it; I can't go anywhere on the Archangel and not find something that reminds me of Tolle."

"That's only natural," the counselor replied, "When we lose someone we love, we feel as though an important part of us has been torn from our heart and soul. In that pain, that agony, we cling desperately to the memories of the one we lost, and when we're in a place that we spent a great deal of time with the one we loved, we cannot help but expect to see them there, for them to be there like nothing had happened."

Miriallia nodded, impressed by Dr. Claudia's insight into her thoughts. The girl knew that, as a counselor, she would of course have had an advanced education in human psychology, but she was still surprised at just how well she understood her situation.

"Miss Haw," Dr. Claudia continued, "in light of all that, why did you choose to stay aboard the Archangel? Certainly you must've known that no one would've held it against you had you decided to leave and evacuate with you family, especially in light of the death of the young man you loved. So… why remain?"

"I… it's hard to explain," she replied, "I mean… it's not just one reason, now that I think about it."

"Is there one that you would consider more important than the others?" asked the counselor.

The images of her friends flashed through her mind… followed by that of the Coordinator down in the brig. "Well… one of my friends did decide to leave, but the others were willing to stay. I didn't want to abandon them."

Dr. Claudia smiled. "You have a strong bond with them. What else kept you from leaving?"

Miriallia sighed. "After Tolle died in the Marshall Islands… we took one of the enemy pilots captive. At that time, I was a mess, torn by grief, sorrow… and anger. Our prisoner was a Coordinator, of course, and even though I knew Kira was a Coordinator as well… I couldn't stand the thought of our prisoner still being alive while Tolle had died… and at the time, I thought Kira had died as well."

"I read about the incident in the med bay in your file," said Dr. Claudia, "you attacked the prisoner when he was in for an exam, and Heero stopped you. Shortly after that, though, you placed yourself between the prisoner and another friend of yours, one who was pointing a gun at the young man. So…why the sudden change from wanting to kill the prisoner to risking your life to protect him?"

Miriallia gave the counselor a soft smile. "When Heero stopped me, he said that I wasn't a killer, and that Tolle wouldn't want me to become one. I realized that he was right, and my anger just… faded. I remembered something Tolle had said back when we were students at Heliopolis, when we found out that Kira was a Coordinator. Tolle said that it didn't matter to him that Kira was a Coordinator; he was our friend, and his genes didn't matter. I realized it was the same for Dearka… the prisoner… in a way. He may not have been our friend… but he was still a human being, and it didn't matter if he was Natural or Coordinator. Killing him would've been the worst possible way I could've chosen to honor Tolle's memory. So instead I chose to protect him. I don't regret my decision, and wouldn't have even if it had cost me my life; it was the right thing to do, and Tolle would've done the same thing."

"I'm sure he would've been proud of you," said Dr. Claudia.

Miriallia nodded. "I'd like to think so. Anyway, as we continued on our journey, with the war escalating around us, I started talking to Dearka down in the brig. I found out that he wasn't really all that different from us, just like Kira. And after Alaska… well, we all realized just how far the Alliance would go to kill people like Kira and Dearka, just because they were born different. In hindsight, I suppose we all should've come to that conclusion a long time ago; this war did start off with a nuclear strike against a Coordinator colony, after all."

Dr. Claudia nodded. "All too true, Miss Haw. So, would it be safe to say that part of the reason you chose to stay was to help end this war, and to create a world where Naturals and Coordinators could live together in peace?"

"I guess so," she replied, "I know it sounds silly of me to think that; I mean, all I do is help coordinate the Archangel' mobile suits, fighter, and mobile armors from the bridge. It's not like I play a major role in all this, unlike Captain Ramius, Heero, or Kira… but I still wanted to help in any way I can."

"I don't think that's silly at all," said the counselor, "and no matter how small you believe your role in all this is, the fact that you have chosen to keep fighting in that role speaks volumes of your character. Regardless of how insignificant our individual parts may seem in the grand scheme of things, together those small parts can become something profound; a force for good that none of the hate-filled powers that wish to continue escalate war could ever hope to match."

Miriallia's eyes widened in surprise. "I… I never thought of it that way."

Dr. Claudia laughed softly. "You've had a lot on your mind, far too much to be able to really ponder such things. I wouldn't worry about it too much if I were you." Her expression then became more serious. "Now that you have made up your mind to stay aboard the Archangel, you must do all you can in your role to help the others bring this war to an end. In choosing to stay, that is a responsibility you have taken upon yourself; is it one you are prepared to bear?"

Miriallia nodded. "I am. Kira and the others made the same commitment; I can't do any less, especially if I want to help them."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Dr. Claudia, "We'll all need that same level of commitment and dedication if we're going to have a chance at surviving the coming battle, not to mention bring this foolish war to an end that doesn't involve mass-murder."

"Do you think it's even possible?" asked Miriallia, "I mean, I don't want to sound pessimistic, but…"

"With the way the conflict has escalated since Alaska, is a peaceful resolution truly possible?" the counselor finished for her, "That's a very good question, Miss Haw. I wish I could give you a clear answer; alas, I cannot. All we can do now is fight, and hope that somehow cooler heads will prevail in the end."

Miriallia nodded. "I guess you're right."

"There's one more thing I'd like to discuss with you, Miss Haw," said Dr. Claudia, "Regarding that young man down in the brig, Dearka. You are aware that he will be released before this ship goes into battle, correct?"

"I am," Miriallia replied.

"How do you feel about that?" the blond woman asked, "As you said earlier, he was captured in the same battle that Tolle lost his life in. He was your enemy, trying to kill you and your friends. Also, if I understand correctly, you have developed a sort of friendship with him in the time since the incident in the sickbay. You must have mixed feelings about his impending release."

Miriallia nodded. "I do. I mean, I don't hold it against him that he's a ZAFT soldier, nor that he was fighting against us; he was just doing his duty, the same as Tolle and I were."

"So you have no residual hard feelings towards Dearka regarding the battle in the Marshall Islands," said Dr. Claudia, "What about your other feelings towards him? According to reports from the guards down in the brig, the two of you have become quite friendly, and your respective demeanors and attitudes brighten up considerably when you talk to each other."

Miriallia looked down for a moment. Truth be told, she was well aware of what the counselor officer was speaking of; she had become friends with Dearka. She liked him as a person, as a fellow teenager… and now that she thought about it, she realized she might just like him a little more than just that.

"It's… hard to say," she replied, "I mean, once he's off the ship Orb will make sure he's taken to safety; since he's a Coordinator the Atlantic Federation will want to kill him after all. So no matter what happens, at least I know he'll be alive. But at the same time… I'm a little worried. I mean, I don't know where he'll be going, not to mention his homeland is the PLANTs, while mine's Orb… I don't know if I'll ever see him again once he leaves."

Dr. Claudia gave her a soft, knowing smile. "Miss Haw… you like him, don't you?"

The way she said 'like' left Miriallia with little doubt as to what kind of 'like' the counselor officer was referring to.

The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and she struggled to come up with a reply. "Well… that is… I mean, he's not a bad guy. He's actually pretty nice once you get to know him. I mean… I enjoy talking to him, and he's friendly, but… I… we've only known each other for a little over a month or so. Besides…Tolle died literally the day before I actually met Dearka. I… I can't like him!"

"The lady doth protest too much," said Dr. Claudia, "Miss Haw, considering how flustered you are now, I believe you may be deluding yourself."

"But it's wrong!" said Miriallia, "It has to be!"

"Why?" asked Dr. Claudia, "Is it because he's a Coordinator?"

Miriallia shook her head fervently. "That's not it at all! I would've loved Tolle even if he had been a Coordinator; how he was born has nothing to do with this!"

"Then what does?" the counselor pressed, "Miss Haw, there's something about your feelings that clearly troubles you. Please, tell me… and let me try to help you."

Miriallia sighed. "It's just… like I said; Tolle dies right before I met Dearka. I mean, he's only been gone a month and a half, two months at the most. I… I'm still mourning him… so I can't already be developing feelings for someone else. It… it…"

"It would be a betrayal of Tolle?" Dr. Claudia finished for her.

Miriallia nodded. "I… how could I do something like that? I loved Tolle with all my heart… how could I begin to like another boy so soon after his death?"

"I may have an answer to that," said Dr. Claudia, "First of all, think of the circumstances you two live in now; nearly the entire world is in a state of war. Death could come at any time, whether it be the next hour, the next day, the next week, or the next month. In such an environment, our emotions and feelings do not behave the same way that they do in peacetime."

"I understand that," Miriallia replied, "but still… it can't be so soon. It… it's like I'm betraying him!"

"I believe you are mistaken in that, Miss Haw," said the counselor, "Tell me something; when the two of you were together, when you were in love, what did you want more than anything else?"

"That's easy," said Miriallia, "we wanted to be happy. It wasn't just about our own happiness either; we wanted each other to be happy, and I would do anything to bring joy to Tolle's heart… as he would for me."

Dr. Claudia nodded, her smile becoming nostalgic and… bittersweet. "Miss Haw, believe it or not, I've been in your position. I was in a happy, loving relationship years ago, only for the man I cared so dearly for to be cruelly taken from me. I know how it feels to have loved and lost. I mourned for quite some time before I came to a realization, one that helped me to truly get back on my feet and live my life again."

"What was it?" asked Miriallia.

"The same thing you just told me," Dr. Claudia replied, "the people we love want us to be happy no matter what… and I realized that that meant whether or not they were still with us. I knew the man I loved would've wanted me to move on with my life. Not forget him, of course; that I could never do. I still remember him fondly, but my heart is open to the prospect of falling in love again, and I know that, wherever he is now, he would not hold that against me. It's true that I did not face the same feelings towards someone else that you are now so soon after his death, but if I had I am sure he would've understood perfectly."

"So… if I did like Dearka," said Miriallia tentatively, "I… I wouldn't be betraying Tolle?"

The counselor officer shook her head. "Not at all, Miss Haw. Remember Tolle fondly, but do not close your heart off to the possibility of a new affection, especially if it is for someone that makes you happy… which by all accounts, Dearka seems to be."

Miriallia nodded slowly. "Alright, Dr. Claudia… though I don't know for sure that I feel that way about him… at least not yet."

Dr. Claudia laughed a little at that. "Of course, Miss Haw. You should take time to examine your feelings… but as you said, once he is released you may never see him again. You should figure out some way for the two of you to stay in touch, especially if you wish to meet again someday."

Miriallia smiled slightly at her words. "I will." She then stood up. "Thank you, Dr. Claudia. This… this really helped. My mind feels a lot clearer now; I think I have a better handle on where to go from here."

"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Haw," she replied, nodding.

"I should get going," said Miriallia, "oh, and doctor? You can just call me Miriallia."

The counselor officer smiled. "In that case, take care, Miriallia. Please, if you need to talk again, do not hesitate to come to me."

"I won't," she replied, "see you later, Dr. Claudia, and thanks again."

….

"Everyone, please settle down," said Waltfeld, "We've got a lot to go over, and not much time to do it."

The Desert Tiger was standing near the far wall in the living room of the lower middle-class apartment that was being used as the site for the day's meeting. Besides Aisha and himself, present were Lacus and her father, Adaline, Lan, and Priscilla, and several low-to mid level officials from varying government ministries that were sympathetic to the moderates' cause. There were quite a few people in the room that Waltfeld was meeting for the first time face-to-face, many of them having been recommended to him by the former Supreme Council Chairman. All in all there were twenty people crammed into the living room… more than Waltfeld was comfortable with, and not just because of personal space issues. DaCosta and several of his former subordinates from the North Africa Corps were keeping a lookout, dressed in plain-clothes and scattered around the apartment complex and down on the street below. They were all armed with pistols and submachine guns hidden beneath their jackets, though if they had to actually use their weapons Waltfeld knew that meant the situation had gone from bad to worse very quickly.

Zala's internal security apparatus, he mused grimly, grows tighter and more paranoid by the day. According to Eric, he's turned one of Military Intelligence's divisions into his own secret police, and that they've also co-opted several civilian law-enforcement departments into their efforts. I've been seeing more and more plain-clothes agents in the capital with each passing day... it's getting ridiculous. What is this, Aprilius One in the year C.E. 71, or Berlin in the Second World War? Then again, considering the agenda of the ruling party… I suppose this sort of escalation on the home front was inevitable. It's not quite as bad as what's going on down on the surface though… at least, not yet.

The PLANTs, particularly the capital colony, had changed considerably since the launching and aftermath of Operation Spitbreak. In the name of 'preserving the safety and stability of the homeland' the Supreme Council had enacted a series of sweeping emergency laws, each more draconian than the last. As always, they were opposed by Councilors Eileen Canaver and Yuri Amalfi, the last two moderates in the ruling body, but the radical supermajority meant that their efforts to halt the new measures were to no avail, and in the end were little more than symbolic gestures.

At least Eileen Canaver is able to give us some advance notice of what's coming down the pipeline, thought Waltfeld. The representative for the September City colonies had become the political equivalent of Eric Bristow; a spy in the upper echelons. While Eric was able to give them advanced intelligence on military developments, Canaver was able to do the same with regards to the civilian government and domestic policy.

In response to the theft of the Freedom and the Clyne family's subsequent evasion of the authorities, a series of new laws giving broad powers to the security forces had been enacted. Warrantless wiretapping, increased photo and audio surveillance, the power to hold people indefinitely without charge or the right to counsel, the severe limiting of freedom of assembly, shutting down several papers and news networks with columnists and analysts critical of the government… and that was just the small stuff.

The amount of arrests recorded in the PLANTs had quadrupled in the past week alone. According to both Canaver and Bristow, the majority of said arrests were either of people who had defied the new censorship laws and spoken out against the war… or Naturals that were still living in the PLANTs. The latter were not even charged with any crimes, simply rounded up like Shemei's parents had been and thrown into cells. For those sweeps, the police always came in the middle of the night, and the arrests were never mentioned in any official reports or statements. The only colony clusters in which there was some defense for Naturals still living in the PLANTs were the September and Maius Cities, where moderates still held sway over local governance. There Councilors Canaver and Amalfi were able to use what little power they had left to help the Naturals living under their protection go underground or flee the PLANTs all together; for the latter, the neutral Kingdom of Scandinavia was a popular destination.

According to Bristow, he thought grimly, the radicals are already beginning to run out of holding facilities for everyone they've taken, and Zala's having freighters converted into prison ships for the overflow. Damn… how did it come to this so quickly?

Waltfeld sighed as he turned his attention back to the people gathered around the room. He was surprised to see one of the newcomers edging towards the door. "Hey, where are you going…Avery, was it?"

The blond man looked over at Waltfeld. "Sorry, it's just… I'm a little claustrophobic, and with how crammed the room is… I'm not feeling too well. Mind if I step out for some air?"

"Go ahead, Avery," said Siegel Clyne, smiling, "someone will fill you in later on what you missed."

The man nodded and left the room. There was something about his demeanor that didn't feel right to Waltfeld, and he was uneasy over letting him leave. Avery seemed to be nervous, and something about the way he had held himself had Waltfeld's instincts on edge. Still, the Chairman was the leader of their group, and the Desert Tiger wasn't about to countermand him in front of everyone else. Hopefully I'm just being paranoid, he thought, all this sneaking around, jumping at shadows… damn, I hate this. Give me a field command any day; I prefer a straight fight to running around and looking over my shoulder every other minute.

"Andy," said Aisha quietly, touching his right arm, "you ok? You seem a little on edge."

Waltfeld shook his head and smiled slightly at his lover. "It's nothing, Aisha. Don't worry."

She returned the smile and kissed his cheek. "Alright. Better start talking now; everyone's waiting on you."

The Desert Tiger nodded. "Right." He then turned to everyone else in the room. "There's a lot of new information coming in from Source One, some of it pretty big. It seems that both sides are making moves to even further escalate the war, and we're running out of time to counteract them."

'Source One' was the codename for Bristow. Only a select few people including Waltfeld, Aisha, the Valkyrie Team, Councilor Canaver, Lacus, and her father new that the Field Marshal was working as their mole in the Defense Council. None of the newcomers in the room knew of Source One's real identity; Waltfeld wanted to take every possible precaution to protect his friend and keep him in a position where he could get access to vital intelligence.

"What's going on, Mister Waltfeld?" asked Lacus, "What's the news from Source One?"

Waltfeld turned to the songstress, and he had to keep the concern from his face as he saw the weariness in her face. To her credit, the young girl had not once complained about her new life on the run with Waltfeld and Aisha, but the Desert Tiger knew it was wearing on her. According to Aisha, who had taken it upon herself to see to Lacus's well being while her father worked to coordinate the growing opposition movement, the young lady wasn't sleeping well, and had become understandably nervous as she'd tried to adjust to living as fugitive, always looking over her shoulder.

Despite all the stress she was under, Lacus had been determined to do all she could to help the moderate faction in its struggle to stop the radicals from turning the war into a massive genocide campaign. Several times now she had delivered broadcasts to the people, with DaCosta and his men using their gear to pirate radio and television signals to get her messages of peace and reconciliation out. Her father may have been the political leader of the moderates, with Waltfeld and Bristow the top military experts, but Lacus had become the heart and face of the movement. Her speeches and songs never failed to captivate an audience, regardless of how briefly they were played before the government managed to kill the feed. DaCosta and his men were playing a dangerous cat-and-mouse game with the radicals by helping her continue broadcasting, and Waltfeld was proud to see how quickly his former aide and second-in-command had adapted to his new role as Lacus's go-to guy for tech support and personal security, and that he still managed to have time to act as Waltfeld's assistant as well..

I always knew you had it in you, DaCosta, he thought, hell, were things different I'd imagine you'd make one hell of a good Commander, or even Field Marshal eventually. As it is, I'm glad you were willing to join our little resistance movement. I owe you one.

He sighed as he answered Lacus's question. "Nothing good, that much is clear. Activity in the shipyards and mobile suit production facilities has increased ten-fold in the past few weeks. Zala's undertaking a massive fleet buildup, and the dock crews are working overtime to meet his demands. The ADB's new frontline mobile suit, the GuAIZ, is now in a limited-production run, with the units being assigned to team commanders and the surviving Special Operations Squadrons. It's not at the point where it can be mass produced yet; most of the factory lines are still tooled for building GINNs. Still, its presence in our space forces is increasing considerably."

"What about the surface forces?" asked Priscilla, "What's going on down on Earth?"

"Things have been quiet on our end since Panama," he replied, "the only odd thing to report is the withdrawal of Silber Team from Africa; now all the surviving Special Operations Squadrons are back in outer space. Also, Field Marshal Creuset was called back to the PLANTs as well, though the reasons are unclear at this time."

"What about the Alliance?" asked Adaline. The red-headed young woman was leaning against a wall, peeking through the blinds of the apartment's only window, furtively scanning for signs of activity.

"That's another matter," said Waltfeld, "the Alliance has been busy to say the least. The Atlantic Federation's fleets are massing for two separate invasions; one in Orb, the other in Africa."

"Orb?" said Siegel Clyne, his eyes widening in surprise, "Why? That nation is still neutral, is it not? The Atlantic Federation would just be wasting resources launching an assault against them."

"The loss of the Panama spaceport has made them desperate, Mr. Clyne," said Aisha, "The Atlantic Federation has lost its ability to move large quantities of troops and material from Earth to space, and they need to regain control of a mass driver in order to regain that critical access."

Waltfeld nodded. "Aisha's right, sir. That's why they're preparing to invade both Orb and Africa; both areas have functioning mass drivers. Also, there are other reasons why Orb in particular is being targeted."

"Such as?" asked Lan.

"First off," the Tiger said grimly, "it's no secret that Orb has a sizeable minority population of Coordinators, and considering the fact that Blue Cosmos now leads the Atlantic Federation in all but name… well, they no doubt see such an enclave as a threat, and will kill any Coordinators they find in Orb, along with those who attempt to shelter them."

"How monstrous…" said Lacus softly.

"Agreed," said Waltfeld, "as for the other reason, according to Source One intelligence has finally tracked down where the Archangel went after the First Battle of Alaska; its destination was Orb."

"After that ship's escape from Alaska," said Priscilla, "combined with how Heero completely wiped out the base… I guess it's no surprise that the Alliance would be willing to invade Orb to get them."

"Indeed," said Waltfeld, nodding, "that's why the armada the Atlantic Federation has assembled for the invasion of Orb is in fact larger than the one they'll be sending against ZAFT forces in Africa; they know full well what the Archangel and its mobile suits can do… especially Wing Zero. Heero alone will be able to do a considerable amount of damage to any invasion fleet…" The Desert Tiger chuckled grimly. "I feel sorry for the soldiers that have to go up against him… Azrael's just begging for a bloodbath with this invasion. Even if he wins, the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet will take extremely heavy losses."

"A high price to pay just to take a mass driver," said Lan.

"As I said before," replied Waltfeld, "they're desperate to get a mass driver, whether it be in Africa or Orb. They'll go to any lengths to capture one, and the Atlantic Federation has already proven to have little regard for the lives of its own soldiers; they'll sacrifice tens of thousands of lives to win the upcoming battles if that's what it takes."

"Victory over a rampart of their own dead," said the former Chairman softly, "how barbaric… then again, Zala and the radicals are just as bad."

"All too true," said Lacus, a haunted look in her eyes, "that slaughter at Panama… how could anyone order such an atrocity?"

"I'm afraid that's a moot question at this point, Miss Lacus," said Aisha grimly, "both sides have proven themselves to be willing to do the unthinkable… nothing's off the table for them now."

"Orb is the only nation with any real power that has not embraced the path of hatred," said Lacus solemnly, "if it falls, I fear for what comes next. For the people of Earth, for Kira and the others aboard the Archangel… I fear a dark night will fall, one that may be eternal."

It was at that point that several of the other moderates in the group began to whisper nervously amongst themselves, clearly unnerved by what they were hearing. Waltfeld decided to give them a few minutes to get their fears out of their systems; aside from the Valkyrie girls, Aisha, and himself, no one else in the room were soldiers, so they did not have the same sense of discipline and priorities.

Politicians, he mused, they talk far more than is necessary… well, most of them do, anyway. I always thought Clyne was good at keeping his speeches to the point, and his daughter has a certain grace and sincerity about her that makes her worth listening to.

It was at that moment that the radio clipped to his belt chirped, and Waltfeld felt a familiar tingle go down his spine. It was a feeling he usually had before things were about to go south, and he could already feel the beginnings of adrenaline begin to course through his veins as he answered the radio.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sir," said DaCosta, "we've got incoming! Two black vans approaching the south side of the complex, and my guy around back reports one from the north!"

As he was listening the Desert Tiger glanced towards Adeline's spot by the window, and he saw the Australian girl's face go pale as her eyes focused on something beyond Waltfeld's vision. "Chopper inbound!" she cried, "Kamov-490; it's a military craft! ETA's 30 seconds!"

"What the hell?" said Aisha, "How did they know we were here?"

Waltfeld briefly scanned the room and instantly realized what had happened. "Avery's not back," he growled, "bastard was a mole!"

"Impossible!" said Clyne, his eyes widening, "I thought…"

"It doesn't matter now!" said Waltfeld before contacting his aide again, "DaCosta, we'll head towards the emergency stairway! Don't stop the enemy from entering the building; you're not outfitted to fight commandos head on! Come in after they're inside and take them from behind; we'll hit them with a pincer attack and hijack their vans once we break out!"

"Better get a move on then sir!" DaCosta replied, "There's a chopper coming in fast for the roof, and it's loaded with gunmen! They'll be hitting you from the rear if you don't get going now!"

"Roger," said Waltfeld, "we'll meet you downstairs. Good luck!"

"You too, sir!" he replied.

The Desert Tiger then turned to the others, putting his radio away and then drawing his pistol. Damn it, he thought, I miss my left arm right now. Fighting a gun battle with only his right arm was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Everyone, let's get out of here," he said, "We'll go to the emergency stairwell and head towards the ground floor!"

"Pris, on point!" said Adaline, instantly taking charge, "Aisha and I will back you up!" She then turned to Waltfeld. "Sir, please help Lan with covering the others."

Waltfeld nodded. "No need to 'sir' or 'please' me, missy," he said, smirking, "Consider this your show!"

Adaline nodded in return before turning to the others. "Alright, let's move!"

The group made their way to the door and out into the hallway. They were on the third floor of a seven story apartment complex, which meant that they'd have a little bit of time before the troops the chopper was dropping on the roof would be able to take them from behind, but not much.

Damn it, thought Waltfeld, I don't know how many gunmen we're up against, and I've only got five people counting myself capable of fighting in my group. DaCosta's got seven men patrolling the perimeter; hopefully they were able to stay out of the enemy's way, otherwise they won't be able to make their part of the pincer attack, and this won't end well for us.

He turned towards Lan, and the Chinese Coordinator looked at him before glancing over at Lacus. When she looked back at Waltfeld he saw her dark brown eyes narrow, burning with determination. The Desert Tiger nodded at her, the unspoken message between them perfectly clear; no matter what happened, they would defend Lacus Clyne at all costs.

She's the heart of our movement, he thought, she stands for everything we represent, she's the embodiment of the resistance to Zala's campaign of hatred against the Naturals. If we lose her, we've lost everything. I'm not about to let that happen!

….

Leading the mad dash towards the emergency stairwell, Priscilla Dalca's normally gentle green eyes were now fierce jade gems, narrowed in focus as her combat instincts took over. Her pistol was drawn and at the ready, and the Italian/Romanian Coordinator had every confidence in her abilities for when the time came to engage the enemy.

Few would suspect that the quiet girl was in fact the best small-arms shot in the Valkyrie Team, not to mention ranked as a top-tier markswoman in ZAFT. Priscilla was better known for her love of books, video games, and computers than her firearms skills, but it was an undisputed fact that amongst the four ladies of the Valkyrie Team she spent by far the most time at the firing range, and her accuracy was scary even by Coordinator standards. The eighteen year old girl was practically an artist with the ZAFT standard issue Glock-series pistols, showing as much grace and precision with her sidearm as Commander Rehema did with her blade.

I've always felt right at home with guns, she thought as she opened the door to the emergency stairwell, I wish it were otherwise though… I guess that's why I try to put more emphasis on my other hobbies and downplay this particular talent of mine. Still, right now it's a skill set I'm thankful for; it's going to be getting a real workout shortly.

Briefly glancing up to check for enemies coming down the stairwell, she saw that that direction was clear, though she knew it wouldn't be for long. She then peered over the railing looking down, and her eyes narrowed as she saw two figure clad in black jumpsuits and ski-masks making their way up the first flight of stairs. She couldn't get a clear view of their weapons, though she caught a glimpse of a snub-nose on the end of one, and was willing to bet they were armed with submachine guns.

Disguised as common thugs, she thought, not really much point in doing so, considering everyone knows the military is after us… I guess old habits die hard, especially for ZAFT's black ops division. Aiming her pistol downward, just over the railing, Priscilla patiently waited as the two men passed briefly out of her sight before they reappeared on the flight of stairs just below and opposite of her own.

She pulled the trigger, hitting the first man in the head. Before her first foe's body even started to fall she had already shifted her aim and her second shot hit the next enemy in the exact same spot.

"Clear!" she said as Adaline and Aisha came up behind her.

"Nice shooting, Priscilla," said Aisha.

"We need to keep moving," said Adaline, "someone will have heard that."

Priscilla nodded and led the way down the stairs, glancing back quickly to make sure the others were keeping up. She was relieved to see Lacus safely between Waltfeld and Lan. The songstress was understandably scared, but she still had her wits about her, and Priscilla was confident that the girl would be alright.

A loud slamming noise echoed from above, and Priscilla knew that the commandos from the chopper had already zeroed in on the gunshots and had made it to the emergency stairwell; they'd be on top of the escaping moderates in moments.

Quickening her pace, the blond girl was practically a blur as she rushed down the stairs. Her eyes were constantly darting over the railing, checking to make sure the path ahead of her was clear. As she rounded the final corner and began making her way down the last flight of stairs to the ground floor she saw the doorknob begin to turn.

Time seemed to slow as she focused on the sights of the pistol. As the door opened Priscilla instantly pulled the trigger, hitting another radical gunmen right between the eyes. Shifting her aim, her next shot took the second man in the chest. She saw a third gunman bringing his weapon to bear on her, and she knew that she would not be able to shift fast enough to take him out. Priscilla wasn't afraid though; she knew her friends had her back.

A shot rang out from right behind her and over her left shoulder, and the gunman went down with a round to the throat. He fell to the floor, but he still clung to life, and Priscilla quickly moved in and administered the coup de grace.

She then looked over her shoulder at Adaline, whose dark blue eyes were narrowed, with a fierce glare in them. Priscilla nodded at her friend and savior. "Thanks for covering me," she said.

"Anytime," said Adaline.

The sounds of additional gunshots rang out up ahead, and Priscilla realized that they were from DaCosta's men; they had launched their rear attack against the enemies still on the ground floor. "Let's move," said Aisha, "DaCosta's already hit the enemy; we need to strike too!"

"Copy that," said Priscilla, once again moving to take point.

She moved towards the sounds of the firefight, and as she peered around a corner she saw DaCosta and his men taking cover behind the pillars in the entrance lobby while shooting it out with eight commandos. Both sides had submachine guns as their primary weapons and pistols as backups, but the enemy had the advantage of being able to call for backup, which Priscilla had no doubt they'd already done. With reinforcements on the way along with the commandos that had landed on the rooftop coming down behind them, the moderates' could not afford a prolonged battle.

Against DaCosta and his men, the enemy had perfect cover… but they were wide open to an attack from Priscilla's angle. Still, it wouldn't be an easy job to make the most of her temporary advantage.

Gotta make every shot count, she thought as she sighted in on the nearest target. "I've got the right side of the room," she whispered to Adaline, "you and Aisha hit the left. Once we've nailed our first targets we'll move up and pin the rest between us and DaCosta before finishing them off."

The Australian girl nodded before passing the word on to Aisha. Meanwhile, Priscilla lined up her shot, took a split second to account for all the other fighters involved, and let fly.

The gunman she'd targeted went down with a shot to the back of the head. Adaline nailed her foe through the heart, while Aisha's shot went through her target's spinal cord. Dashing up as the enemy looked around in confusion, Priscilla emptied the rest of her clip in an effort to force the rest of her foes to keep her head down while she advanced to a better position. Taking cover behind the column that her original target had been using, she ejected the spent magazine and slammed a fresh one home. Chambering a round and sighting in on a fresh target, she once again opened up, dropping two men with two headshots.

Adaline and Aisha laid down additional fire, and while none of their shots dropped a target their barrage allowed DaCosta and his men to flank the remaining three men and mow them down with short, controlled bursts from their submachine guns.

Fresh gunshots rang out from the back of the lobby, and Priscilla whirled to see Waltfeld and Lan firing through the entrance of the emergency stairwell; the commandos from the chopper had caught up with them.

"Get the others out of here!" yelled Adaline, "We'll hold them off and then fall back and regroup at Point Delta Five!"

DaCosta nodded, and he and his men moved to begin escorting the politicians out of the building while Priscilla, Aisha, and Adaline rushed to help Waltfeld and Lan. The Desert Tiger had just spent his clip, and was forced to hold his gun between his teeth while he reloaded it with his right-hand. She then heard what sounded like a loud crack coming from the building's exit, but she didn't have time to see what the source of it was.

Not exactly what I'd call proper firearms handling, Priscilla mused as she glanced at Waltfeld while taking cover behind the doorframe before taking shots at the incoming commandos, but then again, it's not like he has a whole lot of options. She quickly picked off two attackers, while Aisha and Adaline nailed one more each. The gunfire coming from the stairwell subsided, and Priscilla guessed that at least some of the commandos had gone back up to the second floor to make their way to another stairwell, from which they would then proceed to flank her and her comrades.

Adaline apparently had the same thought, because she grabbed Lan by the shoulder and gestured for the Chinese Coordinator to come with her. The two girls made a mad dash for the opposite stairwell, and arrived just in time to open up on a group of three commandos that had nearly made it to the door. They polished off their enemies just as Priscilla, Aisha, and Waltfeld finished dealing with their own foes.

"Let's move!" said Aisha, and the five of them rushed towards the exit.

Just then another large crack rang out… followed by a piercing cry… in a familiar, female voice.

"FATHER!"

….

Taking cover in the doorway, Lacus risked peeking her head around the corner. Her eyes widened as she saw DaCosta and his men shooting it out with a fresh group of gunmen piling out of two more vans. She covered her mouth as she saw one of her protectors go down from a shot to the chest. The songstress saw the man's eyes go blank before he hit the ground, and she knew that the soldier was dead.

It was then that Yousef Bashir, one of the political allies recruited by her father, began to panic. "Come on, we have to get out of here!" he said frantically, looking around at the others, "We can make a break for that alley over there; let's go!"

Lacus turned to her father, who shook his head. "We have to have faith in DaCosta and his men. They'll secure our escape route!"

Bashir wasn't paying attention to the former-Chairman though, instead choosing to rally support from the others. "We can make it; the enemy's focused on DaCosta's men. Let's go!"

"Yousef!" said Clyne, attempting to get him to back down.

But the man would have none of it, and he broke from cover, running towards the nearby alley he had pointed at, with four others in his wake. He didn't get more than five meters before a loud crack rang out… followed by a spurt of blood coming from his chest as he dropped to the ground.

"Sniper!" yelled DaCosta, "Everyone, pull back to the entrance until we can find his location!"

His subordinates followed his orders, but it was too late for the four men that had followed Yousef; they were cut down by a hail of bullets.

Shielding her eyes from the carnage, Lacus turned to DaCosta and saw his gaze narrowing at a nearby rooftop. "Gotcha," she heard him mutter to himself. He then turned to his men. "Carson, Mike, Aaron, lay down a barrage on the roof of that café!"

"Sir!" they said, and they opened fire in the direction he'd ordered them to.

"Mr. Clyne," said DaCosta, "the rest of us will make a break for the vans!"

"What about Carson and the other two?" he asked.

"They can take care of themselves," he replied, "and they know where our nearest safe houses are; they'll make their withdrawal once we're clear. We have to go now, sir!"

Clyne nodded, and he turned to his daughter. "Come on, Lacus," he said. The girl was amazed at just how calm her father appeared right then; he was as solid as rock. He gave her an encouraging smile. "Let's go!"

She nodded, summoning a strength she didn't know she'd had before, forcing her legs to stop shaking as she followed DaCosta, his other four men, and her father as they made a break for the vans. Glancing back, she saw the other six politicians hesitate for a moment before they too ran to catch up to the former Chairman and the others.

Suddenly a loud crack rang out.

Time slowed to a crawl for the pink-haired idol singer as she looked ahead at her father. She could practically see a glint of light reflecting off the round as it made its way through the air… and hit the elder Clyne in the gut.

Lacus's eyes widened in horror. She felt as though she had been doused in Arctic water. That single, horrific second seemed to go on for an eternity. She felt herself freeze, shock paralyzing her, and the only muscles she could move were her mouth and vocal chords… with which she cried out like she had never done before.

"FATHER!"

She couldn't move, even as she watched him fall to his knees. She barely felt one of DaCosta's men grab her and take her to cover, barely noticed as two others laid down a barrage at the second sniper, who was standing just behind yet another van parked twenty meters away. The songstress was completely numb, unable to register what was going on around her… her gaze locked on her father and the soldier that had slung him over his shoulder and was taking him to cover.

Everything blurred around her, and she lost track of time. The only clear image was her father, his blood leaking from the wound in his gut onto the man that was carrying him. A single thought echoed in her head, repeating like a mantra.

Father….Father… Father…

….

Watching the second sniper go down via a volley from DaCosta's weapon, Adaline turned towards Carson, Mike, and Aaron. "Let the first one poke his head out!" she ordered, "Pris will take him down!

The three men nodded and ceased their barrage, pulling back while Priscilla moved up to take their place. Her emerald eyes narrowed as she sighted in on her targets, and Adaline prayed that she would be able to hit her target on the first shot; it was unlikely she'd get a second.

She'd heard Lacus's scream earlier, and though she hadn't seen the former Chairman go down, she knew that the elder Clyne had been hit. Adaline could still hear Lacus's scream echoing in her ears; never had such a beautiful voice sounded so haunting, like a banshee crying out in despair. Lacus, she thought, hang on, we'll be there soon! We'll save your father!

She watched as Priscilla took a deep breath, let it out… and pulled the trigger. Following the angle of her pistol, Adaline saw a figure dressed in black slump over the edge of the café roof, blood slowly spilling down the ledge of the building.

"Let's move!" she yelled.

As they made their mad dash across the street, they fired at another group of gunmen that had appeared to the right… and were responsible for the bodies of the remaining six politicians that littered the street. Adaline saw only one of her shots hit, winging a man in the shoulder. Priscilla, by contrast, was on a roll, dishing out two head shots and hitting another man right through the heart. Adaline saw that her normally gentle emerald eyes were now fierce jade, and were filled with an unholy fury. She couldn't blame the Italian/Romanian girl for her wrath; Adaline could only imagine what her own face looked like as she fired at the enemy, all the while Lacus's cry still echoed in her mind. Zala, she thought, I swear, we will take you down and make you answer for today's bloodshed!

They managed to get across the street and into cover with DaCosta and the others. Adeline's eyes widened in horror as she saw the former Chairman lying on the ground while one of DaCosta's men worked desperately to stop the bleeding. The elder Clyne's face was already extremely pale; the blood loss was severe, if not critical.

Lacus, meanwhile, was in hysterics, trying desperately to get to her father despite two men holding her back. "Father!" she cried out, "Father! Let me go to my father!"

Adaline moved towards her. "I'll take her," she said grimly to the two men, knowing that they would be desperately needed to hold off enemy reinforcements while they tried to move the former Chairman. They both nodded, and the instant they let go Adaline grabbed a hold of Lacus. She was amazed at how fiercely the songstress struggled, and it wrenched at Adeline's heart to have to hold her back like this, but she knew the man tending to her father needed space to work if he was going to have a chance at saving his life… a chance that looked slimmer by the second.

"We can't stay here," said Aisha, "more of them will show up any second; we have to get out of here!"

"I can't move Clyne," said the man working on him, "the round went right through his spinal cord; who knows how I added to the damage by carrying him like I did!"

"Can he move his legs?" asked Waltfeld.

"No…" came the former Chairman's voice, little more than a hoarse whisper, surprising them all, "I can't… I can't even feel them… I'm sorry."

"Mr. Clyne," said Aisha softly, "please, don't try to talk; save your strength."

He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. "It doesn't matter… I know… I'm dying."

At those words Lacus redoubled her efforts… and Adaline lost the will to hold her back. Letting her go, she watched as she rushed to her father's side, cradling his head, oblivious to the growing pool of blood that she was kneeling in..

"No!" she cried out, tears streaming down her face, "Father… you can't die! Please, stay with us… you can't die! I can't lose you! Mother's already gone… I can't lose you too!"

The small smile on the former Chairman's face became slightly more genuine. "Lacus… you've… always made… me proud… and I know… your mother is too."

"Father…" she said softly, struggling to speak through her tears, "Father… don't go! Please, stay with us… we can save you!"

He shook his head. "It's… too late… my daughter. I'm… sorry."

"Company!" Lan yelled. Adaline whirled around and saw yet another group of gunmen approaching, weapons raised.

"Damn it!" she said, dropping to her knee before opening fire. She was backed up by Lan, Priscilla, and Carson, Mike, and Aaron as they made a dash across the road to join them.

We need to get out of here!, she thought as she traded shots with the enemy, We can't stay here; we'll be overwhelmed any minute now!

….

Assessing the situation, a grim idea formed in Waltfeld's mine. He didn't like it; hell, he hated it, but it was the only one he had.

"We can still get away in the vans," he said, nodding over to two that were parked not too far away from where they were taking cover, "but we need someone to stay and lay down covering fire… a rearguard."

It was a suicide mission, and everyone there knew it. The only question now was who would stay. DaCosta looked ready to volunteer, but before he could speak up he was beaten to the punch… by the dying Siegel Clyne.

"I've got… a little strength left," he said, determination in his voice even as he struggled to speak. "Waltfeld… prop me against the wall… and give me a gun… I should be able to last… long enough."

"Father, no!" cried Lacus, "We're not leaving you here! You're coming with us!"

"I'm sorry… my dear," the former Chairman replied, "It's…. the only way."

"NO!" the songstress shrieked, throwing herself over her father as she embraced him, "I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!"

Waltfeld turned to Aisha, who gave him a grim nod; his lover knew what needed to be done.

She grabbed Lacus and pulled her away from her father, giving the former Chairman an apologetic look. Amazingly enough the man seemed to catch it, and turned to give his daughter one last smile. "I love you, Lacus… and I always will."

"FATHER!" she cried out as Aisha pulled her away.

"Forgive me," said Aisha softly. Waltfeld then watched as she swiftly whirled the songstress around so that she was facing her, moving faster than Lacus could possibly hope to react… and gut-punching her. Hard.

The girl's eyes widened for a moment in shock before she slumped over, breathless, the fight leaving her along with her consciousness. As Aisha caught Lacus Waltfeld motioned for one of the soldiers to hand over his submachine gun, which he then gave to the elder Clyne as DaCosta began to move him into a suitable firing position.

"It's got a full clip," said Waltfeld, "you sure you can use it?"

Clyne nodded. "Zala… showed me how… back when we… were still friends." He smiled grimly. "Feels like… a lifetime ago… but I'll manage."

Waltfeld nodded. "Clyne… it's been an honor serving under you, Supreme Chairman."

Clyne nodded. "Please… protect my daughter… no matter what."

The Desert Tiger nodded again, grim determination in his eyes. "From Hell itself if I have to," he replied.

"I can see them… forming up for another attack," said Clyne, his eyes focused past Waltfeld, "go… now."

Waltfeld nodded. As he drew his pistol and prepared to make a break for it, he spared one last look over his shoulder at Clyne. "Goodbye, Siegel Clyne."

….

Holding the gun with both hands, Siegel Clyne smiled as he watched Waltfeld, Aisha, the Valkyrie girls, and DaCosta and his men rush towards the two nearby vans. My time has come, he thought, but my legacy will live on in them. Be strong, Lacus. In the end, it must be you who will lead them towards the better tomorrow we all desire. I know you have it within you to do so… you are my daughter, after all.

The former Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council grimaced as he struggled to stay sitting upright against the wall. His blood was pooling in his lap, and the darkness was already encroaching at the edges of his vision; he did not have much time left.

Not much, he thought as he brought the submachine gun up to bear on the approaching gunmen, but enough.

"Zala," he growled, "you… will not get… my daughter."

He fired, catching the lead gunman in the gut. Another burst of fire blew a man's knees out, and the others dropped back behind cover. They then began a more methodical advance, ducking in and out of cover. However, Clyne was still able to get them to keep their heads down, buying precious time for Waltfeld and the others to escape.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder and smiled as he saw two of the vans go speeding down the road, and he knew that Lacus and the others were safe. Turning his attention back towards the advancing gunmen, he emptied the rest of the submachine gun's magazine as he sprayed fire everywhere in a last effort to buy Waltfeld a few extra seconds to get away. He then let the weapon fall at his side, the last of his strength rapidly giving out.

His vision became increasingly blurry, the approaching gunmen now little more than vague black shapes growing steadily larger. His throat felt drier than a desert, and it was a tremendous struggle just to breath. Strange noises surrounded him, and he realized that his hearing was fading as well.

One of the shadowy blurs approached him, raising its arm, and Clyne knew that it was going to finish him off. He managed to muster one last rueful smile for his foe. "Go ahead… you've already lost."

There was a muffled bang, a brief flash of pain… and then eternity.

….

Sitting on the couch with her newfound lover, her head resting on his shoulder, Shemei smiled as she as her eyes met Eric's. The two of them were at his condo, taking advantage of one of his rare days off to simply relax and enjoy each other's company. It's rare that we get days like this, she thought, his schedule's so busy, we usually only get a few hours together when he gets away from HQ in the early evenings.

They were just kicking back, watching the news, plates with half-finished sandwiches laying on the coffee table in front of the couch, along with the Field Marshal's laptop. Eric had his right arm around Shemei, holding her close, and while he was for the most part relaxing she could also detect a little bit of stiffness in him. She knew it wasn't from her, though. Rather, it was because he knew there was a meeting underway between Waltfeld, the Clyne family, and other members of the moderate faction, and he was worried about the possibility of them being discovered. Shemei knew that Waltfeld, Eric, and DaCosta always took precautions, but she was also aware that the former Chairman had been inviting more and more people to join their resistance, and with the increase in participation came a greater risk of infiltration by the radicals.

We've been careful up to this point, she thought, and I know Waltfeld, Aisha, and the girls will protect Lacus, but still… her father's been increasing the rate at which he approaches people with the offer to join us, and we don't have the resource to vet everyone so quickly. Eric does his best to help, but he's already got enough things on his plate to deal with; he can't run background checks on everyone, so we're forced to rely more and more on Clyne's personal connections with these people to ensure that they're loyal to our cause.

She heard a buzzing sound and realized it was one of Eric's phones vibrating. As he pulled it out of his pocket, Shemei saw that it was one of the secure network phones. "It's Waltfeld," he said as he glanced at the caller ID, "something important must have come up; I wasn't supposed to be involved in today's meeting at all."

Shemei watched and listened as he answered the call. "Hey, what's going on?" He was quiet as Waltfeld spoke, and though Shemei couldn't hear what the Desert Tiger was saying, she realized that it was bad news; Eric's face was growing grimmer with each passing second. Eventually he closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes Shemei was startled to see a haunted and sorrowful look in them, mixed with hardened resolve. Not knowing what to do but recognizing that something terrible had happened, Shemei reached over and grabbed his hand. She felt him respond by gripping her hand tightly, and she knew that something had gone very wrong with the meeting.

After a minute he finally spoke. "Alright… I guess we have no choice then." There was a pause as he listened to Waltfeld. "It'll be tight… everything's loaded, and all the systems are good, but the people we need are out of position; it'll take me some time to get them into place." Another pause. "Ok… it'll be tight, but I can have everything setup by nightfall. Use safe house Alpha until then; it shouldn't be compromised if Avery was the leak. Alright, I'll get things started on my end. Watch yourself, buddy… and keep an eye on the girl. After what she saw today, who knows what's going through her head right now. Later."

He closed the flip-phone and put it away, looking down for a moment, his expression one of quiet mourning and grim determination. Eventually Shemei decided she needed to break the silence and find out what had happened. "Eric?" she asked, "What's wrong? What happened at the meeting?"

Eric sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and meeting her gaze. "The meeting was attacked; one of the former Chairman's newest recruits, Avery, was actually working for Zala. Siegel Clyne… is dead."

Shemei gasped, and felt as the blood in her veins had turned to ice. She'd never dared imagine things had been that bad. Fear gripped her as her thoughts quickly turned to the others that had been at the meeting. "What about Adaline and the others?" she asked frantically, "What about Lacus and Aisha? Eric, are they alright?"

He nodded. "They're safe. DaCosta's ok too, though a couple of his guys didn't make it. The other civilian government workers that were there were all killed. Lacus was right behind her father when he got hit… she freaked out. Aisha had to knock her out cold in order to get her away. Clyne was mortally wounded… he stayed behind to buy Waltfeld and the others time to escape."

"Oh my god…" Shemei said softly. Then another thought occurred, one that sent chills running down her spine. "Eric, what if you're compromised now? You have to get out of here!"

The Field Marshal calmly shook his head and gave her a small smile. "I'm fine, Shemei. Waltfeld and I took precautions against someone leaking my position as an insider on the Defense Council to Zala. The only people that know about that are you, Lacus, the girls, Waltfeld and Aisha, Representative Canaver… and the former Chairman. Everyone else in the movement knows me simply as Source One. My back's covered, and I've been careful about erasing my footsteps, so to speak. I may not like all this sneaking around… but I'm very good at it."

He then sighed. "At least, good at keeping myself one step ahead of the hounds. As for the others… damn, this is my fault. I was planning on running some checks on Avery and some of the other newbies Clyne had recruited, but I've been focusing my efforts on the shipyards and mobile suit factories the past few days, and I put the vetting on hold. I figured that if Clyne knew them personally then I could relax a little. I was still going to run the checks, but I didn't think I needed to do it right away… I screwed up, damn it, and Clyne's dead because of it!"

Shemei shook her head and grabbed Eric by the shoulders, turning him to face her. "No, it's not, Eric! You've been working your ass off to help us, and what you've done is nothing short of phenomenal, but you can't do everything by yourself." She sighed. "I know it's harsh of me to say this, especially now, but Clyne made a bad call; this is on his head, not yours. You did nothing wrong!"

She saw his eyes widen at her words before a small smile appeared on his face. It was weak, but Shemei would take what she could get. "I guess… you're right, Shemei. Thank you."

Shemei knew that he would still beat himself up inside over what had happened, but his reply was at least a start in the right direction. She vowed to do all she could to support him, just as he had done for her.

She gave him a soft smile in return before leaning in to kiss him. "You're welcome, Eric," she said as their lips parted, "I'll always have your back, you know that." Her expression then became more serious. "So… now what?"

"Now I do in six hours what I was originally going to do over the course of six days," he said, leaning forwards and grabbing the laptop off the coffee table, "get everyone I can in position to hijack the Eternal and help Waltfeld get Lacus and as many others as he can out of the PLANTs, not to mention set them up a clear path through the Exclusion Grid."

"Should I go, then?" she asked as he powered up the device and logged in, "I don't want to get in your way."

Eric shook his head. "Believe it or not, I can arrange everything from here. I can log into the ZAFT network from anywhere in Aprilius One. The trick is making the necessary adjustments to the security at the dock where the Eternal is kept, along with the patrol routes of the warships that would be in their flight path, without leaving any traces leading back to me. It'll be difficult… but I can pull it off. After that I just have to contact everyone who'll be acting as Waltfeld's crew and tell them that we're moving ahead of schedule."

He then looked up at her and smiled. "Besides, I'd really appreciate it if you could stay longer. I'm grateful for your support, Shemei… and I want you here with me while I do this."

She smiled as she leaned over and put her arm around him. "If that's what you want, then I'll stay as long as you want me to; I've got nothing going on today anyway."

"Thanks," said Eric, "although, you might get bored after a while; I'm going to be on this thing for quite some time."

"I don't mind," she said, "it'll be interesting to watch how you work your crafty backstage magic, as it were. You always were the sneaky one of the four of us, not to mention the best when it came to computers."

Eric nodded. "Yeah, you're right… and I'll need every bit of that skill if I'm going to pull this off without landing myself in Zala's crosshairs."

She saw his eyes narrow as he focused on the screen and got to work. Leaning her head against his shoulder, Shemei closed her eyes for a moment, sending a silent prayer to the soul of the late Siegel Clyne.

Chairman, she thought it was an honor to know and serve under you. Rest in peace, Mr. Clyne. I swear on my life, I'll do all I can to help bring about your vision of peace and cooperation between Coordinators and Naturals. Your sacrifice will not be in vain, I promise!

….

The artificial night was falling on the PLANT capital as Lacus approached the security checkpoint. She had ditched her disguise, which had consisted of a blond wig, a black skirt, white shirt, and brown jacket, back in the bathroom along with Aisha, Adaline, Lan, and Priscilla. Now her pink hair was on display for all to see, tied up with a red ribbon in a ponytail, her yellow-gold hairclip back where it belonged above her left eye. She was wearing a black dress with purple trim, tied off with a pink sash. Over that was a white jacket with purple sleeves and pink trim. It was a slightly more practical outfit than her usual dresses, though it was still quite flashy, and she had only changed out of her disguise when she had gotten confirmation from Waltfeld that they were now in an area controlled by soldiers loyal to the moderates, men and women that had been contacted personally by Field Marshal Bristow.

Everyone else had ditched their disguises as well, and they were now walking down the corridor in their original military uniforms with the exception of Waltfeld and Aisha; the former wore a long brown trench coat over his khaki pants and black shirt, while the latter was clad in a black and pink pilot's jumpsuit. Adaline, Lan, and Priscilla were in red uniforms that symbolized their status as elite pilots, while DaCosta wore his tan desert uniform and his men wore the standard green attire.

Her father had died over six hours ago, giving his life so that she could escape. Mentally, Lacus knew that the wound her father had suffered when he had been shot by the sniper had been mortal, and that he would not have survived much longer anyway… but she still felt as though she had abandoned him. It didn't matter that Aisha had knocked her out and dragged her away; Lacus could not shake the guilt that was in her heart, weighing down upon her shoulders along with her sorrow and pain.

When she had initially regained consciousness several hours ago, she'd hoped against hope that what had happened had just been a nightmare, and that her father was still alive. However, mere seconds later she had seen the grim look in Aisha's eyes, and she knew that it hadn't been just a bad dream. Grief and anguish crashed into her like a tidal wave, and she had practically collapsed into the arms of the Desert Tiger's lover, crying harder than she'd ever had in her life.

In other circumstances she would've had more time to grieve, but less than an hour after she had awoken she had been approached by Waltfeld and the three former subordinates of Commander Rehema. They had expressed their deepest condolences before telling her in no uncertain terms just what the situation was; the hunt for them was intensifying even greater than before, and they had to flee the capital post haste. Still in shock over the death of her father, Lacus had only been able to nod numbly, realizing that she would have to hold her grief within, at least for the time being, if she was going to be able to survive long enough to escape the PLANTs and carry on her father's wish to end the war before it could escalate into all-out genocide.

Sorrow and anguish still tore at her heart even now, threatening to overwhelm her, but Lacus was determined to remain strong, at least until they were out of the reach of the radical faction. She turned to Aisha, who immediately proceeded to look towards the floor, unable to meet her gaze. Lacus knew that the woman felt guilty over knocking her out in order to get her to safety, but the girl did not hold it against her. If she hadn't done that, she thought grimly, I would never have left my father's side… and I would've died with him.

"Miss Aisha," she said softly, "will you please look at me?"

The black-haired beauty was caught off guard, but she still turned to face Lacus, though her eyes constantly glanced towards the floor, as if meeting the songstress's gaze was incredibly difficult.

"Miss Aisha," she continued, reaching over to grab her hand, "thank you… for what you did. Had you not acted… I would not be here now. You saved my life… and you have my sincerest gratitude."

"Lacus…" said Aisha softly, "I… I'm sorry."

The songstress shook her head and smiled weakly. "Please, do not apologize, Miss Aisha. In my… emotional state, there was no way I would've been able to run away with the rest of you. You and Mister Waltfeld recognized that, and you did what you had to do in order to get me to safety. I owe you my life… and I'm sure my father would've wanted you to do what you did. Please, do not burden yourself with guilt; you will need all the strength you have if we are to get out of here alive."

The woman nodded, a determined look appearing in her dark green eyes. "Alright, Lacus… and thank you."

The pink-haired girl nodded. "You are welcome, Miss Aisha."

She then turned her attention forward, where Waltfeld was talking with one of the guards at the checkpoint. He turned around and nodded as rest of the group approached. "Everything's ready; we've got supplies, ammunition, a crew, and exit clearance. Hell, even the mobile suits are loaded and ready to go."

"Good," said Adaline, "let's get out of here."

Lacus nodded. "Agreed. The time has come for us to depart, Mister Waltfeld."

The doors opened, and Lacus and her entourage walked out onto the dock, the two door guards joining them; they certainly wouldn't be able to stay in the capital after what they had just helped enable, after all.

The top secret facility was alive with activity as the last members of the new warship's crew rushed to board her. The Eternal was even more impressing in person that it had been in the files Waltfeld and Field Marshal Bristow had shown her. Lacus looked at the large pink-burgundy vessel in awe, even in the midst of her grief not failing to be amazed at being up close and personal to the ship that would from now on be serving as her home and base of operations. What an incredible ship, she thought, it may not be as powerful as the Archangel, but it is still very impressive.

"Lacus," said Lan, grabbing her attention, "come on, we need to get on board."

She nodded. "Right, Lan. Sorry, I was… distracted."

The Chinese Coordinator gave her a soft, understanding smile. "I understand. How are you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances," she replied as they headed up the gangway towards the starboard hatch, "I will have time to properly grieve and mourn my father once we are clear of the PLANTs and ZAFT forces."

Lan put her hand on her shoulder. "When that time comes, if you need anything, don't hesitate to come to us, alright? We want to help you however we can."

"Lan's right," said Adaline from behind them, "You're not alone, Lacus."

"We're all here for you," said Priscilla, smiling, "and we will never abandon you. That's a promise."

Lacus smiled at the three of them, feeling nearly overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you… all of you."

"Anytime," said Lan.

As they entered the ship the Valkyrie girls, along with Aisha, split off from the group. "We need to head to the hangar and prep our mobile suits in case we have to launch," said Aisha, "Lacus, you go with Andy to the bridge, alright?"

She nodded. "Ok. Please be careful."

"Don't worry about us," said Adaline, "just concentrate on doing your part, and we'll focus on ours. Do that and everything will be fine."

"Come on," said Waltfeld as the four of them disappeared around a corner, "let's move, Miss Clyne."

"Right," said Lacus, following in his wake. After a couple of minutes they arrived at the bridge. It was quite spacious, with the captain's chair situated up and above the crew stations. About halfway between the two was another chair with several keypads and monitors nearby.

"Lacus," said Waltfeld, pointing at that seat, "that'll be your station." He then smiled. "Unless you'd rather stand all the time."

Lacus shook her head. "I'll go there. What do you want me to do, Mister Waltfeld?"

"Just get yourself oriented," said the Desert Tiger as he sat down in the captain's chair, "that station has a few unique features I think you'll appreciate."

She did as he told her, and began experimenting with the keypads and monitors. Lacus was surprised to realize that she had her own independent communications array, capable of broadcasting on a wide range of frequencies as well as allowing her to monitor comm chatter of units broadcasting on friendly channels. At the same time, she saw that the monitors allowed her to view both ship schematics and images from the cameras stationed both inside the vessel's hangar and on the outer hull. One of the monitors also had a camera above it pointed at her, allowing her to make full-visual-audio broadcasts.

Looking up at Waltfeld, she saw that the former Field Marshal was running through final launch checks with the rest of the bridge crew. "Weapons status?" he asked.

"Heavy beam cannon and the METEOR batteries are online," said the chief gunnery officer, "defense missile launchers and CIWs are fully loaded and operational; no malfunctions to report."

"Engineering," said Waltfeld, speaking into the monitor mounted on his chair, "are things good to go on you end, Miss Daniels?"

"Aye, sir," said a female voice with a Scottish accent, "we're all powered up, and the engines are raring to go. We're ready to put this girl through her paces anytime you are."

"Comms," said Waltfeld, "transmit the launch clearance codes; let's blow this joint."

"Yes sir," said the radio officer, a woman who appeared to be in her late teens, with brown hair tied up in a pony tail, "transmitting now… codes accepted, bay doors are opening."

"Helm," said Waltfeld, smiling, "take us out."

"Roger that, sir," said the helmsman, a man with dark skin, short cropped hair, and a deep baritone voice. Lacus felt the engines roar to life, thrumming with power, audible even from the bridge. Slowly the ship began to move out as the docking bay doors ahead finished opening.

"Sir," said DaCosta as he entered the bridge, "hangar crews report that all four machines are good to go; they can launch any time you want them to."

"Good," said Waltfeld, "In that case why don't you get yourself situated, DaCosta?" He then smirked. "Looks like you're back to being my XO."

DaCosta nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes sir… I wouldn't have it any other way."

"To your station, DaCosta," said Waltfeld.

The Tiger's second-in-command nodded and made his way down to the crew pit, where he took his seat at the XO's station.

"Sir," said the radio officer, "we're receiving a communication from Source One; it's course telemetry, sir."

"Pass it on to sensors and helm," said Waltfeld, "along with Miss Clyne's station."

Lacus saw one of her screens light up with data, showing a map of the PLANTs with a dotted line representing the Eternal's escape course. Incredible, she thought, Field Marshal Bristow managed to alter the patrol routes of the capitol ships that would be in our path! We'll be able to pass right through the Hydrian Line! Of course, there was no way the support cruiser would remain undetected as it made its escape, but the alterations and sabotage Bristow had managed to set up in the ZAFT defenses would buy enough time for them to clear the Exclusion Grid before the military was able to organize a pursuit force.

Looking out the forward viewport, she saw that the warship had cleared the dock and was moving away from Aprilius One. "Helm," said Waltfeld, "open her up, and don't spare the juice; we need to get clear ASAP."

"Aye sir," said the helmsman.

As the ship picked up speed, Lacus brought up the image of Aprilius One on one of her monitors. She watched for a moment as the place that had been her home for all of her life rapidly became smaller and smaller as the Eternal pulled away.

No, she thought grimly, it's no longer home. What made it home is now gone; I have nothing to go back to. My old life ended as of today… my new life begins now. Father, I love you, I miss you… rest in peace. I promise I'll do all I can to carry on your work; I will not allow ZAFT or the Alliance to destroy mankind in the name of their selfish hatreds! I will stop them!

….

Shemei smiled as she sat across the table from Eric, chowing down on waffles and bacon. It was the morning after the cunning Field Marshal had orchestrated what was without a doubt the most brazen and audacious ship-jacking in the history of mankind.

An entire warship, she thought, giddy with excitement, not only that, but a one-of-a-kind cruiser with advanced weaponry and mobile suits… and from a high security dock in the heart of the capitol to boot! She giggled slightly as she watched Eric fumble a bit as he attempted to slice a piece of waffle up, only for the bit of food to slip off the plate and fall into his lap. And it was all set up by the man I love… a guy who apparently can't cut up waffles for the life of him!

Her lover looked up and smiled sheepishly as he grabbed the offending bit of food and munched it down while trying to wipe up the syrup that was now staining his green bathrobe. The two of them were in his condo, both dressed in casual morning attire, with Shemei wearing one of Eric's shirts… and not much else.

She grabbed her napkin and reached across the table, wiping a bit of syrup off Eric's face. "Having trouble, lover boy?" she asked playfully.

"Hey, cut a guy some slack," he replied, "you poured way too much syrup on these… my food's sliding around my plate whenever I try to cut it!"

"That's because they're too rigid," she shot back, smirking, "you kept them in the toaster too long, and they're a bit crispy. I needed the extra syrup to improve the taste!"

They both laughed at that. "Gourmet chefs we aren't," said Eric, "at least when it comes to breakfast foods, anyway."

"No arguing there," said Shemei, "though I believe you were singing a different tune a few months ago when I invited you over."

"That was dinner food," Eric replied, "and you were using your mother's Egyptian recipes… which were superb. We didn't do the same here."

"True," said Shemei, "we kind of just threw this together… you don't keep a whole lot of breakfast food on hand."

"Mostly I just grab something on my way into HQ," said Eric, "I usually don't take the time to actually make a decent meal like this... but with you spending the night, I had to make an exception."

"You mean 'we'," said Shemei, giggling again, "This was a collaborative effort… and definitely not our best."

The two of them finished their meal in relative silence, a content peace falling between them. The worries that both of them had been shouldering for so long just didn't seem to exist at the moment. They were enjoying a meal with the person they loved; nothing else mattered.

After they cleared their plates they cleaned up the table and the kitchen before going to get changed into their uniforms. As she was putting on her uniform Shemei heard her cell-phone buzz on the nightstand. Checking the caller ID, she saw that it was ZAFT HQ. She sighed as she answered the phone. Back to reality, she thought as she listened grimly to the voice on the other end, to the dark night that's fallen over my life.

"Hey," said Eric as she closed her phone, putting his hand on her shoulder, "you don't look so good. What was that about?"

She sighed before turning to look at him. "Command wants me to report to Fort Jupiter ASAP. I'm to officially receive the ZGMF-X14 Judgment today… along with my first assignment."

"Are you being sent against the Archangel and Wing Zero?" he asked.

Shemei shook her head. "No… I'm to be assigned to the task force charged with hunting down the Eternal."

Eric's eyes widened. "Shemei… I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't apologize, Eric; this wasn't your fault."

"Something's not right," said Eric, "if Command wants you to help hunt down the Eternal, why wait until now to call you?'

"I'm politically unreliable, remember?" said Shemei, "Zala had to take my parents hostage after all; even with my skill, I'm hardly the first person they'd call to take part in this mission. They probably sent forces from the defense lines in pursuit first, only for Waltfeld and the others to fight clear of them." Despite the gravity of the situation, she couldn't help but smile slightly. "He underestimated Waltfeld and the girls, and he's paying for it now. Assembling this task force will require resources that he needs elsewhere… including me."

"But you'll be going up against your former teammates!" said Eric, "Don't tell me this doesn't bother you, Shemei."

"I never said it didn't, Eric," she replied, looking down in despair, "but… what choice do I have? Either I follow orders… or my parents die." She struggled to hold back the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "I have to join the taskforce… fight against the girls, Waltfeld and Aisha, Lacus… my friends… or my parents will be executed. Damn it… damn it all!"

She felt Eric put his arms around her and pull her close, and she did not fight it. Shemei buried her head in his shoulder, choking back tears. "Eric," she said softly, "I… I don't know what to do. No matter what path I take, no matter what I choose… someone I care about is going to die!"

"Not necessarily," said Eric, causing her to look up. "Shemei, you know how cunning Waltfeld is, how skilled Aisha and the girls are at mobile suit combat. The Eternal's a formidable warship, and the girls all have state of the art mobile suits to fly. He'll be able to stay a step ahead of the hounds, and fight his way free of pursuit if the enemy gets too close. And even if you do end up fighting them, you can hold back while dueling the girls. They'll hold back too once they realize you're on the field. Together you can stall long enough for Aisha and Waltfeld to orchestrate a withdrawal, and then find a way to disengage from the girls without arousing suspicions. It's not a perfect plan, I know… but it's still something."

"Do you really think that would work?" asked Shemei, a sliver of hope in her heart.

"Shemei," said Eric, "everyone in the military knows how skilled a pilot you are, but few know exactly how good you are. The same goes for your teammates; people know they're good, but not the actual extent. The four of you know each other better than anyone else. If anyone can put on a convincing show long enough for Waltfeld to figure out a way to disengage, it's you and the girls."

Shemei smiled softly, realizing that he was right. As he'd said, it was by no means a perfect plan, but it was still something, and definitely better than nothing. It didn't change just how desperate her situation had become, but it offered a ray of light, a slim possibility that she could get through this without killing someone she cared about.

"Eric," she said, pulling him in for a kiss, "thank you."

"You're welcome, Shemei," he replied as they parted, smiling. "Listen… do you need anything before you go? Anything at all?"

"Oh, I can think of something," she said as she leaned up for another kiss. It was longer than the last one, with both of them using it to release the passion and sorrow that was building up within them. Their mouths opened, tongues meeting and intertwining as they had several times now over the past few days, and they stopped only when the need for air became too great to ignore.

Gasping for breath, the two of them smiled again. "Well…" said Eric, "you don't ask for much… do you?"

"Only what I know you can deliver, love," said Shemei. Her expression then became more serious. "Eric… please, be careful while I'm gone, alright? I know you're good at covering your tracks, but Zala will be more paranoid than ever now that the Eternal's been hijacked. I know you want to keep helping us… but please, keep your head down, ok?"

"I'll do my best," Eric replied, "but I'm not going to cease my activities. I'll watch my back, but I'm still going to do all I can to help the opposition; I've come too far to stop now. Besides… I owe Clyne that much, and no doubt more."

"I know you feel responsible for what happened to him," said Shemei, raising her hand up to caress his cheek, "but please, don't put yourself in danger out of some misguided sense of guilt. I can't lose you, Eric… especially not now. Don't sacrifice yourself; no one would want that. Not Clyne, not his daughter, and certainly not me. Stay alive, you got that?"

Eric nodded. "I will, Shemei. I love you."

Shemei smiled, giving him another brief kiss. "I love you too, Eric," she said.

….

From the bridge of the Spengler-class fleet carrier Powell, Muruta Azrael had a perfect view of the massive armada as it sailed through the Pacific Ocean. Ships filled the surrounding water as far as he could see, and fighter jets and mobile suits crisscrossed the sky as they flew their assigned patrols.

The head of Blue Cosmos and the de facto ruler of the Atlantic Federation and the entire Earth Alliance smiled as he looked out upon the invasion force. "Everything is proceeding as planned," he said quietly, "the Lion of Orb reacted just as I predicted he would. Soon that stubborn old man and his nation of Coordinator sympathizers will be crushed, and its resources will be ours to wield."

It was not just the assembly and launching of the armada that had gone according to plan. In Moscow the CPK had staged its coup and deposed the sitting government of the Eurasian Federation. The takeover had gone off without a hitch; a silent power grab. The people at large were unaware that they were now under the control of the Blue Cosmos' ally in Eurasia, as the CPK had puppet ministers already installed in the most important government institutions. All the nation's military facilities had been seized as well, and its reserve divisions and Home Fleet were being marshaled for offensive operations. Like the Blue Cosmos, the CPK's doctrine was one of attack; they had no issues with using their homeland defense units as frontline attack forces. After all, they would be used in the campaign that would drive the Coordinators from the surface of the Earth; there was no need to hold forces in the homeland beyond those necessary to maintain internal security.

Of course, it would still take time for the new rulers of Eurasia to mobilize the fleet they would be sending to aid the invasion of Orb, along with the reserve divisions and the task force that would be assisting Rear-Admiral Bernard with the invasion of Africa. The Eurasian Home Fleet would not arrive in time to join the Atlantic Federation armada for its opening assault on Orb. That did not matter though; the Eurasian Home Fleet would be needed only to help complete the victory. Azrael did not expect the entire nation to fall in a single day, though he did believe that the most important institutions and facilities, particularly the Kaguya mass driver, would be taken within the first twenty-four hours. The Eurasian fleet would arrive near the end of the first day or the beginning of the second day of the offensive, and would replenish any losses suffered by the Atlantic Federation and fill in gaps in the armada as it continued its assault.

Azrael smirked as he looked out over the armada. The former Eurasian Federation rulers lacked the backbone to fully commit themselves to our war effort, he thought, but the Chistaya Partiya Krovi is a different matter. They see the world through the same lens as we do. It's is unfortunate that Eurasia's frontline units were all but destroyed at Alaska; they would've been useful under the leadership of the CPK. However, their loss was a necessary sacrifice, though of course the original strategy that required said loss did not go according to plan. That's irrelevant now; the last Eurasian military units are now committed to our offensive operations, and that's all that matters. They may not have the same experience level as the units lost at Alaska did, but that doesn't matter; their numbers alone are what counts, and when combined with our own forces they will be more than enough to secure our victory over the Coordinator forces that remain on Earth, along with their sympathizers in the Orb Union.

The Eurasian Home Fleet had not yet been given access to any of the Atlantic Federation's new model mobile suits; they would be fighting with conventional weapons. After Orb was taken Azrael planned to send them the schematics for the Strike-Dagger and Buster-Dagger as rewards for their cooperation. It would no longer be necessary for the plans for those machines to be kept exclusively to the Atlantic Federation; after all, the leaders of the CPK had already pledged their loyalty to Blue Cosmos, and were in effect under the control of Azrael. Eurasia would essentially be united with the Atlantic Federation, in fact if not in name.

The final warship tally for the Atlantic Federation armada was staggering: 30 Spengler-class fleet carriers, 32 Angler-class escort carriers, 48 missile cruisers, 124 destroyers, 32 heavy transports, 30 of the gargantuan Titan-class troop transports, 14 supply freighters and 12 tankers. There were no conventional submarines in the fleet; the underwater fighting would be done by the Aqua Darts stored in the bellies of the Angler-class escort carriers. Even without the larger underwater vessels the fleet was still an incredibly formidable force. It was the largest ocean-going force assembled by the Atlantic Federation in the entire war to date, and when the Eurasian Home Fleet arrived to reinforce it the armada would gain an additional 10 heavy carriers, 15 escort carriers, 23 missile cruisers, 79 destroyers, 9 Theta-class submarine/carriers, 12 Alpha V attack submarines, 7 freighters and five tankers.

The armada's air arm was just as fearsome as it's aquatic one. The larger Spengler-class carriers had all been refitted to carry 18 Strike-Daggers apiece equipped with Neo-Aile flight packs (three of those units had been removed from the Powell to make room for the second generation GAT-series prototypes), while the Angler-class vessels were outfitted with 24 of the conventional F-7D fighters per ship to augment the mobile suits, along with 12 Aqua Darts in their bottom hulls.

The heavy transports carried mixed compliments of mobile suits, with 6 normal Strike-Daggers and 2 Buster-Daggers each in their holds. These would in turn be reinforced by an additional 108 Strike-Daggers that would be air-dropped by a transport flight of 36 planes whose arrival would be synced up to match that of the fleet.

The combined mobile suit count for the invasion force was impressive to say the least: there were 537 Neo-Aile pack-equipped Strike Daggers, 300 regular Strike-Daggers, 64 Buster-Daggers, and the second generation GAT-series prototypes. With a grand total of 871 mobile suits it was actually less than the amount of machines used by ZAFT's Operation Spitbreak force, but the units would be augmented by a far greater amount of conventional warships than their Coordinator Counterparts, along with 768 F-7D fighters and 384 Aqua Darts. When the Eurasian Home Fleet arrived they would add an additional 840 Su-63K fighters and another 108 Aqua Darts to the Alliance forces; the final nail in the coffin for the Orb Union.

To follow up the mobile suits as they advanced into Orb territory was the infantry aboard the Titan-class troop transports. Each vessel was the size of a luxury liner, and could carry 5,000 soldiers to the battlefields apiece, making for 150,000 men and women that would be storming the beaches in smaller landing craft deployed from the mammoth transport ships. An additional 10,000 paratroopers would be dropped in behind enemy lines once air-superiority had been established.

"Orb will fall before our overwhelming power," Azrael whispered, grinning sinisterly, "not even the Archangel and Wing Zero will be able to save them. We will be able to wipe out both the traitors and the Coordinator sympathizers in a single attack. Once Bernard's forces have retaken Africa we can then turn our attention completely to outer space… and wipe out the abominations once and for all."

….

Athrun Zala was conflicted as he made his way down the hall of the research facility to the top secret berth where his new machine was being held. Bits of the briefing he'd just had with his father kept playing through his mind, outlining his first assignment since his fateful duel with Kira over the Marshall Islands months ago.

"Intelligence has confirmed that the legged ship is in Orb," said Patrick Zala, "The Alliance has amassed an invasion fleet and is moving to attack that nation in order to bring it officially under their umbrella. After what happened at Alaska, we believe the legged ship, along with its mobile suits, will be fighting against the Alliance forces."

"This is an ideal opportunity," his father continued, "You will be able to use the confusion of the battle to secure the Freedom and then take down Wing Zero. Kill anyone who witnesses your actions; the Justice must remain a secret for the time being."

The young man looked down at the floor, the burden on his shoulders having never felt so heavy. His father's words were not the only ones going through his mind; he remembered his conversation with Lacus, her revelation that not only was Kira alive, but that he was the pilot of the Freedom, and was back with the legged ship. Just as important was Lacus's statement that Kira was not fighting for the Earth Forces, but to bring the war to an end in a manner that did not involve acts of mass-murder.

Can I… can I really fight Kira again?, he thought, After all that's happened since that battle… after my father tried to kill Lacus… can I truly keep following his orders?

It wasn't just his assignment to fight both the Freedom and Wing Zero that had him so worried. His father's last orders had shocked him, chilled him to the bone.

Kill all witnesses, he thought, but what if those witnesses are innocent civilians, or Orb soldiers? What if… what if one of them is Cagalli? Orb's her homeland, and I bet she'd be willing to fight for it. I… I can't kill her!

As he continued down the hallway, the young pilot found himself torn between two imperatives. One was his duty as a soldier of ZAFT, to follow the orders of his superiors. The other was his own heart… which was desperately looking for a way out of the situation that did not involve killing either his old friend or the girl he had come to care about, and practically screaming at him that something was very wrong with his father. The latter feeling was only amplified by the news he had received of Siegel Clyne's death and Lacus's flight from the capitol. He didn't know many of the details regarding the raid on the moderate meeting, but the rumors he had heard were of a brutal firefight with casualties on both sides. More importantly, he'd also heard that Lacus had been present at the meeting… meaning Athrun's father had once again been trying to kill her as well.

Father, he though, disgusted, how could you even think of trying to kill Lacus? I know she aided in the theft of the Freedom, but… you're going too far! Lacus didn't want to hurt anyone, and I'm sure she still feels that way… even after your men killed her father. She just wants this war to end without further escalation. Why are you so dead set against that?

"Hello, Special Operations Agent Zala," said a voice, causing Athrun to look up. He realized that he was standing in front of the door to the top-secret hangar, and a security guard was right next to it. "Everything alright, sir?" the guard asked.

Athrun nodded, forcing his mind back to the here-and-now, doing his best not to dwell upon what would happen when he finally encountered Kira and his comrades. "It's nothing," he replied, "May I go in? The Supreme Chairman wants me to get my mission underway."

The man nodded. "Yes, we were told to expect you and let your through at once. Good luck in your mission, Agent Zala."

"Thanks," said Athrun as he passed through the door.

The hangar was alive with activity, with techs racing to make final adjustments to the magnificent machine within it. Even in its dull gray form, with its Phase Shift Armor powered off, the ZGMF-X09A Justice was an imposing sight to behold. It was definitely larger than his old Aegis, and the sense of power it exuded was impossible to ignore.

Was this how Kira felt, thought Athrun, when Lacus gave him the Freedom? Despite the grimness of his situation, the young man could not help but be in awe of the prototype mobile suit in front of him. At its waist were two beam sabers and a beam rifle, while on the shoulders were mounted two beam-boomerangs, similar to the one mounted on the Strike's Sword configuration. Attached to the back of the unit was a large flight backpack, which according to the files Athrun had read could detach from the mobile suit and be operated remotely, or be used by the Justice as a platform for increased mobility in atmosphere. Two beam cannons were attached to the backpack. In the normal configuration they would aim over the Justice's shoulder, while in use as a flight platform they would be aiming forward beneath the machine's feet. A large shield was mounted on the mobile suit's left arm, offering much more coverage than the smaller one that had been on the Aegis.

A mixture of trepidation and excitement went through Athrun as he made his way towards a nearby locker room to change into a flight suit. On the one hand, what the machine represented was very unnerving; a nuclear powered machine, a violation of the PLANT vow to never use such power after the Bloody Valentine Tragedy. However, the pilot in Athrun couldn't wait to take control of the mobile suit and put it through its paces. The young man had a fondness for machines, and the mobile suit he had been entrusted with was one of the most advanced pieces of technology in the Earth Sphere; to say he was curious as to what it could do was an understatement.

After he changed into his flight suit he left the locker room and made his way towards the boarding platform. One of the mechanics nodded at him as he approached. "Agent Zala," he said, "the unit's all ready to go. Just give our tech crews a minute or two to get clear before you fire her up."

"Understood," said Athrun, nodding in return, "thank you for having it ready on time."

"Good luck in your mission, sir," said the mechanic before he began making his way towards the hangar exit.

Entering the mobile suit and closing the hatch, Athrun sat idle for a couple minutes as he gave the mechanics ample time to clear the area around the Justice. He took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his nerves, but they had little effect. Try as he might, he could not quell his inner turmoil regarding the mission. The gap between his duties as a soldier and his personal feelings was just too wide, and the young pilot knew that there was no way he would be able to reconcile the two. He would have to choose: loyalty to ZAFT, to his father… or to Lacus and Kira, their friends and their ideals, their hope for a future where Coordinators and Naturals could truly live in peace.

"Damn it," he whispered, "I don't… I don't know what to do."

Deciding that enough time had passed, and desperate to take his mind, however briefly, off his conflicting thoughts, he began the power-up sequence for the mobile suit. The screens and consoles around him flashed to life, and he could practically feel the energy provided by the machine's nuclear reactor coursing through the unit's wires and control surfaces. He initialized the Justice's Phase Shift Armor, and a separate display showed a graphic representation of the mobile suit changing color from gray to burgundy.

Scanning the myriad of monitors around him, he ran through his pre-flight checks. Weapons, engines, power, N-Jammer Canceller, sensors, hydraulics, armor…, he thought, running over the major components one by one, …everything looks good.

"This is Special Operations Agent Athrun Zala," he said over the radio, "requesting launch clearance."

"This is Control," came the reply, "we're opening the doors now. You're clear for launch. May our Justice illuminate the stars."

I didn't ask for crappy poetry, thought Athrun, grimacing.

"Athrun Zala," he said, "Justice, launching!"

He was rocked back in his seat as he hit the throttle and the engines roared to life, rocketing him down the launch-way and out of the colony. Wow, he thought, his eyes widening, these thrusters have some serious kick to them!

As he hit open space he further increased the acceleration, rapidly leaving Aprilius One in the dust. The Earth was visible far in the distance, though it would be several hours before the Justice would be entering the atmosphere.

He had time to think about what he would do when he arrived in Orb… though of course, it was not nearly enough time for Athrun to make such a heavy and consequential decision.

My father, he thought as the Justice zoomed through space, or Kira? My last remaining family, or my old friend? The military and government I swore to serve and protect… or the people that are trying to bring this war to an end without escalating it? Damn it, what's the right choice?

He knew he would have to make up his mind soon. If Athrun's heart was still torn when he entered the battle, if his mind was not focused… then he would be flying to his death.

….

"Everyone, please take your seats," said Colonel Kisaka, "time is of the essence, and we need to get this briefing underway post haste."

Heero looked over at Murrue, who nodded at the Orb Special Forces officer before moving to sit down in the front row. Heero settled in to her left, while Kira and La Flaga sat down to the Gundam pilot's left. Cagalli was with them as well, and Orb's tomboy princess grabbed a seat next to Kira. Scanning the room, Heero saw several admirals and generals that he assumed would be leading the various defense forces in the coming battle break up their private conversations and take their seats. In addition to them, Heero also saw Erica Simmons and Lord Uzumi standing off to the side of the large screen in front of the amphitheater, which currently had displayed on it a map of Orb's main island and the surrounding ocean.

It had been three days since the Alliance deadline had passed, and Heero was sure that by now the enemy fleet was closing in on Orb. The early morning briefing had no doubt been called because the battle was now less than a day away, or perhaps mere hours now. The air was thick with tension and anticipation, and the promise of the imminent confrontation had everyone on edge. Heero was no exception; the wrath that he had kept hidden in the depths of his heart was once again stirring, eager to make its presence known, to unleash itself upon the Atlantic Federation armada. Of course, outwardly he showed no signs of this; his demeanor was as cool as ever. However, that image of calm and control that had been so natural for him to exude was a little more forced now as the Gundam pilot found himself fighting an inner battle with the beast that he was trying to keep locked away within himself; the slow-burning fury at the Atlantic Federation, whose forces he would soon be engaging. Once again the memories of their betrayal of Murrue at Alaska flashed through his mind, a treachery that had nearly cost the woman he loved her life. It was something that the Perfect Soldier would never forgive, never forget… and the time to make those responsible for it answer for their crimes was fast approaching.

Taking a deep breath in an effort to center himself and bring a temporary calm to the struggle he was waging with himself, Heero turned to Murrue again. The beautiful Captain was a picture of determination and courage, and her lovely brown eyes burned with resolve. She had made her choice to stay and fight, and would do all she could to protect the nation that had offered her and her crew a dearly needed sanctuary. Seeing her like that was enough to, for the moment, bring a sense of calm focus over the young man. Keep it together, Heero, he thought, Murrue needs to concentrate on the coming battle; the last thing she needs to do is worry about you. Get a grip; if you want to protect her then be the soldier she expects you to be.

Murrue looked over at Heero and smiled. "Well, we've done all we can to prepare," she said, "I guess I'm about as ready as I'll ever be for something like this. How about you, Heero?"

He nodded, giving her a slight smile in return. "I'm ready, Murrue."

The two of them turned back to the front of the briefing amphitheater where Kisaka was busy making adjustments to the screen. Eventually groups of dots representing ships, mobile suit and fighter squadrons, and ground units appeared all over the map. The Atlantic Federation forces were in blue, while the Orb Union's were yellow.

There was a lot more blue than yellow.

Kisaka cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Atlantic Federation armada is now approximately six hours away from our territory. Muruta Azrael, the head of Blue Cosmos, has sent us one final surrender demand, which we have refused. There is no turning back now; we have to fight."

He pressed a button on the remote in his hand, and the screen zoomed in on the blue icons representing the Alliance forces. "The entirety of the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Combined Fleet," Kisaka continued, "with the exception of the forces lost at Panama, is in bound for Orb. We have pulled back all forces from our smaller outlying islands; we will concentrate our defenses on our mainland, as Intelligence has already indicated that it is the enemy's primary target."

"What's the word on the forces they're throwing at us?" asked La Flaga, "How many bad guys we looking at?"

"More than we've ever seen in an armada before," said Kisaka grimly, "our analysts believe this force rivals the fleet ZAFT assembled for Operation Spitbreak, if not surpass it."

Stunned whispers and gasps rippled through the audience. Kira, Cagalli, and La Flaga all had expressions of pure shock on their faces, while Heero saw Murrue's expression become grim. He certainly couldn't blame her, considering how bad the First Battle of Alaska had been.

"The ship count for the armada," Kisaka continued, "stands at 322 vessels. This figure includes both direct combat warships and support craft such as transports, freighters, and tankers."

"God damn…" whispered La Flaga.

"I'm afraid the bad news doesn't end there," said the Colonel, sighing, "according to Intelligence, all of the Atlantic Federation's Spengler-class fleet carriers have been modified to carry mobile suits; specifically, mass production Strikes outfitted with full-flight capable Aile-packs. The units lack Phase Shift Armor, but their sheer numbers will make up for the defensive deficiency. Also, the fleet's heavy armor transports have been refitted to carry mobile suits as well. Based on photographs taken by high-altitude drones we believe they are carrying a mix of ground based mass production Strikes and Busters."

"They're not wasting time in fielding those machines," said Murrue, "given the Atlantic Federation's industrial capabilities I suppose it's no surprise that they've already been able to build so many of the new units. Still… it's hard to imagine they've already completed enough to completely replace conventional armored units for a force like this."

"Agreed, Captain Ramius," said Kisaka, "unfortunately, all evidence points to exactly that."

"They're eager to reclaim the initiative in this war," said Heero, causing the others to look at him, "now that they have their own mass production mobile suits the Alliance no doubt wants to use its greater resources to field a force ZAFT can't hope to match. Up until now the only way they could win battles was through overwhelming numbers, and even then their losses were heavy; now that they have mobile suits that Naturals can use they can fight ZAFT on a more equal footing."

"Indeed," said Kisaka, nodding, "and the Alliance wants to make the most of their newfound power by seizing complete control of the Earth. Once they've achieved that objective we have no doubt they will turn their full attention to the PLANTs."

"We can only imagine the kind of buildup ZAFT will initiate to counter this, if they haven't begun one already," said Lord Uzumi, "Patrick Zala will not stand by while the Alliance builds a mobile suit force to rival his own; their factories are probably working overtime to replenish their recent losses."

"It's ominous," said La Flaga, "but what ZAFT's doing in orbit doesn't really affect us at the moment."

"True," said Kisaka, "in addition to the mobile suits on the ships, a large group of transport planes was loaded with additional machines. They're on their way to Orb as well, and we predict they will sync their arrival with that of the armada; then they'll drop their units."

"What's your estimate of the enemy mobile suit count?" asked Murrue.

"Our best guess," said Erica Simmons, her expression grim, "is around 800 machines, including both land and air units."

"How many we can we field?" asked Cagalli.

"We'll come to that in a moment, Lady Cagalli," Erica replied, "Colonel Kisaka has not finished outlining the enemy's strength."

"Oh, come on," Cagalli replied, exasperated, "what else can they hit us with?"

"Quite a bit," sighed Kisaka, "the armada includes several Angler-class escort carriers. These ships have not been refitted to carry mobile suits; they have their standard compliments of conventional craft. While they are naturally not nearly as strong as mobile suits, their numbers are still formidable; Intelligence estimates they have around 760 F-7D Spearhead fighters and 380 Aqua Dart attack submersibles."

Orb's fiery princess slumped in her seat. "I wish I hadn't asked," she muttered glumly.

"Looks like they still haven't completely ditched their old combat doctrine," said Murrue, her eyes narrowing, "overwhelming numbers of conventional fighting vehicles is still the order of the day. They're just starting to replace them with mobile suits; the transition isn't complete."

"That is true," said Kisaka, "however, that does not change the fact that we are heavily outnumbered in this fight."

"So what do we do?" asked Kira, "How does Orb plan to fight against the Alliance invasion fleet?"

"As I said before," Kisaka reiterated, "we've pulled back all our forces to our mainland. Only through coordination between our air, naval, and ground forces do we stand a chance at surviving this battle."

"Our backs are to the wall, so to speak," said Lord Uzumi, "the only way Orb will remain an independent nation is if it inflicts such losses on the Alliance fleet that they deem conquering our nation to be more costly than it is worth." He sighed. "With fanatics like Muruta Azrael leading their forces that will not be an easy task."

"So what's our game plan?" asked La Flaga, "You guys refused to surrender, so I'm assuming you're not going to just sit back and do nothing while they invade your country. Like the princess asked earlier, what do we have to hit back with? Aside from the Archangel and its mobile suits, I mean."

Kisaka nodded and hit another button on the remote. This time the screen zoomed in on the Orb forces. Heero's eyes narrowed as he focused on the units arrayed, particularly the Orb Navy. Its fleet was roughly half the size of the Alliance invasion force, and its warships were top of the line combat vessels. There were ten heavy carriers, broken up into five pairs, with each pair heading up a battle group. The rest of the fleet's ships were allocated evenly through the battle groups. Each group had 3 light carriers, 5 missile cruisers, and 18 destroyers. In addition, 6 Wanizame-class attack submarines each were allocated to the task forces. Finally, each battle group had 4 modified freighters attached to it, listed as Underwater MS Carriers. From his discussion with Erica Simmons nearly two weeks ago Heero knew that each vessel had a compliment of four Pisces submersible mobile suits. The total number of ships in the Orb fleet was 190 vessels, and of those 145 were direct combat units; the carriers and modified freighters naturally had minimal weaponry beyond their CIWs, anti-air cannons and surface-to-air missile launchers.

"Unfortunately for us," said Erica, "only one of our Akagi-class fleet carriers, the Kaga, has been completely refitted to carry the new Aries air combat mobile suits; it holds sixteen of them. The other nine ships, along with all 15 of the Zuihō-class light carriers, are outfitted with the standard CF-89 Washi fighters."

"The Akagi-class fleet carriers," said Kisaka, "hold 75% the fighter compliment of the Eurasian Federation heavy carriers; they have 36 aircraft each. As for the Zuihō-class light carriers their fighter capacity is also 75% that of the Eurasian and Atlantic Federation escort carriers, at 18 planes apiece."

"This doesn't mean that the only Aries suits flying in the battle will be those launched form the Akagi," said Erica, smiling, "we've managed to produce quite a few of those machines, and have positioned them at our main airbases along with our I-220 Suzume interceptors. We have 162 Aries mobile suits ready to launch from ground facilities. When combined with the 16 units aboard the Kaga that will be 178 machines."

"What about underwater mobile suits?" asked Heero, "You told me before that each of your modified freighters carriers 4 Pisces submersible MS; since there's twenty of the ships that holds them that gives the fleet 80 machines. Are those all you have to fight the Aqua Darts with?"

"We have an additional 20 units standing by at shoreline facilities," said Erica, "of all our new mobile suits the Pisces is among those with the fewest machines built, only beaten out in that category by the Tragos, but the ones that we have completed should be enough to take on the Atlantic Federation Aqua Dart squadrons. The odds against our Pisces teams will be slightly less than four-to-one, which is actually a slight edge in our favor; remember, Heero, that the Alliance conventional forces normally only achieved victories over ZAFT mobile suits when the odds were around five-to-one. The fighting will still be difficult, of course, and our pilots have only been training on the new machines for a few weeks while the Alliance Aqua Dart pilots are all veteran soldiers. Still, the Pisces is by far the superior unit, and we believe it will allow us to go head to head with the Alliance underwater combat forces on an even footing and give us a chance to triumph… a chance we would not have had without you, Heero."

"Indeed," said a fleet admiral sitting near the back of the room, "the Orb fleet is in your debt, pilot Yuy; without the Pisces the Atlantic Federation Aqua Darts would overwhelm our warships and conventional submarines. Thank you, Yuy. We are in you debt."

Heero shook his head. "Don't mention it."

"What about fighters?" asked Murrue, "You said Orb can only field 178 Aries mobile suits for aerial combat, which means your conventional combat aircraft will still have a major part to play in the coming battle."

"For the carrier based fighters," said Kisaka, "we have 594 CF-89 Washi multi-role fighters. In addition to that we have 300 I-220 Suzume interceptors stationed at various air bases."

"That's a total of 894 aircraft," said La Flaga, smiling, "we actually outnumber them in terms of fighters."

"Yes," said Erica, nodding, "however, many of those fighters will be busy helping the Aries mobile suits engage the flight-capable mass production Strikes… and we're expecting heavy losses. You've been flying mobile armors and fighters for a long time now, La Flaga; you know how they typically fare against their mobile suits counterparts."

The blond ace's expression became grim. "Yeah, you're right about that. Considering how many you'll have to divert to fight the enemy airborne mobiles suits, even with Kira, Heero, the Aries units, and myself in the fray it'll be quite the uphill battle."

"Indeed," said Kisaka, "and the ground engagement won't be any easier. Between the mobile suits carried in the transport ships and those we're expecting to be air dropped, we're anticipating that the Alliance will field between 340 to 380 ground units. We don't know the exact composition of their ground forces yet, but are expecting a mix of the mass production Strikes and Busters."

"How many ground mobile suits do we have to counter with?" asked Heero.

"140," Kisaka replied, "120 of which are M1 Astrays, while the remaining 20 are the Tragos heavy artillery mobile suits."

"Why do we have so few of the M1s ready for battle?" asked Cagalli, "I thought they were supposed to be the main mobile suit for our forces."

"Because the M1 isn't just meant for the defense of the Orb mainland," said Erica, "we've also been shipping suits to our Eden and Elysium colonies to support the Taurus units that are being built to defend them. We're determined that they avoid the fate of Heliopolis, especially since a large number of refugees are fleeing to those colonies."

"It's also a simple matter of resources," said Lord Uzumi, "there are only so many machines we can build so quickly, and our industrial facilities have been stretched to the limit in building up our forces in preparation for this day. We are not the Atlantic Federation or ZAFT; our raw materials and work force are considerable, but they can't hope to match those of the two superpowers."

"In constructing several different types of mobile suits for the defense of Orb," said Kisaka, "we've been forced to limit how many of each we can build. It was a tradeoff we had to make in order to maximize the ability of our military to be able to respond to the widest possible variety of enemy attacks."

"It's a difficult choice," Murrue chimed in, "but I understand why you took that course of action; you need mobile suits capable of supplementing your conventional forces in the air, sea, and on land. If you'd focused on just the M1 you'd have a more powerful ground force, but you'd only have regular fighters and naval units to meet the rest of the Alliance's assault. Your casualties would be horrendous against something like their new full flight-capable mass production Strikes."

"An astute observation, Captain Ramius," said Erica, nodding, "even with mobile suits like the Freedom, Tallgeese Kai, and Wing Zero on our side and capable of fighting in the air, the sheer number of flight-capable Strikes the Alliance is fielding would be overwhelming if we only had conventional fighter jets to back up Kira, La Flaga, and Heero." Morgenroete's Chief Engineer then sighed. "As it stands now, with units like the Aries acting in cooperation with our conventional fighters and your own pilots, we have a chance to survive, but I'm under no illusions as to the price we'll pay; even in victory, our losses will be very heavy."

"Our soldiers knew that there was the chance that they would be called upon to make this sort of sacrifice when they enlisted," said Lord Uzumi grimly, "they are aware that even winning, preserving Orb's sovereignty, will likely have a high price attached to it. All we can do is deploy them in the manner that gives us the best possible chance to drive back the Alliance forces and ensure that those that die will not have perished in vain."

Looking to his right Heero saw Murrue lower her head slightly and close her eyes for a moment, and he surmised that it was in grim contemplation of just how many would die in the coming battle. For someone who fights so hard to keep the people serving under her safe, Heero thought, knowing that losses will be unavoidable, even if they may not be of the men and women directly under her command, is a difficult prospect for Murrue to face. As a soldier of course she's trained to expect it, and she dealt with it well with regards to the orbital battle, the losses suffered by the resistance fighter in North Africa, and our allies at Alaska, but it still weighs heavily upon her, all the more so because as Captain any order she makes could result in the death of someone under her command.

For Murrue to have the strength to be able to constantly make decisions with many lives riding on them was something Heero marveled at, along with the fact that she showed such concern and compassion for both those directly under her command and those that were not, like the allied forces of the Orb military. For her, having a command role was a difficult burden to bear because she empathized with both her crew and her allies on a level that very few high ranking officers did. She refused to dehumanize people even though it would make dealing with the losses inevitable in war easier. She had chosen a difficult path for a commanding officer, but to Heero it was also the right path, and he had vowed to do all he could to help her bear the burdens that came with it.

Heero gently took Murrue's left hand in his right. She opened her eyes and turned to him, and Heero did his best to give her a reassuring look. He nodded slightly, and he saw her do the same while giving his hand a quick squeeze. It was a silent acknowledgement, thanks for his continued support and loyalty to her.

The two of them then returned their attention to the front of the room as their hands parted, listening intently as Kisaka continued the briefing. He pressed a few buttons on his remote, and the screen zoomed out far enough to encompass both the Alliance and Orb fleets. Orb's five battle groups were arrayed with their backs to the coast facing north, where the Alliance Fleet was coming from. The enemy armada was arrayed into three groups, with the central one appearing to be made up of half the ships in the fleet, while the formations flanking it were half the size of the one in the middle. The destroyers, cruisers, and light carriers made up the forwards lines, while the heavier carriers, transports, and supply ships were naturally further back in the armada. Turning his attention to the Orb fleet, Heero saw a single white blip in the middle of the centermost of the five battle groups, and he knew it was the Archangel.

"Based on their current heading and formation," said Kisaka, "we're now certain that the enemy will focus their attack on our northern coast. The Kaguya mass driver and spaceport is near the center point of this area, and we know the Alliance is desperate to take the facility in order to regain access to outer space. The Archangel and the Orb Third Fleet will defend the coastline in front of the spaceport, and will also be assisting the Army with the defense of Kisiragi."

Kisaka input more commands into the remote, and the yellow dots that represented the Orb fleet, air force, and ground units began to move around on the map. "The First and Second Fleet," he said, "will advance to engage the right wing of the armada, while the Fourth and the Fifth will hit the right. We'll be throwing all our Aries mobile suits into these two pincers, along with a considerable amount of our conventional fighters. Our goal here is to keep the enemy's forces from spreading out and landing troops at too many locations. If we can force them to land on a narrower front we have a better chance at beating them back even if they manage to get units ashore."

"That will funnel most of their forces towards the beaches along Kisiragi," said Cagalli, "the city will be destroyed in the ensuing fight!"

"Which is why it has already been evacuated," said Lord Uzumi, "the only people in Kisiragi now are our own soldiers fortifying their positions. If we can bog the Alliance forces down there we can contain their advance and eventually drive them back into the sea. Yes, the city may well be destroyed in the process, but better Kisiragi be demolished then all of Orb fall to Azrael and his ilk."

"Not all of the enemy landing forces will be funneled to Kisiragi," said Kisaka, "the Kaguya spaceport will also be within that front. Both locations are being reinforced as we speak in preparation for enemy action, though we are willing to bet the Alliance will tread more carefully with regards to Kaguya than Kisiragi."

"They can't risk destroying the mass driver," said Heero.

"Precisely," said Lord Uzumi, nodding, "that will give our forces stationed at Kaguya some added cover. The Alliance forces will advance on the spaceport cautiously; that will give us a chance to drive them back."

"What about the enemy air units supporting the landing?" asked Murrue, "You said most of your airpower would be focused in the pincer attack, along with all the Aries mobile suits; how are you planning to counter what will likely be a substantial portion of the Alliance's full-flight Strikes and fighter jets?"

"The carrier aircraft of the Third Fleet will provide some support," said Kisaka, "and the anti-air firepower of the Archangel and our own warships will be able to take down some of the enemy mobile suits and fighters. However, the heaviest burden will fall upon the Freedom and the Tallgeese Kai." The Colonel looked at Kira and La Flaga, his eyes narrowing. "Are the two of you prepared to shoulder that responsibility?"

Kira nodded. "If it's the best way for us to protect Orb, then yes."

"Hang on a second," said La Flaga, his brow furrowing, "I've got no problem with this plan, but aren't you leaving someone out of it? What about Heero? I know you haven't forgotten about Wing Zero, Kisaka."

"No, I have not," the Colonel replied, "I did not mention pilot Yuy because we have another role in mind for him, should he chose to accept it."

"What do you want Heero to do?" asked Murrue.

"Simply put," said Lord Uzumi, "attack the center of the Alliance fleet."

The Gundam pilot could feel all eyes in the room turn towards him. Everyone was looking at him with expressions ranging from dubious to shock. Heero couldn't blame them for their surprise and skepticism; even with word getting around about what he had done at Alaska, he knew hearing Orb's leaders ask him to attack a fleet that was larger than the entire navy of their country head on would not be an easy thing to swallow. For his part, the Perfect Soldier would not deny that it was certainly a daunting task; he would be flying into the teeth of the armada, after all.

Still, in a way there was a sense of familiarity to such an assignment. It had a lot in common with his early missions after the launch of Operation Meteor, namely the objective of doing as much damage as possible to the enemy forces. The fact that he would once again be fighting a fleet that was part of an 'Earth Alliance' further added to the strange sense of nostalgia he was now feeling.

And there was another, darker aspect to the role they wanted him to play in the battle; it would give him free reign to maul the heart of the enemy fleet, something that the wrath locked away in his heart was all too eager to do. With no friendly forces nearby, surrounded only by enemies, he would have the freedom to truly cut loose. The calm, rational part of him resisted the idea; for all his power and skill, Heero knew he was ultimately less effective at fighting when he allowed the Zero System to take over than when he imposed his own will on it. Unleashing his pent-up cold fury against the enemy fleet would give the Zero System a perfect window to take control, to drive him into an indiscriminate rampage. He would not be acting in accordance with his core belief of 'acting on his emotions'; rather, he would be allowing himself to be ruled by them, letting his wrath become his driving force. It was a path that the Perfect Soldier would normally be adamantly opposed to going down… but the memory of the Atlantic Federation's betrayal of Murrue at Alaska burned fiercely in his heart and mind, and the darker side of his protectiveness towards the beautiful Captain demanded that it be avenged.

"Heero," said Erica Simmons, "we need you to hit the Alliance forces head on. Their central battle group has by far the most firepower, and between the pincer attacks and defending the coast our fleet will have its hands full. Wing Zero has the speed and the firepower needed to make such an attack, and you have the skills necessary to pull it off."

"Hold on," said Murrue, concern clear in her voice, "there has to be another way! You can't ask Heero to take on such a force without support!"

"Murrue," said Heero, causing her to look at him, "it's alright." He smiled slightly in an effort to alleviate at least some of her worries. "There's no other way we stand a chance at surviving the coming battle; Wing Zero has to hit the enemy center in order to blunt the invasion."

"Heero," said Murrue, "you still don't have to do it by yourself. At least let me use the Archangel to support you!"

Heero shook his head. "Murrue, the Archangel will be needed to support the Orb Third Fleet in protecting Kaguya and Kisiragi. Even with me hitting the enemy fleet head on plenty of the Alliance forces will be able to go around me and move to support the landings. The Archangel is the most powerful warship in the Earth Sphere, and its strength will be vital in keeping the enemy from establishing a solid foothold on Orb soil."

There was another reason Heero didn't want Murrue to back him up with the Archangel, though of course he'd never tell her; if she was concerned now, she would be terrified if she knew that there was the possibility that he could go on a rampage. More importantly, the further away from Murrue Heero was, the less risk there would be of her getting caught in the crossfire should he begin to lose himself to the Zero System. Heero was determined that that did not happen.

Murrue sighed. "Alright, Heero. I still don't like this… but I understand why it has to be this way."

"I'll be fine, Murrue," Heero replied, "I just have to inflict enough damage to make the Alliance fleet withdraw; I don't have to fight the entire armada."

"Precisely," Lord Uzumi chimed in, "while the fleet pincers hit the flanks and the Third Fleet and the Archangel support our ground forces in defending the coastline, Wing Zero can hit the largest concentration of enemy vessels, not to mention their command-and-control capabilities. With the leadership of the armada under direct threat, the Alliance forces eventually have no choice but to retreat."

"Regarding their leadership," said Heero, "who's commanding the invasion? What's the flagship?"

"According to intercepted radio transmissions," said Kisaka, "Vice-Admiral Vickers is in charge of the armada; his flagship is the Spengler-class carrier Clinton."

Heero's eyes narrowed, the beast of vengeance in his heart rearing its head as it recognized the name of one of the four members of the Atlantic Federation High Command… one of the four officers that had tried to have Murrue killed at Alaska. To know that one of the bastards responsible for that treachery would be personally present on the battlefield… it was an opportunity Heero could not pass up.

The carrier Clinton, he thought, grim anticipation mixing with a dark excitement in his heart, I'll remember that… no matter what else happens, that ship will not leave the battle in one piece. Vickers… you're mine!

"Heero," said Murrue, snapping the Gundam pilot back to the briefing, "Are you alright?"

Heero realized that he had tensed up a bit at Kisaka's announcement, and that he was practically glaring at the Alliance fleet up on the screen. He forced himself to relax and turned to Murrue, nodding. "I'm alright Murrue, really."

She nodded, but the Perfect Soldier could tell that he had not completely allayed her worries. It meant a lot to him to know that she cared so much for him, but he also knew it was a distraction she could ill afford right now.

"There is one more thing," said Lord Uzumi, "we have received unconfirmed reports that Muruta Azrael himself will be with the invasion fleet. We have no word on whether or not he will be aboard the Clinton or will have his own ship; it's really just a rumor right now."

"He must be feeling really confident if he's with the armada," said Kira.

The Lion of Orb chuckled. "Well, it's hard to blame him for it, Kira Yamato. Besides, as I said before, the reports are all unconfirmed. Depending on signal traffic intercepted in the coming fight we may learn the truth. If he is here, then it just underscores how much importance the Atlantic Federation has placed on this operation."

"They really want the Kaguya mass driver," said La Flaga, "they're pulling out all the stops with this invasion force."

"Yes," said Erica, nodding, "and we must do the same if we hope to withstand their assault."

"We are past the point of no return," said Kisaka, "and our backs are to the wall. The only way out now is to fight. The odds against us are greater than any this nation has ever faced before, but if we give this battle everything we've got, then we have a shot at preserving our independence, our ideals, and our way of life."

"Orb is the last light of hope in this dark world," said Lord Uzumi, "it shines as an example that both races can live together in peace and harmony. Should it be consumed by the Alliance, I fear that will serve to accelerate the march to mankind's destruction."

"We'll do all we can to stop them," said Murrue, "We're ready to fight."

"That's right," said Kira, "we won't let the Alliance impose its will on Orb."

"You got that right," said La Flaga, grinning, "plus, I think we owe the Atlantic Federation a little payback for trying to kill us at Alaska."

More than a little, thought Heero, for what they did at Alaska… I'll show them no mercy.

….

Dearka sat up on the bed in his cell as he saw Miriallia approach. His eyes widened in surprise as the guard opened the cell and Miriallia passed him his neatly folded pilot's jumpsuit.

"Come with me," she said quietly.

"What's going on?" he asked as he followed her out of the brig.

"This ship will be going into battle soon," Miriallia replied, "The Captain wanted you to be released before the fighting begins."

Dearka was taken aback by the sudden announcement. "Wait, who are you guys going to fight? I thought we were in Orb; this nation's neutral. Who'd attack it?"

"The Earth Alliance" said Miriallia, "they demanded that Orb join them in their war against ZAFT. Orb refused, so the Alliance is preparing to invade the country and force them to submit; they'll be here in a matter of hours. We're going to do our part to defend Orb and fend off the attack."

"Hold on," said Dearka, "I thought you guys were with the Alliance. Why are you helping Orb fight against your country?"

"I'm not from the Alliance, remember?" said Miriallia, her eyes burning with determination, "Orb's my homeland, and I'll do all I can to protect it!"

"Right," said Dearka, "I forgot… sorry."

Miriallia sighed. "It's fine, don't worry about. Anyway, this ship and its crew abandoned the Alliance after they tried to kill us at Alaska. To them, we're traitors to be executed on sight. Orb was willing to offer us protection and asylum, so we're going to do all we can to help them in their hour of need. I'm no longer an Alliance soldier, nor is anyone else on this ship. We're just people who share Orb's ideals, who believe that they have the right to their independence, and that Coordinators and Naturals can live together in peace. That's all there is to it."

Dearka nodded. "I understand." He couldn't help but be worried about the girl as they continued through the ship's corridors. Knowing the Alliance, he was sure they would send a massive fleet to fight against Orb. Miriallia and her allies would be severely outnumbered… perhaps fatally so.

Another thought occurred to him. "Hey," he said, "what about the Buster? What about my machine?"

"It was the Alliance's originally," said Miriallia, "and Orb helped develop it; ZAFT simply stole it, remember? Anyway, it's already been removed from the ship; Morgenroete took it to their testing facility a few days ago." She looked over at him. "You didn't really think they'd let you leave with the Buster, did you?"

He sighed. "No, I guess you're right… I've just become sort of fond of it, that's all."

"I see," said Miriallia.

The two of them were quiet for the rest of the way. When they reached the starboard hatch the silence between them became awkward, as both of them seemed to want to say something but could not figure out exactly what it was.

After a moment Miriallia finally spoke up. "Listen, Dearka," she said, "I… I know we didn't meet under the best of circumstances, but I've enjoyed getting to know you. You're… a good person, and I'm glad we met."

Dearka nodded, smiling. "Yeah… you too, Miriallia."

She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, giving it to him. Looking at it, Dearka saw an email address written on it. Why give me this?

Dearka saw her smile at him, looking a little bashful. "You can contact me through that… if you want to," she said, "I mean, it's not like I have a working phone right now, so that's the best I can do. Look, I… I want to stay in touch, ok? We come from two different countries, and… well, there's a chance we could never see each other again. I… I would like to meet you again sometime in the future, when this is all over."

Dearka's eyes widened a bit before he smiled again. "Yeah… I'd like that too, Miriallia. I'll contact you as soon as I can, I promise."

Miriallia nodded. "I'll hold you to that. Take care of yourself, Dearka."

The young Coordinator nodded. "You too, Miriallia. Stay alive."

Their eyes met for a moment before they parted ways. As he walked down the gangway, Dearka felt mixed emotions war within him. On the one hand, he was finally free. He could get in contact with ZAFT, arrange for transport to Carpentaria, and finally rejoin his own side.

However, he was all too aware of the fact that Miriallia would soon be in grave danger. Regardless of how powerful the Archangel and it's mobile suits were, the sheer numbers that the Alliance was likely to field in the coming battle could very well be too much for them to handle, even with the help of the Orb military. There was a very real chance that Miriallia could die in the upcoming engagement… and that terrified Dearka.

I could leave, he thought as he walked through the docks towards a nearby exit, it would be so easy... but Miriallia can't leave. She's staying to defend her homeland, and… damn it!

It was in that moment that the young man knew that he could not return to ZAFT. He had become too attached to the young girl he had met during his time aboard the Archangel. Now, with her going into what would no doubt be an incredibly fierce battle… there was no way he could walk away now.

He had to help. He had to stay and fight.

But how?, he thought, I doubt I'd be able to convince the Orb or the Archangel's crew to let me fight with them; I was their prisoner until a few minutes ago, after all. What am I going to do?

Then Miriallia's words echoed in his mind. "Morgenroete took it to their testing facility a few days ago."

The Buster, he thought, his eyes narrowing, I can use that! He remembered the Morgenroete testing facility from his infiltration mission with Athrun and the rest of his old team a few months ago. It wouldn't be easy to get inside and find his machine, but it was the best option he had.

Hang on, Buster, I'm coming, he thought, determination coursing through his veins, You and I have another battle to fight, and a girl to protect! We've been sitting on the sidelines for too long now; time we got back in the game.

….

Kicking back in the special ready room aboard the carrier Powell reserved for him and his comrades, Orga Sabnak turned the page of the novel he was reading. One of the three Biological CPUs that had been chosen to accompany the Atlantic Federation Pacific Fleet for the invasion of Orb, Orga was the unofficial leader of the trio. His appearance was normal enough, with blond hair that was swept back save for the bangs that framed his face and pale blue eyes. He wore a simple black and blue pilot's jumpsuit.

I'm bored, he thought, can we get this show on the road already? He was eager to get into battle, to prove what he could do; it was his first actual engagement after all. The same went for the other two pilots in the room with him.

They were kicking back as well, distracting themselves with their personal hobbies, which was good because normally they were constantly at each other's throats. To say that their personalities did not go well together was an understatement; they barely functioned as a team during their training exercises, and in fact mostly fought on their own unless the situation demanded that they work together. Orga had become more or less their leader because his personality was the most conventional and stable of the three, and even that was a stretch. The young man was reckless and aggressive, counting on the heavy firepower of his mobile suit, the GAT-X131 Calamity, to overwhelm his foes in exercises and keep him alive. His 'tactics' more or less consisted of throwing himself and his teammates headlong into the fray, each acting independently from then on out.

His fellow pilots were on opposite ends of the emotional and personality spectrums. Clotho Buer, a boy with light red hair and icy blue eyes, was… confrontational, to put it mildly. Wearing a black and yellow flight suit, the young man was currently occupying himself with a handheld game system, giving his teammates a welcome break from his usual griping. He was by far and away the most aggressive of the three Biological CPUs, and his personality during a fight was a lethal mix of pride and psychotic fury. His preferred method of engagement was to wildly charge in with the GAT-X370 Raider, mixing it up with the foes right in front of him while not paying any attention to his flanks. This meant that his teammates were constantly bailing him out of trouble, a fact that pissed Orga off to no end.

The third Biological CPU, Shani Andras, was a sharp contrast to the hot-blooded Clotho. The green haired young man, with a purple right eye and a gold left eye, and wearing a white and black flight suit, was quiet and anti-social. In between fights he would put on his headphones and tune out the rest of the world, preferring isolation to interaction. One thing he did share with Clotho was his preference for independent engagement, taking the GAT-X252 Forbidden into close-range fights with his foes and relying on its unique abilities to keep him out of trouble.

The three of them were quiet now, but Orga was already getting edgy, and he knew the others were too. It wasn't just due to the fact that their first real battle would be starting soon, but also because they would be receiving yet another dose of the performance enhancer that they needed to pilot their machines; Gamma Glipheptin. The spike in adrenaline, reflexes, and the ability to process information was like nothing Orga had ever felt before in his life. He was hooked to the substance, just as the other two Biological CPUs were. When they weren't piloting their machines they were given a suppressant drug that helped to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay, but it just wasn't the same as the super-soldier narcotic cocktail that gave the three young men their deadly piloting abilities. The longer they were kept off it, even with the suppressant drug in their system, the edgier they got, more irritable, until they were suffering almost as bad as they would under the actual stages of withdrawal from Gamma Glipheptin.

The last dose was a day ago, he thought, when Lord Azrael had us doing simulator exercises. We've gone longer than this without it, but still… damn it, I need that injection soon or I'm gonna start going crazy.

At that moment the door to the ready room opened, and Lord Azrael walked in. He smiled at the three young men. "I see you're ready to go," he said, "that's excellent. We'll be launching our attack in two hours, so you three need to get to the hangar and prep your machines. The doctors will be waiting for you there, and you'll get your doses before you launch."

"Understood, Lord Azrael," said Orga, nodding. Shani and Clotho nodded as well before putting their entertainment devices away, while Orga put his book down on the couch.

"You three are clear on your objectives, correct?" said Azrael.

"Yes sir," said Orga, "attack the Orb ground forces and help clear a beachhead for our landing forces."

"What about Wing Zero?" said Clotho, "Will we have to fight it too?" The young man actually sounded nervous, and Orga couldn't blame him. The three of them had been briefed on all of the enigmatic and powerful mobile suit's actions and battles since it had first appeared several months ago, and there was no denying that it was a formidable machine… perhaps too much even for the three of them to handle.

Azrael shook his head. "Our air squadrons will take care of Wing Zero. The three of you just need to focus on attacking the Orb military, along with that new mobile suit if you get the opportunity."

"Good," said Shani, "I can't wait to fight that guy."

"Yeah," said Clotho, grinning, "same here."

"Remember our mission," said Orga, "we'll attack the new model when we encounter it, but our main objective is to destroy the coastal defense forces."

"Orga is correct," said Azrael, glaring at them, "you will follow my orders… or you will not like the consequences. Is that understood?"

The three of them nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good," said Azrael, smiling again, "now, I believe you three should get going."

Orga and his teammates made their way out of the ready room and towards the hangar. The young man could feel the excitement building in his veins. Finally, he thought, smiling, no more simulator runs or training exercises; a real battle! This is going to be fun!

….

The bridge of the Archangel was alive with activity as the crew ran through the pre-launch checks. From her perch in the Captain's chair, Murrue observed her subordinates making the final preparations for the battle, a sense of pride swelling up within her. After all they've been through, she thought, smiling, most of them decided to stay and continue fighting. I'm sure each of them had their own reasons… regardless of what they were, I'm glad they're here. They're the best crew I could ever ask for, and I wouldn't go into battle with any other.

Checking her personal monitor, which was currently linked to one of the hangar cameras, Murrue saw the tech crews making final adjustments to the Tallgeese Kai, Freedom, Wing Zero, and the Skygrasper. The three mobile suit pilots were already inside their machines running through their own pre-flight checks; only the Skygrasper remained empty. Murrue was growing concerned that Cagalli might not make it in time.

Just then Lieutenant Tsukino's voice rang out from the CIC. "Captain, someone's approaching the ship from the dock. Bringing up the image… what the hell?"

Murrue smiled as she saw Cagalli running up towards the ship. The tomboyish princess had ditched her military uniform and was wearing her usual khaki pants and red shirt. "Let her on board, Lieutenant," said Murrue.

Tsukino looked up at her Captain for a moment. 'Ma'am, are you sure? I don't think she's supposed to be here."

Murrue nodded. "I've already spoken with Cagalli about this; she wants to pilot the Skygrasper and help us in the battle. I gave my consent. Now, let her come aboard, Lieutenant."

Tsukino nodded. "Aye, Captain." She then smiled slightly. "I have a feeling Lord Uzumi doesn't know about this, does he ma'am?"

Murrue shook her head. "Don't concern yourself with it, Lieutenant." She then smiled as well. "Cagalli summed it up nicely a few days ago; easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission."

The Lieutenant nodded again, smirking. "Roger that, Captain."

Murrue returned her attention to the bridge at large as Cagalli boarded the ship. A few minutes later she heard the doors behind her open. Looking over her shoulder she saw the tomboy princess run up to her before stopping to catch her breath.

"Sorry… I'm late… Captain," gasped Cagalli.

"It's alright, Cagalli," said Murrue, "I'm just glad you were able to make it before we launched."

The blond girl smiled. "It took me a little longer that I thought it would to sneak away from the others and get here; Kisaka was watching me like a hawk until my father finally called him over to discuss something. That was when I made a break for it. I doubt it will take them long to realize I've gone missing."

"Well, you're here now, and we'll be launching shortly," said Murrue, "get down to the hangar and get ready for takeoff. They Skygrasper's being fitted with the Launcher load out and will be ready soon. All you need to do is run through your preflight checks."

"Alright," said Cagalli, "I'll get a move on then." She smiled before she left. "Captain? Thank you for letting me fight with you guys. My father would never have understood… I'm glad you do."

"You're welcome, Cagalli," said Murrue, returning the smile, "I'm glad to have you with us."

"Happy to be here, Captain Ramius," said Cagalli before leaving the bridge.

I'm going to catch hell for this from her father, Murrue thought as she watched the girl exit the bridge, but I'm alright with that. I need every pilot I can get, and though Cagalli's past experience with the Skygrasper wasn't exactly stellar, she still knows how to pilot the fighter and put its capabilities to good use. Pairing her up with La Flaga and the Tallgeese Kai will increase her effectiveness. Besides, the two of them flew together during our big clash in North Africa, and they did quite well there; hopefully they can repeat that performance here.

"Message from dock control, Captain," said the radio operator, "they're opening the doors now."

Murrue nodded before turning to Ensign Neumann. "As soon as you have clearance, take us out and set a course for the north shore of the main island; we'll enter formation with the Orb Third Fleet as soon as we make contact with them."

"Yes ma'am," said the helmsman.

Murrue watched as the massive dock doors opened up in front of the Archangel. Then she felt the ship's engines thrum to life, and the massive white warship began to move out.

I won't launch the mobile suits yet, she thought, it'll be best to wait until we have confirmation of the enemy on our radar. Hopefully things are going well down in the hangar.

The main island wasn't too far removed from Onogoro. In fact, it was actually visible on the horizon, and at the speed the Archangel was going it would be only a matter of minutes before they would be cruising around the eastern side of the island and making their way towards the rendezvous point with the Orb Third Fleet in front of Kaguya.

Bringing up a map of the Orb mainland, Murrue's eyes narrowed as she studied the deployment of the allied forces. The left wing of the Third Fleet was able to provided some defense for the city of Kisiragi, but the bulk of the force was stationed out in front of the beach that ran from the city's edge to the Kaguya spaceport. The fleet will be able to give some fire support, she thought, but the bulk of the city's defense will fall to the ground forces stationed there. If they need help I suppose I can dispatch either Kira or La Flaga and Cagalli to aid them, though that will detract from the Third Fleet's own air power. Hopefully it won't come to that…

The overall situation was grim no matter how she looked at it, but what worried her most was not the defense of Orb's northernmost city or the Kaguya mass driver, but the safety of the incredibly young man who would be involved in the most dangerous part of the battle; attacking the center of the Alliance Fleet head on.

Heero, she thought as the Archangel cruised towards the Orb mainland, I know you've faced long odds before, and I have absolute faith in your abilities… but I do not like this plan. This forces too much onto your shoulders, and I'll only be able to support you from afar. She was hoping that Heero would remember to send her firing coordinates for the Archangel's missiles and heavy weapons so she could at least provide him some backup. Murrue knew that the bulk of the white warship's firepower would be needed to aide in the defense of the Orb coastline, but if Heero asked her for help then she would instantly deliver; supporting him had top priority in her heart and mind, regardless of what the Archangel's primary role in the battle was.

The ship moved swiftly over the waves, rapidly approaching its destination. There was still no word from the radar operator on the approaching Alliance armada, but Murrue knew it would not be long before that changed. Another large scale battle, she thought grimly, and so soon after our escape from Alaska. Our reprieve in Orb did not last nearly as long as I'd hoped it would. At least those who wanted to leave were able to do so; after all they've been through already, I have no right to force anyone to fight against their will. I'm glad they were able to evacuate with Orb's citizens… I just hope that wherever they go, the Alliance will not pursue them.

"Captain," said the radar operator, "I have the Orb Third Fleet on sensors."

Murrue nodded. "Helm, bring us into formation with the fleet."

"Aye, Captain," said Ensign Neumann.

As they moved towards the front-center of the Orb Third Fleet the communication's officer spoke up. "Captain, Lord Uzumi is on the line."

"Patch him through," said Murrue. I'm pretty sure I know why he's calling, she thought.

Orb's leader appeared on the main monitor. "Captain Ramius," he said, "Kisaka has reported that Cagalli is nowhere to be found in our Command Center." His eyes narrowed. "I know my daughter, Captain; she's aboard the Archangel, isn't she?"

Murrue nodded, not wanting to lie to the man that had given her crew sanctuary. "Yes sir," she said, "Cagalli approached me and asked that she be allowed to rejoin my crew and fly the Skygrasper. I gave her my consent… and I knew that you did not want her to fight on the front lines."

"Then why did you allow her to board the Archangel?" said Lord Uzumi, his voice rising, "Does my hospitality mean nothing to you, Captain?"

"On the contrary, Lord Uzumi," said Murrue, "I am very grateful for all you have done for us since we arrived in your country. However, Cagalli approached me out of the desire to defend her country, and to help her friends. She had prior experience with the Skygrasper, and had the determination and passion to fight for her beliefs and her people." She bowed her head. "I apologize for aiding in her defiance, Lord Uzumi, but please understand that this was not a decision I made lightly."

She then looked up at the Lion of Orb, meeting his glare. "I acted with the interests of both my ship and your country in mind, sir. We need every skilled pilot we can get our hands on if we're going to survive through today, and your daughter more than qualifies as one. I know that you wish to protect her as both your daughter and the heir to your throne, but Cagalli does not want to be held back and coddled. You need to give her the freedom to act on her emotions!"

"Do not tell me how to look after my daughter, Captain Ramius!" said Lord Uzumi, "I am sending a boat to retrieve her, and you will hand her over!"

It was at that moment that the radar operator interrupted. "Captain, multiple contacts approaching from the north… it's the Alliance!"

Saved by the enemy, she mused, I hope they're not expecting a thank you, because they won't get it.

Her eyes narrowed as she faced Lord Uzumi. "I'm afraid I can't do that, sir," she said firmly, "we've just picked up the enemy on our radar, and I need my pilots in the air at once… all my pilots, Lord Uzumi."

The Lion of Orb sighed, recognizing that he wasn't going to win this one. "Very well, Captain Ramius. In that case… please watch over my daughter."

"She'll be flying with La Flaga," said Murrue, "Cagalli's in good hands, I assure you."

"I hope you're right, Captain Ramius," said Lord Uzumi, "good luck."

As the Lion of Orb disappeared from the screen Murrue immediately began issuing orders. "All hands, Level One Battle Stations! Get the hangar doors open at once; Wing Zero and Freedom will launch first, followed by Tallgeese and the Skygrasper!"

She then turned to her personal monitor and contacted Wing Zero. She saw Heero appear on her screen, a fierce intensity in his Prussian blue eyes.

"Heero," said Murrue, "we've spotted the enemy on our long range sensors. Are you ready to launch?"

The young man nodded. "I'm good to go, Murrue."

His voice was calm, strong, and focused; not a hint of fear or hesitation. However, Murrue could not help but feel that there was something else behind the words. She didn't know what it was, and for all she knew she was imagining it… but it felt dark, almost menacing. It reminded her of his demeanor during the briefing earlier that day. There was a sort of ominous intensity about him, almost like he was looking forward to the fight. Something about the incredible young man that she had fallen in love with felt wrong, but she could not describe exactly what it was. She had asked him during the briefing, but he just responded that he was fine.

Heero, she thought, I know you don't want to worry me, but there are some things you can't hide from me. I know you, Heero, and whether you want to tell me or not, I can tell that something's not right with you.

Still, now was not the time to be second guessing him, to show any hint of doubt in him. Murrue had to believe that whatever was bothering Heero was something he would keep under wraps during the battle, and that he would be willing to come to her for help when things were calm again. She trusted him with her life… but she still couldn't help but worry for him.

"Heero," she said, "please be careful, alright? I know that the only way for us to get through this is for you to hit the enemy center head on while we defend the coastline… but please, don't hesitate to call for support if you need it. I swore to do all I could to back you up; I won't go back on that now."

"Roger that," said Heero. Then he signed off.

"Doors are open," said Miriallia, "Wing Zero, Freedom, you are clear to launch!"

Two blue comets shot out of the two 'legs' of the Archangel. The two powerful mobile suits soon split off, with the Freedom decreasing its speed and lagging behind while Wing Zero soared on ahead. Seconds later the Tallgeese Kai and the Skygrasper left the ship as well, forming up behind the Freedom.

"Radar," said Murrue, "get me a tactical overview of the battlefield!"

"Yes ma'am," said the sensor officer.

The image on the main monitor became a copy of the map that had been show in the briefing earlier that day, with the Alliance forces in blue, Orb in yellow, and the Archangel in white. Both sides were deployed in the manner that had been predicted earlier, with the Orb First and Second Fleets moving to engage the right wing of the Alliance armada, while the Fourth and the Fifth were mirroring them on the left. Meanwhile, the Orb Third Fleet and the Archangel were positioned to defend the northern coast, with much of their forces concentrated in front of the Kaguya mass driver and the surrounding shoreline. Behind them were the coastal defense forces; mobile suits and conventional ground vehicles in position and ready to fire on anyone that made it past the fleet.

Even with us concentrating on Kaguya and the shoreline that runs from it to Kisiragi, she thought grimly, we're still very spread out. If the Alliance brings forward enough ships, fighters, and mobile suits they'll be able to punch enough holes in our lines for the landing craft to get through. Not to mention there's the entire western side of Kisiragi that we can't cover directly; we can only direct some of our fire onto that approach. It doesn't matter how fiercely we fight out here, the Orb ground forces will have to engage the enemy eventually.

Swarms of smaller dots poured out from the larger blips on both sides; fighters and mobile suits launching from their carriers. Additional air units were launching from Orb's air bases, moving to give critical support to the naval aviation squadrons.

"Captain," said the sensor officer, "radar is picking up multiple high-altitude contacts over the Alliance fleet. They're C-350 transport planes, 36 of them!"

They'll be airdropping mobile suits from those, she thought, no doubt they'll sync their timing so they'll hit the ground just before any naval landing forces. The Orb air units would be unable to intercept them; the amount of fighters and flight-capable Strikes the Alliance was fielding would take up all their aerial combat strength.

"Sonar readings are off the scale!" cried the sensor officer, "Pisces underwater MS are moving to engage, and Aqua Darts are launching from the Alliance carriers!"

"Make sure to keep us elevated over the surface," said Murrue, "I don't want us catching any of their torpedoes!"

"Aye, Captain!" said Ensign Neumann.

"Weapons," said Lieutenant Tsukino, "coordinate anti-air fire with the Orb fleet. We need to help screen the carriers. Open up as soon as enemy air units come within range!"

"We have a visual on the enemy fleet!" said the sensor operator.

"Bring it up!" ordered Murrue.

The image on the main monitor shifted, and Murrue could see the silhouettes of the Alliance surface ships on the horizon. They were spread as far as she could see; carriers, destroyers, cruisers, transports, landing craft… the whole gamut of naval military might. No one had fired any shots yet, but it was only a matter of seconds before that changed.

Adjusting her personal monitor, Murrue brought up two images side by side on the small screen. On the right was a miniaturized version of the tactical map that had been displayed on the main screen earlier, while on the left was the image of Wing Zero rushing to meet a swarm of oncoming full-flight capable Strikes.

Heero, she thought as she watched the Gundam bring the fearsome Twin Buster Rifle to bear on the enemy formation, please, take care of yourself. Fly like I know you can, and come back to me alive.

I love you.

….

(Start "The Wings of a Boy Who Killed Adolescence")

Sighting in on the center of the enemy formation, Heero's eyes narrowed as his finger rested over the trigger. The sky ahead of him was full of enemy mobile suits and fighters, hundreds of them. Beyond them he could see the heart of the Alliance armada, his primary target. The young man's expression was that of focus and resolve, giving little hint of the struggle raging within him. The beast that was his wrath knew that battle was at last upon it, and was doing everything in its power to break free from the chains that bound it and wreak absolute havoc. For the moment, Heero's restraint was holding… but he did not know how long it would last.

In the midst of his inner turmoil his mind flashed back to the beginning of Operation Meteor… more specifically, to one of the orders he had been given regarding the mission. It was one that in the past he had obeyed on an irregular basis; it all depended on who he was facing. He had followed it when fighting against enemy soldiers during the Eve Wars, but had been unable to do so when it came to civilians.

"Those who see a Gundam shall not live to tell about it."

The Perfect Soldier decided now was the time to resurrect that order; none of the Alliance forces he encountered would be leaving the field alive. It was a dark omen to the start of the engagement; already he was giving his wrath an avenue to come forth. If he wasn't careful, it would slip its bonds entirely.

He pulled the trigger, unleashing a torrent of yellow-gold hellfire. It ripped through the center of the enemy formation, destroying a dozen mobile suits. I'll punch right through the middle, he thought as he gunned his engines, Kira and the others can handle whatever gets around me. Once I begin pounding the Alliance armada they'll recall some of their mobile suit and fighter squadrons to try and take me down; that'll take some of the heat off the others.

Igniting his emerald beam saber, he weaved through a veritable rain of green energy beams as the mass-produced Strikes returned fire. Closing rapidly with his foes, he impaled the nearest enemy machine, then whirled around and sliced another one clean in two. Diving to avoid another barrage of energy beams, he brought up the Twin Buster Rifle and cut loose with another large blast.

Ten more mass production Strikes burst into flames like a string of firecrackers. Several others caught the edge of the energy wave and began to retreat, their pilots struggling to keep their damaged machines airborne.

Heero didn't give them a chance to return to their carriers. Falling upon them like an avenging angel, he impaled one mobile suit through the back, then charged another one and cut it in half. He then struck down three more damaged units in rapid succession, his emerald blade tearing his foes apart.

The Perfect Soldier was brutal and ruthless as he cut down the last of the machines that had been damaged by his earlier attack… a clear indicator that, already, Heero was beginning to let his wrath take over his actions. While his fighting style always revolved around efficiency and maximizing enemy casualties, the Gundam pilot was normally not in the habit of finishing off damaged, retreating enemies.

A small part of Heero's mind was telling him something wasn't right, that he was descending down a dark road that he should not be taking… but the rest of it didn't care. The forces he was engaged with answered to the men who had set Murrue up to die at Alaska. For that kind of treachery, he would treat them to Hell on Earth.

He slashed another mobile suit with his beam saber, and then whirled around to block an attack as another unit ignited its yellow energy blade and struck at him. The Gundam pilot quickly parried the blow before slicing the machine's sword arm off and impaling it through the cockpit.

He gunned his thrusters to gain altitude, crossing blades with several more mass production Strikes in the process. Heero hacked and slashed his way through the pack, eviscerating eight mobile suits before he broke out of the enemy formation and set up for another shot with the Twin Buster Rifle. His position gave him a great view of the overall battle, and he took it all in at a glance as he prepared to fire on the mobile suits rushing up at him.

Off in the distance to both the northeast and northwest explosions dotted both the sky and the ocean; the pincers of Orb's naval and aerial attacks on both flanks were engaging the wings of the Alliance armada. Wing Zero's tactical display showed both sides fiercely slugging it out, though it was far too early into the clash to see who had the upper hand. The enemy had superior numbers, of course, but the simultaneous attacks on both sides had caught them temporarily off guard, and the Orb forces were holding their own for now.

Beneath him he could make out torpedo tracks and scattered explosions, signs of a vicious underwater battle unfolding just below the surface. Once again, the Orb underwater forces were severely outnumbered, but Heero knew from past experience how formidable the Pisces mobile suit could be when wielded properly, and Erica Simmons's upgrades had increased their effectiveness; numbers alone would not enable the Alliance Aqua Darts to win the day.

Meanwhile, the several of the destroyers and cruisers that made up the forward lines of the Alliance's center part of the armada were moving forward to engage the Orb Third Fleet and the Archangel. Both sides were already opening up, and while the Alliance could bring more guns and missiles to bear, the white warship at the head of the Orb forces defending the approach to the shoreline had firepower far surpassing any other vessel in the fight, and its beautiful Captain was already cutting loose with it. Four large emerald beams ripped into the charging enemy as the Gottfrieds opened up, turning two destroyers into fireballs. The Archangel opened fire with the Valiant heavy rail cannons as well, and a cruiser and another destroyer were torn in half as the massive rounds ripped through their hulls. Adding to the punishment was a quartet of Sledgehammer missiles arcing down from above, fired in two pairs. Each pair slammed into a destroyer, mauling their upper decks and sending shards of metal flying everywhere.

But the Alliance ships weren't taking the punishment lying down. The rest of the warships were already trading fire with the Third Fleet. Cannon shots and missiles sailed back and forth between the opposing forces, and both sides took hits. Still, even with their advantage in the number of warships they could bring to bear, the Alliance would not be able to punch through the Third Fleet without a fierce struggle, and it was one the Orb Navy and the Archangel were more than willing to give them.

However, even with the backing of the most powerful warship in the Earth Sphere, the Orb Third Fleet was unable to completely cover the beach approach, with its left flank ending just before the center of Kisiragi. While the Alliance's frontline warships pressed their assault, the enemy's armor transports and infantry landing craft were already moving up, doing their best to skirt along the side of the naval battle and make for the city's western coast, which was guarded only by the Orb Army. The large transport planes high above the confrontation were moving up as well in preparation to drop the mobile suits carried in their cargo bays.

The Alliance's surface and underwater units weren't the only ones moving to attack the center of Orb's defenses. Squadrons of fighters and mobile suits that had bypassed Heero were already moving up the field. However, just because they had gotten around Wing Zero did not mean they had an open shot at the Third Fleet. The Freedom, Tallgeese Kai, and the Skygrasper were in their path, supported by fighter squadrons from the nearby Nakajima airbase and the Third Fleet's carriers, along with anti-air fire from its warships.

Kira was wasting no time in going to work, opening up with the Freedom's impressive array of artillery. Green energy beams, crimson plasma blasts, and yellow rail cannon rounds impacted oncoming mobile suits with incredible precision, destroying weapons and knocking out the primary cameras located in the heads of the machines but not doing lethal damage. Igniting one of the Freedom's violet beam sabers, Kira began mixing it up in close quarters combat with the enemy, slicing off arms and heads of enemy mobile suits, parrying attacks from the yellow energy blades used by the mass-produced Strikes before severing the hands that held the weapons. The young Coordinator then broke away and set up for another bombardment with his ranged weaponry, cutting loose with a pinpoint accurate barrage that neutralized the combat capabilities of several more mobile suits and sending them packing.

The Tallgeese Kai dove into the fray, the machine's incredibly powerful vernier thrusters giving it such speed that it made its foes look like they were barely moving. The Hawk of Endymion speared one machine with his violet beam saber and then shot another one through the back with his beam rifle. He then whirled around to face several full-flight Strikes as they leveled their own rifles at him. Before they could fire thought, the four green disk-like Planet Defensors detached from the Tallgeese Kai's shoulders and arrayed themselves in a square in front of the mobile suit. A crackling energy shield materialized, and the enemy's shots dissipated against the barrier. La Flaga quickly returned fire, his own shots passing through the barrier and destroying three mobile suits. The Hawk of Endymion then deactivated the barrier, recalling the Planet Defensors as he zeroed in on another enemy unit to engage in close-quarters combat; the energy shield's power was not limitless, and it was in fact more restricted on the Tallgeese Kai due to the fact that the machine use a high-capacity battery rather than a nuclear reactor. Therefore the barrier was best used in brief bursts in order to maximize its effectiveness. Fortunately La Flaga had the skill necessary to fight with that limitation, relying more upon his mobile suit's incredible speed and agility and using the Planet Defensors only when he could not dodge enemy fire.

Crimson energy blasts took down two machines as they attempted to attack the Tallgeese Kai from behind, courtesy of Cagalli's Skygrasper. The Orb princess had learned a great deal from her past experiences with the fighter, and she was using it in a hit-and-run capacity, firing a few shots at the enemy before breaking off and setting up for another approach. Two Strikes tried to close the distance and engage the Skygrasper with their beam sabers, against which the plane had no defense, but they were intercepted by the Tallgeese Kai and promptly dispatched, one with the unit's beam saber and the other with the rifle. The Hawk of Endymion and the tomboyish princess worked well as a team, watching each other's back and covering their weak points.

Meanwhile, the Orb carrier and land-based fighters were joining the fray, launching missiles from afar before opening up with their machine guns as they closed the distance. The Orb pilots tried to avoid the enemy mobile suits and concentrate mainly on the Alliance's F-7D Spearhead fighter jets, against which they had a much better chance at prevailing, but the sheer numbers of full-flight mass production Strikes involved in the battle meant that some were inevitably able to engage the Orb planes, regardless of how hard Kira, La Flaga, and Cagalli tried to cover their allies. A vicious dogfight was already underway, and only time would be able to tell if the conventional fighters and their powerful allies would be able to drive back the enemy onslaught.

The Zero System and the Gundam's advanced sensors allowed Heero to take in all this activity in the blink of an eye; his combat awareness was unmatched. Sighting in on the full-flight Strikes coming up to meet him, he opened fire with the Twin Buster Rifle. A comet of yellow-gold energy tore into the enemy formation, and nine machines became fireballs. Gunning his engines, Heero dove right back into the enemy ranks and cut down three more machines in rapid succession. He side slipped to the left to dodge a charging enemy attempting to impale him with its yellow blade and slashed out with his own weapon, cutting the unit in two. He then opened up again with the Twin Buster Rifle, destroying five machines in front of him. Taking advantage of the gap in the enemy ranks he had created, the Perfect Soldier charged headlong towards his true objective; the enemy fleet.

The enemy warships were spread out over a vast area, and Heero had no doubt it was to avoid having them all taken out at once by a full-power shot with the Twin Buster Rifle. He had anticipated that deployment, and was fine with it; he didn't intend to use the maximum charge of Wing Zero's main weapon anyway. Rather, he would use it at a lower power level and take down one ship at a time in order to avoid expending too much energy and outpacing the Gundam's fusion reactor's ability to recharge the Twin Buster Rifle.

Let's get started, he thought as he hacked two more full-flight Strikes to pieces, the more damage I do to the fleet, the more mobile suits they'll send back to fight me. That'll make things easier on the others… and I intend to do a lot of damage. He went evasive as the warships below began putting up an anti-air curtain. Shells and missiles filled the sky, but the Zero System allowed Heero to weave his way through the enormous volume of fire coming up at him, as well as dodge shots thrown his way by enemy mobile suits. Leveling the Twin Buster Rifle, Heero singled out a destroyer as his first target and opened up at twenty-five percent power.

Even at that low setting the Alliance vessel was completely obliterated by the shot, consumed in a massive fireball. Diving towards the waves, Heero proceeded to weave his way between the assembled warships; at such a low altitude they would have to restrict their fire in order to avoid hitting their allies, and the enemy mobile suits would have to be more careful as well. Heero wouldn't stay down low the whole time, of course; that would allow the enemy to pin him between the ocean and their air units. Rather, he would alternate between high and low altitude attacks.

The Gundam pilot charged at a missile cruiser. Flying along its starboard side, Heero lashed out with his beam saber, tearing a large gash into the Alliance warship. Multiple detonations occurred inside the ship as the emerald blade tore into ammunition stores and the engine block, and the vessel quickly began taking on water. As he cleared the ship and regained altitude Heero saw the badly damaged warship was already listing sharply to starboard; within minutes it would slip beneath the waves.

He raised his beam saber to block an attack from a mass production Strike. Redirecting the blow so the mobile suit would pass to his right, he whirled around and impaled the enemy through the back. Side slipping to the left to dodge a volley of missiles and anti-air shells, he opened up with Wing Zero's shoulder gatlings. His barrage took two mobile suits in their right flanks, uncovered by their shields, and destroyed them. He then increased his altitude and put his beam saber away before splitting the Twin Buster Rifle into two smaller guns.

Selecting targets, Heero quickly opened fire. Two golden-yellow beams ripped forth, one hitting a destroyer and the other an escort carrier. Both vessels were consumed by fireballs as the Perfect Soldier rejoined the two guns into the larger main rifle and reignited his beam saber just in time to fend off another round of attacks from the enemy mobile suits.

Scanning the IFF beacons of the assembled warships, Heero quickly found the one he was looking for; the Spengler-class carrier Clinton, flagship of the armada. It was towards the rear of the fleet, and a veritable swarm of mobile suits and fighters were between it and him.

That's fine, he thought as he weaved through anti-air fire and sighted in on a fuel tanker, as long as I know where it is, I can cut through its defenses at anytime. I need to focus on mauling the fleet for right now and drawing attention to myself… which shouldn't be too difficult. He opened fire, and the tanker became an inferno as it was consumed by a massive explosion. Vickers, your time will come… you won't be leaving this battlefield alive!

His heart and mind were becoming increasingly torn as he continued his attack on the fleet, his internal struggle between the desire for vengeance and the need to maintain control becoming more difficult now that he was engaged with the enemy. The soldier in him was determined to keep the situation within tactical and strategic parameters; focusing on the fight, on dealing as much damage to the enemy fleet as possible, forcing a withdrawal. However, the wrath that had been held at bay since Alaska, biding its time and gathering strength, had finally tasted blood, and it wanted more. Like a shark about to join a feeding frenzy, it wanted to cut loose, to abandon all restraint and tear apart everything in sight. The desire was growing stronger by the minute, and it was already influencing his actions… and the Zero System.

No, he thought as he fired on another destroyer, annihilating the vessel, I have to maintain control. I can't afford to be ruled by the Zero System.

But part of his mind wanted the Zero System to take over, to turn him into an instrument of its will and allow it to take the wrath he had held at bay since Alaska and fully unleash it against the Alliance forces. It was an incredibly dangerous mindset, one that Heero had never found himself confronted with before, one that he was struggling to adapt to, to bring under control… and loosing.

He continued to rain down destruction on the Alliance fleet, obliterating another escort carrier with the Twin Buster Rifle before taking down two more mobile suits with his beam saber, all the while evading anti-air fire coming from the ships below and energy beams and missiles from airborne machines. As he did so, the fire burning in his heart was growing, the beast eager to wreak havoc on the armada as vengeance for the disgusting betrayal at Alaska of the woman he loved. A small part of his mind kept insisting that it wasn't right to let his wrath guide his actions, to let it rule him and give the Zero System a chance to completely take over, and that Murrue would not want him to do that… but it was drowned out by the howling of the beast, by the sight of the flaming remnants of warships below, and the desire to inflict far greater carnage in the name of punishing the Alliance for their barbarism and treachery at Alaska.

"None of you," he snarled as he opened up on another destroyer, ripping the ship in two with Wing Zero's fearsome rifle, "will leave here alive."

(End "The Wings of a Boy Who Killed Adolescence")

….

"Damn it, Orga," snarled Clotho, "when are you going to get off my back?"

Most people would be speaking metaphorically, but in this case it was actually quite literal. Orga's mobile suit, the Calamity, was incapable of independent atmospheric flight, unlike the other two prototype mobile suits used by the Biological CPUs. To compensate for this, it was being carried into the battle by Clotho's Raider, which was transformed into its mobile armor configuration. In that second mode the Raider looked like a large black and red bird of prey with steel-gray talons, and the blue, black, and orange Calamity was carried on its back, the former acting as a flight platform for the latter.

Clotho looked to his left, glaring at Shani's mobile suit, the Forbidden. The green and gray machine had full-independent flight capabilities, and unlike the Raider it did not have the capacity to carry another unit, meaning Shani was spared the indignation of having to bear Orga into battle. Clotho's pride chafed considerably in his role. He was a super soldier, damn it, not a courier!

"Shut up, Clotho," growled Orga, "It's just until we get to the shoreline. Then I'll gladly take my Calamity off your machine. Riding atop your pathetic unit is demeaning as is."

"What was that?" he shot back, "You want me to dump you into the sea, douchbag?"

"God, could you two shut up?" quipped Shani, "Can't I fly into a fight without you two filling the radio waves with your damn chatter?"

"Fuck you, Shani!" both Clotho and Orga snapped simultaneously.

The three of them had launched from the Powell almost immediately, but unlike the mass-production full-flight Strike squadrons they had not been ordered to engage the Orb fleet and its air units. Rather, the three of them were skirting the left flank of the enemy battle group and making a beeline for the beachfront along the western half of the Kisiragi, which the Orb navy could not defend directly due to concentrating most of its might on protecting the Kaguya spaceport and the coastline that ran between it and the city.

We have to hurry, thought Clotho, the airdrop will begin any second, and the heavy armor transports are coming up behind us. We need to clear the landing zone! Clotho didn't care one bit about the other Alliance soldiers… but he did care about carrying out Azrael's orders. After all, Azrael was the one who controlled their access to Gamma Glipheptin, and Clotho did not want to undergo an extended withdrawal phase again. He shivered, recalling the last time he'd suffered from the symptoms, after screwing up in a training exercise. Azrael had denied him immediate access to the suppressant drug as punishment, forcing Clotho to through half an hour of excruciating pain. Seizures, muscle cramps, intense migraines… it had felt like his body was tearing itself apart from within. The young man was determined not to go through that hell again. His teammates had been through the same punishment before at different times in their training, and all had come to fear the very thought of failing Azrael.

"Orga!" said Clotho, "I can see enemies on the beach. Start shooting, damn it!"

"Hey," snapped Orga, "I'm in charge, not you! Don't try to boss me around."

Nevertheless, the large machine on top of the Raider leveled its weapons as its pilot selected targets. Clotho was disdainful of the unit due to its limited mobility, especially in atmosphere, preferring the agile Raider. However, he was grudgingly willing to admit that the Calamity was the strongest of the three mobile suits used by the Biological CPUs in terms of raw firepower.

The unit was a walking arsenal. Mounted on its shoulders were two Schlag High-Energy Long-Range Beam Cannons, powerful artillery pieces that were capable of punching through heavy armor. Mounted in its torso was a Scylla Multi-Phase Energy Cannon, similar to the one used on the hijacked and now destroyed Aegis. On its left arm a shield was attached, and mounted on that were two Kaefer Zwei Ram Cannons, more conventional shell-based guns still capable of dishing out punishment to vehicles and mobile suits. In its right arm it held a large Todesblock Plasma-Sabot Bazooka, a weapon that fired physical shots that were energized in a small plasma field as they flew through the barrel, increasing their stopping power and armor penetration.

The Calamity brought its heavy artillery to bear and opened up, spewing out emerald beams, a crimson lance of energy, and physical shots. Several enemy units down on the beach, including machines similar to the Strike-Daggers and broader, heavier mobile suits of a type Clotho had never seen before, were hit by the barrage, and were either heavily damaged or completely destroyed. However, Orga's shots had by no means taken care of all the enemy opposition at the LZ, and a storm of missiles, shells, and emerald beams came up to meet them. The enemy mobile suits weren't alone; backing them up were conventional armor battalions. There were self-propelled guns, multi-rocket launchers, tanks, anti-air artillery and missile launchers…the whole range of regular armaments.

"Get off, Orga!" yelled Clotho as a missile hit the Raider, causing it to shudder though doing no real damage due to the unit's Phase Shift Armor, "I can't dodge with you on my back!"

"I was just about to do that anyway," Orga shot back, hitting the Calamity's thrusters and beginning a controlled descent towards the shallows, firing as he went.

"Finally," growled Clotho, grinning, "my turn!"

Jinking through the air dodging enemy fire, Clotho hit a button on his console, causing the Raider to shift into its mobile suit form. He preferred flying the machine as an MS, mainly because he could use most of its weaponry. Mounted on its right arm was a Dual 52mm hyper velocity shield cannon, while in the mobile suit's 'mouth' was a Zorn energy cannon. However, its most distinctive weapon was the large Mjolnir sphere-breaker, a heavy spiked ball attached to a long, thick cord, capable of even damaging Phase Shift Armor. It was Clotho's favorite bit of armament on the Raider, and there was nothing he liked more than slamming it into targets during live-fire exercises. Now he would get to use it in actual combat.

To his right, Shani's Forbidden was undergoing a transformation of its own. Its large backpack shifted up and over its head, bringing the mobile suits main weapons and special features to bear. Two large Eckzahn 88mm railguns bracketed the machine, while just above its head was a Hresvelgr plasma cannon. In its right hand it held a long, wicked metal scythe for close quarters combat, and on both forearms were mounted Armfeuer 115mm machine guns. The most striking feature of the unit though was the two shields that jutted out from the weapons platform. Called the Geschmeidig Panzer, integrated into these two shields was a unique system that utilized a combination of powerful magnetic fields and Mirage Colloid particles in order to form energy deflecting barriers. The system also had offensive potential, namely the ability to 'bend' the beam fired by the Hresvelgr plasma cannon. The whole setup made the Forbidden a very unique, unpredictable, and dangerous machine.

"Let's go!" yelled Clotho, charging head on at the enemies down on the beach. Opening fire with the Zorn energy cannon, he destroyed one of the black and white mobile suits with the yellow beam. Then he swung the Mjolnir sphere-breaker forward, crushing another unit. Bringing up the Raider's hyper velocity shield cannons he let loose a volley, annihilating a group of three tanks.

The Forbidden opened up with its railguns, decimating an artillery platoon. It then fired its Plasma cannon, curving the crimson beam with the Geschmeidig Panzer and cutting through two mobile suits like they were butter. Charging forward, the Forbidden sliced another unit in half with it scythe. Several other mobile suits returned fire with their beam rifles only to watch as their shots were harmlessly deflected by the Forbidden's barriers.

Then both the Raider and the Forbidden were forced to scatter as Orga opened up from behind them with the Calamity's weapons. "Damn it, Orga!" growled Clotho as energy beams flew past the Raider with scant meters to spare, "Watch where you're shooting!"

"You should stay out of my way," their leader replied smugly.

Though it had nearly resulted in friendly fire, the barrage was effective in pummeling Orb's defenses; several rocket batteries were annihilated, and three mobile suits were destroyed as well.

"Ha ha ha!" Clotho cackled as he and his teammates pressed their assault, "Just try and stop us, you weaklings!"

"Airdrop's starting," said Orga, "we need to step it up, you two!"

"Whatever," said Shani, destroying a group of tanks with the Forbidden's railguns before cutting down another mobile suit with his scythe.

"I know," grumbled Clotho as he pulverized another black and white mobile suit with his sphere-breaker before dodging fire from one of the heavier units, "shut up already, Orga!"

As he continued fighting his radar lit up behind him as over a hundred Strike-Daggers began falling from the transport planes overhead. The units were normal machines, lacking the Neo-Aile packs, but their thrusters would be enough to soften their landings. Meanwhile the heavy armor transports were closing in on the shoreline and would soon be in a position to deposit their own Strike-Daggers and Buster-Daggers in the shallows.

This is easy, thought Clotho smugly as he fired on a missile battery with his energy cannon, we'll have this beach taken in no time! Then we just sweep around overland, demolish that city, and take the mass driver, just like Lord Azrael said! Nothing can stop us now!

….

Gripping the arms of her chair, Murrue's eyes narrowed as she focused on the battle raging around the Archangel. "Hit that cruiser," she ordered, "it's pounding the Kutone!"

"Gottfrieds, target and fire at will!" said Lieutenant Tsukino.

The two large beam cannons mounted at the joints of the ship's 'legs' opened up, spitting emerald death at the enemy. Four energy beams tore through the cruiser, turning it into an inferno. The destruction of the ship gave the destroyer it had been attacking a chance to pull back, though it was moving at a slow pace. The Kutone had taken two missiles from the cruiser, knocking her rear gun turret and missile launchers out of action. The ship could still fight with its forward weapons, but it was no longer suited to slugging it out at the head of the pack and would have a better chance at surviving the engagement by moving further back into the Orb battle group.

Though it had taken casualties the Third Fleet was holding its own in the fierce battle, thanks in no small part to the Archangel. The powerful white warship had almost singlehandedly blunted the forward thrust of the Alliance warships, knocking out target after target with its Gottfried beam cannons and Valiant railguns. The destroyers and cruisers of the Orb Third fleet were acting as reinforcements, supplementing the Archangel's fire with their own missiles and guns, further adding to the chaos in the forward ranks of the Alliance naval squadrons.

In addition to the relative success they were thus far having on the surface, the Archangel and Third Fleet's air combat units had utterly stonewalled the Alliance's fighters and full-flight mass production Strikes. Kira and the Freedom were proving to be especially potent, with the young Coordinator unleashing incredibly precise barrages with his mobile suit's artillery, neutralizing several mobile suits at once without killing any of the pilots. La Flaga and Cagalli were adding their own firepower to the mix, and the Tallgeese Kai and Skygrasper had proven to be a deadly wing pair. The blue and white mobile suit practically danced through the enemy squadrons, cutting down machines with its violet energy blade and taking down others with precise shots from its beam rifle. Occasionally it would deploy the four green disk-like shield drones on its shoulders to soak up enemy fire before outmaneuvering the attackers and striking them down in rapid succession. Cagalli, for her part, had continued to utilize the hit-and-run tactics proven to be so deadly with the Skygrasper, particularly when combined with the Launcher pack. The fighter jet let loose a crimson lance of energy from the Agni slung beneath it, piercing a mobile suit and detonating it like a firecracker. It then opened up with the Launcher pack's heavy gatling gun, shredding two fighters, before breaking off and setting up for another run.

The Third Fleet's fighter squadrons, along with the planes reinforcing them from Nakajima airbase, were still mixing it up with the Alliance F-7D Spearheads. Neither side had truly gained the upper hand, though some of the full-flight Strikes had managed to work their way into the brawl and were inflicting more damage than their conventional counterparts. The Orb fighters hadn't suffered severe losses yet, but if La Flaga, Cagalli, or Kira weren't able to intervene soon then that was likely to change.

They're facing a large amount of enemy mobile suits, she thought, but still… it could be a lot worse. Murrue glanced at the right side of her personal monitor, which showed Wing Zero's assault on the center of the Alliance armada.

To say Heero was on a roll was an understatement. The Gundam pilot had already destroyed nineteen ships and was just claiming his twentieth, hacking a destroyer in half with his beam saber. The Perfect Soldier was gradually working his way through the fleet's forward lines and had yet to hit any of the Spengler-class carriers, but Murrue knew it would not be long before Heero started taking them down with the fearsome Twin Buster Rifle.

The young man who had captured her heart unlike any other before him was indomitable, tearing into the enemies surrounding him without an instant's hesitation, not an ounce of concern for his own life. Wing Zero fought like a demon, its speed unholy, and its attacks brutal and efficient. The Alliance fleet had been forced to hold back many of its airborne mobile suits in order to counter the Gundam, and they were not enough; Heero ripped through every machine that tried to attack him. His emerald beam saber parried attacks by the few mobile suits that managed to get within striking range of their own yellow blades before launching vicious counter-attacks, slicing enemy machines in half or impaling them through their cockpits. The Twin Buster Rifle blasted away, destroying several mobile suits with each shot and forcing the Alliance to withhold or recall more full-flight Strikes from their main assault just to keep Heero at bay.

Murrue was both grateful and worried, the latter feeling the more prominent one. Wing Zero's withering assault meant that the Archangel and the Orb Third Fleet had far less enemy airborne mobile suits to deal with than they otherwise would have, but by the same token this meant that Heero was fighting almost as many units as he had during the First Battle of Alaska. It was early in the fight, so Murrue wasn't worried about Heero wearing down yet; the young man's endurance was phenomenal. Still, Murrue could not deny her concerns, nor that they were growing as she watched Wing Zero fight, and they weren't just due to the sheer number of enemies Heero was engaging.

Murrue had seen Heero fight with Wing Zero often enough to get a feel for his flying style, even if that observation had been from a distance. The young man's movements were quick and efficient, his attacks always maximizing the amount of damage they could inflict on the enemy while at the same time paving the way for his next strike or putting him into position to evade return fire. This was still very much the case in this battle, but Murrue could not help but feel that Heero was being far more vicious than in previous fights. She had been given good reason for her concerns a few minutes ago, when Wing Zero had blown away a group of three full-flight Strikes with the Twin Buster Rifle… after they had returned to the fleet from engaging Kira, meaning that their combat capabilities had already been neutralized.

Intellectually, Murrue knew that those machines had probably been doomed anyway; at the rate Heero was going, it would not be long before he started tearing into the fleet carriers, meaning the ship that the three mobile suits would've touched down on could well have been on his target list. Also, destroying those machines meant that the Alliance couldn't repair them and send them back into the fray. It was logical to take them down… but Murrue knew it wasn't something Heero would normally do. In past engagements she had seen him allow damaged units that were retreating to do so without finishing them off.

Not here.

He's growing more brutal, she thought as she watched him destroy another pair of full-flight Strikes with the Twin Buster Rifle, these ones also having been disarmed from an earlier clash with Kira, he's not showing any restraint. I know it would be hard for Heero to do so, of course, considering that he's surrounded by the enemy, but still… something's wrong here, I know it!

Her mind flashed back to the earlier briefing, to the dark intensity that seemed to surround the Perfect Soldier as the meeting went on, particularly when the commander of the Alliance forces had been revealed to be a member of the Atlantic Federation High Command. When he heard Vice-Admiral Vickers' name, she thought, there was something in his eyes, something lurking behind that calm strength that I normally see in them. Heero almost seemed… excited. That's not like him; I know he doesn't look forward to a fight! It's true that the battlefield gives Heero a sense of purpose, but that's because war is all he's known in life. He doesn't enjoy combat; quite the opposite. I know that the lives he's taken weigh heavily on his shoulders, even if he's accepted the fact that he must kill his enemies in order to survive. The way he was acting in the briefing, the way he's fighting now… this isn't right. This isn't the Heero I know!

Something was happening to the young man she had fallen in love with, but before she had a chance to figure out exactly what that was she was snapped out of her thoughts by the radio officer. "Captain!" he said, "The Orb ground forces are requesting our aid. They're under heavy attack and taking casualties!"

"We can't move to reinforce them," said Lieutenant Tsukino, "If the Archangel leaves the Third Fleet the Alliance will redouble its assault on it!"

Checking the tactical display on the left side of her personal monitor, Murrue saw that a large bulge had appeared in the lines of the Orb ground forces. The Alliance had begun attacking the beach on the western side of Kisiragi, just as Murrue had feared they would. The Strikes that had been airdropped in the shallows were working their way up the beach, while the armored transports were depositing their own mobile suits behind them. At the head of the Alliance attack were three contacts that registered as unknown signatures, and Murrue guessed that they were probably prototypes. I'm sure the Atlantic Federation's research teams redoubled their efforts after the theft of the four machines at Heliopolis, she thought, whatever units are leading the attack on the Orb ground forces now are most likely the fruits of their labor. Combined with the mass-production Strikes and Busters moving up behind them they could overwhelm the ground forces and press on to the Kaguya spaceport. Damn it, we have to do something!

Still, Murrue was aware that Lieutenant Tsukino's words were correct; the Archangel could not leave the Third Fleet. Its weapons would be invaluable for bombarding the Alliance forces as they made their way inland, but said guns and missiles were also the key to staving off the Atlantic Federation fleet units attacking the Orb navy. Fortunately, Murrue had an idea. It was risky, but it was the only real option she had under the circumstances.

"Miriallia, contact Kira and tell him to go help the Orb ground forces!" she ordered, "The Freedom should be able to help our allies halt the enemy's advance!"

"Yes ma'am," said Miriallia, "but what about La Flaga and Cagalli?"

"They'll have to pick up the slack," she said grimly, "I just hope they're up to it."

….

"Got it," said La Flaga as he listened to Miriallia relay Captain Ramius's orders, "we'll get by somehow, don't worry about us!"

Miriallia nodded on his screen. "Good luck, Mr. La Flaga. Be careful."

She signed off, and her image was replaced by Kira's. "I'm heading to the mainland," he said, "I'll try to get things under control as fast as I can. Then I'll come back here and help you guys."

La Flaga gave the kid a confident smile. "Hey, I'm old, but not that old pal; I can dance with these guys for awhile. Especially with this beastie under my control."

"Alright," said Kira, "be careful." Then he signed off.

Jeez, he mused as he impaled a mobile suit with his violet beam saber, the kid worries too much. I mean, I know the Freedom's stronger than my machine, but still, it ain't like the Tallgeese Kai is just an average mobile suit. Besides, I do have a little backup.

He contacted Cagalli. "Hey, princess," he said, "looks like we're gonna be on our own for a little while. Think you can handle the workload?"

The girl smiled on his screen. "Who do you think you're talking to, flyboy? I'm good for as many rounds as these guys can take as long as you keep them from getting too close to me."

La Flaga grinned as he dodged a volley of emerald beams from several approaching mobile suits. "Glad to hear it, little lady. Alright, let's do this!"

He gunned the throttle and was practically thrown back in his seat as the Tallgeese Kai surged forward. Adrenaline surged through his veins as the Hawk of Endymion was forced to call upon all his skills to maintain control over his mobile suit as he zeroed in on his targets.

Damn, he thought as he sliced a mass production Strike in half, even after all the time I spent practicing on it, this thing's acceleration is brutal! And Heero said Wing Zero was developed from the original Tallgeese design… which means he's mastered maneuvering and fighting at these speeds! Hope I can measure up to that someday.

As it was, the Hawk of Endymion had gotten a fairly solid handle on controlling the Tallgeese Kai's incredibly powerful vernier engines. The hours of training sessions during the lead up to the invasion were definitely paying off now, more than making up for how exhausted he had been after each run. La Flaga recalled practically collapsing after his first major exercise with the new machine, his body feeling like it had just run a marathon while carrying 20kg weights on his back; it had been brutal. Even now it was still rough going, and the blond ace pilot knew that he would be sore as hell after the battle, but he was much more confident in his flying abilities with the Tallgeese Kai than he had been two weeks ago.

Climbing above his foes, the Hawk of Endymion then went into a steep dive, bringing his beam rifle to bear as he did so. He fired two quick shots. One was deflected by a mobile suit's shield, but the other hit its target dead center, punching through the cockpit and turning the machine into a fireball.

La Flaga swiftly turned his unit around, grimacing as the G-forces exerted by the maneuver pummeled his body. His fingers dancing across a keypad, he brought up the Tallgeese Kai's four Planet Defensors to soak up a barrage fired by machines he had passed during his attack. The emerald beams dissipated harmlessly against the barrier, but each impact did drain a bit of energy from the shield, and it could not be used for prolonged periods.

La Flaga's attackers were forced to scatter as a crimson beam lanced through their formation, courtesy of Cagalli. The Agni's shot destroyed one mobile suit while three others formed up to attack the blue and white fighter jet.

"Hey," said La Flaga, dropping his shields and rushing at them, "I'm the one you guys should be paying attention to!" He stabbed one mobile suit through its engine block, pulling away just in time to get clear of the explosion. La Flaga then opened fire with his beam rifle, nailing another unit in the torso and taking it down.

His actions gave Cagalli time to break off and set up for another run. As La Flaga blocked an attack from an Alliance machine's yellow beam saber the Orb princess launched another attack. It fired another shot with the Agni while at the same time launching a pair of missiles into the fray. The red energy beam destroyed a mobile suit that had been rushing in to attack the Tallgeese Kai from the right side, while the missiles forced two more machines to raise their shields to take the hits, interrupting their own attacks.

La Flaga took full advantage of the girl's fire, rushing at the two mobile suits that had blocked the missiles. He swung his beam saber beneath one's shield, slicing it in half, before flying behind the other and sending an emerald beam through its back, destroying it.

We're doing pretty well so far, he thought as he deployed the Planet Defensors to block incoming fire from four machines, but there are plenty of these guys left to go. He then glanced at his sensors and smirked as he saw the familiar golden-yellow flash of Wing Zero's Twin Buster Rifle in the distance, a beam lancing down from the sky and destroying an Alliance cruiser. Of course, with Heero playing one-man-army against their main fleet, they can't deploy enough mobile suits to overwhelm us over here. Good thing he's tying up so many of their resources, or things would be a lot more difficult for us.

Dropping his shields and going evasive, La Flaga struck back at his attackers. Using the Tallgeese Kai's extreme speed he flanked one of the Alliance mobile suits and impaled it through the side with his beam saber. He then climbed for altitude and laid down a barrage with his beam rifle, destroying one machine and forcing the other two to raise their shields to block his shots.

"Bring it on, guys," he said, grinning as he charged another machine while Cagalli launched another hit-and-run strike from a different angle, "you want Orb, you're gonna have to go through us first!"

….

Gunning the Freedom's engines, Kira rushed towards the western shoreline of Kisiragi, where the enemy had landed ground troops in force. Checking his sensors he saw that over a hundred mass-production Strikes were spread across the beach and advancing, firing as they went, with more units wading through the shallows as they made their way forward, both Strikes and mass-production Busters.

Their advance was far from unopposed; the Orb ground forces were throwing everything they had at them. M1 Astrays opened fire with their beam rifles, Tragoses cut loose with their formidable artillery, and the Army's conventional vehicles were launching shells, rockets, and missiles into the fray. In some parts the line was holding fast, but Kira was quick to spot the breach in the Orb formation on his sensors, and the fighting had already entered the western suburbs of Kisiragi.

The young Coordinator grimaced as he saw the smoke from scores of fires rising up from residential blocks. I know the city was evacuated, he thought, but still, all this destruction… a lot of people will be homeless by the time this is over.

Kira spotted a group of mass-production Strikes near his current position, engaged in a firefight with a trio of M1 Astrays. The three Orb machines were holding their own, and the wrecks of four mass-production Strikes surrounded their position, but they were now being attacked by eight machines: they needed help.

Kira's eyes narrowed as he engaged the Freedom's advanced targeting program, sighting in on the enemy. Bracketing six of the Strikes in his crosshairs, he cut loose with the advanced mobile suit's heavy artillery. Rail cannon rounds knocked off heads and the cameras within them, plasma beams pierced and ignited rifles, and lances of emerald energy destroyed mechanical hands holding beam sabers.

"Gotcha," said Kira. The young man then ignited one of the Freedom's beam sabers and rushed at the remaining two machines. Closing the distance in seconds, he cut the legs out from under one unit and literally disarmed the other. Just to be safe, he swiftly whirled around and plunged his beam saber into the head of the first unit; now it couldn't use its weapons even from its awkward position on the ground.

A trio of familiar voices came over the radio. "Thanks a lot, Kira!" said Asagi.

"We owe you one," said Juri.

"Great timing," chimed in Mayura.

Kira smiled. "I'm glad I was able to make it before you three were overrun."

"We'll be ok from here on out," said Asagi, "but the units in the southwest districts need help; they're under heavy attack, and the enemy has three new models leading the charge. They're the ones that opened up the breach in our lines, and they're destroying everything in their path!"

"Our squad leaders have called for reinforcements," said Juri, "but most of our frontline units are already committed at either the beach or are positioned at the Kaguya spaceport. Reserves are on the way, but even they won't be able to stop those three prototypes!"

"We know you can take 'em, Kira!" said Mayura, "So go find them and give them hell! We'll join up with another squad and help keep the rest of the enemy bottled up here; they won't get past Kisiragi!"

"Got it," said Kira, "be careful."

"You too," they all said.

Rushing towards the southwestern part of Kisiragi, Kira had no problem identifying the three new mobile suits the girls had mentioned. Each one of them was very distinctive… and ripping into the Orb forces with reckless abandon. At the head of the trio was a black and red machine, with a combination gun-shield on its right arm and swinging around a large spiked sphere, crushing a Tragos suit under the force of its impact. On its right flank was a green and grey machine with a strange shield/weapons mount slung over its head. It fired two shots with the pair of railguns mounted in the unique device, destroying two tanks, and then took a swing with a wicked looking metal scythe, cutting an M1 in half. Backing the two of them up was a large blue, black, and orange machine with an arsenal of heavy weapons rivaling even the Freedom's load out. It was tearing into an Orb armored division with its guns, obliterating two multi-rocket launchers with the large beam cannons on its shoulders, annihilating a tank with its chest-mounted Scylla, and destroying a self-propelled gun with the massive bazooka in its right hand. The two guns mounted on its shield were being put to use as well, taking down two of the attack helicopters that had arrived to reinforce the Orb ground forces.

No wonder the Alliance was able to break through Orb's first line so quickly, Kira thought, these things are more than a match for their forces, even with Morgenroete's new mobile suits. I've got to help them out!

Once again utilizing the Freedom's advanced targeting system, Kira locked onto his enemies with the advanced mobile suit's artillery. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he did so; he had to hit the Alliance units without endangering the Orb forces… or the enemy pilots. It would've been much easier if he was willing to shoot to kill, but now that he knew he had the ability to fight without taking life he was loath to restart that practice.

Letting out the breath he'd unconsciously been holding, Kira pulled the trigger. Lances of crimson plasma, emerald particle beams, and yellow rain cannon rounds flew at his foes. Kira's eyes widened in shock as the three machines scattered and evaded his attacks, albeit barely. They're fast, he thought, way faster than the other Alliance machines! His brow furrowed as he realized that taking these three units out of the fight would not be nearly as easy as he'd first thought.

He brought up the Freedom's shield as the large blue machine turned its guns on him and opened up. Fortunately the Freedom's shield was strong enough to withstand the attacks, but Kira knew that playing defensive would leave him open to attacks from the flanks by the other two machines. He gunned the Freedom's engines, climbing for altitude and going evasive, putting some distance between himself and the heavy artillery mobile suit, giving himself more room to dodge incoming fire. The blue unit stayed on the ground, but the other two machines quickly followed his ascent.

So, he thought as he squared off with his new foes, the heavy artillery unit lacks independent flight capabilities, but the other two machines can fly under their own power. Good to know; at least this way I'll only have to worry about the artillery unit acting as an anti-air battery, and if it does that it'll leave itself open for counterattack from the Orb ground forces. As long as I can keep these two occupied Orb should be able to reinforce its lines and contain the third unit… though I doubt it'll be without cost.

Kira knew that, even with him taking on the other two machines, the third would continue to inflict losses on the Orb ground forces. However, its focus on heavy weaponry meant it was vulnerable to close-in attacks, and the fact that it lacked full-flight capability meant that it was much less mobile than its compatriots. In short, it was rugged and powerful, but lacked agility. If the Orb military could coordinate a concentrated barrage against it, the walking artillery battery would be forced to pull back to more defensible ground, or regroup with other Alliance units. Either way, it would give Kira's allies some much needed breathing room.

The young pilot did not have time to worry about the Orb Army in any case; the two flight-capable prototypes were moving in to engage him. Brining his beam rifle to bear, Kira fired at the black and red unit, forcing it to dive to evade his shots. He then sighted in on the green and grey machine, opening up with the Freedom's plasma cannons.

Kira's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the air around the upper part of the unit ripple, and the two crimson beams were deflected away from the machine, impacting the ground below. "He has an energy shield…" he said, "Damn, not good!"

A target lock alarm rang, and Kira was forced to dodge to the left as the black and red machine reentered the fight, firing a yellow beam from a small cannon stored in its 'mouth'. He was then forced to dive as the green unit opened fire with the pair of railguns attached to the shield/weapons pack slung over its head.

As he evaded the yellow rounds he saw an emitter in the center of the shield/weapons mount glow crimson for a second before unleashing a plasma beam. Kira wondered for a second why the unit's pilot had even bothered taking the shot; the Freedom was already out of the line of fire. His question was answered a moment later when the beam suddenly curved downward, forcing him to bring up the Freedom's shield to take the shot.

"He can control the direction of the beam!" he cried out in shock as the Freedom shuddered. The shield had taken the beam head on, and while it had held together the power of the shot had been enough to stagger Kira's mobile suit.

He had no time to sit back and analyze this new development; the other unit was closing in fast. It took a swing with the large sphere-breaker in its left hand. Kira gunned the Freedom's engines, ascending and barely avoiding the flail as it passed beneath him. The young man decided he had to change his tactics; the way he was fighting now just wasn't cutting it.

As he dodged the sphere-breaker he charged the mobile suit wielding it, violet beam saber blazing. He attempted to cut off the arm that held the huge weapon, but the black and red machine managed to pull back and dodge the blow. Kira's attack wasn't completely in vain though; the very tip of his beam saber slashed across the mobile suit's 'mouth', damaging the energy cannon within. It hadn't been his intended target, but Kira was relieved to at least have removed one weapon from the unit's arsenal. Unfortunately, the damage to the Alliance machine's head didn't extend to its cameras or other sensors; it was still very much capable of combat.

Kira adjusted his angle and opened fire with the Freedom's rail cannons. The shots impacted the machine in the chest. While the mobile suit's Phase Shift Armor meant that the physical rounds would not be able to damage it, the impacts from the heavy weapons would momentarily stun the pilot, which was exactly what Kira needed.

He jinked to the right just in time to avoid another curved shot from the green and grey unit's plasma cannon. Kira then opened fire with his own plasma cannons and beam rifle. The shots were deflected once again by the enemy's energy shield, but forcing the machine to play defensive gave Kira the opening he needed to close in with his beam saber.

Moving in fast and hard, Kira swung his energy blade downward, attempting to sever one of the two shields attached to the strange pack mounted above the unit's head. Unfortunately the pilot managed to evade his attack, albeit barely. The Freedom's beam saber grazed the left side of the unit's chest, leaving a black furrow but doing little real damage.

Damn it, he thought as he dodged to the left to evade fire from the black and red unit, it's dual shield gun spitting yellow rounds at him, these guys have incredible reflexes, and their machines are very advanced! Individually I doubt they could match the Freedom, but working together like this… crap, it's taking me too long to fight them!

Kira and his two foes were locked in a stalemate, evading and blocking each other's fire while at the same time launching their own attempts, neither able to truly gain the upper hand. While the young Coordinator knew it was important to keep the two machines he was facing focused on him and away from the Orb Army, at the same time he knew his allies could really use the Freedom's support.

The young pilot was able to take comfort in one key fact; based on the sensor readings he was getting from the two machines, he knew that they were not nuclear-powered. They may have been advanced prototypes, but they were not giving off the unique signature of N-Jammer Cancellers or nuclear reactors. The two mobile suits may have been advanced prototypes, but they were also proof enough to Kira that the Earth Forces still had not made the same deadly breakthrough that ZAFT had. The two units, along with their ground-based comrade, were running off of high-capacity batteries, just like the Strike had, and the combined burdens of powering their Phase Shift Armor, weapons, and unique individual systems meant that they did not have the same infinite runtime as something like the Freedom or Wing Zero. If need be, Kira could outlast them, though he would much rather force them to withdraw, and quickly at that.

Hang on everyone, he thought as he continued his two-on-one fight, I'll take these guys down as fast as I can, and then I'll be able to help deal with the rest of the Alliance forces!

….

(Start "Use the Cloak of Darkness")

Impaling another full-flight Strike on his emerald blade, Heero quickly whirled around and brought the Twin Buster Rifle to bear, sighting in on what would be his first Spengler-class carrier kill of the day. The warship's IFF transponder labeled it the West Point; not the flagship of the Vice-Admiral whose blood had yet to be spilled this fight, but it didn't matter. The Perfect Soldier had already singled out the carrier Clinton and marked it on his radar; he knew where it was, and would keep track of it, working his way through the fleet, carving a path through the armada towards the flagship, leaving a trail of debris floating in his wake as he inexorably made his way towards the man he was determined to kill. It wasn't enough just to take him down though; Heero wanted the bastard to tremble in utter terror as Wing Zero tore its way through the fleet and towards his ship, want the son of a bitch to go mad with horror as he saw the mobile suit that would be his Reaper bear down upon him.

The cool, rational part of his mind warned him that such thoughts were unprofessional and dangerous, all the more so given the double-edged nature of the Zero System. It warned him that his conduct was extremely reckless, that he should worry more about efficiency and the overall battle than a personal vendetta… but the rest of him didn't care. The beast that was his wrath wanted to savor the vengeance for the betrayal at Alaska, to let it cook and simmer like a steak on the grill until just the right moment, when the time finally came to sink its fangs into the meat.

His eyes narrowing in a fearsome glare, Heero pulled the trigger, letting loose yet another torrent of golden-yellow hellfire. The large carrier below was hit dead-center, and was consumed by a massive explosion. It was his 27th vessel destroyed that day, and the battle was still young; plenty more would be added to the count before it was over.

The Gundam pilot wasted no time admiring his handiwork, instead taking Wing Zero into a dive right almost immediately after the beam had hit the ship. The maneuver came not a moment too soon, as a flurry of emerald beams flew through the airspace he had occupied just seconds ago. A veritable swarm of full-flight Strikes still flew over the fleet, each and every one of their pilots trying to get a shot at the Gundam that was thrashing their fleet. They had met with no success thus far, and Heero intended to keep it that way.

He gunned Wing Zero's engines, closing in on a trio of mobile suits far too quickly for their pilots to react. Heero tore into them with his beam saber, bifurcating one unit and slashing another across the torso. The third actually managed to raise its yellow energy blade in an attempt to block the blow coming towards it, but Heero simply altered the angle of his attack and sliced off the unit's sword arm before impaling the machine through its cockpit.

The Perfect Soldier then sighted in on another vessel with the Twin Buster Rifle, this time one of the massive troopships. It had already begun launching its compliment of much smaller hovercraft used to transport infantry to the beaches, but given its sheer size Heero knew that there was no way all the soldiers inside it had departed yet. He wouldn't waste time targeting the individual landing craft; the Orb forces could deal with them. However, the troopships themselves carried not just infantry but arsenals of the weapons they needed for combat operations and also aided the armada's freighters in the role of carrying supplies. They were valuable targets, critical to the Alliance's long-term operations in the Pacific theatre… and with their minimal defenses, were all but begging to be destroyed by Wing Zero.

Heero opened fire, and the troopship met the same fate as the carrier West Point; consumed by a massive fireball. Dodging to the right to avoid another barrage of energy beams from more full-flight Strikes, Heero positioned himself to fire on another warship, sighting in on a smaller escort carrier. He once again pulled the trigger, and the Twin Buster Rifle cut loose, its large yellow beam annihilating the ship.

"Target eliminated," he said, "moving on to the next one."

There was no point in saying that out loud; he wasn't in communication with his allies. Rather, it was an unconscious utterance, giving voice to the Zero System's input. The dangerous program was already beginning to gain the upper hand, taking Heero's wrath at the Alliance forces and using it as a gateway to extend its influence. It took a delicate balance of logic and emotion to truly handle the Zero System without slipping into a rampage or just becoming a cold heartless killing machine, and an incredible force of will to impose one's own conscious and morals onto it. It was a constant struggle the pilot was forced to wage with the Zero System in order to assert and maintain dominance, to drive the System and the Gundam towards the outcomes desired by the pilot. It required the pilot to have reached a state of perfect balance between their feelings and cold rationality… and that balance was now disrupted in Heero, tilting further and further towards the darker aspect of his protectiveness towards Murrue, his desire to destroy all who dared to threaten her. Since the First Battle of Alaska, the primary threat had been the Earth Alliance, and their treachery during that fight had given a very personal edge to that threat.

Now that he was engaging the Atlantic Federation in battle, surrounded by their forces and able to strike back, his focus had narrowed to just their destruction, forgoing all other motivations for fighting. His desire to protect Murrue, his determination to defend the new friends he had made in this world, his wish to prevent the overall conflict from escalating into all-out genocide… none of those mattered now, none of those factored into the possible outcomes that the Zero System was constantly generating. All that mattered was killing as many of the enemy as he could, and the Zero System was more than willing to oblige. Forcing an Alliance withdrawal had been his objective at the start of the engagement, but that strategic goal was becoming increasingly marginalized by the combination of Heero's wrath towards the Atlantic Federation and the Zero System's push for destroying all the enemies before him.

Destroy all targets. That was the Zero System's command, growing stronger and stronger in Heero's mind. Everyone that attacked him was a target. Every Alliance ship, plane, and mobile suit was a target.

The armada surrounding him fulfilled both categories perfectly.

Swiftly dodging to the left to evade a storm of anti-air rounds, missiles, and energy beams, Heero charged into a formation of full-flight Strikes. He slashed one in half from head to toe, stabbed another in the side, and then swiftly blocked a saber strike from a third before shredding it with his shoulder gatlings. He then opened fire with the Twin Buster Rifle, blasting a hole in the swarm of mobile suits flying around him, looking for an opening. Eight machines detonated like a string of firecrackers.

Taking advantage of the chaos he was sowing in the Atlantic Federation's air forces, he sighted in on another Spengler-class carrier, this one identified as the Yorktown. Targeting the ship dead-center, Heero pulled the trigger, and a wave of yellow-gold energy tore the carrier apart.

He then dove towards the sea, weaving through anti-air fire and energy beams from the mobile suits swirling around. He closed in on a supply freighter, using it as shield against the enemy air units, forcing them to take greater care with their shots. Heero then impaled the port side of the vessel at the waterline and dragged his emerald blade through the ship until he reached the stern. Water poured into the ship, and as Heero regained altitude he saw that the freighter was already beginning to list to port; it would sink within minutes.

Not bothering to watch, Heero charged a group of mass-production Strikes, cutting down two with his beam saber and destroying a third with his shoulder gatlings. He then whirled around to target an Alliance destroyer and opened fire. The Twin Buster Rifle turned the warship into a fireball.

Enemy destroyed, he thought, his mind echoing more and more with the Zero System's imperative, its cold and ruthless tactics, its heartless approach to battle, move on to the next target.

Destroy all enemies.

(End "Use the Cloak of Darkness")

….

"Enemy fighters have broken through the Orb squadrons!" cried the radar operator.

Had to happen eventually, thought Murrue, her eyes narrowing, I'm impressed they were able to keep the enemy at bay this long.

"Weapons," she ordered, "target and fire at will!"

"Helldart launchers," said Lieutenant Tsukino, "fire missiles! Engage all forward Igelstellungs!"

Murrue watched as a swarm of small red missiles took to the sky, followed by streams of yellow tracer rounds from the Archangel's CIWs. The four F-7D Spearheads at the head of the enemy formation were blown apart by the warheads, and the planes behind them were forced to scatter. Two flew right into streams of anti-air fire and were torn to metallic shreds, while three more caught surface-to-air missiles from Orb destroyers right up their fantails.

That takes care of their first incursion, thought Murrue grimly, but there will be more shortly; our air squadrons are beginning to falter.

The Orb fighters continued to struggle valiantly, and if the fight had been strictly one of planes then they would still be at parity, but the few Alliance mobile suits that had managed to avoid Cagalli and La Flaga and enter the fray had tipped the scales in the enemy's favor. The Orb naval and land based fighters working with the Third Fleet had been worn down to a little over half strength, though they had made the Atlantic Federation aircraft pay a high price for doing so, and had been reduced to 60% of their starting numbers even with a few full-flight Strikes in the mix; the Orb pilots were putting up a vicious fight.

For their part, La Flaga and Cagalli continued to hold their own against the enemy mobile suits fighting them. The Hawk of Endymion was pushing the Tallgeese Kai's extreme speed and maneuverability to its limits, flying circles around the full-flight Strikes, picking them off in ones and twos with his beam saber and rifle, blocking the shots he could not evade with the disk-like Planet Defensors. Cagalli complemented her partner's agility with the powerful Agni cannon slung beneath her Skygrasper, forcing the enemy units to scatter repeatedly with crimson energy blasts, taking down one machine at a time before breaking off and setting up for another attack run.

The amount of enemies they're up against is considerable, thought Murrue, but they've done an excellent job so far in containing them. Of course, no small part of that is due to the fact that the Alliance can't bring as many of its air combat-capable MS to bear on the center of Orb's defense; they've got a few other matters that demand their attention.

She once again glanced at the two displays on her personal monitor. The interactive strategic map on the left side showed both of the Orb Navy's pincers still fiercely engaged with the wings of the Alliance armada. It was a brutal air and sea battle, with several ships and dozens of mobile suits lost on both sides, and the casualties were climbing every second. The losses amongst the fighter squadrons on both sides were even higher, especially since the dogfight between the conventional combat aircraft was intermingled with the vicious mobile suit clash. Orb's new Aries mobile suits, though outnumbered by their Atlantic Federation counterparts, were still holding their own, and the MS battle raging in the skies was currently at a dead heat. The same was true for the fighter squadrons clashing with each other; both sides had reached a bloody stalemate. Neither side had yet to gain headway, though the battle showed signs of becoming a contest of attrition… which in the end would favor the Alliance, though they would buy victory at a heavy price. The Orb and Atlantic Federation surface ships were pounding away at each other with missiles and guns, while intermittent explosions beneath the waves served as a reminder of the fierce underwater battle still raging as well.

The ground engagement had stabilized somewhat, with the Orb forces managing to hang on to their current positions. Kira's earlier aid had put a stop to the initial enemy advance, and with the Freedom tying up two of the formidable new machines Orb had been able to bring up reinforcements and reorganize their defenses. M1s and Tragos suits clashed with mass-production Strikes and Busters, and while the enemy, as in every other theatre of the fight, had numerical superiority, the Orb mobile suits had superior position, familiarity with the terrain, and combined arms support from both conventional ground units and several attack helicopter squadrons.

The M1 Astrays, with their beam rifles and sabers, clashed head on with the mass-production Strikes, engaging those that got in close with their energy blades while coordinating their ranged weaponry with the Army's artillery regiments to blast the enemy from afar. The new Tragos suits were pouring a considerable amount of fire into the Alliance forces as they tried to advance from their positions on the beach and in the western side of Kisiragi, their shoulder mounted beam cannons punching through the enemy's armor effortlessly. Tanks, rocket-launchers, and self-propelled guns lent whatever support they could to their more powerful cousins, while attack helicopters flitted in and out of the fight like gnats, firing rockets and missiles before pulling back to evade counter-fire.

The ground battle's going well for now, thought Murrue, but the Alliance is bringing more and more mobile suits ashore with every minute, and that third prototype is still fighting against the Orb Army. It may not have the other two machines working with it, but its firepower is still considerable, and it is dealing damage.

Indeed, the third machine, which had been described as a heavy artillery platform, was pounding Orb's conventional tanks and self-propelled guns. It wasn't as effective against the M1s due to an apparent lack of a beam saber for close-quarters combat, but with so many other Alliance mobile suits taking part in the attack there weren't enough available to use to mount a concentrated attack against it. What few M1s that were close enough to engage it could not get within beam saber range due to the sheer volume of fire the Alliance prototype was throwing out. The unit's bloody advance may have been halted when Kira had drawn off its two compatriots, but it was still in the fight and still dealing damage. If things kept going the way they were the Alliance would eventually be able to press further inland, though their casualties would be very heavy.

However, the most vital part of the battle, at least in her mind, was Wing Zero's solo assault on the center of the Alliance fleet. Murrue watched as Heero opened fire with the Twin Buster Rifle, destroying his third Spengler-class carrier and 33rd ship of the day. Immediately after the massive yellow-gold beam annihilated its target Wing Zero went evasive, dodging fire from the massive swarm of full-flight Strikes that were trying desperately to take him out. Scores of them had already fallen to the Gundam, and more were being recalled from the various theatres of the battle in an attempt to deal with the powerful mobile suit that was mauling the Alliance Fleet.

They weren't meeting with any success. The Perfect Soldier weaved through their fire and hit back, cutting down three full-flight Strikes with Wing Zero's beam saber before opening fire with the Twin Buster Rifle, cutting a swath through the enemy horde. Eight units were destroyed, and the rest of the attackers once again scattered, trying desperately to regroup yet again and mount an organized attack… giving Heero an opportunity to line up another shot, this time on one of the armada's massive troop transports. The Twin Buster Rifle cut loose yet again, and the vessel became a fireball.

Despite the success Heero was having in his attack on the armada and forcing them to hold back resources, Murrue's concerns for the young man were only growing stronger as the battle went on. By now, she thought, he should've at least sent us some targeting data for our missiles and long range guns. He's done that in the last two fights; used the Zero System to anticipate the enemy's moves and give us precise targeting solutions so we can support him. We swore to protect and support each other, and I know that's something Heero took to heart. So why… why hasn't he contacted me since the battle began?

That was only a small part of her fears. Far more important and worrying to Murrue was the increased level of brutality Heero had shown in the fight, especially when it came to destroying mobile suits that were already disabled and attempting to withdraw. It wasn't like him at all. She knew Heero's fighting style was centered on efficiency, dealing as much damage to the enemy forces as possible, relentlessly attacking and giving them no opportunity to regroup and counter, but there were limits to how far he would go. If an enemy was no longer a threat and withdrawing, Heero would let them go. The fact that he wasn't doing so now was, to Murrue, a huge indicator that something wasn't right with the young man.

Murrue watched him open fire on a group of mobile suits, destroying three with the Twin Buster Rifle. Two more machines caught the edge of the golden-yellow beam, and their left arms, which held their rifles and shields, were disintegrated by the blast. They began to pull back, but Heero never gave them the chance to withdraw, destroying them both with Wing Zero's shoulder gatlings.

Heero, she thought, what's happening to you? Why are you fighting like this? You're not yourself right now; something's wrong, I know it!

She was about to contact him over the radio when the radar officer called out. "More fighters inbound!"

Shit, she thought, they're getting through more often now. Orb's pilots are wearing down!

"Ready anti-air artillery!" Murrue ordered.

"Helldarts, Igelstellungs," said Lieutenant Tsukino, "acquire targets and open fire!"

Murrue watched as the flight of six F-7D Spearheads closed in on the ship. The Captain expected to see the Archangel's anti-air weapons open fire, but was surprised to see the six planes get shot down before the white warship could fire, annihilated by a large scattershot blast.

"Where did that come from?" she cried out.

"Tracking," said the radar operator, "from the shallows… it's the Buster!"

….

Dearka Elsman smiled, admiring his handiwork. "Looks like we picked a good time to crash this party, eh Buster?"

Gunning his engines, the tan-skinned, blond haired Coordinator took the Buster into a high jump and made his way towards the Archangel. Utilizing the same thruster technique the Strike had during the battle in the Marshall Islands, he let the mobile suit fall until it came close to the water before hitting his engines again to regain altitude. It was a very awkward way to fly, and the young man was hoping he'd be allowed to land on the Archangel and use it as a firing platform.

Here's hoping that shot bought me some good will, he thought as he adjusted his radio frequency to an open channel to contact the ship.

It had taken him quite some time to regain the Buster. He'd found the Morgenroete testing facility without difficulty, but he hadn't been able to figure out how to get inside. He struggled to come up with a plan, but couldn't think of one, and began to fear that he wouldn't be able to reclaim his machine and help out in the battle. Then, much to his surprise, a large truck had moved towards the exit, carrying the Buster on the flatbed trailer behind it. Moving closer to listen to the gate guards, he'd discovered that they were transferring it to an Army base, and that the OS had been adapted so that a Natural could pilot it. Dearka had hidden behind a nearby bush, and as the truck left the facility and began to pick up speed he'd dashed out from behind his cover, using every bit of the increased speed and strength given to Coordinators to jump onto the back of the truck before it could leave him in the dust.

"Archangel," he said, "this is Dearka Elsman, calling from the Buster. I'm here to help!"

A female voice came over the radio, and he assumed it was the ship's Captain. "I thought you were evacuated! How did you get that machine?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, "Please, let me land on the Archangel's upper hull; I can use it as a platform and support the fleet from there!"

There was a moment's pause before the Captain replied. "Very well," she said, "take up position and then use the Buster's artillery to back up our mobile suit and Skygrasper, along with taking out any fighters that make it past the Orb squadrons. Understood?"

"Got it," said Dearka.

"I'm transferring you to our flight coordinator," she said.

There was some static in the bottom right corner of his screen before a familiar face appeared on it. "Dearka!" cried Miriallia, her eyes widening in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at her. "I wanted to help you protect your homeland, Miriallia. Figured I owed you that much after you saved my neck in the med bay."

That wasn't his real reason, of course, but his pride wouldn't let him admit that he'd come back solely to protect her.

The girl nodded, and Dearka thought he saw a knowing look in her eyes, like she did not entirely believe what he'd said but was willing to go along with it for now. "I see… thank you, Dearka. I'm glad you're here."

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he replied, smirking.

"Right," said Miriallia, stifling a laugh, "Ok, hotshot, take up position on the upper deck in front of the bridge. Concentrate on picking off the enemy's full-flight Strikes. Don't use your scatter-shot attack; we do have our own units in the fray, after all."

"I figured that," said Dearka, gunning his thrusters again for his final approach to the Archangel, "and if enemy fighters get past the Orb squadrons again?"

"I'll set you up a feed to our anti-air weapons telemetry," she said, "coordinate your fire with that if the enemy manages to break through again."

"Got it," said Dearka, "wish me luck."

Miriallia nodded and gave him a soft smile. "Godspeed, Dearka… and be careful."

"Thanks," he replied, "Buster out."

He touched down on the Archangel's upper deck just as she'd instructed and reconfigured the Buster's Hyper Impulse Cannon to its concentrated blast mode so he could fire more precise shots. Dearka focused on the air battle raging ahead of the Archangel and its allied warships, and saw a familiar blue and white fighter jet engaged with the enemy mobile suits, launching hit-and-run attacks with the large beam cannon slung beneath its fuselage. Fighting alongside it was a strange new blue and white mobile suit, displaying an incredible degree of speed and maneuverability, picking off enemy units with its beam rifle and violet saber. Any enemy shots that it could nod dodge were blocked by an energy shield generated by four green disk-like devices.

Nice machine, he thought, impressed at its performance, must be a new Orb model.

Dearka's eyes narrowed in concentration as he sighted in on an enemy machine. He felt a strange mix of pressure, anxiety, and relief within him. On one hand, he was now acting as part of the Archangel's defenses. Not only had he put the responsibility for Miriallia's well being on his shoulders, but his actions could also be construed as treason by ZAFT. However, the young man also felt a sense of comfort and certainty at the thought that he was helping with the Archangel's defense; after so many encounters with the ship, he knew that the crew was competent, especially the gunners, and he would be able to effectively coordinate his fire with them. Also, having an active role in protecting Miriallia gave him a sense of control, which worked well to offset the pressure he had put on himself by taking responsibility for her safety.

He smiled as he opened fire, his shot nailing an Alliance mobile suit that had been attempting to attack the blue and white fighter jet. I've still got my skills, he thought, I was afraid all that time down in the brig would've dulled them a bit, but it looks like they're still sharp. Alright, time to rock and roll!

….

(Start "Legend of Zero – XXXG-00W0")

Destroy all enemies.

That was the only thought in Heero's mind as he opened fire with the Twin Buster Rifle, blowing a fleet tanker to flaming bits. Not even pausing to watch the fireworks, the Perfect Soldier quickly sighted in on another target and fired again, annihilating a troopship. He was in the heart of the Alliance armada now, striking at their most vulnerable vessels. The fleet was in a state of panic, with ships scattering in every direction in a futile attempt to get clear of the Gundam that was decimating their ranks. More and more full-flight Strikes joined the units that were swirling overhead, trying desperately to take Wing Zero down, only to become the latest victims of the wrath of the Perfect Soldier.

Weaving through a storm of enemy return fire, Heero charged headlong into a formation of mobile suits, cutting down three machines in mere seconds. He then brought up the Twin Buster Rifle and opened fire, turning six more units into fireballs and damaging two more that caught the edge of the blast, disintegrating the arms that held their shields. The Perfect Soldier instantly turned to the two vulnerable mobile suits and shredded them with gatling fire.

Any sense of restraint was gone, crushed under the combined forces of the cold, ruthless Zero System and the ravenous beast that was Heero's wrath, the desire for vengeance that had taken hold of his heart. There were no other thoughts in his mind beyond the complete annihilation of the Atlantic Federation fleet, and the Gundam pilot was doing all in his considerable power to make that a reality… at the cost of allowing the Zero System to take over, to force him down the path to the outcomes that it desired rather than guiding it with his own will and morals.

Dodging a swarm of missiles and anti-air shells, Heero sighted in on what would be his fourth Spengler-class carrier kill of the day, the Saratoga. Bracketing the target, the Perfect Soldier opened fire, obliterating the massive warship.

Diving towards the water almost immediately after taking the shot, Heero took Wing Zero alongside one of the fleet's freighters and rammed his beam saber into it. He cut down past the waterline before withdrawing his blade and pulling back. The ship quickly began listing sharply to the portside, and would slip beneath the waves within minutes.

Climbing for altitude, Heero put the beam saber away before splitting the Twin Buster Rifle in half and opening fire with both guns. One beam annihilated a flight of six fighter jets, while the other destroyed four full-flight Strikes. He then reformed Wing Zero's main gun and reignited his beam saber just in time to block a sword strike from another unit. Hitting the thrusters, Heero used Wing Zero's raw power to push back the enemy before impaling it through the cockpit.

Glancing at his radar while dodging fire from all angles, the Gundam pilot saw that he was getting closer and closer to his true target; the flagship Clinton. He had carved a massive swath of destruction through the Alliance armada to get this far; soon he would reap the rewards for his bloody efforts.

Vice-Admiral Vickers, the beast in his heart roared as he targeted a smaller escort carrier, blowing it away with the Twin Buster Rifle, I'm coming for you! You won't leave this battlefield alive!

(End "Legend of Zero – XXXG-00W0")

….

The sweat was building up on Kira's brow and dripping down his face, but the young Coordinator had no time to wipe it away. His two-on-one clash with the Alliance's new machines was still ongoing, and it was starting to take its toll on him. Though the Freedom was more than a match for either of the mobile suits in a one-on-one fight and still capable of outperforming them in the current matchup, the enemy pilots had proven to be of a far higher caliber than the Atlantic Federation regulars, rivaling the ZAFT team that had so doggedly pursued the Archangel months ago.

The black and red machine and the green and grey one exhibited a sense of reluctant teamwork, attacking from different angles in an effort to breach Kira's defenses. Their timing wasn't well coordinated though, enabling him to avoid taking a lethal blow. It was fortunate for Kira that the Freedom was powered by a nuclear reactor, giving its Phase Shift Armor an infinite runtime; the enemy was starting to land hits. It was nothing major, only physical rounds from the green unit's railguns and the black and red one's dual shield cannon, but the impacts were still jarring and took effort to compensate for. Kira had also been forced to use the Freedom's shield to block several blows from the black and red unit's massive sphere-breaker, and the sheer force of the blows severely shook the Gundam, even if they hadn't been direct hits on the machine itself.

The young Coordinator was giving as good as he got, though. He had landed several hits on the black and red unit with the Freedom's railguns, not damaging the machine but knocking it off balance and giving him chances to attack the other mobile suit. The green unit's energy shields were still functioning, and had sent several of his shots flying wildly toward either the Orb mainland or the ocean, and Kira could only hope that none of them had hit anyone below. Kira had been able to land a couple close up strikes with his beam saber, though they had all been grazes. One had struck along the right side of the mobile suit's chest, giving it another black scar to match the one on its left. A few sparks flew from it every couple seconds, but Kira knew that he hadn't done any major damage. He'd had more success with a blow to the unit's left arm, not managing to sever it but damaging the machine gun mounted on it, rendering it inoperable.

Damn it, he thought as he narrowly evaded another curving plasma beam from the green unit, this is taking way too long! The Orb ground forces need help, and fast!

The Alliance invasion force was slowly but surely pressing forward, and fierce fighting was raging in the western side of Kisiragi and the surrounding countryside. The ground-based prototype heavy-artillery mobile suit was still inflicting punishment on the Orb forces, pounding away with its guns. The Alliance had begun landing infantry in force now that their mobile suits had gained a gradual momentum, and they had already begun clashing with Orb foot soldiers. Matters had been made worse by a large-scale paratrooper drop initiated mere minutes ago, with Alliance soldiers landing behind Orb lines, hitting several units from the rear and sowing confusion. The ground fighting was growing more vicious by the second now that infantry had become involved in the battle, and the body count was rising sharply. Orb was deploying reinforcements in an effort to contain the Alliance offensive, but Kira knew that by now they had to be running short of reserve units; if they hadn't committed everything they had yet, they would soon.

The carnage on the ground was staggering, the fighting more brutal than anything Kira had ever dared to imagine. Burned out wrecks of mobile suits and armored vehicles were everywhere. M1s and Strikes clashed with their rifles and beam sabers, Tragos suits and mass-production Busters pounded away at each other with their heavy artillery, Orb's conventional units added whatever fire they could to the fight, and both sides' infantry were now going at it with machine guns, rifles, small arms, grenades, and even knives. The young Coordinator was only able to catch brief glimpses of the fighting as he continued his deadly dance with the two Alliance prototypes, but what he saw made him want to hurl.

I thought our earlier battles were horrible, thought Kira, the fights we had in space, the North Africa campaign, our journey to Orb, the Marshall Islands… but this is just monstrous!

He had no time to ruminate on the grim events unfolding around him; the two machines he was currently fighting were pressing their assault. Kira barely managed to evade a swipe from the green unit's wicked scythe while at the same time taking another blow from the black and red machine's sphere-breaker on his shield. He returned fire with the Freedom's artillery, but the former simply blocked his shots with its energy shield while the latter was able to dodge his fire, albeit barely.

It was no good; the combined skills of the enemy pilots and the unique capabilities of their machines meant that Kira was unable to gain the upper hand. If anything, Kira was actually being forced onto the defensive, spending more time blocking and dodging their attacks than launching his own strikes. He needed help if he was going to turn the tide… but Kira doubted that aid would be forthcoming anytime soon.

La Flaga and Cagalli were still wrapped up with protecting the Archangel and the Orb Third Fleet from the enemy's full-flight mass production Strikes. Kira had been surprised to see that the Buster had joined the fray, firing shots from its perch on the white warship's upper deck. Its assistance was valuable, and while Kira did not know why it had been deployed now he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Still, even with the Heliopolis prototype in the mix there was no way La Flaga or Cagalli could break away to help Kira; they had their hands full dealing with the attacking enemy units.

The only other pilot on the battlefield with the skills needed to help Kira out of the mess he was in was also engaged. Heero was at the heart of the Alliance armada, mauling the enemy fleet with Wing Zero's overwhelming speed and power. The Twin Buster Rifle rained down destruction like a wrathful god, carving a swath of ruin and death through the Atlantic Federation fleet. Heero's one-man assault had also forced the Alliance to withhold many of their full-flight mass production Strikes in an effort to drive him off… one that was failing miserably. The enemy mobile suits seemed to do little more than add to the number of targets Heero had to choose from, and Kira could only wonder how many the Gundam pilot had taken down; he'd been too busy to keep track of his comrade's progress, but he had no doubt that Wing Zero's kill count was astronomical.

Diving to dodge railgun fire from the green unit, Kira felt the Freedom shudder violently as an attack from the black and red machine's sphere-breaker finally connected with the mobile suit's armor rather than its shield. He was alarmed to see the Freedom's power usage suddenly spike as the unit's nuclear reactor struggled to compensate for the heavy blow, allocating more energy to its Phase Shift Armor.

A few more hits like that and I'm in trouble, he thought grimly, cutting loose with the Freedom's guns in an effort to buy himself some breathing room, damn it, I have to find a way to turn things around, and quickly!

The only problem, of course, was that he had no idea how to do that.

….

Pulling out of his atmospheric reentry dive, Athrun had no problem spotting the battle taking place at Orb's northern shore. His reentry vector had put him mere kilometers northeast of the island nation, a distance he would have no problem closing.

His fingers flew over the Justice's controls, and the Fatum-00 backpack detached from the mobile suit and flew under the machine's feet. Athrun then landed the unit on the newly formed Subflight lifter and set a course towards the fighting in the distance. He scanned his sensors, making adjustments to them until he was able to bring up a strategic map of the battlefield.

Athrun's eyes widened as he saw just how massive the engagement was in scope. There were hundreds of warships, mobile suits, jet fighters, and ground vehicles spread across the battlefield, going at it with a tenacity he'd rarely seen before. Four Orb fleet groups had engaged the wings of the Alliance armada, preventing them from spreading out across a wider front, while a fifth defended the most vital beaches; the ones that allowed easy access to the Kaguya mass driver. The central Orb fleet was holding strong, and Athrun had no doubt it was due to the fact that the Archangel was at the front and center of its formation; he knew full well how formidable the legged ship' was in battle, and had no doubt that it was capable of wreaking havoc on conventional naval forces. However, the four fleet groups attacking the wings of the Alliance armada had clearly taken a beating, and while they were not letting up their offensive efforts it was clear that their enemy was beginning to gain the upper hand. Still, the Orb fleet pincers were fighting fiercely; they weren't down for the count yet.

Happening concurrently with the sea battle were massive air engagements, both on the wings of the Alliance armada and at the head of Orb's middle fleet. Fighters and mobile suits clashed with everything they had, and while the Orb forces were giving a good accounting for themselves Athrun could tell that they were slowly being worn down, especially the squadrons that were operating as part of the pincer attack on the Alliance armada. He was surprised to see new model mobile suits participating on both sides. The Alliance's units were obviously mass production versions of the Strike, but Orb was fielding new air combat mobile suits as well, of a type Athrun had never seen before. They were blue and gray machines armed with beam rifles, sabers, and missile launchers, and were both fast and maneuverable. There was another new machine fighting the Alliance forces attacking the Orb fleet in the center, a blue and white mobile suit that was displaying an incredible amount of speed and agility, picking off enemy units with its beam rifle and beam saber. Athrun noted that it was fighting alongside a familiar white and blue fighter jet with a large beam cannon slung beneath its fuselage; one of the Archangel's planes.

Looking for the white warship itself, Athrun found it at the front and center of Orb's middle fleet. His eyes widened as he saw a familiar mobile suit standing on its upper deck, taking shots at both Alliance mobile suits and fighters that managed to get past the Orb squadrons; the Buster.

So it wasn't destroyed after all, he thought, the Archangel's crew must've captured it after the battle in the Marshall Islands. I wonder… is Dearka alive too? Is he being held aboard the ship… or is he actually piloting that thing again? The latter thought was something he normally wouldn't have considered, but after all the surprising twists and turns his life had taken since he had returned to Aprilius One in the wake of Operation Spitbreak, even the most unlikely scenarios could no longer be discounted.

Orb wasn't just deploying MS in the air battle. Athrun could see new models taking part in the ground engagement as well. Orb was using two distinct models. One was a black and white machine that bore some similarity to the Strike, using beam sabers, beam rifles, and a large shield to take on the Alliance's mass production Strikes. Another was a large machine with broad shoulders, each of which had a large beam cannon mounted on them, along with heavy guns in its hands. It came in two variants; one type had normal, if quite thick, legs beneath its torso, while the other had some kind of hover platform. Both were obviously heavy artillery units, and they were operating in conjunction with Orb's conventional units in their defense of the island nation. Athrun also saw mass produced Busters on the Alliance's side. They were fewer in number than the mass production Strikes, and even though they were colored Athrun could tell just from the amount that had already been destroyed that they did not have Phase Shift Armor. Still, they did have the original Buster's weaponry, and they were proving to be tough foes in their own right, taking losses but still managing to advance with the rest of the Alliance forces.

The ground fighting wasn't just taking place on the beach or in the countryside; the western half of a coastal city had become a bloody battleground. Firefights between mobile suits were wreaking havoc on the urban area, leaving craters in some buildings and completely demolishing others. Smoke from scores of fires drifted skyward, and the fighting did not seem to be letting up. One machine in particular, a large blue mobile suit with an impressive array of artillery, was firing indiscriminately, demolishing entire city blocks by itself as it engaged the Orb forces.

Orb's in trouble, thought Athrun, they may be making the Alliance pay for every meter they advance, but that does not change the fact that the Alliance is advancing, if slowly. This battle is becoming one of attrition, and the Alliance has always favored that kind of fight.

One more theatre of battle caught his attention. Bringing up the center of the Alliance armada on his monitors, Athrun looked on in awe as a very familiar mobile suit carved a swath of destruction through its ranks; Wing Zero. The unit's pilot had thrown himself into the heaviest concentration of enemy forces, and was wreaking utter carnage on them. Athrun could only imagine how many ships and mobile suits Heero Yuy had already taken down; the trail of burning debris that had been blazed through the fleet implied that the former count was quite high, perhaps close to forty by now, and it was impossible to determine how many of the Alliance's new full-flight mass production Strikes had been taken down by the formidable pilot and mobile suit.

This guy's incredible, thought Athrun, watching as a tanker was blown to fiery bits by Wing Zero's deadly rifle, because of his attack, the Alliance is being forced to hold back a considerable amount of their warships and mobile suits, units that would otherwise be used to support the assault on Orb's coast and overwhelm the defenses. Lacus's words echoed in his mind. "You are a superb pilot, Athrun… but you're no Heero Yuy."

No kidding, he mused, shaking his head, there's no way I could match the kind of damage this guy's dishing out. It was all the more daunting to watch as he remembered one of his father's orders; take down Wing Zero. Even if the unit was surrounded by enemies and focused on fighting the Alliance fleet, Athrun knew that the moment he went in for an attack the pilot would become aware of him and move to counter, and that wasn't even factoring in the very real possibility that, even if he was attacking Wing Zero, the Atlantic Federation forces could fire on him while he was doing so; his mobile suit was flying under a ZAFT IFF, after all.

But Wing Zero was not his true concern. Scanning the battlefield, Athrun at last found what he was really looking for, the other main objective of his mission, and one of the sources of his inner conflict; the Freedom.

Kira.

His childhood friend was engaged in a fierce battle with two Alliance mobile suits, unique models that Athrun had never seen before and assumed to be advanced prototypes. One was a black and red machine, the design of which appeared to be based upon the principle of fast, hard strikes. It was quick, highly maneuverable, and the massive sphere-breaker it was swinging around looked like it could do a lot of damage, Phase Shift Armor or not. Two cannons were mounted within the shield on its right arm, and they looked like they could deal out serious punishment. There was a black slash across where its 'mouth' would be, and Athrun assumed that Kira had used one of the Freedom's beam sabers to take out a weapon that had been mounted there.

The other unit was a green and gray mobile suit, and while it was not quite as fast or agile as its ally, or the Freedom for that matter, it made up for it with a wicked-looking array of weapons and equipment. Athrun was shocked to see the air ripple around the upper portion of the unit as an energy shield materialized and deflected two beams fired from the Freedom's plasma cannons. His surprise only increased when the Alliance unit returned fire, and the energy shield rippled and shifted, bending the unit's plasma beam into an arc, one that Kira was barely able to evade. The unit then charged in with its metal scythe, but it was forced to pull back to dodge a slash from the Freedom's violet energy blade.

It was obvious that Kira was in trouble. Despite his own considerable skills and the Freedom's incredible combat capabilities, the unique weapons and equipment of the two units fighting it were, combined with the surprisingly sharp reflexes of the Alliance pilots, were enough to bridge the power gap. Individually, the Freedom was no doubt the superior mobile suit, and Athrun was sure that Kira was a better pilot than the two people he was fighting against, but the Alliance pair was working together, albeit with some apparent reluctance, to negate their foe's advantages. Whatever initiative or advantage Kira had held before was no more, and if anything the Alliance mobile suits were beginning to take control of the battle.

Had the situation been unfolding before him months, or even weeks ago, Athrun may well have used the opportunity to stab Kira in the back, to take revenge for the death of Nicole for real this time and earn his father's praise. Now, though… while Nicole's death still weighed on his mind, avenging it was no longer a priority for the young Zala. After listening to Lacus's words, contemplating both them and his late friend, Athrun was no longer driven by the desire for revenge. What had it gotten him the first time around? He remembered waking up aboard the Orb jet and his subsequent confrontation with Cagalli. He'd never felt so low in his life at the time. Killing Kira, or having apparently done so, had not brought him any sense of satisfaction or justice. No, it had only given him misery, pain and sorrow beyond any he had felt since the death of his mother in the Bloody Valentine Tragedy.

Cagalli, he thought, you were right about me; revenge isn't something I can truly fight for. When I tried to do so, back in the Marshall Islands… the only thing I got out of it was the anguish that came with having apparently killed my best friend. After that battle, after you called me out on that plane… I wanted nothing more than to die. Yes, Kira killed Nicole, my friend… but I don't hate him for it. I know Kira; he's kind, a bit of a crybaby, kind of lazy… and devoted to his friends. From the start, he told me he was fighting to protect his friends. I didn't really listen, since those friends were with the Earth Forces, and I thought he was just being used and manipulated… but that was what truly drove him. He didn't care about the Alliance or its ideals; he just wanted to protect his friends, and was willing to fight to do that. Kira didn't want to kill anyone, and I should've known that from the start; he was always so gentle… had things been different, I doubt he would have ever gone anywhere near a mobile suit.

The orders from his father still weighed upon his mind, to recapture or destroy the Freedom, and take down Wing Zero… but they were not as pressing as they had been when he had departed Aprilius One. They were not what was driving him, were not what his heart truly desired. What mattered more to him, here and now, was saving Kira… saving his friend. It wouldn't be that simple, of course; Athrun was sure that they would have to talk after the battle, and that it would be a tense confrontation. Still, it was one he was willing to face. As for Wing Zero… well, if he wasn't going to follow the first half of his orders, he saw no reason to bother with the second.

Especially since it was a suicide mission; even the formidable ZGMF-X09A Justice, a mobile suit on par with the Freedom, was no match for the overwhelming speed and power of Wing Zero, and Athrun held no illusions that his skills were equal to those of Heero's. The young man was sure that he'd be able to give both machine and pilot a good fight… but he had no confidence in his ability to defeat them, nor survive the confrontation.

His eyes narrowed as Athrun steeled himself for what he was about to do; defy his father. He would be taking one of ZAFT's most advanced mobile suits and saving the target he had been ordered to capture or destroy, and by the Supreme Chairman himself no less. His actions would be of treason, and ZAFT's penalty for that was death. It didn't matter if he was the scion of what was now essentially the PLANT's military dictator; he would not be exempt from the firing squad.

He could never go home again.

So be it, he thought, grim determination in his eyes as he gunned the Justice's engines, racing towards the battle, I already followed my father's orders to kill a friend once, even if I didn't succeed; I won't do it again!

He recalled Lacus's parting words to him that night in the concert hall: that he should look inside himself, and find out what he was truly fighting for. Athrun had struggled with that idea throughout the long flight from Aprilius One to Orb, and he found it slightly amusing that only now, as he was flying headlong into battle, did he finally know what that reason was. It was not for his father's ideals, or even his approval. From now on, he was going to fight to protect the people he cared about… starting with his childhood friend.

Athrun couldn't help but smile slightly at the sense of certainty he felt as he flew towards the battle. Here he was, charging headlong into a life or death struggle, yet he had never felt more sure of himself in his life than he did right now. There was no fear, no doubt, no apprehension over the possibility of death or the consequences of the actions he took today. For the first time in what felt like ages, Athrun knew he was doing the right thing. It energized him, invigorated him in a way he'd never dreamed possible.

His father would hate him for what he was about to do, but Athrun felt that another family member would be proud of him, along with a recently departed friend of his.

Mother, he thought, you always told me to follow my heart, to always do the right thing. Well, I'm going to do that now, and live by that ideal from here on out. Watch over me, Mother… I love you, and I miss you. Nicole… I'm about to save the life of the guy that killed you. It's strange, I know… but I don't think you'd hate me for it. It's too bad you never got to meet Kira off the battlefield; I'm sure you two would've been great friends. You guys are a lot alike… not the least because of just how kind you two are. You might fight against someone, but you'd never hate them; hate was the last emotion you knew how to feel. Rest in peace, my friend… and put in a good word for me, just in case things go south down here.

….

Barely managing to dodge another curved beam attack from the green mobile suit, Kira fired off a volley with the Freedom's weapons. He was trying to hit the enemy from below, where their energy shields did not seem to have effective coverage, but his foe managed to adjust his angle and deflect the shots. The young Coordinator had no time for a second attack; the red and black unit was closing in, swinging its massive sphere-breaker. Kira was barely able to bring the Freedom's shield up to block the incoming attack, and even then he felt the Gundam shudder under the impact.

The enemy's teamwork was getting better; their strikes were more coordinated, and they were giving Kira less openings to counterattack. More importantly, the two Alliance machines had kept him away from the main engagement, which Kira knew was gradually deteriorating in favor of the enemy in some theatres, particularly the ground battle. The Atlantic Federation's advance was slow and bloody, but the fact was undeniable that they were advancing all the same.

Kira was determined to end his two-on-one fight with the Alliance prototypes, but all his attempts to do so without killing his foes had ended in failure. The red and black unit's speed and maneuverability, the green machine's shield system, and the sharp reflexes of both pilots meant that his attempts to take them down non-lethally had resulted in little more than minor damage, blocked attacks, or dodged shots. Meanwhile, the Alliance pilots were fighting with no such compunctions over taking his life, and their combined assault was pushing Kira to the edge of his abilities.

The conversation he'd had weeks ago with Heero echoed in his mind, more specifically one of Heero's latter statements. "Kira, if you don't accept the fact that there are times when you may have to take your opponent's life, how will you react when confronted by such a situation?"

Was this one of those situations? Would Kira once again have to take the life of another human being?

No, he thought, determination and desperation driving him on, I won't go back down that path. I know a soldier is supposed to be able to take life if they have to, but I can't do that! I have the power to defeat my enemies without killing them, thanks to the Freedom. It may not be easy to do against all my foes, but that doesn't mean I should fight non-lethally only when it's convenient. I'm not going to kill anyone!

It was the ideal he was determined to live and fight by, and to Kira it was the right path… but that did not change the fact that it had handicapped him in this situation. It would've been so much simpler to impale the green machine through its cockpit with his beam saber; the unit's shield would not have been able to block such a strike. As for the black and red mobile suit, a concentrated bombardment with the Freedom's guns, focused on the unit's torso, would've taken it down. But fighting without killing meant eschewing those tactics… and he was paying for it.

Kira raised his shield again, blocking another curved beam fired from the green unit. The crimson energy lance dissipated against his shield, but the move left him open to a strike from the red and black unit, which was swinging its sphere-breaker at the Freedom's right side. Kira braced himself for the impact, knowing he wouldn't be able to dodge or block the attack.

It never connected. Kira was shocked to see a large burgundy mobile suit interpose itself between him and the enemy. It was riding a flight platform of the same color, and it was wielding a double-bladed beam saber, which it used to slice the incoming sphere-breaker in half. Both Alliance mobile suits blacked off for a moment to reassess the new arrival.

Analyzing the large mobile suit with the Freedom's scanners, Kira's surprise only increased when he saw that the model was actually in the unit's databanks; the ZGMF-X09A Justice. Kira noted several similarities in the overall frame of the machine to the Freedom, though it had less artillery and seemed to be more oriented towards close-quarters-combat. He also caught energy readings coming from it that indicated it had N-Jammer Cancellers and a nuclear reactor. It must've been built as part of the same program as the Freedom, he thought, which means it's a ZAFT machine. What's it doing here? Why's ZAFT getting involved in this battle?

Suddenly the lower right hand corner of Kira's monitor shifted, and Kira was completely taken aback by the person that appeared on the screen and started speaking.

"This is Athrun Zala. Kira, are you there? Kira, respond!"

"Athrun…" Kira said, struggling to react to this surprising development, "what… what are you doing here? Why is ZAFT involving itself in this battle?"

"I'm not operating under ZAFT's orders," his old friend replied firmly, "this intervention… is my decision alone!"

Out of the corner of his eye Kira saw the two Alliance prototypes coming towards them, having apparently decided to take on the new arrival along with the Freedom.

Athrun clearly noticed as well. "Look," he said, "we can talk later. Let's take down these guys first."

Kira nodded. "Right." He had mixed feelings about working with Athrun, especially considering what had happened between them in the Marshall Islands, but right now he could not afford to refuse a new ally.

"I'll take the green one," said Athrun, "you take the red and black one."

"Watch out," said Kira, "the green one has some kind of energy shield; ranged weapon's are no good against it."

"Good to know," he replied, "but the Justice has a few tricks up its sleeves… and so do I."

"Alright," said Kira, turning to meet the charging black and red mobile suit. Now that he had only one foe to deal with, things would be much simpler.

The unit still had half of its sphere-breaker, and wasted no time in using it, swinging the weapon wildly in an effort to keep Kira at bay. This time, though, without having to worry about an attack at his back, Kira was able to go completely on the offensive. Evading the attack he swiftly struck out with his beam saber. Unfortunately the enemy was still able to make the most of their sharp reflexes and pulled their unit back, only catching the very edge of Kira's violet energy blade across its left shoulder, leaving a black furrow rather than cutting off the whole left arm. Still, the momentum of the fight had clearly shifted, and Kira followed up his close-quarters attack with a full-on bombardment with the Freedom's guns. He was aiming to disable the enemy's arms and legs with his shots, but the black and red unit's mobility combined with the pilot's considerable skills negated his efforts. One of his crimson plasma beams did connect and take out the right hand, but that one held no weapon; the dual cannons were mounted in the arm shield, so they were still operational. It was progress, though, a sign of the shifting tide in Kira's battle.

Now that he had put his foe on the defensive, Kira was able to check on Athrun's progress. His old friend was now wielding a single beam saber in his unit's right hand, having apparently disassembled the double-bladed weapon and put one of the blades away. With its left hand it grabbed at a handle shaped device on its shoulder, one that Kira instantly recognized as a beam boomerang projector similar to the one used on the Strike's Sword Pack. The Justice let fly with the projectile, and Kira was shocked to see the violet beam boomerang actually cut through the green unit's energy barrier and graze the right shield protrusion, leaving a long black scorch mark across it.

The beam boomerang utilizes the same kind of energy as beam sabers, he thought, recalling how he had been able to inflict grazes on the green unit with the Freedom's own energy blades, that must be why it was able to pierce that machine's barrier. It didn't directly help Kira, since the Freedom had no such weapons, but it was still good to know, and there was always the chance that knowledge could come in handy somewhere down the road.

Athrun pressed his assault, closing in and lashing out with his beam saber. The violet blade pierced the green mobile suit's energy shield and sliced one of the unit's railguns in half. The Justice then moved in for a finishing blow but was forced to pull back as a flurry of emerald particle beams and a crimson lance of energy narrowly missed it.

Scanning the direction from where the sudden attack had come from, Kira saw the third Alliance prototype, its guns aimed up at their air battle. The machine was still on the ground, not even using its thrusters for temporary flight; it was instead acting as an anti-air battery.

At least it's not attacking the Orb ground forces now, thought Kira, still, this will complicate things on our end. Time to end this!

Evading another attack by the black and red mobile suit's damaged sphere-breaker, Kira closed the distance and took a swing at the unit's right arm. His enemy managed to pull back just enough to avoid losing the entire arm, but the tip of the Freedom's beam saber managed to slice one of the barrels of the dual shield cannons in half. His foe was running low on offensive options, and Kira wanted to capitalize on that to end the fight.

He took aim with all the Freedom's guns, but before he could fire he was forced to jink to the right in order to avoid a barrage from the third prototype firing from the ground. As he evaded enemy fire he saw his damaged foe shift into a bird-like mobile armor form and dive towards the surface. Kira wondered for a moment what was going on before he saw the blue mobile suit gun its thrusters and leap onto the black and red machine's back.

He's acting as a flight platform for the heavy artillery unit, Kira realized, damn, not good!

Kira's foes climbed to meet him, the blue, black and orange machine firing volleys from its mobile perch. Kira returned fire with the Freedom's artillery, and though most of his shots went wide one plasma beam managed to hit the large cannon mounted on the mobile suit's right shoulder, turning the front half of the barrel into a twisted, smoking wreck. One less gun to worry about, thought Kira, now let's hit the others!

….

"Shit!" snarled Orga as the Calamity shuddered, the heavy beam cannon mounted on its right shoulder taking a hit from one of the black, white, and blue unit's plasma guns.

I can't believe he managed to hit me, he thought, why the hell weren't Clotho and Shani able to take this guy out earlier? Damn it, they're useless without me! The arrival of a new mobile suit had made matters worse, and Orga could tell that it was from the same series as the other unit. Shani was fighting it for now, though he wasn't fairing too well against it. That didn't matter to Orga though; the only thing he cared about was repaying the first mobile suit for hitting his Calamity.

"You'll pay for that, you son of a bitch!" he yelled as he sighted in and prepared to open fire. Before he could pull the trigger though, a sharp lance of pain went through his head.

"Aaagh!" he cried out, clutching his head with his left hand… which was beginning to spasm. His right barely managed to keep its grip on the Calamity's controls, shaking violently as well.

Over the radio he heard his teammates cry out as well, and he knew that they were suffering the same pain he was; the beginnings of withdrawal from Gamma Glipheptin. They'd been on the battlefield for too long, and the serum that gave the three of them their super-human abilities was wearing off.

"Clotho," he growled, grimacing from the pain, "get us out of here!"

"I know," his teammate said, his normally cocky and abrasive attitude now replaced by an agonized whimper.

Orga felt the Raider begin to pull away, taking the Calamity with it back to the Alliance fleet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shani manage to fire off one last shot with the Forbidden's plasma cannon, getting the two powerful enemy mobile suits to back off a bit while the Biological CPUs made their getaway.

Damn it, thought Clotho, we weren't able to take out that machine or the new one… Azrael's going to be pissed. The young man shuddered, and it wasn't just a pain-induced tremor; he knew what Lord Azrael would do to him and the others as punishment for their failure. The suppressant drug would be withheld until they were well into the more painful stages of withdrawal, and it would be administered just before things turned lethal for Orga and the others. The fact that they would be spared from death did not do much to comfort the Calamity's pilot; advance stages of withdrawal from Gamma Glipheptin were a nightmare to go through, enough to make anyone beg for an end to the pain, even if it meant departure from the mortal world.

Doing his best to shove aside those thoughts for the moment, Orga managed to contact the Powell. "We're pulling back," he hissed, "the drugs are wearing off."

The calm and ice-cold face of Lord Azrael appeared on his screen. "Very well," he said, "when you land, do not exit your machines; you'll be shot if you attempt to do so."

Orga nodded. "Understood… my Lord." Going through the withdrawal in the confines of the Calamity's cockpit was not going to be a pleasant experience, but he had no choice in the matter.

"I'm disappointed in you, Orga," Lord Azrael continued, "I thought you and the others were the best pilots in the world… clearly I was mistaken. You will have to work hard to change that, do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord Azrael," he replied. He had no doubt that said 'hard work' would involve more brutal training… along with increased punishment for failures.

"Good," said Lord Azrael before signing off.

….

"We should finish them off," said Athrun as the three machines retreated, "They're vulnerable, Kira."

His childhood friend's face appeared on the Justice's monitor. Kira shook his head. "They're retreating, Athrun… they're not a threat to us anymore. We don't need to kill them… let them go."

Athrun sighed. "Fine. I guess we have more important things to worry about anyway." He was glancing at his radar as he did so, more specifically the portion that covered the ground engagement.

"Yeah," said Kira, "let's go help out the ground forces; we need to push the Alliance back!"

The two of them made haste towards the city of Kisiragi, where the enemy was pressing hard. Athrun glanced over at the Freedom on the way, once again having mixed feelings about the pilot.

Kira, he thought, I saw how you were trying to fight those two machines earlier, and how you kept fighting even after I joined you. You were going for disabling attacks, not lethal strikes… you've changed since our battle in the Marshall Islands. Then again… perhaps you would've fought this way earlier if you'd had the ability to; the Freedom's a much more sophisticated mobile suit than the Strike, and I'm sure it has a more precise targeting system than your old machine. If you'd been able to fight like that in our last battle… would Nicole still be alive?

There wasn't much point in ruminating on the past right now, and it was hardly Athrun's only concern regarding Kira's new fighting style. Had his childhood friend been fighting with the intent to kill, Athrun doubted that his two-on-one fight with the Alliance machines would've gone on nearly as long as it had. While Athrun didn't know the details regarding the Atlantic Federation's new models, he'd seen enough to know that, even with their unique armaments and capabilities, they were no match for the Freedom, especially with a pilot of Kira's caliber at the controls. Had Kira been willing to fight lethally, Athrun had no doubt that he would've beaten his two foes long before the Justice had joined the fray.

While Athrun himself by no means enjoyed killing, he had long ago acknowledged that, as a soldier, it was something he would have to do. He had steeled himself to the reality that he had to take life in battle, both to survive and to ensure that his enemies could not threaten the people he cared about. It wasn't pleasant, and it had left its mark on his psyche, making him more prone to brooding, along with adding a sense of edginess to his interactions with civilians. Lacus had been a prime example of that; there encounters prior to the theft of the Freedom had been, while still cordial, laced with a hint of awkwardness on his part, the sense that he did not belong in the presence of someone who had managed to keep her hands free of the blood of others. However, regardless of his personal feelings, Athrun had still been able to accept the unfortunate reality of being a pilot; the burden that came with ending the lives of others.

Focus, Athrun, he chided himself, how Kira fights right now doesn't matter so long as he can survive and defeat the enemy. You two will have plenty of time to talk things over later. For now, concentrate on the fight.

Hands flying over the keyboard, Athrun disconnected the Justice's feet from the Fatum-00 subflight lifter. The weapons and flight pack returned to its position on the Justice's back, its beam cannons rotating forward, over the mobile suit's shoulders. The Justice could still fly with the pack on its back, but this configuration would make it easier for Athrun to fight on the ground should the need arise, offering greater versatility.

Now that he no longer had to worry about any unit's with energy shields like his previous foe, Athrun drew the Justice's beam rifle in the machine's left hand while keeping the beam saber in its right. He dove towards a formation of two mass-production Strikes and one mass production Buster and attacked. Firing with his rifle, he destroyed one of the Strikes before closing in on the other and stabbing it with his beam saber. He then dodged to the right to avoid shots from the Buster's Gun Launcher and beam rifle before closing in and impaling the enemy through the cockpit.

Kira, for his part, was flying overhead, aiming the Freedom's guns at a group of mobile suits advancing further into the city. He let loose a rain of precision fire, knocking the heads off a Strike and a Buster and destroying the rifle of another Strike. The three units began to pull back, with the first two units stumbling awkwardly as their pilots were forced to rely on their less sophisticated auxiliary cameras and backup sensors.

Athrun smirked as several other units turned to fire at him and Kira, giving the Orb forces some much needed breathing room. Good, we've got their attention. Orb will be able to solidify its lines, maybe even start pushing the Alliance forces back towards the beach. We just need to keep this up.

In spite of everything that had happened between them over the course of the war, Athrun couldn't help but admit that it felt good to be fighting alongside his old friend again. There was still an unspoken tension between them, of course, but for now it was a background concern. They were working together to protect a neutral nation from a superpower that wanted to conquer and dominate them. Athrun felt invigorated, his confidence soaring, his heart and mind centered.

This was the path that he wanted to take, and it felt good.

….

Gripping the arms of his command chair, his face pale, Vice-Admiral Vickers could only watch in dismay as Wing Zero claimed an escort carrier, the Bunker Hill, with its devastating rifle. The Archangel's deadliest mobile suit was devastating the Alliance armada, taking down ship after ship with no sign of slowing down. Vickers had recalled nearly half of the Atlantic Federation force's full-flight Strike-Daggers in an effort to take down Heero Yuy, but the mass production mobile suits were doing little more than occasionally distracting the fearsome pilot, adding more foes to an already target-rich environment.

Damn it, he thought, we're finally pushing back the Orb squadrons that attacked our flanks, and we had their ground units on the ropes… and yet nothing we've done has deterred Wing Zero. Matters had only been made worse by the combination of the arrival of the new burgundy mobile suit that was supporting the black, white, and blue machine and the withdrawal of the Biological CPUs from the field. Now the new machine was helping its partner attack the Alliance ground forces, and together they were helping the Orb Army stabilize their front lines. If things kept going the way they were then the Orb forces would soon be in position to begin driving back the Atlantic Federation mobile suits and infantry. The confrontation with the rogue warship Archangel and its mobile suits, along with Orb's center fleet, was still at a dead heat; the renegades and their allies had completely stonewalled the forces Vickers had sent to break through their lines.

As grim as all that was, those were only secondary concerns to the Vice-Admiral. Vickers's chief worry and threat was Wing Zero. Since the start of the battle the powerful mobile suit had been carving a swath of destruction through the Alliance fleet and mobile suit squadrons, and said path was advancing slowly but steadily towards Vickers's flagship, the carrier Clinton. Wing Zero had become a mechanical Angel of Death, one that Vickers feared was out for his blood and not just that of the Atlantic Federation forces in general.

His fears were edging closer and closer to full-on panic. Cold sweat dripped down his face, his skin had become considerably paler in the past few seconds alone, his breathing was fast and shallow… the man felt as though he were on the verge of heart-attack, if he wasn't having one already.

I have to do something, he thought frantically, I have to take that monster down!

"Recall the 14th and 15th Aerial Strike Squadrons!" he ordered, "Tell them to get Wing Zero away from the fleet!"

"Sir, that will weaken the force we have attacking Orb's center," said the ship's Captain, "the enemy's mobile suits and fighters could gain the advantage on that front!"

"Follow my orders, damn it!" he yelled, "If we don't stop Wing Zero now then the center front doesn't matter!"

The Captain nodded. "Yes sir," he replied before relaying the instructions to the communications officer.

Glancing at the Clinton's main monitor, the Vice-Admiral's eyes widened as he saw Wing Zero once again open fire with its main weapon. For a moment he thought the mobile suit was aiming at his flagship, but the shot was angled to the left of the Clinton… where it annihilated the Spengler-class carrier Essex.

His fifth heavy carrier kill of the day, Vickers thought, how could our mighty Pacific Fleet be so impotent against one damn mobile suit? Damn it, we should've focused everything we had on Wing Zero from the start! We underestimated it yet again, and its ripping us apart!

A flurry of emerald beams forced Wing Zero to go on the evasive, and when combined with the fleet's anti-air fire Vickers dared to hope for a moment that the fearsome machine and pilot may yet be driven off. It was a short-lived hope; Heero Yuy wasted no time in charging headlong at a group of Strikes that were firing at him, hacking into them with his mobile suit's emerald blade. Two went down in flames in mere seconds, and a third was torn apart by a flurry of heavy rounds from Wing Zero's shoulder gatlings.

The indomitable, unstoppable mobile suit then turned towards the Clinton, bringing its rifle to bear. Vickers froze in his seat. He tried to bark out an order, but his throat had suddenly gone dry, and he could not find his voice. He tried to stand up, to make a futile run for the exit, but his legs felt like jelly. He tried to draw his eyes away from the twin barrels of Wing Zero's rifle as golden-yellow energy built up in them, as if in slow motion, but his head felt as if it was locked in place.

He was completely paralyzed by sheer abject terror, horror in the dawning realization that he was about to die, and that there was nothing he could do to change that. His mind could not accept that reality, but it could find no way to escape it… so it simply broke, shattered, utterly destroyed, and unable to function beyond the primal instincts of self-preservation. Even those were not capable of lifting the panic that had set in, nor did they present any outcome that ensured his survival.

Vice-Admiral Vickers, a man with a reputation for being utterly ruthless when commanding a battle, cold and unfeeling when it came to the lives of his men, felt as if the blood in his veins had turned into ice. He felt nothing but an arctic chill throughout his body as Wing Zero fired… and then he was consumed by fire.

….

Azrael sighed as he watched the Clinton's destruction from the bridge of the Powell. The armada's primary flagship had been positioned at its heart, and Azrael's own ship was to the rear of it; if Wing Zero kept up its rampage the Blue Cosmos leader knew that its path would eventually take it to his own carrier.

It was time to get the hell out of dodge. The destruction being wrought by Wing Zero, combined with the withdrawal of the Biological CPUs and the entry of the new mobile suit that was now working with the other nuclear powered machine to push back the Atlantic Federation ground units meant that the invasion force would not be able to complete its objectives today; they would have to pull back and regroup for another assault.

A pity, he thought, I had hoped that we could conquer the entire nation before the Eurasian Home Fleet arrived tonight… oh well. Once they've rendezvoused with us we'll prepare for our second attack; given the damage the Orb forces sustained today, they will not be able to hold out when we strike again with reinforcements. The resistance they put up today only delayed the inevitable; Orb will be mine.

"Captain," said Azrael, "issue the withdrawal signal; we're pulling back for today."

The man nodded. "Understood, my lord."

"Make it quick too," Azrael continued, "I have no desire to be immolated by Wing Zero."

"Yes, my lord," said the Captain before turning to relay the orders.

Azrael glared at the image on the Powell's main monitor of the mobile suit that had done so much damage to the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet, going after two Strikes with its beam saber. Over forty ships had been destroyed by the powerful machine, and Azrael had lost count of the number of full-flight Strike-Daggers it had taken down; his own ballpark estimate was around 120 units, and in all likelihood it was probably even higher.

Wing Zero did almost as much damage to us as the entire Orb fleet combined, he fumed, and that machine's power is beyond reckoning… I suppose any capture attempts now will have to be written off as infeasible; it must be destroyed. No matter, we can still go for the other machine, along with its new companion; sensor readings showed that that mobile suit was nuclear powered as well. Their performance in this fight was quite impressive, yet it is clear that they are not quite as dangerous as Wing Zero; capture should be quite possible provided we can find some way to isolate one of them.

Azrael gave a cold smile as the Powell began to turn around, with other ships following suit as they began to retreat north. "Enjoy your 'victory' for now, race traitors," he spat, "it will be short lived."

….

"Captain," said the sensor officer, "I have white flares being launched from the Alliance carriers; they're signaling a withdrawal!"

Murrue sighed in relief as she saw the Alliance fighter jet and mobile suit squadrons that had been trying to fight past the Orb air units and strike the Third Fleet begin to fall back towards their fleet. The cruisers and destroyers still standing began to withdraw as well, firing off parting shots in an effort to discourage pursuit. It was unnecessary; Murrue had no intention of continuing the battle if the enemy had decided to retreat.

I guess they got tired of the punishment Heero's been inflicting upon them, she thought, he was really mauling their main force; even officers as cold as Atlantic Federation admirals would have to pull back under such an assault. It's a good thing they've decided to back off for now. We need time to rest and regroup… we've taken more than our share of losses, after all.

The Orb Third Fleet had lost 20% of its vessels, and twice as many had taken moderate to severe damage. The Archangel had taken a few hits herself, but the massive white warship's armor was much tougher than that of conventional naval vessels, and its damage was minimal; nothing Chief Mechanic Murdoch and his crews couldn't fix given a few hours without being shot at. The fighter squadrons operating with the Third Fleet had taken more severe losses though; roughly half of the jets had been shot down, and most of the survivors were sporting varying degrees of damage. Cagalli and La Flaga were thankfully still in one piece, though Murrue knew that by now the two of them had to be getting tired. They'll be able to rest now, she thought, and I have no doubt that they need it. The Buster had taken no serious hits as well, and while Murrue still had some reservations about having a ZAFT pilot, and a former prisoner at that, defend the ship, she would not deny the fact his efforts had been a great help in defending both the Archangel and the Orb Third Fleet.

The overall picture for the rest of Orb's forces was considerably grimmer than that of the Third Fleet and the Archangel. While the Orb Navy's pincer attack had succeeded in keeping the Alliance fleet from spreading out and launching a broader assault, the battle groups that had taken part in the action had suffered severe losses. All in all, the First, Second, Fourth, and Fifth Fleets had taken over 50% casualties in warships alone, and their air squadrons had lost considerably more. The Alliance battle groups engaging them had suffered nearly proportional losses, but the much larger scale of their fleet meant that they could afford such casualties. The carrier aircraft and the land-based squadrons supporting Orb's ships had been reduced to a third of their former strength, though they had made the Alliance fighter squadrons pay dearly for inflicting such losses. As for the Aries mobile suit teams, they had successfully managed to tie up several squadrons of the Alliance's full-flight Strikes and had inflicted heavy losses, but the price that they had paid for doing so was a dear one; of the 178 air combat mobile suits Orb had started the battle with, only 53 remained in one piece.

The underwater battle had been vicious as well, and though the new Pisces submarine mobile suits had allowed the Orb forces to hold their own against the Alliance Aqua Darts, their numbers had been significantly reduced in the process: only 37 remained operational. The losses that they had inflicted upon the Alliance underwater combat units had been substantial, though; of the 384 Aqua Darts the Atlantic Federation had started the battle with, only 107 had managed to survive the engagement and were retreating back to their carriers.

Worst of all by far had been the ground battle. The initial Alliance assault on the beaches, with their three new model mobile suits leading the charge, had inflicted heavy losses on the Orb Army. Even after Kira had successfully drawn off two of the Atlantic Federation prototypes, the third had continued to lend its considerable firepower to the enemy's assault, and the battle just to contain it had been fierce and bloody. Much of the west side of Kisiragi had been damaged in the fighting, with entire city blocks decimated by the Alliance unit's heavy artillery. The damage had only increased as the Alliance forces advanced and more mobile suits and infantry hit the beaches. Right now both machines and foot soldiers were pulling back towards their landing craft, with the Orb forces opting to hold their positions and tend to their wounded rather than pursue.

Murrue was relieved to see that Kira was still in one piece, though she had concerns over the unit that had joined him during the fighting. The burgundy mobile suit had a similar frame design to the Freedom, and since Kira's machine had been stolen from ZAFT Murrue could only conclude that the new unit had the same origin. However, it had fought alongside Kira, probably even saved his life, and had been very helpful in aiding the Orb ground forces after the three Alliance prototypes had been dealt with. She had heard nothing yet from either Kira or the new unit itself, no explanation of its intentions or mission, but for the moment that didn't matter. It had joined their forces, at least for this battle, and had helped drive back the Alliance assault, providing much needed relief to a much reduced Orb Army.

Losses had been severe to say the least. The M1 Astray teams had been hit hard, especially in the opening drive by the three Alliance prototypes. Of the 120 units that the Orb Army had started the battle with, 70 had been destroyed. The 20 Tragos heavy artillery mobile suits had been completely wiped out, and Orb's conventional armored divisions had suffered appalling losses, and Murrue estimated that only 45% of their vehicles were fit for fighting. The Alliance mobile suits had paid dearly in return; the mass production Strikes had lost 185 units, and the mass production Busters had been reduced to 22 machines. Murrue couldn't begin to guess how many foot soldiers on both sides had been killed or wounded… and frankly, she didn't want to know: in clashes involving mobile suits, infantry units caught up in the mix could and frequently were wiped out entire platoons at a time.

Fighting from the bridge of a warship makes everything seem so… clean, Murrue thought grimly, you see other vessels, fighters, and mobile suits get destroyed, but you rarely see the true human cost, the dead and the wounded. Mechanized warfare can desensitize you if you're not careful; it can almost make you forget about the lives that are taken with every ship and machine that go down. The same is not true when it comes to a gunfight between infantry, or when foot soldiers are targeted by mechanized units; there's no way to hide the blood and carnage.

Murrue could at least take some solace and comfort in the fact that the battle was at last over, at least for now. The Atlantic Federation would of course regroup and prepare for another attack, but that would take several hours, perhaps a day. It would give Orb time to remove the wounded from the field and at least make some repairs to their ships, planes, mobile suits, and armored vehicles. More importantly, it would give everyone some much needed time to rest.

The battle was over… until a familiar flash of golden-yellow energy in the distance proclaimed otherwise.

Murrue's eyes widened in shock as Wing Zero opened fire with the fearsome Twin Buster Rifle, annihilating a supply freighter. The Gundam was still engaging the Alliance fleet, paying no heed to the very visible withdrawal flares. The Perfect Soldier then turned on a formation of full-flight Strikes and flew at them head on, hacking into them with his beam saber.

Heero, she thought, what are you doing? Stop this! The battle's over!

"What the hell's he doing?" yelled Lieutenant Tsukino, "The enemy's withdrawing; there's no reason to keep fighting!"

"Miriallia," said Murrue, "contact Heero, quickly!"

"I'm trying, Captain," the girl replied, "but all my hails are being ignored!"

Murrue frantically typed on the small keypad on the arm of her chair, trying desperately to get a hold of the Gundam pilot.

"Heero," she said, unable to keep her growing desperation out of her voice, "Heero, please respond! Talk to me, Heero! You don't have to fight any more; the enemy's retreating! Please, pull back. Heero!"

It was no good; Heero wasn't responding on any frequency. Why is he doing this, she thought, why isn't he responding to me? We swore we'd protect each other, fight together to survive… why has he cut himself off from me? And why's he still attacking the Alliance fleet? They're retreating, and Heero's let withdrawing forces go in our past battles! What's going on?

Then it dawned on her, a very grim and horrific realization, one that Murrue had hoped and prayed that she would never have to come to. It was terrifying to even think about, not because of the risk it might pose to her, but because of what it meant was happening to the heart and mind of the man she loved… but she knew what she was witnessing now, and looking back at Heero's behavior both before and throughout the battle, there was only one conclusion Murrue could come to.

The Zero System, the extremely advanced and sophisticated program that served to amplify Heero's already incredible abilities as a soldier and pilot, expanding his very consciousness and awareness to the point of precognition… had taken control of the Perfect Soldier.

Heero was on a rampage. The quiet, intelligent, and compassionate young man that Murrue loved had become the conduit for the cold, brutal tactical urges of the Zero System. His mind had shut out all other concerns except for his next targets, the next lives to be taken. The best pilot Murrue had ever seen, perhaps the best in all the Cosmic Era, was now the living embodiment of destruction, an instrument to the will of the deadliest mobile suit operating system ever designed and implemented.

It was horrific to even contemplate, and it struck a dear blow to Murrue's heart to know that the withdrawn yet kind young man with whom she had forged such a powerful bond had been taken over by such a ruthless system, and that his incredible talents as a pilot and soldier were now the tools of a heartless machine, wreaking havoc on everything around him.

Murrue could feel despair threatening to overwhelm her, but another, powerful emotion pushed it back; resolve. Resolve to save the young man she loved from the Zero System, to save his humanity, to keep him from becoming something she knew he did not want to be; a heartless killer.

She had the tools to do it, too; Murrue had not forgotten that evening in North Africa, when Heero had taken her inside Wing Zero and given her the override command and the frequency to implement it, to render the Gundam inoperable. However, there was a problem, and that was the fact that Heero was still in the midst of the Alliance armada. If Murrue used the override command now, Heero would be completely vulnerable, and she had no doubt the Atlantic Federation would seize the opportunity to capture him and Wing Zero. There was no way in hell she was going to let that happen.

But what do I do?, she though desperately as she watched Wing Zero blow a troopship to flaming bits, I have to save Heero, and that override code is the only way to do it!

Desperation quickly became inspiration as a plan formed in her mind. It was incredibly dangerous, but it was Murrue's only option… and there was only one pilot and mobile suit she knew of that had a chance at pulling it off.

"Miriallia, contact Kira!" she ordered, "Quickly!"

The young man's face appeared on the main monitor, his violet eyes wide shock and a hint of fear. "Captain!" he said, "What's going on? Why's Heero still attacking the Alliance fleet? We have to stop him!"

Murrue nodded grimly. "I know, Kira. Listen carefully; Heero is no longer in control of Wing Zero. The Zero System has taken over."

"What?" Kira replied, "I don't understand, Captain! I thought the Zero System was just the operating system! How can it take control of Heero?"

Murrue shook her head. "It's much more than just a simple operating system, Kira. The Zero System works by expanding the awareness and consciousness of the Gundam's pilot. It shows Heero all the possible outcomes in a given battle… in a sense, I suppose you could call it precognition."

"Wait," said Kira, "you mean it lets him see the future?"

"Not quite," said Murrue, "the Zero System may present outcomes, but the System itself is a cold and ruthless program; the outcomes it favors involve killing everything in the pilot's path. When Heero fights, he's in a constant battle of wills with the Zero System, imposing his own consciousness and morals onto it, directing it towards the possible outcome that he desires. It requires an incredible degree of discipline and strength of will to do this, otherwise the pilot will be overwhelmed by the information given to him by the Zero System; pure sensory overload. Heero must constantly maintain a balance between logic and emotion, between rationality and his personal feelings, in order to control Wing Zero. If he doesn't… the System takes over his mind, and drives him into a rampage!"

"And that's what's happening now?" asked Kira, "You mean the Zero System's now driving Heero's actions completely?"

Murrue nodded. "I'm certain of it, Kira. Heero wouldn't do something like this, I know it! You've fought alongside him through many battles now too; you must know that this isn't like him!"

Kira nodded. "Yeah, you're right Captain. It's true that Heero kills without hesitation… but not like this! I've seen him let the enemy go when they want to retreat, and the Alliance has already sent up flares signaling their intent to withdraw. Yet Heero's still attacking… this isn't him, he wouldn't do this!"

Murrue was relieved to see that Kira had managed to grasp the situation. She was also aware of the concern in the young man's eyes, and she realized that it was for Heero, his friend. He wanted to help stop him, to save Heero from himself, to keep him from becoming a mass-murderer. As do I, she thought, I'm not going to lose the man I love to a damn operating system. I won't let the Zero System destroy Heero's humanity! I'm glad Kira was so quickly able to understand what was happening, and he seems more than ready to help… this plan of mine might just have a shot!

"Kira," said Murrue, "Heero was aware that there was a chance that this could happen to him. Back in North Africa he gave me the override code for the Zero System and the Gundam, along with the frequency to use it on; I can shut Wing Zero down remotely."

Kira's eyes widened. "What? Why would Heero give you something like that?"

"Heero… said he trusted me with it," Murrue said hesitantly, "He said that… I was the only one he trusted with such knowledge."

She knew that the entire bridge crew was listening to her words, and doubtlessly drawing their own conclusions. Murrue didn't care. What they thought about her and Heero did not matter at the moment. All she cared about was helping the young man she had fallen in love with.

"Listen, Kira," she continued, "I can use that override command to stop Wing Zero, but not yet; he's still in the heart of the enemy fleet. If I used it now, Wing Zero would be inoperable, and the Alliance would capture Heero!"

"Right," said Kira, "so what do we do?"

Murrue took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to ask of Kira would be the most dangerous thing the young Coordinator had ever done in his life. "Kira… I need you to draw Heero away from the fleet." She looked into his eyes, unable to keep the desperation from her voice as she pleaded for his help. "Kira, I know what I'm asking of you is incredibly risky, and I dearly wish there was another way… but this is the only plan I can think of. The Freedom is the only mobile suit on our side that's strong enough to go against Wing Zero. Please… help me save Heero from the Zero System… from himself."

Kira nodded, and his expression was one of resolve and determination. "I will, Captain. I promise I'll stop Heero and bring him back!"

"Thank you, Kira," Murrue replied, "Please, be careful… we've already lost you once; we can't do so again. And… I'm sorry, for asking this of you."

She was surprised to see the boy smile softly. "It's alright, Captain. You said it yourself; I'm the only one that stands a chance at stopping him. Besides, though we do have our differences, Heero's my friend, and I'll do whatever it takes to help him, to bring him back to us!"

Murrue nodded. "I understand. Good luck, Kira… and again, thank you."

"You're welcome, Captain Ramius," said Kira, "Freedom out."

Murrue watched as Kira flew off towards the Alliance fleet, the new burgundy mobile suit following behind him. I never did ask him about that machine, she thought, I suppose it'll have to wait. If it's working with Kira, then he must know the pilot… hopefully they'll be able to help him stop Heero.

She turned to her personal monitor, which showed Wing Zero slicing two full-flight Strikes in half before turning its attention to an escort carrier, which it promptly destroyed with the Twin Buster Rifle. Heero, she thought, I'm sorry that I have to send Kira against you like this… but I swore that I would protect you, even from yourself if that were the case, and I'm going to do exactly that. I won't lose you to the Zero System! I will save you!

….

"Ready, Athrun?" asked Kira as he streaked towards the Atlantic Federation fleet, his childhood friend right on his heels.

"Yeah," Athrun replied, "we'll cut through the Strike squadrons that are surrounding Wing Zero. Then you draw him off while I discourage pursuit… that's our plan, right?"

"Pretty much," said Kira, "Unless you have a better idea."

Kira saw his friend shake his head on the monitor. "Wish I did… Kira, I've been on the receiving end of what Wing Zero can do, and comparing that to what I'm seeing now, I know Heero Yuy was holding back before. This plan… it's one hell of a gamble, but I guess it's all we've got to work with."

"Yeah," said Kira softly as he looked at the battle raging ahead. The airborne Strikes were frantically engaging Wing Zero in an attempt to draw his attention away from the warships below. They were succeeding… at a steep price. The Gundam cut down one machine after another with its beam saber, and annihilated entire flight groups at a time with the Twin Buster Rifle. It moved with cold, ruthless efficiency, and attacked with unmatched power and brutality. Wing Zero moved like lightning, weaving through beam fire and deflecting saber strikes before counterattacking, blocking any shots it couldn't dodge on its shield.

Though they had been much reduced over the course of the battle, there were still roughly 200 full-flight Strikes in the fight. Heero was a phenomenal pilot, but Kira knew that even he had his limits, and after fighting so long the Gundam pilot had to be getting tired. The Alliance mobile suits may have taken heavy losses, but there were still enough left to overwhelm him with sheer numbers eventually. Kira needed to draw him away before he reached the point that the enemy could start doing damage to him. Of course, this meant that the young Coordinator would be facing a rampaging Heero who wasn't as weakened by fatigue as he would if Kira let him continue, but the boy was hopeful that the battle had gone on long enough to at least exert some toll on the Gundam pilot's endurance.

Heero said even he had his limits, thought Kira, his eyes narrowing, his endurance can only be stretched so far. Considering he's been involved in the heaviest fighting of the battle, he should've exerted far more energy than I did… hopefully it'll be enough to give me an edge.

Bringing the Freedom's guns to bear, Kira selected his targets and opened fire. A flurry of rail cannon shots, emerald beams, and plasma blasts flew forth, disarming five airborne Strikes in his path. To his left he saw Athrun open fire as well with the Justice's shoulder cannons and beam rifle, and three mobile suits were destroyed. Athrun had clearly not embraced Kira's preferred method of fighting with his new mobile suit, but now wasn't the time for Kira argue with him about that; the two of them had much more important things to deal with.

"You've got a window," said Athrun, "go! I'll cover you!"

"Thanks," said Kira as he charged forward.

Sorry about this, Heero, he thought as he zeroed in on his friend, but I can't let you keep attacking like this, and I definitely won't let some operating system turn you into a mass-murderer!

….

Slashing his emerald blade through an Alliance mobile suit, Heero saw out of the corner of his eye a pair of new contacts approaching. One was a large burgundy mobile suit that he'd never seen before. He watched as it broke off its approach and moved to draw fire away from its partner, which was charging right for Heero.

The Freedom.

There was a brief instance of hesitation as a small part of Heero's mind tried to tell him that it wasn't an enemy, that it was Kira's mobile suit, his friend's machine. However, it was quickly drowned out by the powerful commands of the Zero System, to destroy all enemies… and the Freedom was flying towards him with its guns brought up to bear, and its violet beam saber ignited.

It was on an attack run.

It was an enemy.

And Heero would destroy it.

….

(Start "If There Were Any Other Way")

Sighting in with the Freedom's guns, Kira opened fire in an effort to grab Heero's attention. To say he succeeded was an understatement; as Wing Zero weaved through the Freedom's barrage it brought its own monstrously powerful rifle to bear, and cut loose. Kira dove, barely able to dodge the blast. I can't afford to try and block those shots, he thought grimly, even at a low power setting they could destroy the Freedom… and that was a big blast! I doubt he's firing it at full power right now, but he's not messing around either!

Right on the heels of the shot Kira saw Heero charge straight at him. Kira brought his beam saber up to block the incoming strike from Heero's weapon, and was staggered by the sheer power behind the attack. The Freedom was strong enough to block the blow, but the power Wing Zero was able to put behind it sent a shudder through the mobile suit, and pushed it back slightly.

Kira's eyes widened as he struggled to pull back and set up for a counterattack. He'd had no idea Wing Zero's physical strength was that intense. He found himself with a new measure of respect for the Valkyrie Team; how they'd been able to fend off such attacks in their much weaker DINNs was beyond him.

Still, though the force of the blow had caught him off balance, now that he knew what to expect Kira would be able to compensate for it. He still had a hard fight ahead of him, of course, but knowing he could at least fend off Heero's attacks gave him a measure of reassurance. Gunning the Freedom's thrusters in reverse and bringing its artillery to bear, Kira opened up, attempting to score hits on Wing Zero's shoulders and legs, not shooting vital spots but putting Heero off balance.

None connected, and Kira's eyes widened as Heero once again weaved through the barrage with inhuman speed and precision. Is this the power of the Zero System, Kira thought as Wing Zero once again brought the Twin Buster Rifle to bear, this is the kind of precognition it gives Heero? To the point that it allows him to read the angle of my guns, predict the path of my shots? Unbelievable!

Kira jinked to the right as Heero opened fire again with the Twin Buster Rifle, narrowly avoiding the wave of golden-yellow hellfire. Checking his sensors, Kira saw that they were still above the heart of the fleet, though they had moved slightly southward. Not enough, he thought, I have to get us completely out of the Alliance's range. This will be tricky… and that's probably the understatement of the year right there.

Adjusting his tactics, Kira let loose a volley of shots with the Freedom's rifle, using the single weapon to draw Heero's attention without having to risk shots fired from his other guns potentially hitting and destroying Alliance units. Wing Zero brought up its shield and blocked the shots while at the same time gunning its engines and charging at him head on.

Bringing up his beam saber, Kira managed to block Heero's emerald blade as it came down in a brutal vertical strike. The powerful impact cause Kira to lose some altitude, but the blow didn't shake him as badly as the first one had; he had managed to compensate to a degree, continuing to fire the Freedom's reverse thrusters in order to take some of the bite out of the hit and offer less straight-on resistance.

The move worked, but it also gave Heero room to press his assault, which he did with ruthless efficiency and brutality, hammering down with another blow. Kira applied the same tactic to block while at the same time lessening the impact, but quickly realized that he could not sustain a pattern like this; Heero would drive him down into the sea otherwise.

"Damn it!" he hissed, swerving to the right in an attempt to parry the next blow instead of taking it head-on. It worked, but Wing Zero quickly adjusted its position before Kira could turn the parry into a counterattack, and lashed out with a vicious horizontal slash. This time Kira took the blow on his shield, but the speed at which Heero had adapted and delivered his assault did not give the young Coordinator any space or time to compensate for the blow, and the Freedom once again shuddered under the powerful impact.

Kira struck back, thrusting forward in an attempt to pierce Wing Zero's left shoulder, but the Gundam side-slipped to the left, evading the attack. The fearsome mobile suit then brought the Twin Buster Rifle up and fired, forcing Kira to hit his thrusters and ascend to dodge the shot. The golden-yellow beam had barely left the rifle when Heero responded, chasing after the Freedom and closing in to attack from below.

Adjusting his angle, Kira launched an attack of his own, lashing out with the Freedom's violet blade. Wing Zero blocked the blow and redirected it downward, and Kira was hard pressed to bring the Freedom's shield up to block the near instantaneous counterattack. The slash hit the large slab of metal hard, pushing the Freedom back.

But it was back in the direction Kira wanted to go; south, closer to the Orb forces and away from the Alliance fleet. Granted, they were still over the enemy armada, and Kira knew that he wasn't nearly out of the woods yet. Still, it was progress.

At least Athrun's keeping the mass production Strikes occupied, he thought. Sparing a brief glance at one of his other monitors, Kira saw that his old friend was indeed leading the swarms of Alliance mobile suits on a merry chase, flitting all over the sky like a fly, peppering his foes with a few well placed shots from the Justice's ranged weapons. Athrun truly had a knack for defensive and diversionary tactics; his flying style allowed him to keep the enemy at bay while at the same time drawing their attention, and he was able to give himself openings to launch attacks while maintaining enough distance to evade return fire.

He'd only glanced away for a fraction of a second, but Heero made him pay dearly for even that much, hammering down with a brutal diagonal strike. Unable to properly compensate this time, Kira was forced to take the full impact of the blow on his violet blade. Struggling to pull back and counterattack, Kira was stunned to see Heero near-instantaneously pull his blade back only to lunge in for another attack, this one a horizontal slash. Once again Kira was able to block the blow, but it was quickly followed up by another slice.

Is it just me, thought Kira as he struggled to fend off the withering assault and find an opening to counterattack, or is he actually getting faster? After a moment Kira realized that was indeed the case and he also knew why. His plan to have Athrun keep the Alliance's air squadrons at bay had had an unintended consequence. Kira may not have had to worry about anyone trying to interrupt their fight… but neither did Heero and, more importantly, the Zero System. The Freedom was now the sole target of Wing Zero, and its lethal operating system only had to predict the moves of one unit as a result. The Zero System was thus able to focus all its power on Kira, driving Heero into a ferocious single-minded assault, using the Gundam pilot's incredible talents in the art of war as a hammer to beat the Freedom into submission.

Sweat dripped down Kira's brow, his breathing becoming more strained as the fierce clash continued. Whatever fatigue Heero might've been suffering wasn't slowing him down half as much as Kira had hoped it would, and in fact it was the young Coordinator who was beginning to wear down. His prolonged clash with the Alliance prototypes had already exacted a toll on him, but compared to the fight he was in now that previous engagement seemed like a brief skirmish.

Bringing his shield up to block another vertical strike, Kira was at last able to put a bit of distance between himself and Wing Zero. Bringing the Freedom's guns to bear, he opened up, trying to drive Heero down towards the sea with his barrage.

It didn't work. Heero weaved through the rain of fire, raising his shield to block one rail cannon round that he could not dodge. A second later the Twin Buster Rifle was once again pointed squarely at the Freedom, and Kira narrowly managed to side slip left to evade the blast of energy that ripped forth from the gun.

He was yet again forced on the defensive as Heero pressed his assault, closing the distance with Wing Zero's incredible speed and thrusting forward with its beam saber. Kira took the blow on his shield and moved to counterattack with his violet blade, but Wing Zero parried the strike and launched its own counter. Kira managed to pull the Freedom back enough to avoid the worst of the hit, but the emerald blade did brush across the mobile suit's left shoulder, doing no damage but leaving a furrow that even Phase Shift Armor could not dispel. Heero had scored first blood, and he wasted no time in moving in to claim more.

Trying to redirect Heero's next strike but only succeeding in a head-on block, Kira frantically checked his sensors to find his position. Their duel had moved to the edge of the Alliance fleet, and with the Atlantic Federation withdrawing to the north they would soon be completely removed from the enemy. Athrun had pulled back as well, taking up position between the Alliance fleet and the duel, firing potshots with his guns to discourage the enemy from regrouping trying to take advantage of the fight between Wing Zero and the Freedom. I just have to hold on a little longer, Kira thought, just a little more…

Whether he'd be able to do so was a serious concern; Wing Zero's assault was only intensifying as their battle continued, its pilot unleashing a series of powerful and brutal beam saber strikes, one after another. Kira was able to weather the attacks, but he was forced to remain on the defensive as a result. The Gundam then pulled back unexpectedly, but it wasn't an opening the Kira could exploit as he was forced to dive in order to avoid another blast of energy from the Twin Buster Rifle. Evading the shot, Kira desperately countered with a barrage from the Freedom's artillery. Amazingly enough Wing Zero was briefly thrown on the defensive, evading a few shots and taking the others on its shield.

Kira made the most of the brief change in momentum, pulling back and cutting loose again with the Freedom's guns. This time Wing Zero reacted truer to form, weaving through the bombardment and closing in fast to attack with its beam saber. Raising the Freedom's shield, Kira was able to deflect the strike, and he swiftly unleashed his counterattack in the form of a horizontal slash. Heero reacted instantly, blocking and redirecting the violet blade before whirling around to strike back, and Kira was barely able to adjust his angle and block the powerful slash.

"Shit," he hissed, reeling under the blow, "I'm so close…" Their duel was now at the very periphery of the Alliance armada, the borderline between hostile and friendly airspace. It would be a serious gamble for Captain Ramius to use the override code here… but Kira feared that she might have no choice in the manner. His breathing was becoming ragged; his arms felt heavier with each passing minute… he could not hold out much longer. Kira was wearing down, his reaction times slowing… if things kept going much longer then there was no way he was getting out alive.

He raised his shield to block a vertical strike, and then lashed out with his beam saber in a desperate move to buy himself some space. It didn't work; Heero blocked the blow with Wing Zero's shield before countering with his emerald blade. The strike grazed the edge of the Freedom's right arm, and Kira barely managed to pull back in time to avoid losing the entire limb.

Unfortunately, the move gave Heero the space he needed to bring the Twin Buster Rifle to bear… and as he watched the barrels of the gun begin to glow with golden-yellow energy, Kira knew that Wing Zero had him dead to rights.

(End "If There Were Any Other Way")

….

Watching as the two mobile suits clashed at the very edge of the Alliance armada, Murrue knew that she would have to make her own move soon. It was becoming all too apparent that Kira was being worn down under Heero's vicious assault; the boy wouldn't last much longer.

Timing is critical, she thought, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at the tactical display, if I act too soon then there's still a chance that the Alliance could bring units up to capture Heero. If I act too late… then Kira's dead.

They were so close to being over friendly territory, and the new mobile suit that had joined the Freedom was doing a remarkable job at keeping the remaining Alliance squadrons at bay… but Murrue was hesitant to use the override command now, unsure if it was the right time. The Atlantic Federation fleet was still pulling back, but if they sensed vulnerability then they would surely pounce.

Turning her gaze back to the monitor displaying the fight, Murrue watched as Wing Zero once again closed in on the Freedom and the two mobile suits crossed blades. There was a brief, furious exchange before Kira pulled back to avoid losing his sword arm… leaving himself open to attack from the Twin Buster Rifle. As Murrue saw Wing Zero bring its powerful main weapon to bear, she knew that it was now or never.

The radio frequency was already set to her private console; with a quick press of the button it was active, and she spoke the words she had prayed for so long that she would never have to say.

"Zero Override Command: Operation Meteor!"

Heaven forgive me if this doesn't work…

….

Bombarded by the Zero System's commands, his mind and body a conduit for its will, Heero was caught completely by surprise as the cockpit screens suddenly flashed gold, and then went dark. The incessant, powerful urgings that was the Zero System abruptly ceased, causing the Gundam pilot to look around frantically, his breathing fast and ragged, his eyes wide as he struggled to cope with the sudden, eerie silence that had enveloped him. The commands of the system still echoed in his mind, but there was no force behind them, no compulsion to obey. In the midst of this unnatural void, Heero frantically tried to figure out what had happened.

And then the realization hit him. The reason for the abrupt silence, the cessation of activity. He knew why it had happened, who had caused it… and what he had done to force her to resort to it.

"No…" he said softly, numbly, "I couldn't… I didn't…" But all the evidence pointed to what he did not want to face. He had even heard the voice that had issued the command; the frequency that was reserved for it was one Heero had made sure to lock in, so it could never be deactivated or silenced.

He had heard, with perfect clarity, Murrue's voice as it spoke those five words.

"Zero Override Command: Operation Meteor!"

The code that he had given to her for only two express uses. The first, to stop Wing Zero if it had been hijacked and he was not around… and since he was in the cockpit, that option was instantly eliminated. That left only one possibility…

He'd lost control. He'd gone on a rampage.

Heero was scarcely able to even begin comprehending what he had done. His mind had gone numb, and not just from shock. When the Zero System took over a pilot's mind, it increased their level of brain activity beyond even what he or she experienced when they were in control of the system. As a result, going into a rampage took a severe mental toll on the pilot, far worse than if they had maintained control of the Zero System, and if they managed to snap out of it their mind would need to recover from the incredible amount of raw data they had absorbed; it didn't just leave their minds all at once. Even though the Zero System's compulsions were no longer guiding Heero's actions, he could still see after images of targets, tactics, and possible outcomes, whirling through his head, overwhelming his mind.

Heero could already feel himself losing consciousness, darkness encroaching on his vision. As he passed out he could still hear Murrue's voice echoing in his mind. An image of the beautiful Captain flashed through his mind, and the Gundam pilot could only think of one response before he completely lost consciousness.

Murrue… I'm sorry…

….

Kira breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the golden-yellow glow fade from the barrels of the Twin Buster Rifle. At the same time the green glow dimmed in Wing Zero's eye and chest sensors, and the emerald beam saber was extinguished. That was close, he thought, wiping the sweat from his brow, thank you, Captain Ramius.

It was then that Kira saw the blue thruster fire from Wing Zero's engines die as well, and the Gundam began to fall. Putting away his beam saber and rifle, Kira quickly gunned his engines and managed to grab Wing Zero from behind. The Freedom's nuclear reactor provided enough power for Kira to keep Wing Zero airborne… but just barely.

Damn, thought Kira, whatever Gundanium alloy is composed of, it certainly isn't lightweight material.

La Flaga's face appeared on his monitor. "Hey, kid, need a little help?"

Kira nodded. "Yeah, thanks… Wing Zero is heavy."

"Hang tight," the Hawk of Endymion replied, "I'll be there in a few seconds. Have your buddy watch our backs until we get to the Archangel."

"I will," Kira replied. As La Flaga signed off Kira contacted Athrun. "Is the enemy still back there?"

"They're holding off for now," said Athrun, "though with the Freedom carrying Wing Zero like that you make for a really tempting target."

"The Tallgeese Kai is coming to help," Kira responded, "can you keep them off us until we get to the Archangel?"

"Tallgeese Kai?" Athrun repeated, raising an eyebrow. Kira saw him glance at another monitor before he spoke again. "Oh, that blue and white machine flying towards you… I was wondering what that thing was called. Alright, I'll cover you… just make it quick."

"We will," said Kira, "and… thanks, Athrun."

His old friend nodded. Even after working together, there was no denying the tension that still existed between the two young Coordinators. Kira could only hope that they would be able to work out all their differences latter on, and preferably without having to fight each other again. The fact that Athrun hadn't attacked him when he'd had the chance was certainly promising, and signaled that Kira's childhood friend was willing to at least talk things over with him.

He saw the Tallgeese Kai pull up in front of Wing Zero, grabbing it beneath the shoulders in the same manner Kira was doing from behind. It was an awkward sight to say the least, but with another mobile suit helping out Kira felt his momentum increase, and the three of them were steadily approaching the Archangel.

A few seconds later Athrun contacted him again. "Alright, the Alliance mobile suits are breaking off; looks like they're heading back to their carriers. I think it's safe to say that they're done for the day."

"Alright," said Kira, "come with us then, Athrun. I'll ask the Captain to let you come aboard the Archangel. We can… talk later."

Athrun nodded. "Ok… I'll be right behind you, Kira."

….

"Freedom and Tallgeese Kai have landed," Miriallia reported, "Kira and La Flaga both report no damage to Wing Zero. They're moving it to its berth now. That new mobile suit has landed behind them as well."

"What about Heero?" asked Murrue, trying and failing to keep the concern from her voice, "Has anyone been able to get through to him?"

"No ma'am," Miriallia replied, "Chief Murdoch and the tech crews are trying radios and even megaphones, but they're not getting a response… and they're concerned about trying to force the hatch open."

Of course, thought Murrue, I'm the only one Heero told about adjusting Wing Zero's security precautions, about not having the self-detonation system set to blow if anyone gets to close.

"Tell them I'm coming down!" she ordered, standing up as she did so, "Lieutenant Tsukino, you have the bridge!"

The black haired woman nodded at her, raising an eyebrow but not objecting to her words or conduct. Murrue quickly walked out of the bridge, and the moment the door closed behind her she broke into a full-out run. The only thing on her mind now was the safety of Heero. Murrue didn't know how the Zero System affected pilots who went on a rampage, but from what Heero had told her she had no doubt it took a serious toll on their minds, and she was extremely worried about Heero's condition, both mentally and physically.

Is he even conscious right now, she thought frantically, or is he in shock? Heero didn't tell me what the override code would do beyond stopping the Zero System from controlling him and immobilizing Wing Zero… what if the sudden shut down had some kind of backlash effect? I don't know what to do… if he doesn't open the cockpit, should I have the tech crews force it? Would they even be able to get it open? Heero… please, be ok! I'm coming to you, Heero!

She flew through the halls, running faster than she ever had in her life. Charging through the hangar door, she nearly barreled into Chief Mechanic Murdoch as she rushed to Wing Zero.

"Captain!" the head mechanic cried out, taken aback by her sudden appearance, "Hey, wait a second ma'am!"

She blew right past him, climbing up the ladder and onto the maintenance gangway that had been extended in front of Wing Zero's torso, level with the hatch. The mechanics were keeping a good distance from the machine, and Murrue saw several pairs of eyes widen in shock and alarm as she approached the Gundam.

"Captain!" one of the techs cried out, "Don't get any closer, it could blow!"

"It won't!" she yelled back, "Heero adjusted the security systems after that mess with Sai and the Strike; it's not set to self-detonate anymore!"

I'm sorry, Heero, she thought as she approached the machine, I know you wanted that kept secret, but this is too important! For all I know your very life could be on the line here! After coming so far, getting so close to you, falling in love with you… there's no way I'm going to lose you now!

Her pace slowed as she got closer, until finally she came to a stop right in front of the Gundam. She could see the cockpit hatch in front of her, but she didn't have the faintest idea how to open it, nor did she know how to get Heero's attention; if he hadn't responded to the tech crew's attempts to contact him or transmissions from the bridge, then what the hell was she supposed to do now?

Still, the overwhelming strength of the affection, the love she had for the young man inside the mobile suit would not allow her to sit back on the bridge and do nothing. Murrue was determined to do something, anything to help Heero… unfortunately, beyond the override command she had used earlier she did not know what she could do.

"Heero…" she said softly, at a loss for any other words, her mind struggling desperately in search of a way to get to the young man who meant more to her than anyone or anything else in the world.

It was then that she felt something, a presence… one that she had felt before, several months ago. Back in North Africa, when Heero had brought her inside Wing Zero and given her the means to stop the machine and him should he lose control of its incredibly dangerous operating system.

It can't be, she thought, her eyes widening, I used the override command… it should be shut down!

But there was no denying what she was feeling now; the sense that she was being watched, evaluated... by the Zero System. It was strange; the feeling Murrue was getting as she looked up at Wing Zero was that of passive awareness, like the machine knew she was there, and was waiting for her to act in some way.

Maybe the override command doesn't completely shut it down, Murrue thought, maybe it immobilizes the Gundam and stops the Zero System from actively influencing the pilot, but the program still maintains a degree of awareness. If that was the case, then maybe… a desperate idea was forming in Murrue's mind, one that she would've dismissed as foolish a few months ago, and would not have a chance of working with any other mobile suit.

But Wing Zero was not just any other mobile suit. Murrue remembered the recording Heero had shown her back when they had first met, of the Barge incident and his subsequent journey to the Cosmic Era. She recalled how Wing Zero had begun to move on its own, without any prompting from Heero.

The Gundams of Heero's world were unlike any other mobile suits in existence. As impossible as it seemed, those unique machines had some semblance of awareness that went beyond simple sensors and programming. There was a will, a conscience, however vague and indistinct it might be.

And Wing Zero's was observing her now. Amplified by the now passive Zero System, it waited patiently for her to make a move.

Murrue took a deep breath, looking up at the cold mechanical eyes of the Gundam. She knew the tech crews were watching her. It might've been from a cautious distance, but they would still be able to hear what she was about to say.

Murrue didn't care.

"Please…" she begged, unable to keep the desperation from her voice, "give him back… give Heero back to me! Don't… don't take away the man I love!"

It was an anguished plea, one that by any rights should've been dismissed outright as an act of irrational romanticism, one that should not have had any effect on the cold, unfeeling, mechanical weapon to which it was being made to.

And yet…

(Start "Anna Ni Issho Datta No Ni")

Murrue's eyes widened as she heard a low thrum, saw the green optical sensors in Wing Zero's head briefly flash green, along with the emerald orb in its chest.

There was a hiss, the sound of a latch unhooking… and the cockpit opened.

Murrue raced forwards, leaping into the cockpit the instant she was able to. Fear clenched her heart when she saw Heero… passed out in the pilot's chair.

"Heero!" she cried, grabbing him by the shoulders, "Oh, god, please be alright! Heero!"

Recalling the basic first aid training every Atlantic Federation soldier received, she frantically felt for a pulse, barely able to calm herself to the point that she would be able to detect one. After a moment she found it, and at the same time saw that Heero was breathing, though it was in small, shallow breaths.

"Heero," she said, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other to his cheek, "please, wake up! Heero!"

His eyes fluttered open briefly, and it tore at Murrue's heart when she saw the combination of weariness and shock within them.

"Murrue…" he said softly.

"Heero, it's alright! I'm here, I'm with you!" she cried, "Heero!"

There was a brief flash of… something… in his eyes. Acknowledgement, gratitude, affection… Murrue didn't know which; it could've been any of them.

And it didn't matter, because the Gundam pilot passed out in her arms a second later.

"Heero, stay with me!" she cried out, "Heero!"

Preview for next time!

Recovering from the toll exerted on him by the Zero System, Heero lies unconscious in the Archangel's medical bay. Murrue stays at his side, desperate for his recovery and at the same time trying to figure out what cause him to lose control of the Zero System. Meanwhile, Athrun and Kira at long last confront each other. Will they allow the past to once again tear them apart, or will they come together in order to protect the future? With the Alliance fleet regrouping on the horizon, bolstered by the Eurasian Home Fleet, Lord Uzumi knows that Orb cannot survive a second assault, and begins preparations to insure the survival of Orb's legacy and ideals. Though the island nation will soon fall, the hope for a better future embodied within it will live on in those that will escape into outer space, carrying on the struggle to bring an end to the Bloody Valentine War without destroying humanity in the process. Next time, on "Journey to a New Battlefield", Episode Eighteen: A Light for the Future.

From the Lion's ashes, the phoenix will take flight, burning wings lighting the way for those who fight for tomorrow.

Author's Notes: Man, this was not an easy chapter to do, and not just because of the length! Still, it was a lot of fun, in no small part because of the challenge. So many different character interactions, intricate battles, drama, backroom plotting, romance… I love it all!

Special thanks to EpyonZero23 for his support throughout this chapter's creation, especially all the discussions we had over PM. Highly recommend reading his Gundam Wing/Amagami SS fic, "Haruka's Wings", an absolutely beautiful piece of drama/romance literature. Keep up the good work, buddy!

Also, thanks to everyone else who has read this story so far, whether you have reviewed or not. Knowing you guys and girls want to read this fic is part of what makes writing it so much fun!

Please review, and until next time, my friends!