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...

23. Chapter 23

Author's notes: Still alive? Hahaha, ok, sorry it's been so long since my last update. Things have been busy on my end with work and college, but there's also the fact that this chapter is quite possibly the longest one in the fic to date. No combat here, the focus for this one is politics, romance, and character interaction. Don't worry, I promise the next few chapters will more than make up for the lack of fighting in this one!

Standard operating procedure here; have food and beverages on hand, along with a lot of time to kill. You're going to need it.

Disclaimer for the hell of it: I don't own Gundam Wing or Gundam Seed. I'm writing this story because it's my idea of fun.

Only one song in this chapter for those of you who've been going along with this story's musical score. It's "Time Stand Still" by Rush, one of my favorite pieces by one of my favorite classic rock bands.

Enjoy!

Episode Twenty-Three: Tides of War

Sitting in the back of the cab as it drove through the heart of the capital city, Field Marshal Rau Le Creuset looked out the window at the bustling midday crowds. Civilians and soldiers alike went about their business, though the masked officer thought he detected something new in their demeanor. It was difficult to determine what exactly it was at a glance, though the blonde pilot had a few suspicions of his own regarding it.

Everyone's on edge, he mused as the cab stopped at a red light, and it's impossible to blame them. After all, when was the last time the homeland was directly threatened? Not since the Battle of Jachin Due and the Battle of Avalon… well, the First Battle of Avalon, that is. Recent activity will no doubt mean a change in the title of the late station's first engagement. All has been calm on the home front for over a year. The battles were in other corners of outer space, or down on the Earth itself. Everyone was laboring under the belief that ZAFT had completely secured L5, that nothing could touch us here.

That last thought caused the Field Marshal to smirk. The complacency that had fallen over the PLANTs had been slowly but surely eroding over the past few months. It had begun with the attack on Heliopolis and the escape of the legged ship and the last of its mobile suits, though at the time Creuset had been convinced that the matter would be wrapped up quickly and would in the end be nothing more than a temporary blip on the radar. However, the arrival of Wing Zero had complicated matters considerably, and the legged ship and its mobile suits had evolved into a true wild card.

I had hoped to eliminate their interference with the Cyclops detonation at Alaska, he thought as the light turned green, alas, it was not to be. What a pain that ship and that damned mobile suit have been since then. Still… I never dreamed that they would pull a stunt like this.

It had been four days since the destruction of the Avalon battle-station and the breaching of Aprilius One. The general reaction had, unsurprisingly, been one of complete shock. Even now the populace was still struggling to come to terms with what had just occurred, what so many in the upper half of the colony had actually witnessed firsthand.

The civilian population was not the only group reeling from the impact of the raid. ZAFT had been caught completely unaware by the fast and hard-hitting strike, and the military had been completely humiliated as a result. Not only had their mightiest defense station been obliterated, but the attackers had completely pierced the Home Fleet's defenses, mauled the interior forces of the capital, and gotten back out again. Zala had immediately called emergency sessions of both the Defense Council and the Supreme Council, and the Chairman had been rushing back and forth between the two bodies almost around the clock sense then.

Zala's furious, Creuset mused, that is only natural, but one would expect an official of his station to have a little more of a reign on his temper. Of course, I know him better than most, and his response to this little mess has not disappointed me given my expectations of him. That being said, it is making him harder to deal with. He's much more volatile, more impassioned now than ever before. It makes him more susceptible to manipulation… but also more unpredictable.

There were several factors in the raid that tied in with this surge of anger in the Defense and Supreme Council Chairman, and Creuset knew that, apart from the destruction of Avalon, the losses suffered by ZAFT were not the foremost among them. This did not particularly bother the masked Field Marshal, but he knew that others would not share his sentiment. If looked at from a tactical standpoint, the losses suffered by ZAFT had been severe. The casualties included twenty-three capital ships destroyed, another twenty-two suffering varying degrees of damage, and hundreds of mobile suits destroyed or disabled. Those losses added up to approximately a quarter of the forces available on the Avalon Line, and when the destruction of the battle-station was added into the mix the combined casualties came close to rivaling the First and Second Battles of Alaska.

However, in the grand strategic picture, the losses were not too troubling to the Field Marshal. It was true that they had occurred at a time when ZAFT had been increasingly forced onto the defensive, but the casualties were but a fraction of the forces available to the immense Home Fleet. Creuset was aware that ships and mobile suits were already being reallocated from the other Defense Lines to bolster the lower fortifications, and a portion of the vast fleet of new vessels and machines being churned out by the shipyards and factories would also be sent to reinforce the position. The losses in personnel would be made up as well in the form of a new draft law that had been instituted by the PLANT Supreme Council the day after the raid had taken place.

Per the new law, Creuset thought, all men and women sixteen years of age or older not involved in vital occupations deemed vital to the war effort and maintaining the colonies are required to enroll in the ZAFT training institutions. Fifteen is the minimum age that people have been accepted as volunteers for the armed forces before now, and it's drawn some controversy. However, given the advanced capabilities of even young Coordinators, the decision was ultimately allowed. However, conscripting people merely a year older is another matter altogether in the eyes of the general population. Were they not still recovering from the shock the raid on Aprilius One put into them, I'd imagine there would've been organized protests to the law. As it stands now, it's only a matter of time. The radicals think that just because they set the conscription limit at one year above the minimum volunteer age the populace will go along with it, but that will not be the case. When a son or daughter volunteers to go off to war, that is one thing… but when they are forced to take part in the largest war mankind has ever seen, that is quite another, especially as far as their parents are concerned. How will you handle the inevitable outcry, Zala?

In the end, the new law and any protests it drew amounted to little more than a sideshow as far as the masked ace was concerned. The measure would help to fill gaps in the ranks… draw more lambs to the slaughter.

That was all Creuset cared about.

Though ZAFT could recover from the material and personnel losses, the Field Marshal knew that the real damage that had been done was to the credibility of the armed forces… and, more importantly, to that of their leader. Zala had been elected in no small part due to his campaign promises to both end the war quickly and make the PLANTs completely secure, impervious to any sort of offensive action. The complete and abject failure of ZAFT to prevent the heart of the Coordinator homeland from being breached had utterly shattered the sense of security that the populace had given themselves by electing Zala and other politicians that shared his beliefs to positions of power. People were demanding answers, and Creuset knew that the few moderates that still remained in positions of power were making the most of the situation. The opposition within the PLANTs to the policies of Zala and his allies was now centered on Councilor Eileen Canaver of September City… or rather, the opposition that Zala had yet to move against. Creuset knew that Lacus Clyne was still considered the true leader of the movement, but Councilor Canaver was more or less regarded as their main manager within the PLANTs. However, there was little, if any, real evidence to that, and even Zala could not move against a sitting Councilor without a solid justification and hard evidence. Therefore, Canaver and her sole remaining ally on the Council, Yuri Amalfi of Maius City, were able to keep their seats in the executive governing body, though the radical supermajority meant that they were unable to effect any true change to national policy, foreign or domestic.

It was easy to move against Siegel Clyne, mused Creuset, his daughter was caught on camera aiding and abetting the theft of the Freedom, and she could not have gained access to the facility where it was kept without her father's assistance. That made it a simple matter to charge both father and daughter with treason; the evidence was incontrovertible. Canaver, however, has played a much more cautious game. Everyone knows she's in the Clyne camp, but not a scrap of evidence has been found that can be used to remove her from power and neutralize her. As for Yuri Amalfi, with the death of his son back on Earth he has gained protection in the form of sympathy. Since he has lost family in this war, people are inclined to think that Nicol's demise would only strengthen Councilor Amalfi's commitment to the PLANTs and ZAFT. However, the Councilor's views have not changed, at least not to my knowledge; his ideals are the same as those of Councilor Canaver, the late Siegel Clyne, his daughter, and their followers. Whether or not he is simply afraid to get in the game and risk his own neck or is as crafty as Canaver has been is not something I have been able to determine, though. He's joined Canaver in her calls for an investigation into ZAFT's response to the raid, but that's a natural political response given his leanings and opposition to the hard line stance of Zala and his supporters. Is he simply continuing on with politics as usual, or has Miss Clyne convinced Canaver to truly bring him into the fold, to cross the line that runs between legal opposition and outright subversion and rebellion?

Only time would tell.

The Field Marshal himself had been unable to participate in the efforts to beat back Wing Zero and the strike team. His personal destroyer, the Vesalius, had been positioned on the Jachin Due Line, and even with the impressive speed that the Nazca-class ship could get up to Creuset had known that there was no way he could get into position to fight the attackers, especially not at the incredible pace that they had been moving at.

Not to mention I only have a GuAIZ at my disposal, he mused, a potent machine, especially with my skills… but still not enough to challenge Wing Zero. I could've mixed it up with Rehema and her subordinates, or the Freedom and Justice, but I still would've been outmatched on the technological side of the equation. Besides, even if I had launched in the GuAIZ I still would not have been able to make it to the engagement in time, not from where we were on the Jachin Due Line.

The same had also gone for Yzak and the Duel. While the stolen Heliopolis prototype remained a formidable machine even when compared to new models like the GuAIZ, it was still outmatched by the nuclear powered mobile suits that had pierced the Avalon Line. Yzak's personal skill and experience was undeniable, but the limitations of his machine meant that he would've had no more than a temporary delaying effect on the strike team.

Maybe not even that, thought Creuset, not if he got in the sights of Wing Zero's rifle, or the Judgment's Tartarus gun. The Duel's shield is strong, but it can't stand against that kind of firepower. Wing Zero would utterly destroy it, while the Tartarus plasma rifle would at the very least inflict crippling damage even if the shield took the blast. The same goes for my GuAIZ; the unit's Composite Shield is worthless against firepower of that magnitude. It's a pity the Providence is still not ready for battle. While the Judgment at least provided proof that the DRAGOON system works in combat, that unit only uses two of the gun drones; Providence's system is far more complex. Eleven drones to the Judgment's two, and each with multiple guns… combine that with all the other sophisticated equipment on the mobile suit, and I guess it's no surprise the Providence is not yet combat worthy. I'll just have to make do with the GuAIZ and my own skills for the time being.

As the cab moved through the central commerce section of the capital city Creuset saw a very familiar figure suddenly appear on one of the large advertising screens… along with every other screen in the area.

Well, thought the Field Marshal as he beheld the image of none other than Lacus Clyne, this ought to be interesting. What's the little songbird have to say this time… and why is the Secret Service and Military Intelligence still unable to block her transmissions?

"Driver," he said, "pull over and roll down the windows. I want to hear this."

"Fine," replied the cabbie, a dark skinned man in his mid twenties, "just be aware that the meter's still running."

"You'll be properly compensated," said Creuset, waving his hand in dismissal.

The taxi came to a stop alongside the curb, and the masked officer leaned over and turned to face the screen. Creuset noted that the songstress's appearance had changed somewhat since the last time he'd seen her. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she had forgone her usual white and purple dress in favor of a black and purple outfit with a white jacket worn over it.

Rather fitting, considering her new status as a fugitive, he mused, it's more practical than her usual gowns, but it still gives her an air of grace, nobility, and serenity. The girl has always known how to dress for an audience, a gift that stems not just from her career as an idol singer but from her upbringing under a powerful politician. Well, Miss Clyne, let's see what kind of performance you'll give us today…

The pink-haired songstress wasted no time in starting her address. "Citizens of the PLANTs," she said, "civilians and soldiers alike… I pray that you are well, though I would of course understand if you take skepticism given my opposition to the current regime. Doubts of my sincerity are quite natural considering the circumstances… but what I am about to tell you cannot be doubted at all, for I have evidence to support my claims."

"As I am sure you are all aware," she continued, "the defenses of Aprilius One were breached, and the colony itself infiltrated, by none other than Wing Zero and its pilot, Heero Yuy. I know not what Chairman Zala and his subordinates have told you regarding the operation, but what I do know is that our actions were taken to address a cruel injustice perpetrated by the radical faction."

"You all know that Charon Prison was attacked during the raid," said Lacus, "but what you may not know is why it was struck. Held within the facility were Soran and Akila Rehema, the parents of none other than Commander Shemei Rehema, whom many of you know as the Valkyrie. Soran and Akila had been taken because their daughter opposed the ideals of Zala and his supporters, their beliefs that we cannot make peace with the Naturals. They had committed no crimes of their own, save for being the mother and father of a daughter who had a strong conscience… and that they were Naturals living within the PLANTs."

The image on the screen shifted to show the Rehemas in their cell. The picture was at a mid-level elevation, and Creuset surmised it had been taken from one of the cameras implanted in the wall rather than one of the devices imbedded in the ceiling. It drew gasps from the people assembled around the screen, but Creuset was not focused on the subjects of the footage. Rather, his eyes narrowed behind his mask as he read the time stamp on the image.

The date and time, he thought, his mind working at lightning speed, this is…

Suddenly the image on the screen shook, and Creuset knew why. The timestamp on the footage was the only hint he needed. Sure enough, he saw Soran and Akila dive beneath the bed after a moment, and then the screen was filled by a flash of brilliant green light. When the image was eventually restored Creuset could clearly see the artificial light of the PLANTs coming in through the massive gap in the ceiling. The far wall had also been torn out, but rather than light being visible through it, what the masked Field Marshal saw instead was the torso of a mobile suit. A very familiar mobile suit.

Wing Zero.

Then Creuset saw the hatch of the mobile suit's cockpit open, and he had to resist the urge to smile. Finally, after so many months of wondering, he and the people of the PLANTs would at last catch a glimpse of the pilot that had rocked the Cosmic Era to its core.

"At last," said the Field Marshal softly, "at long last…"

The masked officer watched as Heero Yuy exited his mobile suit. The pilot looked much younger than Creuset had been expecting, and he surmised that ZAFT's enigmatic and powerful adversary was around the same age as Athrun Zala. The young man's attire was quite striking, consisting of a surprisingly elaborate uniform that belonged in another era. It lent an air of nobility to a being whom, even over an electronic image, gave off the vibe of a hardened combat veteran. His expression was calm and determined, resolute and strong… the young man appeared as indomitable as his mobile suit. His build was on the slight and slender side, but just from the way Wing Zero's pilot held himself Creuset knew that it was a form that was toned and seasoned by harsh training and plenty of brutal battles.

Not entirely what I expected, the Field Marshal mused, and yet… he does not disappoint. How strange… and intriguing.

Creuset watched as the recording continued and displayed Heero's dialogue with the Valkyrie's parents for all to see. His gaze sharpened behind his mask as the young man revealed to the public Zala's recent efforts to round up all the Naturals, along with ZAFT's new policy of no quarter when it came to the campaigns being waged against the Earth Alliance, not to mention the covert attempts to murder Lacus Clyne and the assassination of her father, both of which had been done without even trying to take them alive for questioning and trial.

The death of Siegel Clyne was released to the public, Creuset mused, though Zala lied regarding the circumstances. The people were led to believe that the former Chairman had committed suicide rather than face capture and trial, and that his daughter had charmed members of ZAFT into spiriting her away from Aprilius One. Of course, with all the broadcasts she's made since going into hiding, she's had plenty of chances to argue her side of what happened during that raid that killed her father, and she has done so, but hers was the sole voice speaking about those events. Now that the people have heard Heero Yuy back up her claims, they may be given more weight. It always helps to have a second voice arguing in your corner… even if said voice belongs to the pilot that's wiped out legions of our soldiers.

The Field Marshal looked on as Wing Zero's pilot continued to speak with the Valkyrie's parents and persuade them to cooperate with him. He was impressed by the young man's directness and his brutal honesty, especially the manner in which he ruthlessly picked apart the self-righteousness of Soran Rehema. In his own way, the formidable soldier was almost as charismatic as Lacus. It certainly was not in the traditional sense of the word, but the combination of cool logic and burning determination in his gaze and voice was quite potent and commanded respect.

Quite a show, Heero Yuy, he mused, it seems the art of war is not the only area in which your talents lie. A pity it is only now that I have the chance to bear witness. We may have spoken during the battle that annihilated the 8th Fleet, but that communication was strictly audio… and all too brief. Then again, I suppose that was good fortune for me; had our engagement lasted any longer, my survival would have been in doubt. Certainly I was no match for you when my unit was a CGUE, even with the modifications mine had been given prior to the battle.

Once the dialogue concluded the image shifted back to Lacus. "I know that up until now you have been led to believe that Heero Yuy and Wing Zero present a dire threat to the PLANTs," said Lacus, "however, this is not the case. In spite of the high casualties he has inflicted against the forces of ZAFT, Heero is fighting to protect people and bring this conflict to an end, just as all the others that have flocked to the banner of my late father and I have been. That is why so many of us have taken up arms against the current government; Chairman Zala does not hold any belief in peaceful coexistence between our race and the Naturals. More importantly, he has already taken steps towards his ultimate goal, and that of his faction; wiping them out. Commander Rehema's parents may have been kidnapped in part due to their connection to her, but they were also taken in large part simply because they were Naturals living within the PLANTS… and they are not alone."

The songstress vanished from the screen. In her place flashed images of scores of people, their names under their faces… pictures of other Naturals that had been taken by the regime.

How did she get those images?, he thought, Zala had those abductions take place under the strictest secrecy…

The thought only lasted for a moment before the masked Field Marshal reached the obvious conclusion; Eric Bristow had somehow accessed the information and had passed it on to her. The extent of the man's information network had once again surpassed Creuset's expectations.

The enigmatic officer shifted his gaze from the screen to the crowds as he monitored their reactions. He saw people who were already stunned at what was happening gasp, with many of them apparently recognizing someone among the many Naturals that were being displayed on the screen.

Of course, Creuset mused, It wasn't like they wouldn't notice that people had vanished, but the cause of their disappearances had never been revealed… until now. I'm sure they'd had their suspicions… and now they are confronted with proof. Well played, Miss Clyne.

Despite the fact that the girl's actions posed a threat to his long term plans, the Field Marshal did have a grudging respect for the young lady. Time and time again she had proven herself to be quite cunning when it came to politics, certainly more so than Zala and his followers had given her credit for. Her ability to play to a crowd and inspire people was a powerful weapon, and Creuset knew that the sincerity of her beliefs and message could be quite the persuasive force, working its magic in civilians and soldiers alike.

After a few minutes Lacus reappeared on the screen. "All of the people you just witnessed," she said, "have been imprisoned by Chairman Zala's government. They have committed no crimes; they have done nothing to warrant such treatment. They are your fellow citizens, yet they have been singled out for persecution simply because of their genes, how they were born." She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. "I'm sure I am not the only one that finds irony in the fact that Chairman Zala and his supporters have gone after the Naturals living within the PLANTs with a fervor and zeal to rival that of those who hunted us on Earth and continued to wish for our destruction even after they drove most of our people into outer space. These poor people that languish in Charon Prison and the other detention centers in the PLANTs may still be alive for the moment, but given that our government has enacted a policy of no quarter against the soldiers of the Earth Alliance, Naturals just the same as the people that this regime had abducted… well, how long do you believe it will be before Chairman Zala decides to eliminate them entirely?"

"Citizens of the PLANTs," she continued, and even over the screen the fire in her light blue eyes was clearly visible, "I ask you this: do you truly believe that these people deserve this treatment, deserve to die, simply because of how they were born? Can you truly accept as leadership a government that has embraced the same brutality as those that seek our own annihilation? Does this war have to end in the greatest act of genocide in the long and bloody annals of human history? I cannot, my father could not, and those who followed us and have joined us since cannot… and that is why we have chosen to fight both ZAFT and the Earth Alliance. Our goal is to bring peace to this world, to end this pointless bloodshed and douse the flames of hatred being fanned by the likes of Patrick Zala and Muruta Azrael before they consume the entire human race!"

"Our organization," said Lacus, "the people that are willing to fight for peace rather than destruction and hatred, is comprised of not just former ZAFT soldiers and disillusioned politicians. As you saw before, Heero Yuy has joined us, and along with him the warship Archangel, formerly of the Earth Alliance forces. We also count among our ranks the Orb warship Kusanagi and the government in exile, including Lady Cagalli Yula Athha, the daughter of the late Lord Uzumi Nara Athha. We are not a homogenous group, but a movement made up of both Coordinators and Naturals, people who want nothing more than to bring an end to this horrendous conflict… and to foster true peace and friendship between both races. None of us did wanted to take up arms, especially not against our own governments, but we cannot abide by leaders who seek to take our peoples down a path that can only lead to damnation and ruin. We do not accept the beliefs propagated by both sides, that neither can live while the other survives… and I do not think that you do either, people of the PLANTs. I have faith in all of you, in your strong hearts and keen minds… I know that the vast majority of you do not desire the wholesale slaughter of the Naturals, just as I know that the majority of Naturals do not seek the destruction of our people. Both sides have been hijacked by extremists, leaders consumed by the fires of hate, suspicion, and vengeance… but they do not represent the true will of the people that they wish to dominate."

The songstress bowed her head for a moment before facing her audience one more time. "Please, think long and hard on what you have seen and heard today. I pray for your continued safety and well being… and an end to this war that does not involve our people or our brethren down on the Earth drowning in a sea of blood. I fear that such a grim resolution to this conflict is inevitable if the current policies of the ruling party are allowed to hold sway… but it is not too late to avert tragedy. There is still hope for us all; human decency and just morality can prevail over the dark tides that threaten to plunge us into Armageddon. Farewell."

Well, thought Creuset as the screen reverted to what it had been showing prior to being pirated by the songstress, quite the spectacle, Miss Clyne… and a further embarrassment to Zala and the rest of the radicals. All the more so considering that they could not shut off your broadcast… that failure will not reflect well upon them, nor will it go unnoticed by the people. Yet another sign to them that Zala's rule has not delivered the absolute security the man promised them during the campaign…

The political consequences this would have were sure to be problematic for Chairman Zala, and they could well influence Creuset's own plans. However, the masked Field Marshal was not particularly concerned with that at the moment. He was preoccupied by the sudden and unexpected debut of Wing Zero's pilot.

So he's finally been revealed to the public, Creuset mused, Heero Yuy… How will all this play out? Up until now he's been presented by the government to the people as a shadowy threat, a menace with untold powers of destruction. Now the public is given another image, a view of a strong young man, one with principles and morals, a sense of right and wrong, and possessing great courage, cunning, and skill. What will they make of this?

"Driver," said Creuset, "we're done here. Onward, if you will."

The cabbie nodded and pulled back out into the street, continuing the journey to ZAFT HQ.

That security footage, thought Creuset, I'm sure Zala's seen it by now; it's been four days since the attack, after all. I'm surprised he did not forward it to me, however. Even with the workload I was given in the aftermath of the raid I still would've gone over it. Was it a simple oversight on his part… or has my influence actually taken a hit? I suppose I'll find out soon enough…

Eventually the taxi pulled up to the massive ZAFT HQ building. Creuset quickly paid the driver and got out, swiftly joining the bustling crowds heading in and out of the facility. The Field Marshal was struck by the frantic energy in the soldiers and staff officers as he made his way through the lobby and towards Zala's office. They were all nervous, with many of them whispering to their colleagues, ever mindful of the eyes of any potential observers. Creuset knew that their anxiety was not just due to the massive breach the Home Fleet had suffered during the raid. It also had to do with the fact that said raid would've been impossible without inside help… and that a former member of the Defense Council had been crucial in providing that assistance.

Bristow, thought Creuset, grinding his teeth as he walked through the hall, a quiet fury awakening within him, I should've known he was feeding information to Lacus and her supporters. He was operating right under my nose. Who knows what else he provided the Clyne faction with? His security clearance, and the trust Zala put in him, may not have been as high as other members of the Defense Council or me, but he was still in a position to learn a lot of valuable information. He didn't follow the beliefs of the radical faction, that was well known, but his service record combined with the political leanings of his father and the generous donations given by him to Zala and his supporters helped camouflage his true allegiance. Zala and the others were convinced that he was simply acting as a soldier and had no real interest in the political war being fought between the radicals and the moderates. His opposition to some of the decisions made by the Council, along with the actions of groups like Schwarze Squadron, was simply viewed as him standing by his own tactical and strategic beliefs and the conventions of war. He never openly defied the Council; he simply made his views on situations known and offered his own thoughts on the course of action that should be taken. I was aware that he'd been building up a sizeable network of contacts, but that's a game played by most members of the Defense Council. I knew he held some of the moderates as acquaintances, and was close friends with Shemei Rehema, but still… damn it, I underestimated him.

The Field Marshal was still silently fuming as he walked into the reception room outside the Chairman's office. Fortunately for Creuset his mask obscured most signs of his cold fury, though some hints of it were apparent for those who knew how to study body language. His tense stance, the clenching and unclenching of his fists at his side, the slightly heavier impact of his steps against the floor… they were all clues pointing to a man working to contain his anger.

As he approached the receptionist, a woman with short cropped black hair wearing the standard green uniform found on most members of ZAFT, Creuset could not help but notice a tremor go through her slender frame as she looked up at him. Taking a breath and working to relax his frame, the Field Marshal gave her a small smile.

"Hello, Miss Amelia," he said, "I have an appointment with the Chairman."

The young lady nodded and smiled, though Creuset could tell it was forced. He figured that she had caught his contained anger; receptionists were generally well versed in reading the body language of others.

"Yes, Field Marshal Creuset," she said, "let me contact him; his prior appointment should be about finished."

She pressed a button on her keyboard. "Chairman Zala? Field Marshal Creuset is here."

The reply was curt, and even with the electronic taint it sounded agitated. "Send him in."

"Yes, sir," the receptionist replied. She turned to Creuset and nodded. "Go ahead, sir."

"Thank you," he replied before heading for the officer door.

As he entered the room he saw Zala pacing back and forth before the large screen on the far wall, with two officers standing by. The two men were stiff, anxious… and clearly frightened.

To let their fear show so easily, thought Creuset, how pathetic, unprofessional… it just goes to show the affects that damn raid is having on morale and discipline.

He glanced over at the screen behind the Chairman, and saw a very familiar face; that of Lacus Clyne. The image had obviously been taken from the broadcast Creuset had witnessed on his way to ZAFT HQ.

"I don't care what you have to do," said Zala, his voice a low and menacing growl, "Find out how that bitch keeps getting into our systems! Her incessant prattle and subversion has gone on for far too long. Shut her down! Use any means necessary to extract information from the people we've detained in connection to the Clyne faction!"

"Sir," said one of the officers, "we've already interrogated the suspects we have in custody that were involved in their propaganda activities! None of them talked!"

"Because you were too damn soft," Zala replied, glaring at the man, "Throw out the goddamn rule book and put your fucking back into the work! Tell your agents that the conventions regarding proper interrogations no longer apply in this war; they have free reign to do what must be done to get the traitors to talk! Anything goes, Commander Ramirez. Is that clear?"

The man nodded. "Yes, Chairman."

"Good," said Zala, "now go and get some damned results. If that mewling whore manages another broadcast like that, you and your subordinates will be held responsible, Commander… and the consequences will be dire. Understood?"

The Commander nodded again. "Yes, Chairman."

How blunt, Chairman, Creuset mused, knowing full well what the 'consequences' for failure would be, must you be so crude? Ah, no matter; it just makes you easier to predict and manipulate.

"Dismissed," said Zala.

As the two men headed towards the exit, the Chairman waved Creuset over. "Field Marshal," he said, glancing over at the screen, "I'm sure you caught that traitorous wench's broadcast on your way over here."

The Field Marshal nodded as the office door closed. "I did, Chairman Zala. While certainly another annoyance that we don't need at this hour, it proved to be illuminating in at least one aspect."

"And that would be?" asked Zala, the corners of his mouth twitching in anger.

It looks like I'll really be walking a tightrope with him today, Creuset thought dryly, this should be interesting…

"Charon Prison's security footage," Creuset replied, "after four days without being given access to it, it was nice to at least get a glimpse of the face of our enemy."

"I needed you focused on your other tasks, Creuset," said Zala as he moved back behind his desk, "Reforming the Defense Lines to compensate for the loss of Avalon takes precedent over all your other projects… and your curiosity."

"I understand completely, Chairman," said Creuset, nodding, "However, while I have been quite busy with that assignment over these past four days, I still would've liked to see the security footage. I'm sure there's much it could teach us regarding Wing Zero's pilot, especially since the recording was both visual and audio."

"I already have Military Intelligence going over it, Field Marshal," said Zala as he sat down, "If you want the footage, I'll give you clearance to get it from them once your current assignment has been completed."

"Thank you, Chairman," said Creuset. The Chairman's words had not quite given Creuset the vital cues he'd been hoping for. Was the reason he had not been given a chance to view the footage in the immediate aftermath of the raid really just due to Zala wanting him to focus on reorganizing the PLANTs defenses, or had the masked officer actually lost esteem in the eyes of the Chairman?

"In any event," said Zala, grabbing a remote and pointing it at the screen, "Lacus's little stunt is not the only video that's raising a ruckus amongst the populace. Military Intelligence found this last night on the net."

The image on the screen shifted, and behind his mask Creuset's eyes narrowed as he saw two familiar figures appear. One was the former Commander Shemei Rehema… and the other was Heero Yuy.

This isn't from the raid, he thought, the timestamp's three days after it… what is this?

Creuset watched in fascination as the two aces drew the swords at their waists, moving so fast that the camera had barely been able to keep up… and went at it in a ferocious duel.

"So," he said as he continued to observe the fight, "they got the chance to settle their score… though not in the manner that I would've anticipated. That's the Archangel's hangar bay, isn't it sir?"

Zala nodded. "Our analysts have come to that same conclusion. Wing Zero and the new model machine, the blue and white one, are visible at certain points of the duel, and both are known to be using the legged ship as their base of operations."

"Yes…" said Creuset softly as he watched the duel.

Zala then hit the remote and began fast-forwarding the footage, much to Creuset's disappointment; he'd been enjoying the show.

I'll just have to look it up later, he thought, I've never really paid much heed to the viral world's connection to this war beyond its usefulness as an intelligence tool and a means for both sides to disseminate propaganda, and the latter function was not a concern of mine… until now.

"Look at this," Zala growled as he set the video to play again, his quiet fury coming to the forefront, "Watch this… disgrace."

Creuset looked on as the two duelists charged at each other in what he assumed would be their final strikes. As had happened in the earlier footage, both combatants moved with incredible speed, and their last attacks happened so quickly that the camera could not definitively catch who had made the winning blow. It was only after Heero and Shemei lowered their swords and turned to face each other that Creuset saw the blood trickling between the Valkyrie's fingers as she pressed her left hand to her right shoulder… and the masked Field Marshal knew what had made the Defense and Supreme Council Chairman so angry.

A Natural had defeated a Coordinator in personal combat… and thanks to the Internet, the entire Earth Sphere knew about it. The video was a monumental blow to one of the core tenets of the radical faction's ideology; that Coordinators were superior in every way to the Naturals, the next stage of human evolution. Now one of Zala's 'supreme beings' had been defeated by a 'lowly savage', and even if the Coordinator in question was a traitor it was still a powerful statement against the arguments made by the PLANTs' new regime.

"Well," said Creuset quietly as his commander-in-chief shut off the video, "this is an interesting development…"

"Hardly," Zala replied, "obviously this whole thing was staged, Field Marshal. Rehema threw that fight, and this footage was released in some foolish attempt to provide 'evidence' supporting Lacus's claims regarding our supposed 'equality' with Naturals. If that bitch thinks it will have any meaningful effect, then she is more deluded than her father…"

Creuset had to resist the urge to smirk; the Chairman's words belied the man's newly awakened insecurities as he tried to dismiss how one of the core pillars of his faction's ideology had just suffered a heavy blow, one that any human with a computer and Internet access could watch. While the Field Marshal may have preferred mechanized warfare to physical combat, the man was still very observant, and he knew that the Valkyrie had not 'thrown the fight', as Zala had claimed.

Shemei Rehema had given the duel everything she had, fought with every ounce of the considerable skill at her disposal… and she had lost.

To a Natural.

Still, it was not in Creuset's best interest to argue the point with the Chairman; Zala was volatile enough as it was. For now the Field Marshal would allow his superior to entertain whatever fantasy he wished regarding the duel and press on to more pressing concerns. However, he resolved to give the video a close examination once he was back in his office. It promised to teach him more about Wing Zero's mysterious pilot than all the analysis and speculation of Military Intelligence ever could.

If you truly want to understand a soldier, thought Creuset, watch how he does battle. I've seen plenty of recordings of Wing Zero in action, but witnessing its pilot in personal, physical combat… this should prove to be an enlightening experience.

The video also held value beyond the potential insights it could offer into ZAFT's powerful adversary. The Field Marshal was curious as to how many times the recording had been viewed since its debut… and how many members of its audience resided in the PLANTs. That information would be valuable in helping to determine the current attitude of the common people regarding the war and the ideals of the radical faction.

This is not just a film about a Coordinator and a Natural fighting, he mused, there's more to it. Even in that brief glimpse I was able to catch, it was obvious that the two combatants respected each other; they weren't fighting out of traditional animosity. I'm sure I'm not the only viewer who's recognized that… and watching those two soldiers clash in such a manner may have an effect on people. After all, the kind of mutual admiration they seem to have for each other is practically unheard of in this war nowadays. Both sides have become increasingly focused on just wiping the other out, seeing each other only with regards to how they were born. Genes dominate this war, though in the early days of the conflict few would openly admit it. Now it's different; both sides have stepped up their rhetoric considerably, to the point that they're making barely veiled threats regarding the destruction of the other, both militarily and otherwise. It does not take a genius to read between the lines, to guess that the true intentions of the rulers of both the PLANTs and the Earth Alliance is the complete annihilation of their foes… of the other race. If nothing else, Lacus has repeatedly pointed that out in her pirate broadcasts. So amidst all this, for people to witness two skilled combatants go at it without any of the hate that has become so commonplace in this war… well, I imagine it will have an impact of some sort.

"I suppose you're right, Chairman Zala," said Creuset, once again resisting the urge to smirk, "besides, it's just an Internet video; it will be forgotten within days, as most of them are."

Zala nodded. "Exactly, Field Marshal. We have far more important matters to concern ourselves with than some trivial net video in any case."

The fact that you showed it to me indicates you don't hold it to be quite as 'trivial' as you claim, thought Creuset, Zala, you are pathetically easy to read…

Zala hit another button on his remote, and the image on the screen once again shifted. This time a series of file photos came up… all of former ZAFT officers. The compilation was a who's who of the military elite, some of the best pilots and soldiers in all the Earth Sphere.

Shemei Rehema.

Lan Zhao.

Priscilla Dalca.

Adaline Bellerose.

Dearka Elsman.

Andrew Waltfeld.

Aisha Marlene.

Eric Bristow.

Athrun Zala.

The Chairman brought the last two into focus on the screen, spiting them with a glare that was pure loathing.

"Thanks to that raid," he growled, "not to mention that bitch's damned broadcasts, the entire population now knows that some of our best and brightest soldiers have turned traitor. Ace pilots, field commanders… and a member of the Defense Council. Not to mention my own son."

Creuset nodded. "Yes, that does present a blow to ZAFT's image and heightens suspicion, both from the civilians and the men and women in uniform. The fact that so many of the traitors were high profile individuals only exacerbates the issue. However, at this point I would say that public relations are a secondary concern. Miss Clyne can spout all the nonsense she wants regarding the ideals of those who've chosen to join her; she's already been identified as a traitor, and that alone taints her message. The people of the PLANTs will view her claims with suspicion, and the fact that she's the daughter of the former Chairman means that many will see her as simply trying to get back at you for having defeated her father. She can use all the charm she wants, and those who fall victim to said charms will be viewed by our people as weak. They will despise those who flock to that girl's banner, which will help mitigate the damage done to the image of ZAFT. In the meanwhile, our internal security needs to be addressed."

It was a lie, at least the parts about Miss Clyne, the other traitors, and the impacts of their defections on the general population of the PLANTs, but a well crafted one, and Creuset knew that the Chairman would go along with it due in no small part to the Field Marshal's words being exactly what he wanted to hear. The man's arrogance and vanity were almost as massive as his hatred for the Naturals, and they were tools that Creuset had long ago mastered using.

"Indeed," said Zala, "What we need to do is root out any traitors that remain in our ranks. I've already had Military Intelligence do its first roundup of suspects, and needless to say it will not be the last. We will purge our homeland of all who support Clyne's daughter and those who have defected, whether they are civilians or part of ZAFT. I've already enacted new laws through the Supreme Council completely removing the rights of suspects and detainees; there are no legal protections for that scum now."

Not that they had much to begin with, mused Creuset. Zala had already used his supermajority on the Supreme Council well before the raid on the PLANTs to begin the process of expediting 'official' government detainments, and black-ops abductions like those of Shemei Rehema's parents and other Naturals had occurred even earlier. His latest move was merely the final nail in the coffin for the rights of anyone deemed an internal enemy of the government.

"That's good to hear," said Creuset, "If I may be so bold, Chairman… I assume you've also done the same regarding the official policies for interrogations? If the conversation you were having with Commander Ramirez and his colleague earlier was any indication…"

Zala nodded and gave a cruel smile. "Indeed, Field Marshal. That was another measure that was passed through the Supreme Council in the immediate aftermath of the raid. Our interrogators are now completely free to deal with detainees in whatever manner they feel will be the most effective in extracting information. We're… going old school, if you will."

Sure, thought Creuset, resisting the urge to chuckle, old school Gestapo or KGB…

While the Field Marshal did not object to torture on moral grounds, his feelings towards it were mixed. On the one hand, the masked officer did not doubt it would get people to talk. On the other, he also knew that people would say anything to make the pain stop… and there was no guarantee that what they said would be the truth. It was something taught in any basic interrogation training course; physical abuse of prisoners in the pursuit of information might convince people to open their mouths sooner, but it came at the cost of reliable intelligence. That was why interrogators were taught to emphasize the importance of mental and psychological warfare rather than brute force… in addition to moral considerations and legal conventions, of course. Whether Zala's change in policy would be an asset or a hindrance to Creuset's plans remained to be seen; the Field Marshal would adapt accordingly when the time came.

"I'm sure that will speed up the process of rooting out the remaining traitors in our midst," said Creuset, keeping his doubts to himself, "in the meantime, though, we will need to increase our operational security protocols and screening of people in high security positions of the government and military."

Zala nodded. "Yes, and steps are already being taken along those lines. I have both Military Intelligence and the civilian Secret Service involved. If you'd like, I'll have both directors forward you copies of their findings."

"Thank you, Chairman," said Creuset, "I'm sure they will be most illuminating, and I promise I will not let examining them interfere with my own work."

"Good," Zala replied, "and we have a lot of work to do, my friend."

The Chairman stood up and once again walked over towards the large screen along the far wall. He raised the remote and hit a few keys, and the pictures of Athrun and Bristow were replaced by an interactive map of the Earth Sphere. Areas of space under ZAFT control were highlighted in green, Earth Alliance space in red, Orb space in blue and contested space in yellow.

The majority of green was concentrated around L5, with swaths of territory stretching towards the halfway point between that Lagrange Point and the Moon, with a lesser amount towards L3. ZAFT control also extended to portions of the orbital Debris Belt that were easily accessed via L5. However, the extent of space that ZAFT had under its dominion had diminished in recent days… the past four days, to be precise.

Earth Alliance space was naturally focused on the Earth itself, but that was not their only strongpoint. The Moon and all her constructed habitats were also under Alliance control. This included not only Copernicus City and the massive Ptolemaeus Lunar Base but several other large military facilities such as factories, shipyards, arms depots, and communication outposts. The Earth Alliance also held a solid grip on L2, which had no less than thirty colonies, only a quarter of the habitats at L5 but nevertheless an impressive number. L2 was also the home of the largest Alliance shipyards, even more so than those they had on Luna.

Orb space was centered on L3. It had once shared that region with the Alliance, but with the destruction of the Artemis Base the Naturals had lost their strategic foothold in the area. Of course, Orb had taken a hit as well with the loss of the Heliopolis colony, but the supposedly neutral nation still retained control of its other two colonies, Eden and Elysium, along with several resource satellites. What forces they maintained there, Creuset did not know, but he was willing to bet that the Orb had gathered all military strength they had left, not counting the blue warship that had partaken in the raid on the PLANTs, at those two colonies. ZAFT scouts had reported large amounts of traffic heading from the Orb mainland to L3 during the Alliance's buildup to invade the island nation, and Creuset was sure that had been the result of contingency planning on the part of the late Lord Uzumi. The Field Marshal had theorized that the Lion of Orb was not only attempting to secure the survival of his country's legacy in its holdings in outer space after its traditional territory fell, but had also evacuated most if not all of his nation's considerable Coordinator minority to those two colonies as well.

A very interesting man, that Lion of Orb, mused Creuset, on the one hand, he was a shrewd politician, playing both sides for his own end… and yet, he truly did care for his people, Natural and Coordinator alike. A very rare figure these days… and one we're well rid of; it wouldn't do for him to continue interfering with my plan. He's caused enough trouble as it is…

The Field Marshal noted the scattered crimson dots around L3; Alliance patrols. They'd been monitoring the area since the fall of Orb, but their presence was diminished since the last time Creuset had checked. He had a feeling he knew why, but he would wait and let the Chairman do his little presentation first.

The rest of the space on the map was either black, for no or negligible presence of any faction, or yellow for active combat zones. The yellow had actually receded noticeably since the raid on the PLANTs… and was being overtaken by red.

The Earth Alliance had taken the initiative.

"Our enemy has grown emboldened," said Zala, scowling at the map, "and thanks to that damn raid I've had to adjust our posture in outer space… and cede territory. The First, Fourth, and Seventh Fleets are continuing to engage the Naturals at L1, but we've been forced to pull back on our other fronts. Elements of the Second and Third Fleets will continue patrolling what portions of the Debris Belt are within our reach, but their main bodies, along with the rest of our offensive space forces, have been or will soon be recalled to reinforce the Home Fleet. The Sixth, Eighth, and Ninth have already returned to L5, and I expect the Tenth and Eleventh will be arriving within the next few days."

"That will give the Earth Alliance fleets much more room to operate," said Creuset, "Should we not keep at least a few more task forces out on the front lines to disrupt their supply convoys?"

"No," said Zala firmly, "Until our new fleets are completely outfitted with ships, mobile suits, and soldiers, we have no choice but to strengthen the Exclusion Grid. The general public has been in a state of panic since the raid; we have to be seen taking steps to secure the homeland, or else the Clyne faction will gain more support. Besides, the sheer number of ships the Alliance is sending from the Victoria mass driver, combined with escort forces from the Moon, would mean that raider task forces would have a minimal effect."

Zala sighed. "Matters have only been made worse by the fall of the Lake Victoria spaceport on Earth last week. The Alliance has now regained access to space and have been sending shipments of arms, materials, and personnel to their space forces around the clock. Out threat projections show them encroaching on Gibraltar and Kaoshiung within weeks, and Carpentaria within two months at the most. I've ordered all our remaining surface forces to consolidate around those facilities and defend them at all cost, just as I did for Victoria."

"Will we be reinforcing their positions?" asked Creuset.

"Marginally," Zala replied, "All air and ground combat mobile suits and vehicles that have already been manufactured will be sent to those three facilities, but no more after that. I've already ordered our contractors to shift production completely over to extraterrestrial armaments. This war will be won or lost in outer space, Field Marshal."

Creuset nodded. "I see. Am I to take it then that our remaining surface commanders are under the same orders as those that fell at Lake Victoria?"

Zala nodded, his expression hard as stone. "Yes, Creuset. They are to hold their positions at any costs. No retreat is permitted; they will either stand their ground and survive or perish in the attempt."

Sacrifices on the altar of war, thought Creuset, his mind giving voice to what the Chairman was leaving unspoken, we are willing to order their deaths provided they take as many Natural soldiers with them as they can. We are not nearly as different from our foes as we claim to be.

Of course, Creuset had been aware of that for a long time now.

"I see, Chairman," said Creuset, "So, we are to buy time until the new fleets are completely online?"

"Yes," said Zala, a fire burning in his eyes, "and not just the fleets. Until that… project is complete, we will limit our offensive operations. We'll let the Natural's think they've got the upper hand, that we're vulnerable." The Chairman then gave a savage smile. "It will only make our revenge all the sweeter when the day of reckoning comes."

"I'm sure, Chairman," Creuset replied, "However, regarding those 'limited offensive operations', I do hope you'll see fit to include me in one or two at some point. If you keep me at home for too long, I'll lose my edge."

"Oh, don't worry, Field Marshal," said Zala, "I already have a field assignment in mind for you… though it may be some time before you can actually accomplish it. Days, weeks… it all depends on the intelligence gathering efforts."

"And what is this assignment?" asked Creuset.

"You will be given command of a task force," said Zala, "and will hunt down and destroy the Eternal. Her companion ships are a secondary priority; Lacus is clearly the leader of that band of renegades, and we already know she's made the Eternal her base of operations. Take down that vessel before you turn your attention to the legged ship and the Orb warship."

It was a telling sign of just how potent a threat Clyne's charismatic daughter posed that Zala was designating the Eternal, and by extension her, as the primary objective of the operation. Despite the Chairman's earlier dismissal of the impact the songstress could have on the population of the PLANTs, the man was clearly determined to eliminate her. Whether it was simply due to her leadership role in the group, the part she had played in the theft of the Freedom, or simply out of pure hate and spite for Siegel Clyne, Creuset could not say. He suspected that it was a combination of the three factors.

"Understood, Chairman," said Creuset, nodding, "I will hunt them down. However… should we not also include Wing Zero in the priority target category? Considering the damage it wrought on our defenses, not to mention the losses it has inflicted upon us since it made its debut…"

"Wing Zero has already been listed as a priority target for the entire ZAFT fleet," said Zala, "However, for the scope of this operation, the main purpose is to kill Lacus. Concentrate your efforts on her, Field Marshal. Once she is dead, then you can turn your full attention to Wing Zero."

"With all due respect, Chairman," said Creuset, "by that point my task force may have taken extensive casualties and would be in no position to destroy Wing Zero."

"A possibility I'm well aware of, Field Marshal," Zala replied, "Which is why you will have the discretion to choose whether or not to engage Wing Zero after Lacus is dead, or to withdraw once your primary objective is complete. In the event of the latter, you and the surviving members of the task force will return to the homeland. Your losses will be replenished, and you can embark on another mission, this time with Wing Zero as your primary target."

The fact that Zala's admitting the possibility that my losses may be too heavy to engage and destroy Wing Zero after destroying the Eternal, thought Creuset, means that my task force will not be a very large one. I'm guessing I'll be given a dozen ships at the most, and quite possibly less… barely enough to accomplish the primary objective, and certainly not enough for the secondary targets. He really is taking this new defensive stance seriously, conserving ships for the final battle…

Creuset nodded. "Very well, Chairman. However, hunting down Lacus and her allies will not be easy. I do not even know where to begin looking, and have been given no information from Military Intelligence regarding their last known trajectory."

"I know, Field Marshal," said Zala, "relevant data will be forwarded to you by Military Intelligence. You'll also be working with Field Marshal Raan's Patrol Fleet. Her scouts made a couple sightings of the Eternal and the other two vessels in the immediate aftermath of the battle. From the data she's gathered you can begin narrowing down possible locations Lacus could be hiding."

The Patrol Fleet was the body of the ZAFT space forces responsible for long range reconnaissance. Their duties included advanced scouting of enemy positions, orbital photographic surveillance of troop movements and facilities on Earth, monitoring the most outlying regions of ZAFT space, and occasionally search and rescue operations. The Patrol Fleet was relatively small in composition when compared to the full combat ZAFT forces; it numbered only a few dozen Laurasia-class frigates. Also, said frigates were modified versions of the ships used by the frontline forces and the Home Fleet, trading their bow mounted 125mm cannons for extremely sophisticated sensors, far more advanced and expensive than those found on the standard ships of the line. The ships also only carried three fully equipped mainline GINNs, trading the other three for the scout variants of ZAFTs standard combat mobile suit. While these differences weakened the ships in combat, it made them very well suited to their role in the Patrol Fleet. The combination of advanced sensors and long-range recon mobile suits meant that the Patrol Fleet could cover a vast area despite its small size.

Behind his mask, Creuset raised an eyebrow. "Begging your pardon, Chairman, but… did you say Field Marshal Raan? Last I heard, Shala Raan was still a Commander in the Patrol Fleet. What happened to Field Marshal Canaris?"

"In the day after the raid," said Zala, his voice tinged with cold fury, "Military Intelligence discovered bits of encrypted communications that Wilhelm Canaris had passed on to Eric Bristow. They were unable to completely decipher the data; much of it had already been sabotaged with a virus, a precaution on Canaris's part. However, what we did find indicated that Canaris had sent Bristow updated information regarding the Patrol Fleet's routes along the outskirts of PLANT space… information Bristow then passed on to Waltfeld to aid in their attack."

How did I not hear about this sooner?, thought Creuset, Another oversight on Zala's part, or is he playing things closer to the vest than I had previously believed?

The Field Marshal decided he'd avoid asking Zala why he hadn't been notified before now; it could serve to make the Chairman suspicious of him, if he wasn't already. "I see," he said, "I'm assuming Canaris was taken into custody and is being interrogated."

"That was the plan," said Zala, "but when Military Intelligence moved to arrest him, he bit into a cyanide capsule he'd implanted in his left molar. It seems he was truly committed to his treason."

"Dead men tell no tales," said Creuset, folding his arms.

"Indeed," growled Zala, "Canaris has taken his secrets to the grave. What intelligence we were able to salvage from his computer has been corrupted, and our cyber-warfare division chief has already told me that a complete reconstruction of the data is impossible. Still, I'm sure we'll glean some knowledge from what they're able to recover."

"Yes," said Creuset, "Regarding Canaris's replacement, are you sure about elevating Raan to that position? While I don't doubt her competence, word had it that she was Canaris's favorite Commander in the Patrol Fleet… his protégé, if you will. How do we know that she can be trusted?"

"Because she is a coward," Zala sneered, "Shala Raan would never throw herself into the political ring and risk her own neck. She keeps her personal ideals to herself. While she is not firmly in our camp, neither does she swear loyalty to the Clyne faction. I would prefer that Canaris's replacement be someone from our side, but Raan was the most skilled out of all the potential candidates to assume command of the Patrol Fleet. We need her abilities, and while she may not be a political ally of ours, neither is she a foe. She simply follows orders, and that is all we need. Better a fence sitter than a devout traitor. I'll have her rotated to an office posting once the conflict is over. Then we can put one of our own in charge of the Patrol Fleet."

"Understood, Chairman," said Creuset, "Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"Not at this time, Field Marshal," Zala replied, standing up, "You'll be working out of HQ for the next two days while your task force is assembled. Then you will return to the Vesalius. Whether or not you depart from L5 immediately or wait until Military Intelligence and the Patrol Fleet acquire enough information is up to you. I'm giving you free reign in this mission, Creuset."

"Thank you, Chairman," said Creuset, smiling.

"Just remember," said Zala, "your primary objective is to kill Lacus Clyne. I know Wing Zero is the greater threat militarily, but that bitch has the devious ability to inspire subversion and treason in the highest ranks of our government! It's already been shown that neither civilian nor military officials are immune to that witch's spell, and I have no doubt she used those charms to bring the legged ship and Wing Zero into her camp. It's because of her that the traitors were able to gather the force they needed to breach the Avalon Line. We need to stamp out her poisonous influence, and quickly. Once she is dead, then you can commit your forces to destroying Wing Zero. Remember, if you find it necessary you may retreat to the PLANTs should your task force take too many losses in the process of destroying the Eternal. I will personally see to it that your group is brought back up to full strength before you set out again."

"Very well, Chairman Zala," said Creuset, saluting.

Zala nodded. "Dismissed, Field Marshal."

And not a moment too soon, thought the Field Marshal. His left arm was beginning to tremble, and it would only be a matter of seconds before Zala noticed…

Creuset nodded before swiftly turning on his heels and heading for the door. His pace was quick but controlled, and to anyone else he may have just looked like a man on a mission… but that changed the second the office door closed behind him. The masked officer broke into a run the moment he was sure Zala could not see him, not caring about his receptionist or anyone else around. He sped out of the room, down the hall, and into the nearest bathroom. Not even bothering to look around and check for observers, the man quickly reached inside his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills. The tremors in his left arm had spread to his shoulder and were working their way to the right, and the Field Marshal knew he was in a race against time before he lost control altogether. Struggling to keep the shaking at bay, Creuset opened the bottle and threw a handful of pills into his mouth. He then turned on the sink and washed them down with water.

That was too close, he thought, leaning over the sink, his breath coming in labored gasps. The tremors were becoming even more frequent now, and they were getting worse. It was becoming harder for Creuset to anticipate a possible attack; the intervals were much closer together now, and at times they almost seemed random. That was why the masked officer had taken the cab to ZAFT HQ; his body was now much more prone to betraying him. After a moment he felt the tremors begin to subside.

Damn it, he thought as he regained control over his body, I hope that suppressant I asked the doctor for is ready before I return to the Vesalius. I cannot afford to have this happen during combat.

Finally looking up and glancing around, Creuset saw that he had caught a lucky break; there was no one else in the restroom at the moment. "Small favors…" he muttered to himself as he pocketed the bottle of pills before walking out of the bathroom. He then made his way towards his office, his mind already working to adapt the new assignment Zala had given him to his long term plans. The Chairman had actually done Creuset a favor in this regard; the masked officer had been looking for an excuse to get away from the homeland sometime in the near future, and Zala had given it to him on a silver platter. Whether or not the task force the Chairman would assign to him would be capable of actually completing the mission was another matter, but that was only a secondary concern to the Field Marshal.

The moment we pinpoint their exact location, he thought, I'll pass the good news along to Azrael. After all, he wants them dead just as much as the Chairman, and I'm sure he'll put together a battle group to go after them the second he has a lead. I doubt it will be a full fleet; the Earth Alliance is obviously building up its forces for the final act of this war, and they'll be loath to divert too many resources from said buildup, even to go after their renegade warship and Wing Zero. It doesn't really matter, though. When both our forces collide with the Clyne faction, the ensuing chaos will make it easy for me to enact the next step of my plan…

….

Looking out the window of the shuttle, Murrue saw the Eternal's hangar bay bustle with activity as the mechanic crews cleared away gear to make room for the craft to land. Beyond them she could see the Freedom, Aisha's GuAIZ, and one of the Wraiths lined up in their berths along the wall. Though she could not see it, she knew that on the other side of the shuttle the craft from the Kusanagi had already touched down.

"How's it look out there?" asked Heero from his seat beside hers.

Murrue turned to the young man and smiled. Her lover was no longer wearing his magnificent uniform and was now clad in his usual jeans and green tank-top along with his dark blue jacket, but to the beautiful Captain he was still as handsome as ever. He remained alert and focused, but at the same time the casual clothes gave him a more relaxed feel, though as Murrue reflected on that she realized that it had less to do with what he was wearing and more to do with just how much he'd opened up to her since they'd first met. In their early days his attire had been entirely casual save for his flight suit and the one time he'd worn the uniform during their first visit to Orb, but the young man had still given off a guarded and intense feel, though it had subsided noticeably when it was just the two of them. Now, though, Heero seemed much more at ease despite the fact that he and Murrue were not alone in the shuttle's cabin. Across the aisle from them were Eric and Shemei, preoccupied with the view out their own window. The former ZAFT Field Marshal still wore his custom blue and white uniform, but the Valkyrie had actually gone Heero's route with decidedly more casual attire, in her case jeans, a red shirt, and a black jacket. The shuttle ride over had been relatively quiet, but the Valkyrie and the Wolf of the Far East had still engaged Murrue and Heero in a bit of small talk, and the Gundam pilot had had little problem with engaging in the conversation despite retaining his calm, thoughtful, and withdrawn personality.

It's because of our relationship, Murrue thought, and not just our romantic one; even as we grew closer as friends he became more willing to engage others, to open up a bit. He's still only truly comfortable talking about personal matters with me, but he's shown greater willingness to respond to other people's attempts to converse as well, even initiating a couple talks himself. He's so much more at ease around people now, at least those involved in our group. Granted, Heero's still more than a little guarded with them, especially with regards to his past and Wing Zero, but that's ok. It's part of who he is, and I love him for it.

"No problems that I can see," she replied, "We should be touching down soon." Murrue glanced back at the mobile suits before turning to Heero again. "I can't help but admire ZAFT's technical expertise. The Freedom and the Wraiths are incredible improvements over what the Atlantic Federation's Project-G accomplished. The designs may still be based off of the stolen prototypes, but their own innovations are very impressive."

Heero nodded, looking past her out the window for a second before meeting her gaze again. "You're right about that. Even the GuAIZ is a formidable machine, despite lacking Phase Shift Armor and N-jammer Canceller technology."

"Technology's been the key to ZAFT's successes in this war," said Eric, causing Heero and Murrue to look across the aisle at him and Shemei, "not to mention our survival. If we hadn't pioneered the first combat mobile suits and the N-jammers, the Earth Alliance would've subjugated the Coordinators already… or wiped us out."

He looked down for a moment before facing them again, and Murrue was surprised to see a hint of guilt on his face. "I understood the necessity of mass deployment of the N-jammers, especially in light of the Bloody Valentine Tragedy, but I wish we'd limited their use to outer space. Operation Ouroboros may have saved us from nuclear annihilation, but seeding the entire Earth Sphere was overkill. The world relied on nuclear power for the bulk of its energy needs, and when we cut that power we sowed chaos on the planet. It may have helped us immeasurably militarily, but the toll it wreaked on the civilian population was devastating."

"Yeah," Shemei chimed in, her expression grim, "while the intentions may have been good, Operation Ouroboros indirectly killed more people than the Alliance did at Junius Seven. Exposure to the elements, starvation because crop-tending equipment failed, violent riots in the major cities…"

Murrue nodded, recalling well the devastation the Valkyrie and the Wolf of the Far East spoke of. The lovely Captain had gotten off lucky; she had been deployed in outer space since the beginning of the war, and as thus had not been forced to endure the tumultuous months on the surface as the world struggled to adapt to the shutdown of its primary power source. Even now, she knew that the problems had not been completely solved, though the nations on the surface had made great strides in mitigating the effects on the civilian population. Still, millions were estimated to have died in the immediate aftermath of Operation Ouroboros, with the exact number impossible to determine.

"It could be worse," said Heero, causing everyone to turn to him, "were it not for the N-jammers on Earth, the Alliance no doubt would've used nuclear weapons in the surface battles by now. The casualties in this war would be even higher than they are now. Using the N-jammers indiscriminately was still overkill, and the results led to many civilian deaths, but even that is preferable to having atomic weapons unleashed on the planet."

Eric nodded. "True… but we should never have gone to the surface at all. Simply securing outer space should've been enough. We would've protected our homeland and shown the Earth Alliance that nothing in their arsenal could reach us. Stalemate would've ensued for awhile, but eventually both sides would be forced to sue for peace. At least, that was what the former Chairman wanted, but…"

"Let me guess," said Murrue, "Patrick Zala decided that the conflict had to be taken to the Earth itself."

Shemei nodded. "Yes, Murrue. I suppose I can understand the reasoning; bring the war to the Alliance's home, rather than just engage them at their outposts in space, and it could convince them to capitulate. It does make sense… but it only served to escalate the fighting. Had we waged a defensive campaign instead... maybe things wouldn't be as bad as they are now."

"It doesn't matter," said Heero, "ZAFT's policies and campaigns in this war up until now were beyond your ability to influence. There's no sense in dwelling on them now. All we can do is fight to keep both sides from utterly destroying each other and taking the rest of humanity with them."

Murrue nodded and smiled. The statement was blunt and honest, just what she would expect from her boyfriend. She reached over and took his hand. "You're right, Heero. We can't change the past. All we can do is fight for the future."

Across the aisle, the Wolf and the Valkyrie smiled and nodded. "Well put, Heero," said Eric.

At that moment La Flaga's voice came from the shuttle's cockpit. "Alright guys, I'm setting us down." He then chuckled. "Please return your seats and tables to the upright position."

"We would," said Eric, smirking, "if these chairs reclined at all, or if we had tables to begin with."

Shemei laughed. "What kind of third-rate flight service are you running, La Flaga? We didn't even get peanuts!"

"Hey, I'm trying to stay under budget," La Flaga shot back, playing along, "Touchdown in five, people."

Murrue watched out the window as the shuttle made its final descent. When the craft hit the floor a couple seconds later she stood up, with the others following suit. The four of them made their way to the starboard exit, with La Flaga meeting them there.

"They'll be ready for us in a second," he said as he came down from the cockpit, "They're just venting the atmosphere back in."

Murrue nodded and looked out the window towards one of the hangar exits. Next to it was a pair of lights similar to the setup found on the Archangel, one green and one red. The red one was lit at the moment, and after a couple seconds she saw that one dim and the green one flare up. The door next to it opened, and Murrue saw several familiar faces come through it.

"Looks like our welcoming party is here," she said, "let's not keep them waiting."

Before she could open the door herself, Heero moved in front of her to do the deed. As the hatch opened Murrue saw the Gundam pilot scan the hangar, his right hand hovering over his pistol. She couldn't help but smile; Heero refused to let his guard down, even when coming aboard a friendly ship. He truly was determined to protect her from any possible threat.

As the group exited the shuttle the Eternal's welcoming party moved to meet them. Murrue saw Lacus and Kira in the lead, followed by Shemei's subordinates. As Murrue glanced off to the side she saw the Orb delegation leave their craft as well. That group was composed of Cagalli, Athrun, Kisaka, and Erica.

"Welcome aboard, all of you," said Lacus as the three parties converged. She smiled as she continued. "I hope everyone is doing well. How is your wound, Miss Rehema?"

"It's fine, Lacus," the Valkyrie replied, "but thanks."

"Commander!" cried Lan, pushing her way forward. The Chinese Coordinator was swiftly followed by Adaline and Priscilla, and all three surrounded their leader and took her into a group hug.

Shemei smiled and laughed as she spread her arms and returned the embrace. "It's good to see you girls again. However, I do think a little professionalism is called for here."

"Aw, no fun," said Adaline.

Lan and Pris protested as well, but the Valkyrie's subordinates heeded her words and pulled back. All three of them saluted their commander. "Welcome aboard, ma'am!" they said.

"Thanks," said Shemei, "at ease, ladies."

"Good to see you too, Captain Ramius, Heero," said Adaline. The other two girls nodded in greeting, and Murrue was pleasantly surprised to see that Lan did not try to initiate another round of flirting with Heero. The girl was friendly and respectful, but did not go further than that.

"Likewise," said Murrue.

"Yes," said Lacus, "I'm glad you could come, Captain Ramius, Heero, and Lieutenant Commander La Flaga. I hope you rested well, Heero."

"I did, thank you," said Heero, trading a quick glance with Murrue.

The beautiful Captain felt a slight flush of heat come to her face as she saw her boyfriend give her a very small smile.

I did let him rest, she thought, smiling slightly as well, eventually…

If Lacus noticed the silent exchange, she gave no sign of it. "Glad to hear it," she said before turning to the others. "Mr. Bristow, Cagalli, Athrun, Colonel Kisaka, Miss Simmons, thank you for coming."

"Of course," said Cagalli, smiling, "you didn't think we'd cancel on you, did you Lacus?"

The songstress smiled and gave a small laugh. "No, I did not, Cagalli. Please, let's get going; Mister Waltfeld and Miss Aisha are already in the conference room."

The group made their way out of the hangar and through the ship's hallways, making some small-talk as they went along. Murrue and Heero did not partake, content to simply take each other's hands and enjoy the company of one another and their friends.

Eventually they arrived at the conference room. As they came through the door Murrue saw Aisha and Waltfeld standing on the other side of the large table. They were close together, as was natural for lovers, but they were turned away from the door and appeared to be in a hushed conversation. At any rate, Murrue couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could tell from their body language that whatever they were discussing wasn't good news. Waltfeld looked particularly grim, and to Murrue it seemed as though a great invisible weight was on his shoulders. Aisha, for her part, was clearly playing a conciliatory role, with one hand on Waltfeld's shoulder and the other on his cheek. Whatever she was whispering to him was clearly meant to comfort him, but Murrue didn't know if it was having the desired effect.

The Desert Tiger and his lover turned to face the group as they entered the room. They both smiled in welcome, but Murrue could tell that the gestures were forced. She would not pry into the matter, and could only wait and see if the distressing news was brought up in the conference or left off the agenda.

Perhaps it's personal, she thought, I don't know if Waltfeld has any family in the PLANTs, but if he does then the radicals could've made a move against them. I pray that was not the case…

Waltfeld nodded. "Thanks for coming, everyone. We've got a lot to go over today. Our little stunt on the Avalon Line has led to quite a few interesting developments in ZAFT, along with the rest of the Earth Sphere. Even without the raid, though, events are coming to a head. It's been a busy week and a half since the fall of Orb."

"I bet," said Murrue, "We've heard nothing regarding activity on the surface since we fled the planet. Do you have news on what's going on down one Earth?"

"Among other things, Captain Ramius," said Waltfeld, taking a seat at the table. As everyone else followed suit he continued. "We'll come to events taking place on Earth in a little bit. We've already gotten word through Eric's contacts in the PLANTs regarding some of the effects the raid on Aprilius One has had on Zala's government. Things are… tense there, you could say."

"I imagine that's an understatement," said La Flaga, "ZAFT's mightiest defense battle-station destroyed, their Home Fleet humiliated, their capital colony breached… there must be quite the uproar going on there right now."

"Yes," said Eric, nodding, "our actions have dealt a serious blow to the credibility of Zala's regime. One of his biggest campaign promises was to ensure the security of the homeland and bring a swift end to the war. Not only does the war continue to rage on, but the very heart of Coordinator space was infiltrated by enemy forces. The political fallout from all this is far greater than the damage we inflicted militarily."

"Which is really saying something when you consider just how many casualties we inflicted on them," said Shemei.

"As impressive as the damage may have been," said Waltfeld, "the true heavy hit was psychological. The civilian population and the military alike are still reeling from the impact of the raid, along with all the implications in it."

"What do you mean?" asked Kira.

"Think about it, Kira," said Eric, "ZAFT, under Zala's direction, has been decisively and publicly humiliated by our much smaller force. Granted, we have perhaps the most powerful warships and mobile suits in the Earth Sphere on our side, not to mention the best pilots, but that does not change the fact that we are grossly outnumbered and outgunned by ZAFT and the Earth Alliance. We took on one of the two superpowers on their home turf and won. Now the public is questioning not only the competence of their armed forces, but of the people leading them. Zala enjoyed massive public support up until now; our raid went a long way in turning public opinion against him."

"Exactly," said Waltfeld, "according to a recent transmission we received from one of Eric's contacts, there's already a strong push for an inquiry into the raid and how ZAFT responded to it. While the radicals still hold the majority within the government, the moderates still have enough people in positions of power that they can make very vocal protests against Zala and his supporters. They don't have the numbers to actually affect change within the government at this time, but they can help get the ball rolling against the current regime by calling out Zala and his followers on such a major blunder on their part."

"We've already begun moving to capitalize on the confusion we've sown in the radicals ranks," Lacus chimed in, smiling, "Mister Waltfeld, Mister Bristow, if I may?"

Both men nodded. "Go ahead, Lacus," said Waltfeld.

Lacus turned to the rest of the table. "During our journey from L5 to the Mendel colony, my film crew and I composed a video, and through Bristow's network we were able to get it circulated through the PLANTs this morning."

Murrue raised an eyebrow at the announcement. She wasn't sure how a video would help their current situation, but she figured that Lacus had acted with some sort of plan in mind.

"In that video," she continued, "I explained the true purpose behind our raid on Aprilius One; to rescue Commander Rehema's parents. The fact that Soran and Akila Rehema had been taken prisoner despite having committed no crimes of their own was not public knowledge, and I felt it was something we could use against Zala's regime."

"I'm sure that was a shocking revelation to the people of the PLANTs," said Murrue, "but given the fact that you're a fugitive from the government, getting people to believe you would be a tall order. I do not doubt your charisma and sincerity, Miss Clyne, but Patrick Zala's had plenty of time to spin all sorts of vile propaganda about you in the PLANTs since your departure. Your reputation in the eyes of the people is almost certainly smeared by now. At the very least, you've been branded a traitor, and I imagine the regime has gone further than that, probably painting you as a petty young woman out for revenge against the man that dethroned her father."

"Captain!" said Kira, clearly offended by Murrue's words regarding the songstress, "How can you…"

The young man was calmed by Lacus putting her hand on his arm and shaking her head. "No, Kira; Captain Ramius is right. I have no doubt that Zala's gone to great lengths to destroy my credibility amongst my people." She then smiled, a mischievous light glinting in her cerulean eyes. "Fortunately, I took that into account when I made the video. Thanks in large part to information forwarded to us via Mister Bristow's network of contacts within the regime, I was able to present proof to back up my claims."

"What kind of proof?" asked Heero.

Lacus turned to the Gundam pilot. "Why, you, Heero."

That caught Murrue off guard. "What do you mean by that, Miss Clyne?" she asked.

Lacus turned and nodded at Eric before looking at Murrue again. "One of Mister Bristow's sources was part of the staff of Charon Prison. They managed to obtain a copy of the security footage from Soran and Akila Rehema's cell. More specifically, footage of Heero's extraction of them. The recording was both visual and audio, for which I am quite thankful for; Heero's words to Commander Rehema's parents were quite inspiring, and their combination with the powerful imagery no doubt increased its impact on the people viewing it."

Murrue's eyes widened at the news, and she was not the only one; several other people around the table reacted with surprise. Glancing to her right, Murrue saw that Heero was not among them. He simply sat there, as calm and collected as ever, his eyes on Lacus as she made her revelation.

An alarm instantly went off in Murrue's mind, and she was swift to voice her concern. "Miss Clyne, do you mean to tell me that now everyone in the PLANTs knows Heero's identity?"

"His name had already circulated in both civilian and military circles long before we made our raid, Captain Ramius," said Waltfeld.

"That's not what I meant," said Murrue, "They had his name and that of his mobile suit, yes, but they didn't know what he looked like!"

"Well," said Eric, shrugging, "now they do."

How can he be so casual about it?, she thought, a sense of outrage building inside her.

"Miss Clyne," said Murrue, her voice rising, "why would you do that? You exposed Heero to everyone in the PLANTs!"

"Murrue," said Heero, putting his hand on her arm, "It's alright."

"Heero…" said Murrue, looking between him and the members of the Eternal's delegation, "how can you be ok with this?"

"Because," he continued, "it doesn't matter if the people of the PLANTs know what I look like. The regime itself already had access to that security footage before Lacus aired it for all to see, and it was necessary for her to do so in order to provide some evidence to back up her story. This way it's at least out there before Zala can distort it and make up false information. Just because they know my face doesn't tell them about where I'm really from, why I fight, or anything else important. Besides, the Earth Alliance already knows my face, and we're fighting against them too; does it really matter if ZAFT joins the club now?"

Murrue sighed. "No, I suppose not, but still…"

"Murrue," said Heero, giving her a small smile, "I appreciate your concern about this, but I'm alright with having my image out there. It just means I'd have to work harder at disguising myself were I to go to the PLANTs again, which I certainly don't intend on doing while this war is on. I definitely have no intention of going inside the capital again, at least not without Wing Zero. Besides, remember what we talked about before launching the raid? Part of the reason Waltfeld wanted me to wear my uniform was because the security cameras in the Rehemas' cell would capture my image, and it would be leaked to the rank and file ZAFT forces. That would serve as another psychological weapon in our arsenal. It's true that I didn't expect Lacus to do a bold, public broadcast of my image to the general population of the PLANTs, but now that it's out there we might as well take advantage of it."

Murrue nodded and returned her boyfriend's smile. "Ok, Heero… and I suppose I did forget about that bit we talked about before the attack. If you don't have a problem with this... then I can deal with it." She then turned to Lacus. "I apologize for my outburst; I know your intent was not to put anyone at risk. That being said, I wish you had at least consulted with Heero before using him in a video like this, Miss Clyne. Doing so without his consent…"

The songstress nodded. "I know, Captain Ramius, and I apologize for my actions. I felt that this was too important, too big of an opportunity to pass up, but I do understand why it has upset you." She bowed her head. "Forgive me."

It's hard to really get mad at her, Murrue thought, she's always so sincere, so honest…

In the end, Murrue gave the girl a reassuring smile. "If Heero's alright with it, then it's ok, Miss Clyne. Just try to give us a heads up in the future before you do something like this, please?"

"Of course, Captain Ramius, Heero," she replied.

Across the table, Murrue heard Lan sigh. "Well, I guess we better come clean too."

Murrue's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I think I know," said Eric, smirking, "but I'll let her fess up. It should be interesting?"

"Eric," said Shemei, "are you keeping secrets from me?"

"I was going to tell you," he said, "if Lan and the girls didn't tell you first."

"Tell her what?" asked Murrue, "What's going on?"

Lan looked at Adaline and Priscilla for a moment before turning back to Murrue. "Well, you see… we managed to get a copy of the footage from the duel."

Murrue saw Shemei shake her head, a smirk appearing on her face. "Oh, Lan, don't tell me…"

"Fine, I will," said Adaline, "we posted the film online."

"Technically, I was the one that did it," said Priscilla sheepishly, "I used the Eternal's advanced communication system in order to gain net access. I just fired it off in a bust transmission, and I made sure to cover my tracks; it'll be pretty damn hard for anyone to trace the source of the upload."

"We did it last night," said Lan, "it was a couple hours after the duel."

"I just found out about it this morning," said Eric, "when my contact sent me that transmission, they reported that Miss Clyne's broadcast was not the only video making its way through the homeland." He turned to his girlfriend and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Shemei. I just figured I'd wait until the conference."

"Oh, it's fine," she replied, smiling, "you don't need to apologize for something like that." She then turned to her subordinates. "You three, on the other hand… I've got no problem with it, but given Murrue's reaction to what Lacus did I'm pretty sure she might."

The three girls nodded before turning to Murrue and Heero. Their expressions were genuinely apologetic, and Murrue decided she wouldn't give them a hard time over it. Glancing at Heero, she saw him give her a small nod, and she knew that he was fine with what they had done.

"Don't worry about it, you three," she said, giving them a small smile, "It's true that I'm not exactly thrilled about having another video of Heero circulating for our enemies to see… but what's done is done. You did no more damage than Miss Clyne did with her own broadcast."

"Thank you, Captain Ramius," said Priscilla, bowing her head. Adaline and Lan followed suit.

Heero surprised everyone by chiming in. "Could you bring me a copy of it once the meeting is over?"

The Valkyrie's subordinates' eyes widened at the question, and they weren't the only ones taken aback by the Gundam pilot's words. Murrue raised an eyebrow quizzically, wondering just what her boyfriend wanted with the footage.

"Uhm, sure," said Priscilla, "no problem, Heero. If you don't mind my asking, though… why?"

"It's rare that I get a third person perspective of myself in a fight," he said, "I want to analyze my performance, see what I can improve on."

"Uhm, correct me if I'm wrong here," said Cagalli, "but you won, Heero. I don't think you really need to worry about improving anything."

Heero shook his head. "The duel may have settled the rivalry between Shemei and I, but there are always aspects of their fighting style that a person can improve on. I'm no different in that regard. The moment I think I am is when I become complacent, and on the battlefield a complacent soldier quickly becomes a dead one."

"Heero's right," said Shemei, nodding, "In fact, send me a copy as well, Pris. I'd like the chance to do a little self-critique as well."

"Ok," said Priscilla, smiling, "I'll give copies to both of you after the meeting."

"Thanks," said Heero.

Murrue couldn't help but smile. Heero's reasoning reflected something very important regarding his character, one of the traits about him that she so adored; his humility. He may have been the best pilot and soldier she had ever seen, perhaps the best that any world had ever seen, but he didn't let it go to his head. He had a very good grasp of his capabilities, and he refused to let himself grow arrogant with regards to them. Heero may have had a tendency to throw himself against odds that most would view as impossible, but he didn't do it out of blind overconfidence. He did it out of a very realistic trust in his own abilities… and, when he had it, the support of his friends and allies.

Once he fought alone, without that support, Murrue thought, but now that he's with us, that's no longer the case, and he's all the stronger for it.

"Well," said Eric, clearing his throat, "I'm sure you'll both gain valuable insight from that footage. In the meanwhile, both videos are already having a considerable impact in the PLANTs."

"How so?" asked Murrue.

"For starters," said Waltfeld, "Lacus not only showed the PLANTs Heero's rescue of Shemei's parents. Included in the footage were images of other Naturals that have been taken prisoner by the regime."

"Showing those images revealed just how extensive Zala's persecution of Naturals living within the PLANTs has become," said Lacus, "His campaign to round them all up may have been conducted under the strictest secrecy, but it would be impossible for the regime to really hide the disappearances of so many people. Their friends, families, neighbors, and coworkers would notice that they had vanished, and would wonder why. Now we've shown them what has become of those people, what the regime has done to them."

"It's not going to incite full scale rebellion against the radicals," said Aisha, "even with that revelation, Zala and his cronies have a solid hold on power in the homeland. However, when you combine it with the shock and outrage directed at ZAFT, and by extension the government, for failing to protect the PLANTs from the raid, and it gives the internal opposition some serious ammo to work with. They can use it to recruit more people and begin turning the tide of public opinion against the regime. It will take time for the effects to truly become acute and potent enough to actually pose a serious threat to the radicals, but it's a start."

"Indeed," Kisaka chimed in, "I can see how Miss Clyne's broadcast may benefit our cause in the long run; it's a powerful public relations weapon. However, I fail to see how having the video of Heero and Commander Rehema's due go viral does anything for us."

"Yeah," said Athrun, "I mean, it's impressive and all, but in the end it's just a single duel, an end to a rivalry. What effect does circulating it for the rest of the Earth Sphere to see have?"

The Valkyrie's subordinates looked down at the table. "Well," said Lan, speaking for the group, "we didn't really think that far ahead. We just wanted others to see the fight."

Shemei smirked. "That's so like you girls."

Eric nodded and smiled. "Indeed. However, though it may not have crossed your minds at the time, circulating the footage of that fight on the Internet actually does help us when it comes to the hearts and minds of the people."

Murrue was intrigued. "What do you mean, Bristow?"

"Well, Captain Ramius," he replied, "for starters, the duel itself is practically the antithesis to this conflict as a whole. This war has been driven by the anger and hate of powerful people on both sides, and it has begun infecting the rank and file soldiers, though to what extent I cannot say for certain. What I can say is that this was has become less about ideals such as protecting ones homeland and more about completely destroying the enemy, both with regards to their armed forces and their civilian population. Both sides utterly loath each other, cannot stand the very notion of the other's existence. They see each other as animals and abominations, not human beings. Heero and Shemei's rivalry was the polar opposite of that."

Murrue nodded, images of that spectacular fight flashing through her mind. "You're right. There wasn't a speck of that hatred the Earth Alliance and ZAFT have embraced anywhere in that duel… nor has there been since Heero and Shemei first fought in North Africa." She looked between her boyfriend and the Valkyrie. "Neither of you ever held any real sense of animosity for each other."

Both pilots nodded, and Shemei gave Murrue a small smile. "Never, Murrue. Even in that first battle, I didn't feel any bit of anger or hate regarding Heero. Of course, a good soldier should try to avoid those emotions with regards to all their enemies; those strong, negative emotions can affect your judgment otherwise, and that can easily get you killed. Still, I could immediately tell that Heero was in a league far above the rest, and I respected him immensely for it… all the more so after he spared me and the girls, letting us go after he'd only damaged our mobile suits."

"Had our situations been reversed," said Heero, "If the Archangel and I were withdrawing, or had we surrendered, you would've let us. It didn't take much for me to figure out that you had a real code of conduct, and could admire your enemy. Those qualities are rare in soldiers nowadays and all the more so in this war. As it was, I respected the courage and skill you and your subordinates displayed in our fight, and I wasn't about to cut you down after I had already defeated you."

"Something the four of us are quite grateful for," Adaline chimed in.

"Yup," said Pris.

"Yeah," said Lan, "thanks, Heero. Been meaning to say that for awhile, actually."

"I think we all have," said Shemei, smiling at the Perfect Soldier, "and while I know that you don't want us to feel like we owe you any favors… well, we do, Heero, and big time. Hell, we've been in your debt since that first fight."

Heero shook his head, but didn't say anything. Murrue figured he wasn't even going to try to dissuade the Valkyrie from her stance.

She really is as stubborn as he is, she mused, she won't budge from that belief… and Heero knows it.

Waltfeld chose that moment to speak up. "It's precisely that kind of mutual respect the two of you have for each other that made your duel so special… and what will give it weight for those who watch it in the days to come. People will see a Natural and a Coordinator going at it in friendly competition, driven by the desire to see who is better and to settle a score, not to kill each other. Sure, the fight was more dangerous than other competitive activities might be, but it still has that quality of a friendly rivalry rather than a murderous hatred."

"There's more to it than that," Lacus chimed in, "I may not have been in favor of the fight… but its outcome plays in our favor. The fact that a Natural was able to beat a Coordinator in personal combat is one giant slap in the face to one of the radical faction's biggest ideological pillars; that Coordinators are superior to Naturals in every way."

"It's only a singular case, Miss Clyne," said La Flaga, "Heero's a very exceptional individual; few others could even come close to repeating that feat."

"True," said Aisha, "but it doesn't matter. People will recognize what you just pointed out, La Flaga, but Miss Clyne's point still stands. That, combined with the nature of the fight, will have an impact on the people of the PLANTs. It shows that Coordinators and Naturals are really not all that different from each other… and that we do not have to hate each other."

"In a way," said Eric, "strange as it may sound, the duel between Heero and Shemei can be an example to others that Naturals and Coordinators can coexist together, in peace and friendship. The clash was not a fight to the death, though given the fact that they were using real sabers that outcome was definitely a possibility. People will recognize that, despite the dangerous nature of the fight, there was no real hostility between the two combatants. More importantly, once the fight was concluded not only did they put their swords away, but there were no hard feelings held against each other."

"Well," said Shemei, smiling, "considering how hard I pressed for that fight, I think it would be very immature of me to hold a grudge against Heero for winning. He beat me in a fair fight, one where we could both go all out… and in the end, that's what I wanted."

"Though I'm sure you would've preferred to win," said Adaline, smirking.

The Valkyrie laughed. "Of course, Adaline… but like I told Heero before the fight, win or lose, I knew that I would have no regrets. That remains true. We got to settle things between us, and that's enough for me."

"Yes," said Eric, "and it's something the audience will notice, or at least the more open minded members of the audience will. Like Miss Clyne's video, it may not incite an uprising by itself, but it can help plant the seeds of doubt in the hearts and minds of the people. It can help convince them that we don't have to destroy each other."

Murrue nodded. "Those seeds will take time to grow, but when they finally bloom… we may truly have the key to end this war. It won't be easy; we'll have to do all we can to nurture that growth, and to protect it from the fires of hate. We have to remind the people that those whom their government claims to be their enemy are not beasts and monsters, but human beings much like them. However, when the people are finally fed up with their regimes, when they gain the courage and the strength to stand up to the extremists that hold the reins of power… perhaps then we can achieve peace."

Under the table she felt a very familiar hand grab hers. Glancing to her left, she saw Heero give her a small nod and smile, and she returned the gestures. She could see admiration and pride that the Gundam pilot held for her in his eyes, and she treasured them both.

Turning back to the rest of the table, Murrue saw Lacus nod and smile. "Well said, Captain Ramius."

Waltfeld nodded, but unlike Lacus his expression was grim. "Indeed. Unfortunately, we have our work cut out for us if we want to get to that point. The raid on the PLANTs, combined with Lacus's broadcast and the circulation of the duel footage, has given us a significant psychological and symbolic victory over the radical faction. They were humiliated militarily, and with the true reasons behind the raid laid bare for the public to see, their intentions regarding the end they wish this war to have regarding the Naturals are now much harder for the people to look away from. We've managed to not only gain a very formidable pilot for our cause, but have helped sow confusion and paranoia within the ranks of ZAFT and the regime, and discontent and outrage within the citizenry. However, the destruction of Avalon, the losses taken by the Home Fleet, and the very public embarrassment of the armed forces in general have all had consequences beyond those of our mission objectives. Both ZAFT and the Earth Alliance are already reacting to our moves and laying the groundwork for their next campaigns."

The Desert Tiger turned towards his fellow ex-Field Marshal and nodded. Taking the cue, the Wolf of the Far East drew a black flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into a port next to the keyboard at his part of the table. Eric hit a few buttons, and Murrue watched as the table's holographic projector sprang to life. A map of the Earth Sphere came into being over everyone's heads, with all the Lagrange Points clearly labeled. Murrue's eyes narrowed as scores of small dots appeared all over the map. The majority were colored in green and red, with a few bits of blue at L3… and one more at L4.

They're ships, she thought, or rather, they represent groups of ships. I mean, there are three vessels at L4 – ours – and only one dot there, so that one dot is obviously a representation of our trio. That, of course, implies that the other dots represent formations. Task forces, patrols, the whole array.

Murrue continued to watch as Eric hit a few more keys, and the dots on the map began to move. There was a dramatic withdrawal of green from much of the map, with many of the dots coalescing around L5… which was already bathed in specks of the same color. At the same time, the amount of red dots on the map had increased considerably, and they had become more spread out as well.

"This," said Eric, "is the latest intelligence I've received from my contacts regarding the fleet movements of both sides in outer space. The timestamp for this data is a little over three days after our raid."

"In other words," said Cagalli, "right about the time we arrived here at L4."

"Correct, Cagalli," said Waltfeld, "This data has been supplemented by estimates Eric and I made in order to account for movement that occurred since the duel yesterday. It's not perfect, but this is a decent approximation of both sides' current posture in outer space."

"ZAFT and the Alliance move quickly," said Kisaka.

Eric nodded. "Yes. Perhaps the most striking has been Zala's reaction to the raid. Most of our offensive fleets have been withdrawn to L5, with the major exceptions being the First, Fourth, and Seventh Fleets that are still engaging the Earth Alliance forces at L1, along with the portions of the Second and Third near the Debris Belt. All other major battle groups have returned to L5, or will arrive there within the next few days."

"Why such a dramatic pullback?" asked Erica, "I can understand withdrawing some forces in light of the destruction of the Avalon battle-station and several of its accompanying warships, not to mention all those mobile suits, but this seems a bit much."

"Knee-jerk reaction, maybe?" La Flaga mused aloud, "Our raid caught them completely off guard; maybe they're not thinking clearly now, letting fear and paranoia dictate their moves."

"Partially," said Eric, "While I have no doubt that our raid was the catalyst for this pullback by ZAFT, the scale at which it's being done is disproportionate to the losses we inflicted on the Avalon Line. Also, due to the massive increase in arms production taking place at the PLANTs' factories and shipyards, ZAFT has or will have shortly more than enough ships and mobile suits to cover the gaps in their defenses. Zala's not a fool; he'd know that he would not have to make such a major pullback in order to secure the homeland, especially with those new forces coming online."

"Not a fool, maybe," said Aisha, "but he is more prone to impulsiveness when things don't go his way. I don't think we should discount La Flaga's idea of a 'knee-jerk reaction', as he called it."

"Miss Aisha's right," said Athrun, "My father's probably desperate to shore up his popular support in the aftermath of the raid, not to mention furious that we were able to pull off such a stunt in the first place. He can be cold and calculating, but when he's angry he's much more prone to rash decisions. A massive and public reinforcing of the homeland's defenses would accomplish his goals of securing the homeland and sending a message of strength and security to the masses."

"Perhaps," said Murrue, "but by doing this he's giving the Alliance much more operating room in outer space, and I do not think he'd be blind to that."

"Yeah," said Heero, his eyes narrowing as he studied the holographic display, "this move wasn't made out of panic or simply the desire to calm and reassure the public. It's too big, and too organized. It may have been initially motivated by our raid, but there's more to it."

"What makes you say that, Heero?" asked Kira.

The Perfect Soldier shrugged. "My instincts. I've got nothing concrete to back it up with; it's just a feeling."

That's more than enough for me, Murrue thought, I learned long ago to trust Heero's feelings. Besides, I feel it too. Our actions may have precipitated this response from ZAFT, but its impact on both the tactical and strategic situation in this war are far too big for the regime to be ignorant of. Blind fear isn't behind this move; there's method to the madness.

"For what it's worth, Heero," said Waltfeld, nodding at the young man, "that's a feeling I share."

"As do I," said Eric, "and I have a theory as to why Zala's moving into such a hardened, defensive stance."

"What is it, Eric?" asked Shemei.

"He's playing for time," the Wolf replied, "I think he's got something big in the works, something so important that he's willing to allow the Alliance almost free reign in outer space while he prepares it… something he thinks will let him win this war once and for all when it's ready."

"Considering his endgame," said Murrue grimly, "that's a very dark and troubling theory, Bristow."

"No kidding," said Cagalli, shuddering, "not something I'd like to think about…"

"Agreed," said Lacus, "but it is something we must think about." She turned to her late father's former mole on the Defense Council. "Mister Bristow, you said this was merely a theory, but I cannot believe you would make one like this without some evidence to back it up."

"I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to call it 'evidence', Miss Clyne," Eric sighed, "all I've got right now is circumstantial bits of information and some foreboding rumors. It's nothing solid."

"That's still better than nothing," said Lacus, "Please, elaborate on this, Mister Bristow. I'm sure I am not alone in wanting to know what has led you to this theory of yours."

The former ZAFT Field Marshal nodded. "Over the past few months, Zala has been moving around a tremendous amount resources. Funds, personnel, raw materials, heavy machinery, and everything in between."

"That could be anything," said Erica, "you said it yourself that Zala has massively increased arms production over roughly that same time period; this could be a part of that."

"Yes," the Wolf replied, "and normally I would agree with you, Miss Simmons. However, the resource allocation required for a conventional force buildup is something that I could normally track when I was on the Defense Council. This is different, though."

"How?" asked Shemei.

"In the week leading up to the raid," said Eric, "when I wasn't sending Waltfeld information for the attack, I spent a lot of time tracking ZAFT appropriations… or rather, trying to. I found hints of movement, but almost the second I got on the trail it suddenly disappeared behind a wall of Alpha-Level security protocols."

"What is that?" asked Murrue.

"Right," said Eric, "as you're former Alliance, you wouldn't know ZAFT levels of classification. I forgot about that, sorry."

"It's alright," said Murrue, "Just explain what it is."

"Alpha-Level," said Eric, "Is the highest possible security classification tier in the military and the government. Only two individuals have access to it at any one time, and can issue temporary clearance to officers of their choosing."

"Those individuals with permanent access," said Lacus, "are the head of the Defense Council, and the Supreme Council Chairman."

"Which means that now the only person with permanent clearance is Patrick Zala," said Heero, "he does head both bodies right now, correct?"

Waltfeld nodded. "Normally that would be completely unacceptable, but the radicals' supermajority on the Supreme Council gives Zala a blank check to do whatever he wants. He wields absolute power over both the civilian government and the armed forces, something that the division between the Defense and Supreme Council was originally designed to prevent."

"It did a bang up job of that," Lan muttered, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

"Our system of checks and balances was not designed to take into consideration what would happen if a party got a supermajority in the government," said Priscilla, "Hell, it wasn't even designed with political parties in mind."

"It should've been," said Adaline, frowning, "and now we're all paying for the lack of foresight."

"Things were different back then," said Waltfeld, "When the PLANT government was being established, our people's primary concern was creating a homeland where we could live in peace and security. There were differences of opinion in how to go about that, of course, but the political animosity was not nearly as fierce as it is today. Overall we were united in purpose back then, looking forward to the bright future that we would build in outer space for the Coordinators. I don't think the founders ever considered that someone like Zala could form a political movement based on such extremist ideology and then use it to seize power and turn our resources towards waging a war of annihilation."

"Well," said La Flaga, "no sense in worrying about that now. That's something you guys can fix up when the war is over."

"Hopefully, yes," said Lacus, nodding, "but we have a long ways to go until that day comes."

"And in the meanwhile," said Bristow grimly, "we've got something nasty brewing in the shadows, courtesy of Zala."

"Hang on," said Cagalli, "If all this activity is so highly classified, how were you able to learn of any of it?"

"The purpose of all that movement of resources may have been beyond my security clearance when I was on the Defense Council, Lady Cagalli," said Bristow, "but it's simply impossible to completely hide activity on that scale. That much materials and personnel can't just disappear from official records without drawing attention, and even the most thorough information blackout leaves breadcrumbs, though in this case they were very hard to find. I only picked up a few prior to the raid… but what I did manage to learn made me very uncomfortable."

"What was it, dear?" asked Shemei, putting her hand on Eric's shoulder.

The former Field Marshal paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. "For starters, when I was examining some of the personnel transfers Zala had made, I came across a bit of information that stood out to me. Mainly, the fact that the files regarding the scientists involved in creating both the N-Jammers and N-Jammer Cancellers were suddenly sealed; I couldn't get any intelligence on their current activities."

"I asked Eric to try and monitor them after we got wind of the efforts to create nuclear powered mobile suits," said Waltfeld, "He'd been having one of his contacts in ZAFT's research divisions keep tabs on them."

Eric nodded. "Apparently, they dropped off the grid shortly after completing the initial series of prototypes. Their files were sealed around that time, but I was tied up with other matters then; I didn't notice the information blackout on them until a couple weeks ago. Also, several of our most prominent nuclear scientists were also transferred to a new ZAFT project a little while ago… a project with Alpha-Level security protocols."

"Hold on," said Kira, "The PLANTs still have active nuclear scientists? I thought anyone in that field would've been out of a job after the Junius Seven attack and the public declaration that the PLANTs would abandon nuclear power."

"How do you think ZAFT came up with countermeasures to nuclear power, Kira?" asked Aisha, "Of course the PLANTs kept their nuclear scientists on their payroll; they were as critical as the other specialists that worked on the N-Jammer program. They also aided in countering their own countermeasure with the N-Jammer Canceller project. While they may no longer be serving in their primary role of improving the nuclear energy that used to be the lifeblood of outer space, all that scientific talent was too valuable for ZAFT to let go to waste."

"Exactly," said Waltfeld, "they may no longer be publishing papers or working publicly in their chosen field, but behind the scenes they have been quite busy."

"Now more so than ever," said Eric, "They were instrumental in designing the reactors used in the nuclear powered mobile suits, and as I mentioned before they were vital aides to the N-Jammer Canceller program. Now they're working on another project, one with much higher classification than even the prototype mobile suits had… and a much bigger budget."

"Could they be making a shift into mass-production of nuclear powered mobile suits?" asked Erica.

Eric shook his head. "I had considered that, Miss Simmons, and I would normally say that it was a possibility, but not in this case."

"Why is that?" asked Murrue.

"In addition to the sudden transfer of many of ZAFT's top scientists," said Eric, "other individuals have suddenly become engaged in classified operations as well. Engineers, construction managers, and entire firms worth of workers. You wouldn't need this kind of movement of people just to retool production lines for nuclear powered mobile suits. Also, the kinds of resources Zala's allocating to this project include some very heavy machinery."

"Last I checked, heavy machinery was used in mobile suit production," said La Flaga.

"Not this type of machinery," said Waltfeld, shaking his head, "this is the sort of equipment involved in the construction of space colonies, not mobile suits."

"And the personnel shift follows that same path," said Eric, "That also goes for the kinds of raw materials Zala's gathering, along with the quantity of them. Whatever the radicals have in the works, it's incredibly large in scale. Combine that with the sudden disappearance of the specialists that worked on the N-Jammer and N-Jammer Canceller projects, along with the rest of the PLANTs' top nuclear scientists, and… well, I highly doubt they're engaging in new model colony construction."

"They're building a weapon," said Heero, his tone certain and grim, "and they're going to target Earth."

The entire table went silent, and Murrue tightened the grip she had on Heero's hand. She watched as the others traded looks ranging from somber acknowledgment to shock and horror… but none of incredulity or skepticism. After everything that had happened in the war up to this point, no one doubted that mundicide was within the scope of Zala's blood soaked ambitions. Murrue knew that Heero's statement was one made only based on circumstantial evidence provided by Eric, but it was clear that the Gundam pilot had put the pieces together in his head, and was set in his own conclusion.

His feelings have spoken, she thought, looking at her boyfriend, and he has more reason than anyone else at this table to come to such a conclusion. Unlike the rest of us, Heero's seen firsthand the extreme lengths some people will go to in order to win a war. There were plenty of people in his war willing to enact global catastrophe in order to further their own ambitions. The original plan for Operation Meteor, and White Fang's attempt to recreate it with the battleship Libra in the final campaign of the Eve Wars… for Heero, attempts to commit mass devastation on Earth, let alone wipe out all life on the planet, are not just wild and fantastic speculations; they're actual military strategies that he has fought against!

The silence was eventually broken by Lacus. "Mister Bristow, do you have any more information that you can give us regarding this weapon?"

Eric sighed and shook his head. "Very little, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, Miss Clyne, but it was a miracle my contacts and I were able to dig up as much intelligence as we did on this project of Zala's. I'd like to say it was purely due to skill on our parts, but the fact remains that we were also quite lucky. The sheer amount of resources the radical's are pouring into it meant that it was impossible for them to completely hide that they were moving people and material, but exact information on the specifics of this weapon are beyond the reach of my network."

The Wolf of the Far East closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened again Murrue could see the shadow of guilt within them. "This information came at a price, Miss Clyne. In the aftermath of the raid, the radicals initiated a major sweep through ZAFT and the PLANTs for anyone working against them. Several of my contacts were among those taken by the regime. Whether they are dead or alive, I can't say for sure… though in the end I highly doubt the radicals will let them live once they're through interrogating them. I still have people within the military and civilian government that I can get information from, but the unfortunate truth of the matter is that we took a severe hit in this latest purge. It may not have been as bad as when we lost your father, Miss Clyne… but that does not change the fact that several good men and women paid dearly for our recent gains. For those that survived the sweep, their positions are now all the more precarious. They're still more than willing to work for us, but none of them are in a position to get us new intelligence on the weapon Zala's building… and I don't dare try and push them into a role where they could. The risks for them are too high; I won't add to them. Enough good people have already died because of me."

"Eric…" said Shemei softly, putting her hand on her boyfriend's shoulder.

Waltfeld shook his head. "You really haven't changed, buddy… you still beat yourself up something fierce when you lose people."

"If I don't then I'm no better than the officers who swear fealty to the radical faction's ideals," Eric replied, looking down at the table, "They may have known the risks going into this, and they may not have been officially under my command… but that does not change the fact that people have, or soon will when the radicals are done interrogating them, died working for me. I may have gotten out of the PLANTs unscathed during the raid, but many of those who stayed behind were not so lucky. It's my fault…"

"No, it's not!" said Shemei, raising her voice. As her boyfriend's eyes widened in surprise she continued. "This was Zala's fault, Eric, not yours! He's the one that's taking our people down the path of bloodshed, the one that forced us to turn against our government to fight for what's right. He and the radicals are the ones that are responsible for turning our homeland into a military dictatorship. You're trying to stop them from committing the worst act of mass murder in human history, and everyone who volunteered to help you knew that!"

"She's right, my friend," said Waltfeld, nodding, "like you said, they all knew the risks, what could happen to them if they were discovered, but they signed on anyway. They're just like the rest of us; they had the courage to make a stand, to fight in their own way against evil. I know you feel responsible for what's happened to them, but piling all this guilt on your shoulders isn't going to do them any good. It's certainly not helping you."

Eric sighed. "Perhaps… but that doesn't change the fact that I ran and left them holding the bag."

"Bullshit!" yelled Shemei, slamming her hand on the table. The sudden outburst took everyone off guard, and Murrue was struck by the fire burning in the Valkyrie's silver eyes.

"Eric," said Shemei, her tone a bit calmer but still very much impassioned, "I know you feel responsible for putting your contacts in harm's way by having them spy for you, but you were in the most dangerous position of all. You were on the fucking Defense Council, for crying out loud! You attended meetings with Zala practically every day as his deputy chief of staff! You told me yourself how precarious your position was, how hard you had to work to keep your cover. There was no way you could've kept that sort of thing up forever, not with the information you were sending Waltfeld and the others. We all knew that, and you did too. You had to get out, Eric!"

"If you had stayed, Mister Bristow," said Lacus softly, "I have no doubt that you would be dead by now. What would that accomplish? I know that you are committed to our cause, and I am grateful for that, but I do not want you to die for it. None of us do, least of all Commander Rehema."

"Yes!" said Shemei, gripping Eric tightly on his shoulder again, "Eric, having my parents held hostage was bad enough, but if I lost you… I can't even bear to think about it!"

Murrue nodded and looked to her left. She knew all too well what Shemei was going through, what she felt. It was why she had been so distressed by the duel the day before, along with the raid on the PLANTs… and every other battle the young man sitting beside her had fought.

If I lost you, Heero…

She couldn't help but shudder; she could not bear to finish the thought.

Murrue felt Heero squeeze her hand again under the table. As she met his gaze, she knew that he had caught her silent distress, along with her empathy for his former rival. Murrue once again marveled at the calm but powerful strength and determination in her boyfriend's eyes, and took comfort in it. The unspoken message in them was perfectly clear. His will to survive, to be with her, was powerful beyond measure. He refused to fall and leave her alone.

Murrue gave him a very small smile, and whispered two words. "Thank you."

The Gundam pilot nodded, a silent acknowledgement of her gratitude.

Murrue then turned back towards the rest of the table. "Bristow," she said, "I know how it feels to lose subordinates, as I'm sure several of the others sitting here do as well. It isn't easy, nor should it be. The fact that the losses suffered by your contacts affects you so shows that you've held onto your humanity, which is far more than many other officers in this war can say. I realize that you feel responsible for their deaths, but you cannot continue to carry that guilt around with you. The load will only grow heavier as you keep blaming yourself, and you will suffer all the more for it. That is something I'm sure those you lost would not want. I am certain the woman you love does not want it."

"Damn right I don't," said Shemei, "Eric, I know that you feel like you abandoned those people when you left the PLANTs, but it's not like that at all. We all knew that your cover could not last much longer. You were simply moving from one theater of this war to another, from intrigue and espionage back to the front lines." She then gave him a soft smile. "Eric, you didn't run away, and you didn't leave your people 'holding the bag', as you called it. You warned those that decided to aid you of the potential consequences if they were discovered, and you gave them access to the safe house network in case of emergency. It's tragic that some of them were discovered, that they weren't able to conceal themselves in time, but you did what you could to give them a fighting chance at survival."

Shemei leaned over and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "Besides, it's not like you ran away from danger, dear. You moved from covert resistance against Zala into open rebellion… and you helped save my parents in the process. Now you're here, with us, and while we may be removed from the battlefields for the moment, I doubt we'll stay hidden here forever. We'll figure out a way to stop both Zala and Blue Cosmos from completely wiping out Naturals and Coordinators, but we need you at full strength if we're going to do that, and that won't happen if you keep beating yourself up like this."

She raised her hand to his face, gently touching his cheek. "Please, stop this, my love. For your sake, for the rest of us… for me. What happened to those who were taken by the regime is awful, but that is on the radicals' heads, not yours. We have to keep fighting so we can bring justice to those who've fallen in the name of peace. Please, Eric…"

A brief silence fell over the table. Murrue found herself touched by the Valkyrie's heartfelt plea to her lover. Shemei was desperate to do all she could to ease the burden on Eric's shoulders, to sooth the pain in his heart. It reminded Murrue of how she felt whenever she saw Heero mercilessly berating himself for his mistakes, when he labeled himself a monster when he was anything but one.

After a moment Murrue saw Eric give Shemei a small nod and a smile. "Alright… my love."

He then turned to Waltfeld and Lacus. "Sorry… I really should have a better grip on my feelings than this."

Waltfeld shook his head. "It's ok, buddy. After all you've done for us, you have the right to air things out a bit. I know you feel responsible for what happened to those people, and it's a credit to your sense of human decency that you do so, but you can't let it weigh you down like this. You want to make things right, then help us remove Zala from power and end this war. I think the souls of the departed will rest easy then."

Lacus nodded and gave Eric a gentle and understanding smile. "We're more than just allies here, Mister Bristow; we're all friends. I know that normally soldiers are required to keep their emotions hidden from others, but we are hardly a regular army here. It's alright for you to let your feelings out here, and I know that you are more than capable of keeping control of them when the situation is dire. There's no shame or weakness in sharing your perceived guilt with the rest of us. All we want is for you to find the strength to move forward, to make sure that those who have sacrificed for our cause did not do so in vain, and we will do all we can to help you."

Eric nodded at the two of them and then looked around the table. "Thank you… all of you."

Shemei smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Anytime, dear."

Murrue smiled as well. "You are most welcome, Bristow."

Waltfeld cleared his throat. "So, at the moment there's little we can do about this weapon the radicals have in the works, and with the casualties suffered by Bristow's network of contacts gathering additional intelligence on it will be extremely difficult to do. We don't even know its exact location, though I think L5 is a safe bet."

Eric nodded. "Zala would want something like this in the most secure space imaginable, and L5 is the heart of our territory. That narrows things down considerably, though each Lagrange Point still represents a very large amount of space. Even with the vast sprawl that is the PLANTs, there are plenty of places where the radicals could build such a massive weapon and keep it defended without risk of detection. I'll ask my surviving contacts to keep their eyes and ears open, and to look out for any large transfers of material and personnel that may be connected to Zala's project, but other than that there is little we can do on that front but wait and see."

Cagalli sighed. "Great, something I'm bad at."

Erica gave an amused shake of her head while Kisaka admonished his ward. "Patience, Lady Cagalli. That is something our people would expect from their leader, and a quality your father and I have tried to instill in you."

"I know," she replied, giving a weak smile, "that doesn't I'm any good with that yet. Besides, playing wait-and-see while ZAFT builds a super weapon doesn't exactly sit well with me."

"A sentiment the rest of us share, Lady Cagalli," said Aisha, nodding, "unfortunately, we do not have much of a choice in the matter."

"Whatever my father's working on," said Athrun grimly, "I just hope we can stop it before he takes aim at Earth."

"Yeah," said La Flaga, "and hell, Earth probably isn't the only place on his target list. The Luna bases and Copernicus City, the L2 colonies… plenty of areas in outer space inhabited by Naturals for the bastard to take a shot at." He looked over at Athrun. "Sorry, kid, but I call them as I see them."

Athrun shook his head. "It's alright… my father's earned that insult, and many more beside."

"He's not the only one," said Eric, "ZAFT isn't the only faction that's been busy over the past four days. The Earth Alliance is on the move too… and has been since the fall of Orb."

"I imagine they've greatly expanded their operations in outer space, given ZAFT's pullback," said Murrue, "However, since they still lack a mass driver they can't move materials and personnel from the surface, so that does put somewhat of a damper on their activity."

Eric shook his head. "I'm sorry, Captain Ramius, but that is no longer the case. The situation on Earth has changed since the Archangel and the Kusanagi came to outer space, and the developments do not bode well for the future."

"What's happened?" asked Murrue, unable to keep the trepidation from her voice.

The Wolf of the Far East turned to his fellow former Field Marshal and nodded. Taking the cue, Waltfeld tapped a few buttons on the keypad at his part of the table, and the holographic strategic map of the Earth Sphere was replaced by a focused look at the planet itself. The red that symbolized Alliance territory had grown considerably... especially in Africa.

Oh, no, Murrue thought, a chill running through her. She recalled what she had witnessed as she had entered the conference room; Waltfeld's hushed conversation with Aisha. Murrue had a feeling she was about to learn the cause behind it.

Indeed, the Desert Tiger's expression was now somber, and Murrue could see the concern on Aisha's face. Whatever had happened in Africa had doubtlessly involved the survivors of Waltfeld's former command, and Murrue had a sinking feeling that it had not gone well for them.

"Mere hours after the fall of Orb," said Waltfeld, "the Earth Alliance launched an invasion of North Africa. The Atlantic Federation forces struck from the British Isles and landed in the former Morocco. At the same time, part of their North Atlantic fleet made a strike against ZAFT's Gibraltar base. ZAFT managed to hang onto the facility, but the purpose of that attack was never to take it, merely to keep their forces from disrupting the Morocco landings. At the same time, troopships passed through the Strait of Gibraltar while the base's forces were occupied and dumped additional troops and heavy arms in the former Algeria. While all this was happening, Eurasian Federation reserve divisions invaded through the Caucasus on the ground, and their Air Force made a massive paratrooper drop operation in Egypt. The ZAFT forces were hit in a pincer attack and forced to fall back south towards Victoria."

"Oh, shit," said Shemei softly, looking at Waltfeld with worry, "The North Africa Corps…"

Waltfeld nodded. "Yes… my old command was hard hit by the initial invasion. After its battles with the Archangel and the Desert Dawn, it was reinforced by troops from the homeland… but that wasn't enough to stem the tide. The Earth Alliance struck with its typical overwhelming numbers, but this time they also had mobile suits in the fray. Over the next two days the fighting continued southwards… and culminated at the Lake Victoria spaceport."

Africa's mass driver, thought Murrue, dreading what was coming next, The Alliance is desperate to regain access to outer space, and they would go to any lengths to reclaim one of their old spaceports. Combine that with their vicious hatred of Coordinators and the brutality they've shown them on the battlefield in recent weeks…

"In the final battle," Waltfeld continued, "ZAFT attempted to blow the mass driver, but an Alliance commando unit managed to stop the demolition. As a result, the Alliance now has an intact mass driver and unfettered access to outer space."

"What about the North Africa Corps?" asked Murrue. She feared she already knew the answer, but it was a question she had to ask. "How many of them managed to escape the battle? Surely there must have been at least some that were allowed to evacuate via the mass driver."

Waltfeld looked down for a moment, and when he brought his gaze back up Murrue could see a haunted look in his eye. "They weren't allowed to evacuate, Captain Ramius. According to Bristow, Zala's orders for them were to hold their position at all costs. Retreat by any soldier was deemed punishable by death… and we all know how the Alliance forces would've treated an offer of surrender."

"Oh, no…" said Murrue, putting her hand to her mouth. Under the table, she could feel Heero give the other one a tight squeeze.

The Desert Tiger nodded grimly. "The North Africa Corps was utterly destroyed. My old command is gone, completely obliterated in a pointless last stand."

"Waltfeld," said Murrue softly, "I… I'm so sorry."

The apology sounded incredibly weak to her. How could any words from her suffice when tens of thousands of good men and women that had been under Waltfeld's command only months ago were now dead at the hands of her former government? Despite having already abandoned the Earth Alliance well before the slaughter, Murrue could not help but feel a sense of guilt and shame for the atrocity her nation had committed.

For his part, Waltfeld simply nodded again. "Thank you, Captain Ramius."

A solemn silence fell over the table for a moment, an impromptu memorial for the ZAFT soldiers that had fallen at Victoria. Bowing her head, Murrue felt sorrow and anger warring within her. The former of course was for those that had been so mercilessly killed, while the latter was for the army and government that had carried out the action.

The Atlantic Federation High Command has much to answer for, thought Murrue, as does ZAFT. I can only hope we can eventually bring both parties to justice for the crimes they have committed. A trial is too good for those monsters. The only thing they deserve is the grave… and if the Archangel can speed them on their way, so much the better.

It was a private musing that she did not feel comfortable voicing in present company, particularly around people such as Kira and Lacus. Murrue knew that, despite the atrocities committed by the rulers and high military officers on both sides, Kira, Lacus, and some of the others at the table would still prefer to try and bring the perpetrators to trial and face lawful punishment. However, under these circumstances, with the two dominant superpowers in the grips of such bloodthirsty men, Murrue did not believe that such a trial would be possible. Even if more rational and moral people managed to reclaim power in the PLANTs and the Earth Alliance, Murrue did not have faith in the power of the courts to adequately try such criminals for their deeds… and as long as they were alive, they would try to find a way to carry out their murderous agendas, or convince others to do so in their stead.

Murrue looked at Kira, Lacus, Cagalli, and Athrun. Those four teenagers were perhaps the most idealistic of the people gathered at the conference, not to mention that the last of the four was the son of the PLANTs' current leader. While Murrue suspected that they were aware of the chance that the only way true peace could be restored was for the extremists leading both sides to be killed, she was sure they were still willing to try and take them alive. If ordered by Lacus and Waltfeld, Murrue knew that she would be bound to aid any efforts to do so, and she would do her part if asked… but she had a feeling the military head of the Three Ship's Alliance was already decided on what course of action he would take regarding the likes of Zala and Azrael. The Desert Tiger would put them to the sword, and Murrue was very much in agreement with the sentiment.

Glancing to her left, Murrue suspected that Heero shared her thoughts on the matter. While the same age as Kira, Lacus, Cagalli, and Athrun, Heero was far more willing to embrace pragmatism over idealism. The young man still held beliefs and morals that were dear to him, but he also knew where to draw the line between ideology and foolhardiness. There was a difference between compassion for the enemy, mercy for a defeated foe, and letting devils in human form get away with spilling rivers of blood, and it was one Heero was well aware of. For the crimes the leaders of the Alliance and ZAFT had committed, Murrue knew that Heero would be perfectly willing to forgo any pretense of lawful procedure and send the ruthless monsters straight to the Reaper.

He's not the only one, either, Murrue thought, looking around the table, In addition to Waltfeld and I, there's Aisha and Eric, Shemei and her subordinates, Colonel Kisaka, Miss Simmons, La Flaga… plenty of people willing to do what needs to be done, niceties be damned. It may not be a matter we need debate today… but sometime in the future it is one that will have to be considered. I'm not in favor of 'an eye for an eye', so to speak… but no amount of prison time could ever be enough for people like Azrael and Zala. Even if they were immortal and left to rot until the ending of the world, it wouldn't come close to the punishment they deserve. No, the only thing to do with those bastards is to rid the Earth Sphere of them for good.

It wasn't about her anger, though the leaders of both sides had more than earned Murrue's wrath in light of what they had done and what they were planning to do, but about true justice. It was about making sure that all the soldiers and civilians that had been murdered by power hungry and xenophobic bastards could rest easy knowing that those who still held onto their humanity had made sure that those responsible for ordering their deaths just to further their hatred had paid for it in the most definitive way possible. It was about purging the Earth Sphere of the scourge that had dragged it into a war that could potentially wipe out all its inhabitants.

To Murrue, it was about doing what was right, even the way she defined 'right' in this case didn't exactly fit in with the more lofty ideals embraced by some of her friends and allies.

Meanwhile, Eric had taken over for Waltfeld. "Victoria has fallen, and it will not be the last spaceport to do so. The Earth Alliance has already laid siege to Gibraltar, and I imagine Carpentaria and Kaoshiung will follow eventually. It will take time, but sooner or later all three will fall, and the Alliance will once again have complete dominion over the Earth. As things stand right now, they're already putting the Victoria mass driver to use. They're shipping fresh troops and supplies into outer space, along with their new model mobile suits. The last item is so far only in the hands of Atlantic Federation forces, but given that the party that now rules Eurasia shares the ideology of Blue Cosmos I would imagine that Azrael will share the technical specifications for the machines with them soon enough, if he hasn't already. Even without access to mobile suits, Moscow is throwing all its resources into the Earth Alliance's pot, and while their military may have taken significant hits throughout this war the nation still has an incredible wealth of raw materials. Those will be crucial to the massive buildup the Atlantic Federation is undertaking both on Earth and in outer space, especially at the production facilities on the Moon and at L2."

"So," said Cagalli, "it looks like both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT are already preparing for a huge confrontation… perhaps the final one of this war."

Waltfeld nodded. "Indeed, Lady Cagalli. It will take time, and I imagine there will be plenty of smaller engagements before the once-and-for-all throw down… but it's on the horizon, and there's no way we can remain blind to that."

"So what do we do?" asked Kira, "We can't let the Alliance and ZAFT engage in such a clash. The casualties would be horrendous!"

"Yes," said Lacus, "it would be a bloodbath, and that's not even including this monster weapon Zala is building in the shadows. We must find a way to bring both sides to their senses and avoid this massive battle!"

"I hate to be a downer here," said La Flaga, folding his arms, "but that may not be possible. I mean yeah, we've got a lot going for us here, but in the end we're just three ships and a handful of mobile suits. If the two superpowers want to go at it in the mother of all battles, I'm not sure there's much we can do to stop that fight from taking place."

Murrue nodded. "I'm sorry, Miss Clyne, but La Flaga's right. If the Alliance and ZAFT wish to throw their forces against each other in an all-out fight to the finish, we do not have the strength to stop them."

"Maybe we shouldn't," said Heero.

The entire table turned to look at the Gundam pilot, and Murrue could see that, though his gaze was on the image of the Earth floating above the table, his mind was elsewhere, deep in thought. Murrue was taken aback by her boyfriend's words, but her mind soon flashed back to what Heero had told her about his last war… more specifically, how it had ended.

I wonder, she thought as she looked at her young lover, your past experience… has that given you insight into our current situation? The battle orchestrated by Treize and Zechs, and its end result… do you see the possibility for something similar here? What do you have in mind, my love?

Some of the others clearly had forgone Murrue's curious contemplation and were still trying to process what Heero had just said. Kira, Lacus, Athrun, and Cagalli shared looks of complete shock. Heero's statement had caught them completely off balance.

Orb's tomboy princess was the first to recover enough to form a response. "What the hell is wrong with you, Heero? There's no way we can let such a fight take place!"

"Yeah," said Athrun, "both sides are already out to annihilate each other, and depending on where they fight countless civilians could be caught in the middle!"

"How could you even say such a thing?" cried Kira, staring wide-eyed at his friend, "Heero, I thought you wanted to help us bring an end to our war without both sides destroying each other!"

"Yes," said Lacus, "Heero, how can you really suggest letting the Alliance and ZAFT engage in such a destructive battle?"

"Calm down, you guys," said Waltfeld, his expression one of intrigue rather than horror, "let's hear him out."

Eric nodded, smiling slightly. "This should be interesting."

Shemei smirked. "That's an understatement, dear. So, Heero, what's going through that head of yours?"

"As Murrue and La Flaga pointed out," said Heero, "if the two superpowers are determined to meet in a massive, final confrontation, there is not much we can do to prevent that from happening. We're a powerful group in our own right, but there's only so much we can do to influence how the Earth Alliance and ZAFT act in the wider conflict."

Kisaka nodded. "All too true, Heero."

"Indeed," said Eric, "our strike on Avalon managed to shake things up, but a feat like that is not something we can repeat. Stunts like Operation Knight Lance are impressive and have a major psychological impact, but that alone is not enough to bring this war to the kind of end we seek."

"Exactly," said Heero, "a group like ours excels at fast, hard strikes. We can do a lot of damage in a short amount of time and then withdraw before the enemy brings overwhelming force to bear on us. With the power of our warships and mobile suits, we can also hold our own in a prolonged engagement if need be, though avoiding those would be preferable. That being said, the final clash between the Alliance and ZAFT will no doubt be titanic in scale, and probably a drawn out fight. We can't prevent them from preparing their forces for such a clash; they control far too much territory and resources for us to mount anything more than tactical raids against their fleets and facilities. We can disrupt the buildup if we so choose, but we can't stop it."

"But we must stop it," said Lacus, desperation in her face, "we cannot let the Alliance and ZAFT wipe each other out!"

"Correction," said Heero, "we can't let Naturals and Coordinators wipe each other out. Their militaries, on the other hand…"

"What are you saying, Heero?" asked Cagalli, "That we just let both sides go at it and stay completely out of the fight?"

Heero shook his head. "If we do that, then whoever wins will press on with their campaign of genocide. First they'll slaughter any survivors from the opposing force, and then they'll move onto the general population, which will be all but undefended after their military has suffered such massive losses. We can't let that happen, and I refuse to stand by and allow it to happen."

The Gundam pilot looked around the table. "We can't stop the Alliance and ZAFT from initiating battles against each other, and that goes for their final fight as well… but we can influence the outcome."

Murrue smiled as she began to comprehend what her boyfriend was getting at. "I understand, Heero. You want us to intervene in the battle and prevent both sides from completely destroying each other. At the same time, though, you also want to use the battle to severely weaken both sides… enough, perhaps, for the moderates in both camps to seize the opportunity to remove the extremists from power and make peace."

Heero nodded and gave her a small smile. "Exactly, Murrue. Most of the military might in the Earth Sphere will be thrown into the final confrontation, of that I have no doubt. No matter what part we play in the battle, the casualties on both sides will be horrendous. There's no way around that. However, the damage sustained to the militaries of both sides, the true expressions of power for Azrael and Zala respectively, will be crippling to their agendas. More than that… such a brutal battle may do more to convince the people of the Earth Sphere, Natural and Coordinator alike, that mankind can no longer afford to fight like this. It could rob both sides of their very will to do battle."

"Just like your old war…" said Lacus, her eyes widening as she came to the same realization Murrue had.

"Could that really work?" asked Shemei, turning to Eric.

The Wolf of the Far East closes his eyes for a moment before speaking. "It's… possible. As we talked about before, our actions during and after the raid on the PLANTs have helped sow the seeds of discontent among the people against Zala's regime. If it were weakened enough in a military confrontation, if it lost enough public support, then Councilor Canaver and her followers within Aprilius One could use the opportunity to remove the radicals in key positions of power."

"That would move ZAFT towards peace," said Adaline, "but what about the Earth Alliance? We don't have anyone on the inside of their government to give us a hint of their balance of power."

"She's right," said Priscilla, "While I'm sure the majority of Naturals don't want a war of extermination, their government may be so thoroughly controlled by Blue Cosmos and people sympathetic to it that there is no meaningful and organized opposition movement."

"Yeah," said Lan, looking over at Murrue and her companions, "Captain Ramius and the others from the Archangel are really all we know of in terms of a moderate opposition to Azrael and the Atlantic Federation High Command."

"True enough," said Murrue, a thought occurring to her, "but we may not have to worry about that."

"What do you mean, Captain Ramius?" asked Waltfeld.

"During the Battle of Orb," said Murrue, "we learned that not only was the Alliance fleet lead by a member of the Atlantic Federation High Command, but that Azrael himself had come out with the invasion force."

"That's right," said La Flaga, "Heero killed Vice-Admiral Vickers during the battle, but he didn't get Azrael's carrier."

"A pity, that," said Erica, "it would've saved us a lot of trouble. He missed a golden opportunity. Had his rampage been a little more precise that day, he could've cut the head off Blue Cosmos."

"That's not Heero's fault!" said Murrue, more than a little offended at Morgenroete's Chief Engineer's words, "When Heero hit the fleet on the first day of fighting none of us knew that Azrael was in the mix. We only came by that information on the second day, just before our evacuation. By then it was too late for Heero to go out and attack Azrael's ship!"

Erica nodded. "Yes, you're right there, Captain Ramius. I'm sorry if I upset you." She turned to Heero, her expression one of remorse. "I shouldn't have brought up your rampage, Heero. I should've known that'd be a sensitive issue, and Murrue is correct in that you didn't know that Azrael was with the armada."

Heero shook his head. "It's alright. Don't worry about it."

Under the table, Murrue felt the Gundam pilot squeeze her hand, and as she turned to him she saw him give her a small nod. Murrue smiled, knowing what he wanted of her.

"It's ok, Miss Simmons," she said, "You're right in that what happened to Heero that day is a sensitive issue for me… but I still shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm sorry."

The engineer smiled in return. "It's fine, Captain Ramius. You certainly had the right to get upset, all things considered."

"I'm confused," Lan chimed in, "Why would Heero go on a rampage? The guy's the coolest customer I've ever seen."

"Yeah," said Priscilla, "I can't exactly imagine him losing control in a fight."

"What happened?" asked Adaline.

Murrue glanced briefly at Heero, who shook his head. Turning back to the girls, Murrue made the same gesture. "I'm sorry, ladies, but that's a story for another time."

"She's right," said Waltfeld, "We have more pressing matters to attend to. Captain Ramius, why bring up Azrael's attendance at the Battle of Orb? What bearing does that have on the inevitable final clash between the Alliance and ZAFT?"

Murrue took a breath, knowing that she would have to tread delicately here. What she was about to say had the potential to be divisive if she didn't handle it right… especially since it essentially boiled down to assassination.

And when I told myself mere minutes ago that this wasn't something we should debate today, she mused, Well, I'll just have to be careful with how I word it. I would rather avoid it today, but the conversation has already veered in that direction thanks to both Heero and me. Here goes nothing…

"Think about it," said Murrue, "Azrael was present at the battle despite the risk it posed to himself. Granted, he probably didn't consider that bit beforehand; given the overwhelming power of the Combined Pacific Fleet, I doubt he felt himself to be in any real danger prior to the engagement. If he was willing to show up at the invasion of Orb, do you really think he'd miss out a much larger clash with ZAFT, one that could determine the outcome of the war?"

Murrue saw the proverbial light bulb flick on in the Desert Tiger's head. "No, he wouldn't. He'd definitely show up himself, especially if it meant he could personally be there to finally enact the extermination of our people."

"No kidding," said Eric, "Azrael would be frothing at the mouth for the chance to decisively defeat ZAFT and then kill every last Coordinator. He wouldn't be able to resist attending that kind of fight, regardless of any risk it may pose to him."

"I imagine the same would go for Patrick Zala as well," said Lacus thoughtfully, "The man is arrogant and vengeful. He would not pass up the chance to personally oversee the destruction of the Alliance military and pave the way for the annihilation of the Naturals."

"Indeed," said Kisaka, "those two men are far more alike than they would ever dare to admit."

Murrue nodded. "Yes, and we can use that against them. If both Azrael and Zala are present at the final battle, then we can use that as an opportunity to remove them from power."

The phrase 'remove them from power' was a diplomatic substitute for what Murrue really wanted to say. She wondered if anyone at the table had caught her subtext.

Glancing to her left, she saw Heero look at her and nod, a knowing gleam in his eyes. Her boyfriend, at least, had discerned the true direction her message was going, and he was in agreement.

Looking around the table, Murrue saw mixed reactions in the rest of those gathered. Some, like Kira, Cagalli, and Athrun, simply traded looks, and Murrue suspected that they had not read into the potential double meaning of her words. Others, like Waltfeld, Eric, and some of their companions, had come to different conclusions, the ones Murrue had expected people like them to reach; that the presence of Azrael and Zala at such a confrontation would be a ripe opportunity to kill them and pave the way for peace.

Eventually Murrue's gaze came to Lacus. The songstress had closed her eyes for a moment, clearly in thought. When she eventually opened them she met Murrue's gaze… and gave a small nod. A dark and grim look was in her eyes, one that Murrue had not expected to see. It was a stark contrast to her usual bright optimism and sincerity.

"Yes," said Lacus, her tone one of caution, "Depending on the circumstances of the battle, we may have a chance to get to Azrael or Zala, or quite possibly both. At this point, of course, it's only hypothetical. However, removing them from the stage may well be the key to resolving this conflict. Other extremists on both sides would still exist, but Azrael and Zala are the linchpins of their respective organizations. They are both charismatic and ruthless, traits that they have used to make themselves the indispensible hearts of their parties. If they were no longer in power, those organizations could collapse into chaos, and that would give moderate figures the chance to take over both their governments and military. A negotiated peace could then be reached."

The songstress looked around the table, and while the gesture seemed all encompassing Murrue could feel her gaze linger on four people; Waltfeld, Eric, Heero, and herself. "Under other circumstances," she began, "I would prefer to take them both alive and have them put on trial for their crimes. If they were to surrender at any point, we would be obligated to accept it. However… the battlefield is by its very nature a dangerous place, and both men are fanatics; surrender is not in their character. Capturing Azrael and Zala may not be possible… and they would be knowingly putting their lives at risk by being present at such a confrontation. It would simply be impossible to guarantee their safe capture… or their survival, for that matter."

Murrue had to resist the urge to smile at this unforeseen but pleasant turn of events. Lacus had not just admitted to the possibility that Azrael and Zala may be killed. By having her gaze pause ever so briefly on Waltfeld, Eric, Heero, and Murrue, the songstress had implied that the four of them could deal with such a scenario with their own discretion.

In other words, Lacus had given them permission to kill Azrael and Zala.

I underestimated her, though Murrue, looking at Lacus with newfound respect, I knew she was intelligent, but this… she's downright devious. She's certainly much more pragmatic than I had initially thought…

Then the songstress smiled. "Of course, all this is rather far off at the moment. While it is important to prepare for such an eventuality, for right now I believe we need to decide on our more immediate course of action. Mister Waltfeld, Mister Bristow?"

Both officers nodded, and the Desert Tiger was the first to speak. "Well, our most urgent concern is to establish ourselves a supply line. While I know that all three ships are well stocked with provisions, spare parts, and munitions, we can't count on those to last us forever. We need a source of materials and a means to access them… and the raid on the PLANTs may have given us an opportunity in that regard?"

"How so?" asked La Flaga.

Waltfeld turned to Eric and nodded. The Wolf of the Far East proceeded to touch a few buttons on his keypad, and the hologram above the table once again shifted. The image zoomed out away from the Earth, once again forming a complete map of the Earth Sphere. Then the hologram zoomed in on L3. Murrue saw two blue cylindrical shapes appear, and she realized that they were the same types of colonies as Heliopolis was. Several asteroids also materialized, along with two debris fields; the remains of Heliopolis and the Eurasian Federation's Artemis base. Along the perimeter of the Lagrange Point were several red specks; Alliance patrols.

"Ever since the Battle of Orb," said Eric, "the Alliance has been watching L3. A blockade was brought up shortly after the fighting ended. I believe they thought that the Archangel and the Kusanagi would make for either the Eden or Elysium colonies, and they had hoped to intercept you."

"They were mistaken," said Cagalli, "we never intended to go to L3. We didn't want to give the Alliance an excuse to attack the colonies."

"They would have found one without you," said Eric, "Orb did evacuate much of its Coordinator minority to Eden and Elysium. That alone would've been enough to get Blue Cosmos drooling. However, even with the presence of Coordinators, L3's been off the grand strategic picture since the attack on Heliopolis and the destruction of Artemis. Had you gone straight there from Orb, I have no doubt the Alliance would've attacked by now, but their attention has been elsewhere. They've been content over the past week and a half to simply keep an eye on the region… and their watch has grown lax of late."

A few pieces assembled themselves in Murrue's mind. "The Alliance has withdrawn some of their ships because of the destruction of Avalon, haven't they? They've sent some of those vessels to eye the PLANT Exclusion Grid, perhaps probing for an opening."

Eric nodded and smiled. "Very astute, Captain Ramius. Yes, the Alliance patrol presence has lightened considerably at L3, and the damage done to the Avalon Line is the cause of it. If Azrael is looking for a weakness in the PLANT Exclusion Grid though, he will be disappointed. Zala has already heavily reinforced the Defense Lines, as we already discussed. Even without a battle-station to anchor it, the Avalon Line will be a very tough nut to crack, all the more so since the Alliance lacks machines with the power and sophistication of units like Wing Zero and the stolen ZAFT prototypes. Any Alliance attack would be costly, and Zala would redeploy all his forces to repel it. I believe Atlantic Federation High Command is aware of this, though I imagine they still can't resist at least probing the defenses."

"In any event," said Kisaka, "you're saying that the Alliance has lowered its guard when it comes to L3… and that we can use that."

"Correct, Colonel," said Eric, "The patrols that remain at L3 are stretched far too thin now. A few ships could slip through undetected."

"Are you saying we should go to L3?" asked Kira.

Waltfeld answered the question. "No, Kira. I'd like to avoid bringing any unnecessary heat down on the heads of the Orb colonies. They've got enough to worry about without us hanging around and making them a bigger target."

"However," said Eric, "what we would like to do is establish contact with the Orb colonies and arrange for supply shipments to be delivered to us. With the reduced Alliance presence at L3 I believe it would be possible to set up a covert shipping operation."

"Of course," Lacus chimed in, turning towards the Orb delegation, "we can only do this with your help, Lady Cagalli. I understand that this does potentially pose a risk for the Orb settlements at L3 if the activity is discovered, but we need a source of supplies. Please, will you help us?"

Cagalli looked down for a moment, and Murrue could see the weight the young woman carried on her shoulders. Such a decision was not to be made lightly. The girl was loath to put her people in danger, but at the same time she could see the points Lacus and the others had raised.

Poor girl, she thought, she now bears responsibility for the safety of so many others. She's more than willing to risk her own life in battle, but it is a far different matter when it comes to her fellow countrymen. That is as it should be. She truly cares deeply for her people. They could not ask for a better successor to Lord Uzumi.

Eventually the young lady turned to Erica and Kisaka. "Well? What do you two think?"

The Colonel sighed. "It's difficult, Lady Cagalli. I would prefer to do all we could to keep from drawing L3 back into this conflict… but we need a source of supplies, and our colonies and resource satellites are the best available to us."

"The Colonel's right, my Lady," said Erica, "the only other option available to us is the Debris Belt communities, and that is a loathsome bunch. Smugglers, pirates, scavengers… they would be far more likely to sell us out to either side than do business with us. Morgenroete has facilities in our colonies and resource satellites that can provide us with top of the line equipment and materials, and both Eden and Elysium have advanced agricultural capabilities, far more so than Heliopolis did. Through them we could have a secure food supply, and that's as vital to us as access to munitions and spare parts."

Cagalli nodded before turning to Waltfeld and Eric. "Alright then, I'll allow it. I'll need access to the Eternal's advanced communications array so I can get a signal through the N-Jammer interference. The distance between L4 and L3 is too great for the Kusanagi to send a transmission that the colonies will be able to understand with all the background interference."

Lacus smiled. "Of course, Cagalli. I'll personally help you with that once this meeting is over. Thank you. I realize that what we ask is not easy of you."

Cagalli shook her head and smiled. "You're right, Lacus, it's not… but it has to be done. Hopefully the ships the colonies send out will be able to slip through the Alliance patrols without detection."

"It's not like we need large convoys," said Eric, "Single ships will be more than sufficient."

"Ok," said Cagalli, "I guess I'll need a shopping list from everyone before I contact the colonies."

"I'll prepare one for the Archangel as soon as possible," said Murrue.

"I'll do the same for the Eternal," said Waltfeld, "and I imagine Colonel Kisaka will attend to the Kusanagi."

"The Eternal probably needs resupply more than the Archangel and the Kusanagi at the moment," La Flaga chimed in, "It did launch from the PLANTs before our vessels left Orb."

"True enough," said Aisha, "but we prepped for a long voyage. Our stocks aren't near critical levels right now. We can continue to operate smoothly for quite some time, and I imagine the same is true for the Archangel and the Kusanagi. Still, it's good to get a supply line set up now rather than wait until later."

"Wait too long and 'later' becomes 'too late'," said Heero, "Solving the matter now is a prudent step."

"One that I'm glad we're taking," said Murrue, "I'm glad we're getting this issue out of the way now before it becomes a major problem down the road. However, there is still the matter of what we do now. We don't simply sit here and wait for signs that the final battle between the Alliance and ZAFT is about to start, do we?"

"I'm with Captain Ramius," said Cagalli, "I know that we're no match for the full might of either superpower, let alone both of them, but we can't just hide here and give them free reign to do what they please!"

"Don't worry," said Waltfeld, "we have no intention of playing hide and seek with the Alliance and ZAFT forever. I'm sure we'll have more than our share of fights before the final showdown. However, for the immediate future we do have to sit here for a little while, I'm afraid."

"What?" said Kira, his eyes widening, "Why?"

"I need to monitor developments," said Eric, "My contact network may have been reduced thanks to Zala's most recent purge, but I still have people that can get us information. If we make any sort of move without accurate intelligence that could give the Alliance or ZAFT an opportunity to take us out."

"We also need to give Councilor Canaver time to rally more support to the moderate faction that remains inside the PLANTs," said Lacus, "Without a solid core of support and followers in the right places of government, overthrowing the radicals may not be possible. Done wrongly, and it could potentially lead to a civil war within the PLANTs, and we cannot let that happen."

"But hasn't it already?" asked Cagalli, "I mean, you guys are fighting against ZAFT, and we're already talking about paving the way for the moderates to oust the radicals in the PLANTs. That all sounds like civil war to me."

"Not quite," said Heero, causing the others to look at him, "The only armed opposition to Zala from ZAFT has been Waltfeld and the other defectors in our group. Resistance within the Coordinator homeland itself has been covert and political. No one is openly shooting at each other within L5, meaning they're not in a state of open civil war."

"But that could well change if Councilor Canaver and her followers make their move at the wrong time," said Murrue, grasping what Heero, Lacus, and Eric were getting at, "The colonies themselves could erupt into open warfare if the moderates' coup is not handled properly. If that were to happen… well, I can only imagine the carnage."

"Exactly," said Waltfeld, "it'd be a nasty fight. Urban warfare is bad enough as it is, but combine that with the confined space of a colony and you have an exponential increase in the chance of civilian casualties."

"Casualties we cannot allow," said Lacus firmly, "not only must we do all we can to keep the civilians away from the fighting, but such bloodshed would taint the legitimacy of any post-Zala government."

"Exactly," said Eric, "that's why patience and careful timing is critical to the ultimate success of our endeavor."

Cagalli nodded. "Alright, I get what you're saying. I guess I've just gotten used to being able to go out right away and take the fight to the enemy. My time with Desert Dawn, my stint as a Skygrasper pilot on the Archangel, fighting off the invasion of Orb, and the battles we've participated in over the past week and a half… a long and deliberate pause in fighting is not something I was anticipating when we came into outer space."

"I can imagine," said Waltfeld, "and ZAFT and the Alliance certainly aren't taking time off. However, our struggle is different from theirs. Hell, it's unique in the entire history of human warfare. We're an armed third party that's trying to bring an end to a war that does not involve one side scoring an overwhelming victory over the other. We can't fight like a traditional armed force, engaging in battles to take territory or wipe out fleets and armies. We're attempting to prevent either side from achieving true victory or defeat. You might say that we're trying to cause this conflict to ultimately end in a draw, and not a mutually destructive one."

"Even if we can get both sides to the negotiating table," said Eric, "we have to do all we can to make sure that they're approaching the matter as equals. We can't have one in a position of overwhelming strength over the other. That party would just dominate the proceedings and force terms that would heavily favor them over the other side, which in turn would foster resentment and only serve to sow the seeds for the next conflict."

Murrue sighed. "We're really going to be walking a tightrope in this campaign of ours. Achieving that kind of balance after both sides have become increasingly infected by rabid and visceral hatred for each other… it's not going to be easy."

"No," said Heero, "but we all knew that going in. This is the path we've chosen, and while the road may be long and difficult, we have to stay committed to it. Through determination, patience, and perseverance, we can achieve our goal."

Murrue nodded and smiled. "Don't worry, Heero. I'm resolved to continue down this course. We all are."

The Gundam pilot nodded and gave her a small smile in return. "I know, Murrue. I'd never doubt your resolve. I know you were just acknowledging the challenge we face, nothing more. You're the strongest person I've ever met."

The beautiful Captain felt a bit of heat rush to her face, and she squeezed Heero's hand under the table. "Thank you, Heero."

Shemei whistled, causing Murrue and Heero to turn to her. The Valkyrie smiled. "High praise, coming from the deadliest soldier in the world."

"It's the truth," said Heero, "I meant every word."

"I'm sure you did," said Eric, smiling and nodding, "you don't strike me as a flatterer, Heero."

"It's not my style," he replied. The Gundam pilot then turned to Waltfeld and Lacus. "I understand the need for us to lay low here while your allies within the PLANTs organize and send us intelligence, and I'm fine with waiting for information before we begin any type of operation. However, we shouldn't just sit around and do nothing here. We should organize patrols of the area so that we'll have forewarning in the event that Alliance or ZAFT ships track us down prior to our next operation. It'd also be good to run exercises and improve coordination and teamwork among our mobile suit pilots."

"My thoughts exactly," said Waltfeld, "The nuclear powered mobile suits are well suited to prolonged patrols, but I don't want to put that burden completely on the shoulders of just seven pilots. We'll mix up patrols, with both conventional and nuclear powered machines in the rotation. Every pilot will sortie at some point, and this way we can prevent burnout among individuals. We can't afford to have the pilots of our most powerful machines tiring out before a possible engagement, and one could find us at any time if the Alliance or ZAFT figure out where we've gone to ground."

"What about the warships?" asked Murrue, "Will our vessels be staying inside Mendel, or will we be rotating them in and out as well?"

"They'll stay inside," Waltfeld replied, "The only times they'll be launching are in the event of incoming enemy forces, an impending operation, or when we decide to leave this place and move on to another area to hide out at." The Desert Tiger glanced between Murrue and Kisaka. "I want both of you to work out flight schedules for all your pilots and then send them to me. I'll coordinate the flight times and paths of the Eternal's pilots with those. We should be able to cover most of the L4 debris field, or at least the area surrounding Mendel. The nuclear powered mobile suits will get the longer shifts, of course, but I want every machine and pilot available to be set to fly at one point or another."

Murrue nodded. "Understood. I'll work one up for the Archangel's pilots as soon as I return to the ship."

"And I'll do the same when I get back to the Kusanagi," said Kisaka, "although I hope you will understand if I leave Lady Cagalli out of the rotation."

"Of course," said Waltfeld, nodding.

"Hey!" said Cagalli, glaring at the Colonel, "What the hell, Kisaka? I don't want any special treatment here! I'm the pilot of the Strike Rouge; I should have a part in the patrols!"

"Lady Cagalli," said Erica, "you are also the leader of our government-in-exile; you will have far more responsibilities on your shoulders than just flying."

"She's right, Cagalli," said Lacus, "Remember, you and I are the political leaders of this movement, and that means that we have our own duties to attend to. Coordinating the supply shipments from Eden and Elysium, establishing contact between members of our organization and the Orb colonies, working out scenarios for what to do to end the war and negotiate peace… we will have our hands full."

The tomboy princess sighed, and Murrue could see reluctant acceptance set in. "Alright," said Cagalli, "I understand. Still, don't think that means I'll stay on the bench when it's time to fight!"

Murrue smiled. "I don't think any of us could stop you, Cagalli."

"Though I imagine her father would've at least wanted me to try," sighed Kisaka, "Don't worry, Lady Cagalli; no one will keep you from piloting the Strike Rouge when the time comes to engage."

Cagalli folded her arms and smiled. "Good. As long as we're clear on that."

"I think we are," said Waltfeld. He then turned to Lacus. "Anything else on the agenda, Miss Clyne?"

"Not that I can think of at present," she said, "Mister Bristow? Any more pressing intelligence for us?"

"No, Miss Clyne," Eric replied, shaking his head, "I'll let you know when I get the next round of updates from my contacts inside the PLANTs."

"Then we're done here for today," said Lacus, standing up, "I'm glad this session was so productive… though it did wind up going longer then I had anticipated."

Eric shrugged as he and the others followed the songstress's lead. "Can't be helped, Miss Clyne. We did have a lot to go over, after all."

"No argument there," said Murrue.

"Alright," said Waltfeld, "Captain Ramius, you and your delegation can return to the Archangel. Cagalli and her group will return to the Kusanagi once they've sent out their requisition order to the L3 colonies, along with your own. Please make yours ASAP."

Murrue nodded. "Understood, Waltfeld."

….

As the conference broke up and the attending parties began to go their separate ways, Heero grabbed Murrue by the arm, halting her from leaving the room. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What is it, Heero?'

The Gundam pilot gave her a small smile. "Send the others on ahead to the shuttle, Murrue. There's something you and I need to discuss with Waltfeld before we return to the Archangel."

Murrue gave him a puzzled look, but she did not argue. She looked over at La Flaga, Eric, and Shemei, who were all waiting over by the door. "Go on ahead, you three. We'll be along shortly."

The three officers shared a brief, perplexed glance before nodding and heading on their way. As they went out the door Heero gently grabbed Murrue by the hand and led her towards the Desert Tiger. The former ZAFT Field Marshal was still standing by his spot at the conference table, his only company Aisha.

Now's as good a time as any to do this, he thought, I'm pretty sure it's a favor Waltfeld will grant… and it's one I owe Murrue, especially after all I've put her through. It won't make up completely for the stress I've caused her over the past few days… but it'll be a start. Besides, this is something she's needed since Alaska, but there hasn't really been any time for it until now. She's been so devoted to commanding the Archangel, looking after her crew… and me.

Waltfeld and Aisha turned to the Perfect Soldier and his girlfriend as they approached. "Heero, Murrue," said Aisha, smiling, "Is there something you need?"

Heero nodded. "Yeah… a favor from Waltfeld."

The Desert Tiger nodded and smiled. "Name it, Heero. After all you did in the raid on the PLANTs, I think you've more than earned that much."

"It's about the Eternal's communications array," said Heero, "It's more sophisticated than even the advanced setups on the Archangel and the Kusanagi, or at least that's what I understand based on how you've been using it to help Bristow stay in touch with his contacts in the PLANTs."

"That's right," said Waltfeld, "By itself it's still limited by N-Jammer interference, though even then its range is quite impressive. However, combine it with the use of the communication satellites that are scattered throughout space, and it can get a clear message to anywhere in the Earth Sphere."

"I'm assuming it can do the same for e-mail," said Heero.

Waltfeld nodded. "Yes, it can. Is there someone you want to contact, Heero?"

Heero shook his head. "Not me; Murrue."

"What?" said Murrue, her eyes widening in both surprise and comprehension, "Heero, do you mean…"

The Gundam pilot nodded and gave her a small smile. "Your parents, Murrue. I know you've been worried about them ever since we went rogue at Alaska, but with all that's happened you've never had the chance to contact them. First you were simply trying to find us a place to take shelter from the Alliance and ZAFT, and then there was the preparation for the invasion of Orb and the fighting itself, followed up by our evacuation to outer space and our joining forces with the ZAFT renegades and PLANT moderates… you put aside contacting them in order to focus on commanding the Archangel."

Murrue nodded, a guilty look on her face. "It's true. I could've taken the time while we were in Orb to send a message, but…"

Heero shook his head and gave her hand a tight squeeze. "Murrue, it's not your fault. Like I said, you were focused on taking care of the people under your command and leading your ship in its new struggle. Compared to that, contacting your parents would naturally have been something you'd set aside."

"Perhaps," she said, giving him a sheepish smile, "but… well, some might say that I should've set my feelings for you aside, Heero, but I didn't. I put you at the same level as I did the Archangel, if not higher… and I neglected my parents as a result."

"No you didn't, Murrue," said Aisha, stepping forward and putting a hand on her shoulder, "You saw the young man that you loved giving everything he had to help you and the people serving under you survive, putting himself in harm's way to protect you. The dangers that have threatened you, your crew, and Heero have been clear and present, while your parents are quite removed from the front lines. It's only natural that you would give those closest to you and sharing the danger you faced a higher priority."

"Aisha's right," said Waltfeld, "Captain Ramius, don't pile this guilt on your shoulders. It doesn't help anyone, least of all you. Besides, I'm sure that's something Heero doesn't want to see."

Heero shook his head. "No, it's not." He met Murrue's gaze. "You have nothing to feel guilty for, Murrue. I'm sure your parents would understand why you've remained out of contact up until now, given the dangers you've faced and your responsibilities. That being said, I'm also sure it'd mean a lot to them to hear from you, to know that you're safe… and I know it'd mean even more to you just to tell them that."

Murrue nodded and smiled. "Yes, it would, Heero." She then turned to Waltfeld. "Still… would that be alright? I mean, I'm sure you and Bristow can only use the Eternal's communication array sparingly; too many transmissions could help the Alliance or ZAFT track us down. In light of that, wouldn't a personal message be an unnecessary risk? No matter how badly I may wish to send a message to my mother and father, I can't allow myself to endanger us by doing so."

Murrue, thought Heero, smiling slightly, you've always called me selfless, but that word really applies to you. As you told me yesterday though, you've more than earned the right to be selfish for once. Please, take it.

Waltfeld shook his head and smiled. "I understand and appreciate your concern, Captain Ramius, but in this case it is not necessary. We won't send your message out in a transmission of its own, but in a simultaneous burst with one of our transmissions to Councilor Canaver and Bristow's contacts in the PLANTs. It will pose no greater risk of exposing us then the transmission to the moderates in Aprilius One will. The only difference in this case is the intended destination of the message. We're very good at covering our tracks with these covert transmissions, Captain Ramius. We may not be able to keep them unnoticed forever, but we can and will make ZAFT and the Alliance work very hard at finding their source."

"You see?" said Heero, causing Murrue to turn to him, "You won't be endangering the rest of us. I know it might seem like you're taking advantage of your position by doing this, Murrue, but you're not. You need to contact your parents, to tell them that you're alright. Not just for their sake, but for yours… and mine."

"Heero…" said Murrue.

He then took her by both hands. "Murrue, you may have kept it under wraps, but I know how important your family is to you. The way you spoke of them back during our date in Orb… that was enough for me to see how much you treasure your mother and father. When you went rogue at Alaska and abandoned the Alliance, I knew that it meant you might never be able to see your parents again. I may have never known my own family, but to face the knowledge that you may be permanently separated from one you had known and loved… I can't begin to imagine how that must've felt, Murrue. Compared to you, I got off easy."

"No," said Murrue, shaking her head, "you… what you went through in your past…"

'I've dealt with it," Heero replied, "thanks in no small part to you. What you've been facing since Alaska has been a very different kind of hardship from what I went through, one that is far more fresh and painful. Murrue, I know that going against the nation of your parents is difficult for you, though you hide it well. I want to do anything I can to ease that burden for you, and in this case that means getting you the means to send a message to your mother and father."

Murrue closed her eyes for a moment in thought. When she opened them again, Heero could see affection and gratitude radiating in those beautiful brown orbs. "Alright, Heero… and thank you."

The Gundam pilot shook his head. "Don't thank me. Waltfeld's the one that'll set everything up for you."

"Perhaps," said Murrue, smiling, "but you're the inspiration for it. I… I probably never would've asked Waltfeld or Lacus for something like this out of fear of putting us all at risk for a selfish desire."

"Loving your parents and wanting to let them know you're ok is not selfish," said Aisha, smiling, "not in my book."

"Nor mine," said Waltfeld, "Write your message and send it over to us, Captain Ramius. I'll have it sent out when we make our next contact with our people in the PLANTs. No one on the Eternal will read the contents. I trust you enough to know that you won't put anything in the e-mail that could jeopardize us, and I won't violate your privacy."

Murrue bowed her head. "Thank you, Aisha, Waltfeld." She then turned to Heero and surprised him with a quick kiss on the lips. "And you, Heero."

Heero nodded, a warm feeling flowing out from his heart, the contentment that came with seeing the woman he loved happy. "Anytime, Murrue."

"If I may be so bold," said Murrue, turning to Waltfeld and Aisha, "would it be possible for me to allow my crew to send messages as well? I'm not the only one who left family behind back on Earth, and I want the people serving under me to have the same chance as me to contact their loved ones, at least to let them know that they are alright."

Waltfeld nodded and smiled. "Of course, Captain Ramius. As long as you stress upon them the importance of being discrete and not giving away our current position or the details of their plans, I would be more than happy to send their messages out along with your own when we make our next transmission. However, this will be the only time I'll be doing this while we're in hiding. After this, I'm limiting our transmissions only to absolutely vital ones."

Murrue smiled and bowed her head. "Of course, I understand. Thank you, Waltfeld."

"No problem, Captain Ramius," he replied.

Heero smiled slightly as he watched the exchange. Murrue, he thought, you continue to amaze me. You've taken the chance to turn a favor for yourself into one for your entire crew, one that they will be glad to have. All I cared about was making sure you had a chance to tell your parents that you were alive and unharmed, but you took it a step further… you truly are a remarkable woman.

"We'll be leaving now," said Murrue, "I'll have my message composed soon, and I'll send the others along as well. I just… I'm not entirely sure what to say. So much has happened…"

"Just start with the basics," said Waltfeld, "you're alive and unharmed, and you hope they're doing alright. Anything beyond that, I'll trust your discretion in the matter."

Murrue nodded. "As good a way as any to begin, all things considered. Farewell, Waltfeld. Aisha."

She turned to Heero, and the two of them made their way out of the conference room. The beautiful Captain continued to smile as they headed towards the hangar, and to Heero it looked as though a giant weight had been removed from her shoulders. Of course, the young man knew that her worries in this matter weren't completely over yet. Figuring out the right way to word her message to her parents would be no small challenge, especially considering that her father was an officer in the Atlantic Federation military. Murrue had committed treason at Alaska, and her subsequent actions would not have helped matters in that regard. Heero could only hope that her father would be willing to believe what she had to say, to look beyond the rules and regulations of the military and to the heart of the matter, to see that Murrue's actions had been right.

She didn't act to save herself, thought Heero, she acted to save everyone under her command. Her abandonment of the Alliance at Alaska was not cowardice, though I'm sure the Atlantic Federation has tried to frame it as such. She refused to let her people be sacrificed simply for the sake of killing Coordinators, and she fought with all her strength to protect her subordinates. The last thing anyone can call her is a coward.

"Heero," said Murrue. As the Gundam pilot turned to face her she took his hand in hers and once again leaned over to kiss him.

"What you did back there," she said, "I can't begin to tell you how much that meant to me. That you would take the time, go out of your way to convince Waltfeld to let me use the Eternal's systems to contact my parents in the midst of everything else we have going on… I've never had such a caring, selfless companion before. Such a compassionate boyfriend…"

Heero gave her a small smile. "It's the least I could do for you, Murrue. I told you before; I want you to be happy, and I'll do everything I can to make that happen."

"You've more than done that today," she replied, "I may be nervous about what I'll write to my parents, but that does not take away in the least from the joy you've given me."

Heero nodded. "I just hope that your mother and father are doing alright. These past few months can't have been easy on them."

"I'm sure you're right, Heero," said Murrue as they rounded a corner and headed towards the hangar entrance, "and now I'll be able to ease their concerns. It's all thanks to you, Heero, and I'll be sure to let them know that. I want them to know that they're indebted to you for saving their daughter more times than she could possibly count… and for giving her the love and devotion that she's only dreamed of before."

Heero felt a familiar heat come to his face. "Murrue… I just…"

"Don't," said Murrue, winking, "I'm not going to let you finish that sentence. I know you, Heero. You have a bad habit of not giving yourself enough credit. It's a sign of your humility, and I adore you for it, but I also think you need to take a little more pride in what you do. That goes for both on and off the battlefield."

She stopped walking and grabbed Heero by the shoulders. Meeting her gaze, Heero could see the warm pride radiating in her eyes. "I want my mother and father to know about you, Heero. I want them to know just how incredible a young man you are, how lucky I am to have met you, and how blessed I am to have fallen in love with you. Don't worry, I won't tell them about your past, and I won't share anything regarding Wing Zero's secrets."

Heero nodded. "I know you wouldn't, Murrue. I trust you."

"And I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me that you do," she replied, "So I'll just have to settle for describing you to my parents, and in the most flattering way I can imagine." She gave a small laugh. "I hope that'll do for now, Heero."

The Perfect Soldier smirked. "I think I can deal with that."

"Good," said Murrue. She once again took his hand, and the two of them proceeded into the hangar.

As they made their way towards the shuttle from the Archangel, Heero once again reflected on how much more at ease Murrue seemed now when compared to over the past few days. His move to give her the means to send a message to her parents had done wonders for her, but to Heero it wasn't enough. He'd willingly put himself in the most dangerous role possible in the raid on Aprilius One, and immediately after that he had thrown himself into a duel with his rivalry that could very well have turned lethal if something had gone wrong. He had seen just how much pain both of those events had put Murrue through, and to Heero simply helping her contact her mother and father was not enough to make up for the distress he'd caused her. He needed to do something more, find some way to show her just how much he regretted what he had put her through… and how determined he was to make up for that.

It couldn't be a simple apology; Heero had already done that, and though Murrue had accepted it the Gundam pilot did not feel that his words alone were adequate to make up for the fear and pain he'd caused the woman he loved to feel. He had to find a way to translate his feelings into action, to do something that would give Murrue a happiness that would counter all the distress he'd put her under over the past week and a half. Becoming a couple just prior to the raid on the PLANTs had gone a long way towards that, and now Heero wanted a way to build on it.

Suddenly, unbidden and uncalled for, images of a very special day flashed through his mind. It was the time that he had truly begun to act on his feelings for the beautiful Captain, to explore his emotions to determine if he did indeed love her.

Their first date in Orb.

Heero could recall, with perfect clarity, every detail of that incredible afternoon and evening that he had shared with Murrue. The mall, the stroll through the city, their discussion in the coffee shop, their walk and dance in the park, the meal and singing together in the restaurant… he could see it in his mind's eye as if it had happened only yesterday.

That day, he thought, was incredible. Not just for me, though, but for Murrue as well. It made her happy, it wiped away all the anxiety and stress that our journey had put upon her, if only for a little while. It helped bring us closer together, made us more at ease with each other… and it lightened the burdens we'd been carrying for so long. That day, because I was willing to take a chance and act on my emotions… it gave us an amazing, unforgettable experience. I want to give her another one… another date.

Of course, that was easier said than done, considering their current circumstances. They weren't in Orb, or any place on Earth for that matter where such a date might be possible. Were they on a more intact and functioning colony an outing like their first one could be arranged, but they were lucky that Mendel could maintain its spin and gravity without falling apart. It certainly wasn't a place that Murrue could take out to see the sights. Even someone with Heero's limited experience knew that an old ruin of a colony was hardly a place one might consider to be romantic.

I'll have to improvise, Heero thought as he and Murrue boarded the shuttle, but… how?

He didn't have a whole lot of options. The two of them were confined to the Archangel until they found a more habitable anchorage, and Murrue pretty much knew the whole ship inside and out. The ship's meal variety was limited to say the least, and try as he might Heero could not think of a way to make a romantic dinner out of the military rations.

This sort of thing just isn't my strong suit, he thought as he sat down beside Murrue, I'm good at fighting and flying...

His eyes widened slightly at that last word as a burst of inspiration hit him.

Flying…

"Heero?" said Murrue, "Everything alright?"

The Gundam pilot turned to her and gave her a small smile. "I'm fine, Murrue. Just a little wrapped up in my thoughts. It's nothing big."

Murrue nodded and smiled. "Ok."

Actually, it was something big, though not in the way she might think. Heero didn't like hiding things from her, but he wanted the idea that was forming in his mind to remain a surprise for Murrue. He had a feeling she would appreciate that more.

Romance isn't one of my strengths, he thought, but flying is, and I can use that here.

He glanced around the shuttle and saw Shemei and Eric already in their seats, while La Flaga was heading up towards the cockpit. As his plan continued to grow in his mind, he made note of those whose help he would need in order to make it come to fruition.

I don't think they'll mind lending me a hand, he mused, they are my friends, after all…

The Perfect Soldier found himself working hard to resist smiling again as the shuttle lifted off. Glancing over at the beautiful woman to his left, he could feel an excitement growing within him, one that only she could awaken in his heart. He still needed to work out all the details of his little plan, but his emotions were already telling him that what he had come up with was something his lover would greatly enjoy. It would help take her mind off of the struggle that lay before them. It would make her happy, and that mattered to him more than anything else.

….

After powering the shuttle down, La Flaga exited the cockpit and went down to the cabin. Joining the others as they gathered by the starboard hatch, he turned to the Captain. "So, what's next, ma'am?"

As she opened the hatch Murrue turned to him. "I'm going to go work up our requisition order for when Cagalli gets a supply shipment set up from the Orb colonies. I'll also get a patrol schedule for our ship's mobile suits set up, and let the rest of the crew know that they're being given a chance to send a message out to their families."

She looked over at Heero and Shemei. "Since Wing Zero and the Judgment are nuclear powered units, you two will get the longer patrol flights. Six hours isn't too much for you, is it?"

"I've pulled longer runs," said Shemei, "that's fine by me."

"Same here," said Heero, "You did have me running eight hour flights back on Earth, remember? Six won't be a problem."

Murrue smiled. "Alright."

The Captain then led the way out of the shuttle. Heero was to her right, while La Flaga and the others followed close behind. As they all walked through the hangar Murrue turned towards the others. "La Flaga, Bristow? Since your machines are battery powered, I'll have you flying four hour patrols. The same goes for Dearka. This way we'll be able to have at least one pilot from our ship out there at all hours of the day. Combine that with flights from the Eternal and the Kusanagi, and we should be able to cover most of the immediate area around Mendel. I want all of you to see to your machines and make sure that they're ready for when I get the patrol schedule set up."

"Got it," said Heero.

"Yes, ma'am," said La Flaga.

"Understood," said Eric.

"We'll be ready," said Shemei.

Murrue nodded. "Good. I'll have Lieutenant Tsukino contact Dearka and have him get down here as well. Dismissed."

The pilots dispersed, though La Flaga caught Heero stealing a brief kiss from the Captain before she left the hangar. He certainly couldn't blame the guy for doing so, and was glad that Heero and Murrue seemed happy together, though watching them did remind him of his separation from the woman he desired.

Natarle, he thought, closing his eyes for a moment, damn, I miss you. I finally managed to crack that cool exterior of yours, get you to warm up, and then the brass goes and transfers us. I may have made it back to the Archangel, but you didn't. Wherever you are, I hope you're ok…

The Archangel's former Executive Officer had never replied to his email, and La Flaga was unsure how to take that. On the one hand, he knew that just reading it, regardless of how well Heero had helped him encrypt it to keep the Alliance from eavesdropping, put her at risk. The Hawk of Endymion knew that to reply to his message could exponentially increase any danger that Natarle was in, and he had even discouraged her from doing so in order to protect her. There was also the fact that, in their current situation, he couldn't independently access email; all communications for the group beyond local transmissions, web based and otherwise, were being handled by the Eternal's highly advanced and sophisticated array. He couldn't check his account to see if Natarle had replied to his message even if he wanted to.

All that considered, though, Mu knew that he would give just about anything to hear something from her right now. Just a simple hello, a message saying that she was alright. Hell, he'd even take some scolding from her for committing treason and abandoning the Alliance; any message at all would be a sign that she was still safe and unharmed, regardless of content.

I know she's stiff and takes military rules and regulations far more seriously than the rest of us did, he thought, but still… I know she wouldn't ignore the situation the top brass put us into at Alaska. She'd understand that Captain Ramius acted to save the lives of her crew, not simply to preserver her own life. We abandoned the Alliance because they betrayed us, and I'm sure Natarle could recognize that. Whether or not she accepts what she did... whether she still loves me or not after what happened… well, I'll just have to hope that what she feels for me is strong enough to look past my betrayal of the Alliance. All I can do is believe in her.

It was tempting to take advantage of the Captain's offer to send personal messages to the Eternal so Waltfeld could route them to the crew's loved ones, but he could not bring himself to do it. It was not because of nerves, but because he dared not put Natarle at more risk than he might have already with his first e-mail.

He sighed as he made his way over towards the Tallgeese Kai, the sight of his formidable machine making him smile in spite of his longing for Natarle. The Hawk of Endymion really did love the mobile suit, though the affection was of course not of the same nature as the kind he felt for the woman he so missed. Rather, it was that familiar attachment he'd felt in the past for other machines he'd flown.

Hell, two of them are here on this ship, he mused, glancing towards the far corner where the Skygrasper and the Moebius Zero were tucked away. His prototype mobile armor hadn't gotten any use since the battle that had seen the destruction of the Eighth Fleet, and he hadn't flown the Skygrasper since his last patrol before the Archangel had arrived at Orb after the clash at Alaska. Still, La Flaga was pleased to see that the hangar crews had not neglected both machines, and they appeared prime for action should the need arise. Since they were in outer space there was no chance of the Skygrasper seeing battle, but the same did not go for the Moebius Zero. If something happened to the Tallgeese Kai, the Hawk of Endymion could take comfort in the fact that the mobile armor that had helped him earn his moniker was waiting in the wings.

Making his way up the maintenance causeway to the mobile suit's cockpit, he opened the hatch and got inside. Powering up the machine, the blond ace got to work on the systems checks. There wasn't much he actually needed to do; the hangar crews had tightly maintained the mobile suit since the raid on the PLANTs, and La Flaga had made sure to perform routine checks of his own, but it never hurt to go over things again, especially given the environment he would be flying his patrols in. The debris field surrounding Mendel was not to be trifled with, especially since his machine did not have Phase Shift Armor, nor was it composed of the same remarkably tough alloy as Wing Zero. The unit's titanium hull was durable in its own right, but the fact remained that it couldn't shrug off impacts like some of the other machines in the Three Ships Alliance.

Speed and maneuverability are my best friends, he thought as he watched the data scroll along the main monitor, some things never change. It was the same with the mobile armor and the Skygrasper. Although, I guess the Tallgeese Kai does have a little more in the way of defensive options. Those Planet Defensors have certainly come in handy for blocking shots, and I could probably use them to cushion impacts from debris. Unfortunately I can't keep them running nonstop; too much drain on the battery. I've still got the round shield mounted on the left arm, but it doesn't have quite the same coverage as something like the Judgment's or Wing Zero's shield.

La Flaga shrugged as he continued the checks. The risk involved with flying in the debris field didn't bother him too much. After all, the live of a combat pilot was full of risk, and it didn't take long for one to become casual with how they approached it.

Eventually, satisfied that the unit would be ready for when the time came to head out, La Flaga powered down the Tallgeese Kai and exited the machine. Turning around after closing the hatch, he was surprised to see Heero standing at the feet of the Tallgeese Kai, looking up at the mobile suit. The young man's gaze was thoughtful as he studied the machine.

"Hey, Heero," said La Flaga as he headed down towards his fellow pilot, "What's up?"

"How's the Tallgeese Kai?" Heero asked.

The Hawk of Endymion smiled. "Ready as she'll ever be. How's Wing Zero?"

"Good to go," he replied, his gaze still fixed on La Flaga's machine.

The former Alliance ace folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the Gundam pilot. "Alright, what's going on, Heero? What really brings you over here? You're looking awfully hard at my machine."

The young man looked back and forth between La Flaga and the Tallgeese Kai for a moment before meeting the Hawk's gaze. "I need a favor… and it involves your machine."

La Flaga raised an eyebrow. Well, this should be interesting.

"What kind of favor?" he asked, "Don't get me wrong; I've got a lot of respect for you, and after all the things you've done for us I don't mind lending you a hand. Still, this is my mobile suit now, and you know how pilots get when it comes to their machines."

Heero nodded, and La Flaga was surprised to actually see him smirk at his words. "Trust me, I'm well aware of that. I can relate to getting attached to your mobile suit. That makes the favor I'm going to ask from you no small one, but I promise that the Tallgeese Kai won't be put at risk because of it."

Interesting, thought La Flaga, in combat, that's not a guarantee anyone can make when it comes to military hardware, and that's something Heero's well aware of. That means the favor he's asking isn't related to fighting. If that's the case, then why would what he's asking be related to my mobile suit? Why would he need one at all, for that matter?

At any rate, La Flaga definitely trusted the young man. Although he hadn't spoken too often with the Gundam pilot, he viewed Heero as a comrade in arms. Wing Zero's pilot was a skilled combatant, solid under fire, and reliable no matter what the circumstances. The only real exception to that last bit was his rampage at Orb, but La Flaga was willing to overlook that as there hadn't been any repeats of that scenario since then. Whatever had caused Heero to lose control of the Zero System during that fight had clearly been dealt with since, and that put the Gundam pilot's reliability back at top notch as far as the Hawk of Endymion was concerned.

La Flaga smiled. "Well, I guess the least I can do is hear you out. What do you need?"

He listened as Heero explained what he was planning, his smile soon turning to one of friendly amusement. How about that, he thought, I didn't think he had this sort of thing in him. He's a lot more human than some of us give him credit for…

When Heero was done he met La Flaga's gaze. "Well?"

La Flaga chuckled. "You know, you really are something else, kid. Most of the time you're a cool professional; nothing seems to move you or ruffle your feathers. You certainly were that way when you first joined up with us. Then a woman warms that heart of yours, and you think of something like this… I wouldn't have pegged you for a romantic."

"Will you help me?" asked Heero, obviously not amused, "Please, this is important, La Flaga."

"Relax, buddy," said La Flaga, nodding, "I'll go along with it. Hell, if it weren't for you giving those schematics to Morgenroete, I wouldn't have the Tallgeese Kai to begin with. Looking at it that way, you've certainly got a right to it, and since the original Tallgeese was the predecessor for Wing Zero I'm sure you can handle the machine." He smiled again. "Alright, Heero; I'll let you use it. At least I know it'll be in good hands… and given what you're going to do with it, I know it won't be anything too risky. Not with her involved."

Heero nodded. "You're right about that. Thanks, La Flaga."

"Anytime," the Hawk replied.

….

Stepping out of the Judgment and closing the hatch, Shemei took a moment to look up at the fearsome prototype mobile suit. Once again she reflected upon the mixed feelings the machine gave her. On the one hand, it was an incredible unit, and a thrill to fly. However, it had become inextricably linked with the memory of her parents' kidnapping, and that was a taint that Shemei knew she would never be able to cleanse from it. The impact it had had on her, the guilt she had put herself through during the ordeal and continued to hit herself with even now that her mother and father were free, was just not something that she could shrug off.

I need you for now, she thought as her gaze met the cold electronic eyes of the mobile suit, I need the power you give me so I can help end this war, protect my friends and family, and defend the man I love. However, when this is all over… I'm afraid I'll have to destroy you. The shadow of Zala is indelibly tied to you, the memory of him threatening my parents and taking them hostage forever bound within you. I will endure it for the sake of the others, but that will come to an end once this war is over. I can tolerate you only because I know the people I care about need me to, are counting my ability to use your power in combat. Once this is over though, I will eliminate you… and perhaps purge my guilt in the process. I can only hope.

"Hey," said a familiar voice from below behind her, "everything alright?"

Shemei turned and smiled as Eric walked over, fresh from performing his own checks on the GuAIZ Werewolf. The Valkyrie hurried down to the hangar floor to meet him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a kiss. "I'm fine, my love," she replied as their lips parted, "just a little lost in thought."

Eric nodded. "I can't really blame you for that. With all that's going on, all we went over in the meeting… plenty of food for thought there."

Though the object of her preoccupation was not related to what was discussed in the conference, Shemei decided to go along with her boyfriend. She didn't want to worry him unnecessarily.

He's got enough on his mind as it is, she thought.

"Yeah," she said, "but we shouldn't spend our every waking minute worrying about it all. It just piles more stress onto us, and that doesn't help in the short or long term."

Eric smiled. "You're right. How's the Judgment? Ready for patrol duty?"

"Yup," she replied, "how about the Werewolf?"

"All set," said Eric, "The lack of Phase Shift Armor means I'll have to be more careful with my flying than you when I'm out in the debris field, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"It's not like we don't have experience with this sort of thing," said Shemei, smiling, "reminds me of the Styx Field exercise back during our training days."

"Yeah," said Eric, nodding, "although I think that was actually more dangerous since we were flying those old fighters rather than mobile suits. At least the machines we have now are better protected, even those with conventional armor."

"You're right about that," said Shemei.

"Well," said Eric, "no sense in worrying about it until we get our flight assignments from the Captain. So, now that we're done down here, want to go grab a bite to eat?"

Shemei nodded. "Sounds good, dear." Looking over Eric's shoulder, her smile turned into a smirk. "Might have to wait a few minutes though; we've got company inbound."

Her boyfriend turned around and saw what she'd caught a moment ago; Heero Yuy, heading towards the two of them. They both smiled as the Gundam pilot came up to them.

"Hey, Heero," said Eric, "Everything alright with Wing Zero?"

He nodded. "It's fine. How are your machines?"

"All good," said Eric.

Shemei nodded. "The Judgment's ready as well, Heero. We were about to go grab some food. Do you want to come with us?"

Heero shook his head. "Thanks, but I was planning on grabbing a meal with Murrue later."

Something was up with the young man, Shemei realized. He seemed a bit distracted, and the Valkyrie had a feeling that he had not come over here just to check in on her and Eric's mobile suits.

"What's up, Heero?" she asked, "Something on your mind?"

He nodded. "You could say that. Listen… I need a favor from you."

Her eyes widened slightly at that. It hadn't been what she was expecting. Glancing over at Eric, she saw her lover raise an eyebrow and shrug before smiling again.

Shemei smiled as well as she turned back to Heero. "Name it. After all you've done, you're more than earned the right to favors from me."

"From both of us," said Eric, "You saved the parents of the woman I love, and removed an incredible burden from her shoulders. You helped make her happy again, and I owe you big time for that."

Shemei felt him grab her hand as he spoke, and she could feel a familiar warmth spreading out from her heart at his words. Ever the gentleman, aren't you Eric?, she thought, Valuing my happiness so much, and wanting to repay the one who was so crucial to your plan to free me from the shadows of despair the radicals had cast over me… just another thing about you that I love so dearly.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before returning her gaze to Heero. "If there's anything either of us can do to help you," said Shemei, "you only need to ask."

Heero nodded. "Thank you. I actually just need your help, Shemei. It's… it's for Murrue."

"This sounds pretty personal," said Eric, "I can go if you want."

Heero shook his head, and both the Valkyrie and the Wolf were surprised to see him give them a slight smile. "No… I don't want to make Shemei keep a secret from you. I know how important trust is between you and the person you love. Just as long as you keep this between the three of us, alright?"

Eric nodded and smiled. "No problem."

"So what is it?" asked Shemei, now a little concerned, "Has something happened between you and Murrue? If you need advice, I'll give you whatever I can."

Heero shook his head. "It's nothing like that. I just… I wanted to do something for her, something to make up for all the stress I've put her under recently. My taking the center role in the raid on Aprilius One, my duel with you… I have a lot to make up for, though I know Murrue would never see it like that."

Shemei smiled. "Of course she wouldn't, Heero. The fact that you're safe and with her are all she needs. Murrue knows just how devoted you are to her, how much you love her, and how much you regretted putting her through that kind of anxiety. I'm sure she doesn't want you to throw more guilt on your shoulders."

Heero nodded. "She wouldn't… that's just how she is. I'm grateful for that, I truly am, but I still feel responsible for the distress her heart's gone through recently. I want to make up for it, to do something to take her mind off her worries, if only for a little while."

"Sounds like you want to give her a date night," said Eric, smiling.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" said Shemei, "I imagine it's hard to come up with something good though, isn't it? I mean, considering the circumstances we find ourselves in… warships and derelict colonies don't exactly lend themselves to romance, do they?"

"I know," Heero replied, "It took some doing, but I have a plan to act on now, one that I think Murrue will really like. I just need a little help in pulling it off."

"Well, I'm up for whatever you need," said Shemei, grinning, "What do you have in mind, Heero?"

She and Eric listened as Heero told them his plan, along with what he wanted her to do. Her role in it was actually fairly small, but Shemei could still see why Heero would need her for it.

When Heero finished Shemei nodded and smiled again. "Alright Heero, I'm in. It's a pretty small favor really, especially considering what I owe you."

"It's not small to me," said Heero, "and thanks."

"No problem," she replied, "and I think you're right; Murrue's going to love this, Heero."

The Gundam pilot gave her a small smile. "I hope you're right."

"Count on it," said Shemei, "The fact that you're going to such lengths for her will give it all the more weight once she finds out. Trust me, Heero; you're gonna sweep her off her feet."

"I'll say," said Eric, an amused smile on his face, "and here I thought I was a romantic. You're really going the extra mile with this… and I think I can help you take it a little further."

"You don't need to," said Heero, "I only asked Shemei…"

"I know," said Eric, "but I want to, and in the process I think I can help out the rest of this ship's crew as well."

Shemei was intrigued by his words. "What do you have in mind, dear?"

Eric smiled. "A little something to spice things up a bit…"

Shemei and Heero listened as Eric elaborated on his idea. By the end Shemei was grinning again. "I love it. What do you think, Heero?"

He nodded. "Murrue would like it, and you're right; it would be something the rest of the crew would enjoy as well. How will you set it up though?"

"I'll call Waltfeld a little later," said Eric, "I think this is something he'll take to, and I'm sure the people on the Kusanagi can get behind it as well. It'll be good for everyone in our group."

"A nice bonus," said Shemei, "and as for how this pertains to the date, I have an idea of my own to make it even better for Murrue and Heero."

"Let me guess," said Eric, a knowing look in his eyes, "you're going to ask your mother to help out."

"Yup," Shemei replied, turning to Heero "I know both she and my father are actually quite taken with you; the way you rescued them really made an impression. Mom in particular's become fond of you, in her own way. She worries about you almost as much as she does me."

"Sorry," said Heero, looking down, "I didn't mean to cause your family any concern."

Shemei put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile. "Hey, it's not something you need to apologize for, Heero. My mother loves caring for people, and the way you put yourself in such extreme danger to save her and dad left its mark her. She's just worrying you push yourself too hard, just like she does for me. I think she'll be thrilled to help out with this, Heero."

"Alright," said the Gundam pilot, "and… thanks."

"Anytime," said Shemei, "Do you need any more help from us?"

Heero shook his head. "No. I just need to give Lieutenant Tsukino a heads up. She'll be managing the bridge while this is going on, and I don't want to disrupt things too much."

"Do you think she'll go along with this?" asked Shemei.

Heero nodded. "She's controlled and professional, but at the same time she's also a little more relaxed than Murrue's last XO was. She'll be fine."

"As long as she doesn't tell Murrue," said Shemei, "Can't have her spoiling the surprise, after all."

"She won't," Heero replied, "I'm sure of it."

….

"Ma'am," said Miriallia, "the shuttle from the Eternal has cleared our hangar and is heading home. The craft from the Kusanagi will follow shortly."

Murrue nodded. "Thank you, Miriallia. Have the rations they brought over been transferred to storage yet?"

"Chief Murdoch's crews are working on that now," she replied, "They also had no difficulties in loading our own onto the Orb and PLANT shuttles."

Murrue smiled. "I'm glad things went smoothly. Carry on, Miss Haw."

It was the day after the conference, and Murrue was well into the latter part of her shift on the bridge. The rations transfer that was proceeding had actually been proposed by Eric Bristow as a means of improving meal variety among the vessels of the Three Ships Alliance. It was a measure that Murrue had quickly approved. While all three ships may have been military vessels, and thus hardly carried luxury fare, Murrue knew that there were still differences between the meals offered on each warship, and having a rations swap like this would be good for crew morale as it would offer them more choice in what they ate. The Desert Tiger had even sent over some of his special blends of coffee, and that would be a very welcome reprieve from the very bland brew that the Archangel had in stock.

Though the Archangel had been given provisions during their second stay in Orb to supplement those they had taken on at Alaska prior to the battle there, the food they had been given had been selected specifically to restock the standard Alliance rations the ship carried. Murrue knew that the choice had been made in order to keep things standardized on the ship, though she had to wonder where Orb had gotten access to Alliance-issue rations. The most likely scenario was that they had imported them from the Atlantic Federation back when the two nations had been at peace. Since Orb was a small island nation it was natural that it would import much of its food, though Murrue was sure the country had other sources besides the Atlantic Federation. She had been grateful for the restock, though she had privately lamented that the ship retained its rather limited menu as a result, which was why she was so glad that the Wolf of the Far East had made the proposal to mix up rations among the three ships.

This was a very inspired idea, she thought, I'm very much looking forward to trying some of the new food once Heero gets back from his patrol.

Murrue had worked out the flight schedule for her ship's pilots the day before, and had sent it over to the Eternal along with her supply requisition list and her personal message to her parents. She readily admitted to herself that she had set things up so that she and Heero would share off hours, with his six-hour flight ending at the same time her eight-hour shift on the bridge was coming to a close. It was favoritism that Murrue knew was unbecoming of a Captain, which was why she had also done what she could to make sure that the other pilots that she knew were in relationships or suspected were in the process of building ones with other members of the crew would get some time with the people they cared for as well.

La Flaga's on the earliest flight, she thought, followed up by Bristow. After that comes Heero, then Shemei, and then Dearka gets the tail end of the cycle. Hopefully that's a fair arrangement. None of the pilots have complained yet, so I'll take that as a good sign.

Murrue smiled again as she glanced at her personal monitor, noting the time. Heero was in the final leg of his recon flight now, and he would soon be returning to the Archangel. The young man hadn't reported any problems during his patrol, and had actually been streaming his sensor data to the ship so Murrue and her crew could compile as detailed a map as possible of the debris field. It wasn't perfect by any means given the drifting material, but keeping track of the largest chunks of debris would be very helpful for future patrol flights, and in the event that the group was forced to do battle around Mendel the knowledge of the terrain would be a valuable advantage.

I always feel like I'm giving Heero extra work, she thought, I mean, it was my idea to have him map the area he patrolled during his flight. He does so much for us, but we always ask for more. Still, he approved of the plan, and he didn't seem to view it as an imposition. Then again, he never sees helping me as an imposition.

She considered herself the luckiest woman in the Earth Sphere to have such a thoughtful and devoted boyfriend. Though Heero's insistence on going through with the sword fight with Shemei had caused Murrue no small amount of stress, Murrue had known even before her talk with the Gundam pilot that it hadn't been something he'd done lightly. She knew he regretted the distress he'd put her under, and had forgiven him for it. The way she saw it, Heero had more than made up for it with his vow to her to never do something like that again. Winning the fight was a bonus to her. The fact that Heero had simply survived, unscathed, was more than enough for Murrue.

That's something I more than made clear to him that evening after the fight, she thought, familiar warmth coming to her face, still, knowing Heero, I doubt he's entirely let himself off the hook yet. He probably sees doing this extra work as a way of making things up to me. Oh, Heero… you have nothing to make up to me. Having you in my life, knowing you share the love I have for you… that's all I need.

She returned her attention to the bridge as Miriallia spoke up. "Captain Ramius, Wing Zero is making its approach to Mendel."

Murrue smiled again, and it became even bigger as she saw her personal monitor light up with a notification; Heero was contacting her.

Pressing a key, she watched as the small screen on the arm of her chair shifted, the image becoming that of her boyfriend. He was back to wearing his black flight suit, although he was not wearing his helmet currently. Murrue surmised he had it sitting out of sight near the pilot's chair; she knew he didn't like wearing it on long flights unless he had to.

"Welcome back, Heero," she said, "How was your flight?"

He nodded and gave her a small smile in return. "It was fine, Murrue. No activity to report and I got a fair bit of the debris field mapped in the process. The Zero System really came in handy for tracking the trajectories and locations of all the scrap out there."

"Glad to hear it," said Murrue, "though I hope you didn't wear yourself out in the process. I know how much of a toll that system exerts on you, Heero. Are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine, Murrue," he replied, "but thanks. I appreciate the concern."

"Anytime, dear," said Murrue.

"I'm setting up for final approach to the Archangel," he said, "Listen, Murrue… could you meet me down here? There's… something I need to see you for."

Murrue's expression instantly became one of concern. "What is it? What's the matter, Heero?"

"Nothing's wrong, Murrue," he said, though she could detect a slight nervousness in his tone, "I just need you to come down to the hangar. It's important."

Murrue's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she studied Heero's face. While Murrue was confident that Heero was not lying to her, it was also clear that he was hiding something from her. Whatever it was though, she trusted him to reveal it when they met down in the hangar. Her boyfriend had said that it was important, and that was enough for her.

"Alright, Heero," she said, "I'll be right down. See you soon."

Heero nodded, giving her another small smile. "Thanks, Murrue. I promise I'll explain everything when you get here."

Murrue smiled in return. "I know you will, Heero. I trust you."

The Gundam pilot nodded before signing out.

Murrue got up and turned to her XO. "Lieutenant Tsukino, you have the bridge."

The Orb officer nodded. "Understood, Captain Ramius."

Murrue then made her way towards the bridge exit. Sparing a glance over her shoulder, she could see Wing Zero out the main viewport making its final approach to the Archangel's hangar. I hope you're ok, my love, she thought, Whatever you need me for, I promise I'll be there. I'm on my way, Heero.

She made her exit from the bridge, and as soon as she was out the door she moved as quickly as she could through the ship's corridors. Even though Heero had told her that nothing was wrong, Murrue couldn't help but feel nervous. It was understandable, given how unforthcoming her boyfriend had been regarding the reason why he wanted her to come down to the hangar.

Within minutes she was heading down the final leg of her trip to the hangar. As she moved down the hall she saw Shemei leaning against the wall by the door to the pilots' locker room. She was dressed in her custom flight suit, helmet cradled in her left arm. The Valkyrie smiled as Murrue drew near, and there was something odd about the woman's demeanor. To Murrue, it felt as if the Egyptian pilot was expecting her.

Murrue gave her a nod in greeting, but as she tried to move past her the Valkyrie grabbed her by the arm. "Whoa there, Murrue," she said, "No need to rush."

Murrue sighed. "Shemei, please let go of me. I need to get into the hangar. Heero called me on the bridge; he needs to see me."

"I know," said Shemei, "I'm here because of that."

Murrue was taken aback by her words. "What do you mean?"

"It's a favor," she said, "one I'm doing for Heero… and for you. Come with me, Murrue."

Murrue hesitated for a moment. Her primary instinct was to continue on to the hangar, and it was not one she had abandoned quite yet.

Then Shemei gave her a warm smile. "Murrue, trust me. I promise everything will be made clear to you soon. I meant it when I said that I'm doing this for Heero. He wanted me to be here to meet you, Murrue."

Murrue nodded. "Alright… lead on, Shemei."

The Valkyrie nodded. "This way."

She opened the door to the locker room and went inside, with Murrue following behind her. As the door closed Shemei went over to one of the storage compartments and pulled out a standard issue white spacesuit. "There," she said, "this ought to be your size." She turned to Murrue and tossed her the suit. "Put it on."

Murrue's eyes widened as she caught the suit. This certainly wasn't something she had been expecting. She looked at the Valkyrie, who gave a small laugh. "What's the matter, Murrue? You've worn one of these before, haven't you?"

Murrue nodded. "Yes, but it's been a long time since then. I haven't worn one since my days on Heliopolis."

"Don't worry," said Shemei, "I'll help if you need it."

Reassured, though still confused at the strange turn of events, Murrue put on the spacesuit. It was rough going for a little bit due to her not having worn one for so long, but she remembered enough to get it on and secured properly without assistance from Shemei.

As she finished up she looked at the Valkyrie, who tossed her a helmet. "You won't need it yet," said Shemei, "but you might later. All set?"

"I suppose," said Murrue, cradling the helmet in her left arm, "you still haven't told me what this is all about, Shemei."

"It's not my place to," she replied, "that's for Heero to do. Speaking of which, we should get going; he's probably ready for us by now."

Murrue nodded. "If you say so."

Shemei smiled and winked. "Trust me, Murrue. You're in for quite a treat."

Murrue followed Shemei over towards the entrance to the hangar. She watched as the Valkyrie checked a small monitor by the door. "Just as I expected," said Shemei, "Wing Zero's already landed, and the atmosphere's been vented back into the hangar. Right on schedule. Come on, we don't want to keep your lover boy waiting."

"I never intended to," said Murrue, "this little diversion was your doing."

"At Heero's request," Shemei reminded her, "timing is everything, as they say… especially in romance."

Is that what this is about?, thought Murrue, What's going on?

The door opened, and Shemei grabbed Murrue by the arm and pulled her along with her into the hangar. Murrue instantly spotted Wing Zero and tried to move towards it, but she was stopped by Shemei.

"Hey there," said Shemei, looking over her shoulder, "I know you're eager, and I can understand that, but go with me on this. Alright?"

Murrue sighed. "Fine, but Heero said it was important that I see him, and I need to get to him now."

"I know that," said Shemei, grinning, "and I think it's great that you're so concerned about him, but you won't find him with Wing Zero."

"What?" said Murrue, now more confused than ever.

"You'll see," said Shemei, giggling.

Looking past the Valkyrie, Murrue saw where she was leading her; towards the Tallgeese Kai. She could see Heero and La Flaga floating by the machine's open cockpit, apparently going over something.

"Hey, guys," yelled Shemei as she and Murrue approached, "the lady of the hour's here!"

The two pilots turned towards them as Murrue and Shemei made their way up to their level. La Flaga gave a smile and a wave, while Heero looked at Murrue. His gaze met hers, and Murrue could tell that he was a little nervous. He gave her a small smile as she drew near.

"Well," said La Flaga, "my work's done here." He looked at Murrue and Heero and grinned. "Have fun, you two!"

Murrue raised an eyebrow, and the Hawk of Endymion chuckled as he headed off towards the hangar exit. She then turned back to her boyfriend and the Valkyrie. "Alright, I was promised an explanation. Heero, what's going on?"

Her boyfriend nodded. "Murrue, I'm sorry for not being forthcoming to you about this, but… well, I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you've certainly succeeded there," she replied, "but you haven't answered my question."

"I know," Heero replied. He moved close to her and took her hand in his. "Murrue," he said as his eyes met hers, "I… I want to take you out. On a date."

Murrue's eyes widened and she felt her heartbeat increase considerably. "A date?"

"It's something I've heard couples do," said Shemei, smirking.

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, Shemei," said Murrue, keeping her eyes on Heero, "Heero, that's what this is all about?"

Heero nodded, once again giving her one of those small smiles of his. "Murrue, I haven't gone out with you since our first stop in Orb. Even then, though I know I asked you out, I felt like you were the one treating me. I didn't have any money to pay for anything that night, and…"

"Heero," said Murrue, smiling as she squeezed his hand, "I never cared that you couldn't pay for anything. All that mattered to me was that you wanted to go on those outings with me, and that we enjoyed them together. You know that, my love."

"Still," said Heero, "I didn't feel entirely right about it… so I'm going to do it properly this time. I'm treating you, Murrue; this whole thing is on me." He glanced over at Shemei. "Well, I and those I asked to help out with it."

Murrue followed his gaze, and the Valkyrie gave them both a small smile. "Look," she said, "I know the two of you don't like to think of me as in your debt… but I am, and more than I could ever properly put into words. You saved my parents, and me in the process. I'll never forget that, and I want to show you two just how much that means to me."

"Heero's the one that saved your parents, Shemei," said Murrue, "not me."

"Maybe not directly," said Shemei, "but Murrue, you and I both know that the Archangel was vital to the operation, especially in the final part. It's the most powerful warship in the Earth Sphere, and the cover fire it gave us as we made our run from the PLANTs could not be matched. It helped us get out of there, it saved us… you saved us, Murrue."

"You're giving me too much credit," said Murrue, flushing slightly at the praise.

"No, I'm not," said Shemei, "I know you have a skilled and courageous crew, Murrue, but what truly makes them formidable, along with the Archangel, is your leadership. You're strong, intelligent, brave… and most importantly of all, compassionate. You care about your crew, Murrue, and you do everything in your power to look after them. You can't protect them completely, of course; the battlefield's a dangerous and unpredictable place, after all. Still, that doesn't change the fact that you're devoted to the well being of those that fight under you, and they recognize that. They're loyal to you because they know that you won't risk their lives without a good reason, that you would not order them to take part in atrocities… and that you have the courage to fight for what is right. It's because of that loyalty you've inspired in them that they're so effective in battle, that they're able to challenge odds that would be impossible for any other crew. You've led them since ZAFT's attack on Heliopolis with courage, cunning, and devotion, and you brought all of that to the table in the raid on the PLANTs."

Shemei once again looked between Murrue and Heero. "That's why, when Heero asked me to help him with this, I didn't hesitate. I want to help him and you in any way I can, and this is something I know that you both need. More than that, it's something you both deserve."

Murrue had to smile at her words. "Thank you, Shemei."

She then turned back to Heero. "I know you said you wanted to treat me, Heero, and that you felt bad about not being able to do so back in Orb… but there's more to this than that, isn't there? I know you, Heero; something else is bothering you."

He nodded and gave her a small smile. "You know, your perception truly is incredible, Murrue."

Murrue gave a small laugh before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Like I said, I know you, my love. Now please, tell me what's on your mind… what's in your heart."

Heero sighed. "Murrue… I know I've put you under a lot of stress over these past two weeks, far more than you deserved. The raid on the PLANTs, my duel with Shemei… I know all the danger that put upon my troubled you greatly. I've apologized before, but it still doesn't feel like nearly enough; I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for putting you through all that."

"Oh, Heero," said Murrue, bringing her hand up to his cheek, "you know I don't want you to beat yourself up with all this, right? Yes, I was distressed by your decision to take the lead role in the attack on Avalon, along with your choice to fight Shemei with actual blades, but I also understood why you had to do it, and I supported you in both those endeavors, Heero. I may have had my fears, but those were only born from the love I have for you and my desire to see you safe and sound. Both those incidents are now behind us, Heero… and I've already forgiven you for the fear and pain they caused me."

Heero nodded. "I know, but still… I want to make it up to you, Murrue. What I did yesterday, asking Waltfeld to let you send a message to your parents… that was part of that, but I knew it wasn't enough. Not to me, anyway." He smiled. "I want to make you happy, Murrue. That means more to me than I could ever hope to tell you. I want to take away your fear and pain, to ease your concerns, any way I can. I know that you're under a lot of pressure, trying to keep everyone under your command alive, and that's not going to be easy with the odds we're throwing ourselves against. I want to help take some of that pressure, that burden, off your shoulders, even if I can only do it for a little while."

He looked up at the Tallgeese Kai before turning back to her. "So, Murrue… want to go for a ride?"

Murrue smiled before taking him into a deep kiss. As their lips parted she spoke. "I'd love to, Heero."

Before going to the Tallgeese Kai, the two of them turned to Shemei, who had been patiently standing nearby. "Shemei," said Murrue, "thank you."

"Yeah," said Heero.

"Anytime, you two," the Valkyrie replied, "and it's not just because I owe you. You're both my friends, and I never turn down friends in need."

Shemei grinned. "Now, if you two lovebirds will excuse me, I've got a mobile suit to get to. I am scheduled to fly right now, after all. I'll see you out there!"

As the Valkyrie headed off towards the Judgment, Murrue turned back to Heero. The Gundam pilot nodded towards the Tallgeese Kai. "Shall we?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Murrue.

She continued to hold his hand as he took her over to the machine's cockpit. "Heero," she said, "please, forgive me if this sounds rude, but… why the Tallgeese Kai? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to get the chance to fly with you, but why not your own mobile suit?"

"The Zero System," Heero replied, "It's true that I can control it just fine with passengers, but… Murrue, I want to focus on you. I don't want to split my attention between being with you and asserting dominance over the Zero System. This isn't a combat flight, it's a date, and the Zero System has no place here. I don't want it to be here. I want this to be about us… about you."

"Heero…" said Murrue, touched by her boyfriend's devotion. She smiled even as she felt her face flush red. "Thank you, Heero." Her smile then became playful. "Just don't forget about your flying. The Tallgeese Kai may not be Wing Zero, but from what I've heard from La Flaga and what you told me about the original unit I know it's still a tricky machine to pilot."

"Don't worry," said Heero, "I swear I won't put you at risk, Murrue."

"I know you won't, Heero," she replied, "I have faith in you."

"Thank you," said Heero, giving her a small smile, "now, let's get going. I told you I wanted to take you out, and I'm going to do that right now."

With that the Gundam pilot pulled her into the mobile suit's cockpit. "Uhm, Heero?" said Murrue, looking around the confined space as the Perfect Soldier took his seat, "Where should I squeeze into?"

The young man looked down for a moment, and when he met Murrue's gaze again she could've sworn she saw just a hint of red in his face. "If it's alright with you… on my lap, Murrue. You'll be more secure that way than you would along the side of the seat. There's room on either side if you'd be more comfortable there, but… well, I'll be better able to maneuver the machine if you're in the seat with me. If you're off to the side, I can't take the Tallgeese through some of the maneuvers I was planning on… I won't be able to make the ride as exciting."

Murrue smiled and laughed. "Well, we can't have that now, can we?" She settled in on his lap and glanced back at him. "Are you sure I'm not going to block your view?" she asked as she settled in.

Heero shook his head. "I can see just fine over your shoulder."

"Good," said Murrue, "should I put my helmet on?"

"Not yet," Heero replied, "Just put it on the floor for now. You'll need it later on though; we won't be spending the entire date in here."

"You mean we're going extravehicular later?" she said, her eyes widening, "I haven't done that since Heliopolis!"

Heero nodded. "While I was out on patrol earlier, I found a spot that I think you'll like. We'll exit the mobile suit there. Of course, we have to get there first."

With that he closed the hatch and began powering up the machine. Murrue could feel her heart race as the screens lit up around her. Her first mobile suit flight had been in the Strike with Kira during ZAFT's attack on Heliopolis, and that had hardly been a pleasant experience. This, though, promised to be something truly special.

For months now, she thought, smiling as she watched her boyfriend run through the preflight checks, I've wondered what it's like for Heero when he flies. This may not be Wing Zero, but it is a mobile suit, and one based on a unit from his world at that. I'll finally get to see what he sees; feel what he feels… experience flying from his perspective!

"Alright," said Heero, "we're all set. I'm moving us to the launch area."

The young man put his hands on the control sticks, and Murrue could feel the mobile suit move forward. The sensation reminded her of her experience on the Strike all those months ago, but while she had barely been able to keep the machine upright Heero was moving the Tallgeese Kai with practiced ease. The units footsteps fell in steady, rhythmic thuds as it made its way toward the hangar bay doors, quite unlike the frantic, unbalanced steps of the Strike during that hectic incident at Heliopolis.

Acting instinctively, Murrue put her hands over Heero's. When she realized what she was doing she feared that she might interfere with Heero's control over the machine. She started to remove her hands, but she was stopped by Heero.

"No," he said, "keep them there." When she looked over her shoulder at him, he gave her a small nod and a smile. "It's alright, Murrue."

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Ok, my love."

Eventually they made it to the designated launch area for the portside exit. Murrue briefly lifted her hand to allow Heero to use the communications system. "This is Tallgeese Kai," he said, "we're ready to launch."

Murrue watched as Miriallia's face appeared on the screen. Her eyes widened as she saw the mobile suit's occupants. "Heero? Captain Ramius? What are you two doing in La Flaga's machine?"

"It's alright, Miss Haw," came another female voice, and the image of Murrue's new XO joined the Orb student's on the screen, "carry on with your duties." She smiled at Heero and Murrue. "This is just a bit of recreation, one that they've both more than earned."

"Lieutenant?" said Murrue, raising an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you're in on this too?"

Lieutenant Tsukino shrugged, her smile becoming a smirk. "Very well, Captain. I won't tell you. Enjoy yourselves, you two! Tsukino out."

Her face vanished from the screen, leaving just Miriallia. "Alright," she said, still struggling to adjust to the unusual events unfolding around her, "I'm opening the bay doors now. The Judgment's already launched out the starboard exit and has cleared the colony, so you won't have any traffic to worry about."

"Thank you, Miss Haw," said Murrue.

"Sure," she replied, "uhm... take care out there, you two."

"Don't worry," said Heero, "we will. I won't let anything happen to Murrue."

Murrue squeezed his hand. I know you won't, Heero, she thought, I believe in you.

Miriallia smiled. "Roger that, Heero. Tallgeese Kai, you're clear for launch!"

….

(Start "Time Stand Still")

Gripping the controls, Murrue's hands over his, Heero gunned the engines. The powerful vernier thrusters roared to life, and the Tallgeese Kai rocketed out of the hangar.

"Whoa!" cried Murrue, the force of the acceleration pressing her back into Heero.

"It's alright," said Heero, attempting to reassure the woman he loved, "don't be afraid, Murrue."

She looked over her shoulder at him, and the Gundam pilot was relieved to see that fear was the last thing on her face. Rather, her expression was one of excitement… and joy.

"I'm not afraid, Heero," she replied, a radiant smile on her face, her eyes aglow with affection, "How can I be afraid when I'm with you? I just didn't think the engines would be so powerful!"

Heero nodded, his confidence bolstered by her words and what he saw in her eyes. He gave her a small smile, all the while minding his flying. "Hang on. We're just getting warmed up."

Already well clear of the colony, Heero took the Tallgeese Kai into a climb. Ever mindful of his passenger, he made sure to handle to machine's engines with the utmost care in order to avoid any potential harm to Murrue.

His eyes narrowing, he flew the mobile suit along the length of the Mendel colony, making sure to keep well above the surface in order to avoid the occasional bits of debris that jutted upward from the scarred habitat. He weaved through a gentle series of turns, maintaining an expert balance between speed and stability, minimizing the G-forces exerted on his passenger.

Soon the colony's large, tattered solar energy collection panel was rapidly approaching. Rather than pull up though, Heero set his sights on one of the large, gaping holes in the panel. He felt Murrue's hands grip the tops of his tightly, but she didn't cry out in fear or protest.

She trusts me with her life, he thought, amazed and emboldened by the faith she had in him, and I'm not about to let her down now!

"Here we go," he said.

"Let's do it!" cried Murrue. Heero couldn't spare a look at her face at the moment, but he was sure she was smiling.

Making the final adjustments to his heading, Heero increased the acceleration slightly and flew towards the hole. Maneuvering the Tallgeese Kai with pinpoint precision, the Gundam pilot threaded the proverbial needle perfectly, passing through the exact center of the opening. The instant he cleared it he pulled the mobile suit up, and he began to climb away from the colony.

"Incredible!" said Murrue, and Heero could hear the thrill in her voice.

"We're not done yet," said Heero, smiling slightly.

"I hope not!" said Murrue, looking over her shoulder and smiling at Heero, "This is amazing! I never knew flying could be like this!"

"Well," said Heero as he adjusted his course and leveling out, "I did say I was going to take you for a ride, didn't I?"

Murrue responded with a quick kiss on the cheek. "Yes, you did, my love."

With that, the Perfect Soldier took the Tallgeese Kai into a section of the debris field that he knew was the least dangerous part of the area. Most of the floating chunks of metal were widely spaced and clearly visible, though there was always the occasional small bits of space junk to worry about.

Heero smirked as he brought the mobile suit's beam rifle up and began selecting targets. "How about some fireworks, Murrue?"

"What?" she replied, her eyes widening, "How?"

"Like this," said Heero as he opened fire. A flurry of emerald beams spewed forth as Heero swept the gun across the sky, turning floating chunks of debris into impromptu firecrackers. A string of small explosions lit up the space around them.

"Nice shooting!" said Murrue.

"You want to try?" asked Heero.

Murrue looked at him, her eyes widening again. "What? You really…"

Heero nodded and gave her a small smile. "I'll keep flying and select targets, Murrue. All you have to do is pull the trigger."

Murrue smiled, clearly thrilled at the suggestion. "Alright. Let's do it, Heero!"

As he set up for a run, Heero guided Murrue's hand down towards the trigger. "Get ready," he said, "I'll let you know when to shoot."

She nodded. "Ok. I'm ready, Heero."

Making adjustments to his heading and weaving through a few large slabs of metal, Heero sighted in on the first target. "Fire, Murrue."

She did so, and with his hand guiding her aim the emerald beam hit its target dead center, destroying it.

"Yes," said Murrue, "We did it!"

"Focus," Heero gently chided her, "our next one's coming up."

He felt her lean forward in her seat, her gaze intent on the screen. "Alright," she said, "just tell me when."

Taking the Tallgeese Kai beneath a piece of debris, he brought the rifle to bear on the target. "Now."

Murrue pulled the trigger, and the shot turned the chunk of debris into a piñata.

"Good shot," said Heero, smiling.

"Oh, please," said Murrue, smiling as well, "you know I'm only hitting them because of you."

"You're still the one pulling the trigger," Heero reminded her, "I may be the one setting things up, but timing's still important here, and yours is right on."

"Thanks," she replied, a fierce gleam in her eyes, "So, do you have any more lined up for me? Come on, Heero, we can't stop now!"

She's really getting into this, he thought, she's enjoying herself… and that's exactly what I want.

Heero nodded. "Trust me, there's plenty more to come, Murrue. Are you ready?"

"You know it," she replied, "Let me at them!"

Heero chuckled. "You got it."

Weaving back and forth through space, Heero continued to set up targets for Murrue, who proceeded to take them down the instant he gave the word. Occasionally he would deploy the unit's Planet Defensors to deflect a few bits of debris, but for the most part he relied on the machine's maneuverability and his skills to avoid damage. It was a challenge, flying the Tallgeese Kai with a passenger and designating targets without actually being the one to take them down, but it was one that Heero didn't mind in the least. Every so often he would glance at Murrue and see her smiling face, her lovely brown eye radiating excitement and joy, and each time he did he could feel the warmth flowing through him from his heart.

Murrue was happy. She was having fun. All the fears and worries that had plagued her for so long had been completely cast aside, lost in the thrill of the moment. As Heero took her through the debris field, guiding her hand as she destroyed target after target, he could tell that the burdens of command that had weighed so heavily on her shoulders since the attack on Heliopolis so long ago had been totally swept away. Murrue seemed light, at ease, all her concerns left behind. Nothing was weighing her down; she was free.

And so was Heero.

Seeing her like this was all that mattered to him. As he continued to fly the Tallgeese Kai, setting up targets and watching Murrue destroy them, he could feel the guilt he had been tormenting himself with for the past few days completely dissipate. Here and now, Murrue was not plagued by fear and concern for him, not worried for his safety. Her heart was light, full of wonder, joy, and affection… and so was Heero's. Through acting like this, with only Murrue's happiness as his concern, Heero was happy as well, his heart radiating a joy he had so rarely felt in his life… and only with the woman he loved.

Before I came to this world, he thought, before I met Murrue… I never dared imagine I could feel anything approaching this. I didn't feel that I was worthy of such happiness, not after what I had done. Murrue, though… she did believe that I deserved it, even after I told her about my past, my sins. She wanted to help me since almost the moment I met her, and as we grew closer and began to understand each other she sought my happiness, even in the midst of the struggle she was to protect her crew. It was because of that compassion that I was able to open up to her… and fall in love with her. Thanks to her, I found the strength to truly move forward, beyond my past. I found the strength, the will, to try and seek out my own happiness… and I found it with her.

Even in the midst of his heartfelt thoughts though, the Gundam pilot did not lose track of the situation. His control over the Tallgeese Kai remained precise, his determination to keep Murrue safe unwavering even as he gave her a date like no other, flying through the debris field and shooting up targets with the beam rifle. As he gave her targets to destroy and guided her aim, he was constantly making adjustments to the acceleration of the Tallgeese Kai in order to spare his passenger the punishing force the thrusters could exert if not handled with care. Just as he had done so with the Valkyrie's parents during the escape from the PLANTs, the Gundam pilot walked his tightrope, keeping balance with all the considerable skill he had acquired over his career as a pilot.

Eventually they took down the last target that Heero had designated, and the young man knew it was time for the next part of their date. "How was that?" he asked.

Murrue turned to him and smiled. "That was unbelievable, Heero! I've never done anything like that before." She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You're amazing, Heero. There truly is no other man in the Earth Sphere like you."

Heero once again felt a familiar heat rush to his space, a warmth that only Murrue could inspire within him. "Thank you, Murrue,"

"You are very welcome, my love," she replied, "So, what's next? More targets?"

Heero shook his head. "No, I've got something else in mind. Hang on tight."

As her hands squeezed his, Heero gave the throttle a little more juice. The Gundam pilot took the mobile suit into a climb, racing higher and higher through the debris field like a bird attempting to escape the jungle canopy.

"Where are we going, Heero?" asked Murrue, the acceleration once again pushing her back into him. Her breathing was a little faster, but it wasn't labored, and Heero could tell it was from excitement rather than any stress from the vernier engines.

"You'll see," said Heero, juking and jinking around chunks of scrap metal.

(End "Time Stand Still")

A few seconds later the Tallgeese Kai finally cleared the debris field and came out into the glorious expanse of outer space. Leveling out the mobile suit, Heero set the machine down on a large slab of metal floating at the apex of the field. He then reached down and grabbed his helmet. Putting it on, he then grabbed Murrue's and handed it to her.

"Here," he said, "I'll make sure it's secure."

Murrue nodded and smiled. "Alright, Heero."

As she put it on the Perfect Soldier reached down and grabbed two lengths of cord and a pair of buckles he had asked La Flaga to stow under the seat. Retrieving them, he attached one to the utility belt of Murrue's space suit and the other to his own. He then ran the first cord through both buckles and tied them together, securing himself to Murrue. Then Heero took the second cord and tied one end to himself and the other to the pilot's chair.

Making sure all the cords were tied tight, Heero then turned to Murrue and examined her helmet seals.

"Everything good?" she asked.

Heero nodded. "You're all set."

"Here," she said, turning around to face him, "let me check yours."

Heero did as she told him to. While he was confident that he was fully secured, he wasn't about to stop Murrue from double checking. It was a sign of her concern for him, how much she cared about him, and it meant a lot to Heero. It may have been a small thing when compared to everything else they had done together as they had grown closer and eventually became a couple, but to Heero even those little things had importance, because they were with the woman he loved.

"Looks good," said Murrue after a moment, "Are you ready?"

"Hang on a second," Heero replied, double checking his suit's utility belt to make sure that he had his magnetic grappling gun. It would be a lifesaver if something went wrong with the cord that would be tethering him and Murrue to the Tallgeese Kai.

Satisfied that the tool was there and in working order, Heero then proceeded to turn on the radio in his helmet. Tuning it to Murrue's frequency, he spoke. "Do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," she replied.

Heero nodded and then hit a key on one of the control pads. There was a brief hiss as the oxygen in the cockpit was cycled into the storage tanks, and then the mobile suit's hatch opened.

"Alright," said Heero, "let's go."

Murrue stood up and move to the side, allowing Heero to get up. Taking her hand, he led her out onto the open hatch... where they were treated to one hell of a view.

Over his helmet's radio he heard Murrue gasp. "This is… beautiful."

It was a sentiment Heero certainly couldn't argue with. From their vantage point they could take in the entire debris field as the distant sunlight hit it. The graveyard of the old L4 colonies seemed to take on a new life, with every bit of metal below them gleaming as the sun's rays hit them. The sole intact colony was no exception, with its pockmarked solar energy collection panel shimmering in the sunlight. It turned what would normally be a very grim part of the Earth Sphere into something more bittersweet, a reminder of past prosperity and glory, a shadow of its former self but still holding a bit of the better times it had once seen. Viewed from their high perch, the debris field seemed to be reborn by the sunlight as drifted through outer space.

The vast field of shining metal was hardly the only wonder Heero and Murrue could see from their vantage point. Floating beyond it was the blue and green gem that was the Earth. The sun's rays lit up the planet even more splendidly than they did the debris field. Daylight was currently over the Western Hemisphere, which meant that Heero had a clear view of Murrue's homeland.

He glanced to his right, concerned for a moment that the sight of her country of birth might have an ill affect on Murrue in light of her recent actions. However, he was relieved to see that his fears were misplaced. Even through the helmet's visor Heero could see the joy and wonder radiating from Murrue's eyes as she looked out upon the incredible view, her world and their temporary home in the scrap field aglow in sunlight.

Rounding out the breathtaking vista was the Moon. Far to the 'left' of L4, Luna reflected the sun's rays as brilliantly as the bits of metal floating through space and the Earth itself, shining like a beacon. It was nearly full, or at least it appeared that way from Heero and Murrue's vantage point, and the young man could only wonder what it looked like from the surface at this moment.

Forming the backdrop for all of this was, of course, the stars. They seemed to go on forever, a vast ocean of sparkling pinpricks of light. The tiny specks seemed to enhance the scene in their own subtle way, their twinkling beacons supplementing the burning majesty of Sol and the more subdued and cool Luna.

To Heero though, all that paled in comparison to the woman standing next to him. To see Murrue with him, taking in the glorious view in awe, was a more beautiful sight than anything else in the Earth Sphere. To look upon her and see her like this, smiling radiantly as she beheld the splendor of outer space, her happiness shining in her eyes as a light more powerful than the sun itself… that was all Heero needed. It was why he had set this up to begin with, why he was so devoted to her well-being, both physically and emotionally.

For Heero, seeing the woman he loved like this, aglow with joy and wonder, free from all her doubts and fears… that meant everything to him. It made every struggle he had gone through, in both this world and his old one, completely worth it. He would undertake them all again in a heartbeat… just to see her smile like she was doing now.

"Heero," said Murrue, grabbing his hand and turning towards him, "This is amazing. I never imagined there could be a view like this in such place. Thank you so much for taking me out here!"

He nodded and gave her a small smile. "Anytime, Murrue."

She leaned forward, pressing her helmet against his as she took him into an embrace. "I can't exactly kiss you right now," she said, her smile becoming playful as her eyes met his, "so this will have to do."

"It's more than enough, Murrue," he replied.

Murrue shook her head. "No it's not, not even close." She reached out with her arms, gesturing at the grand vista before them. She smiled again, affection and gratitude radiating from her face. "Heero, no one's ever done anything like this for me. I know I told you about my past relationships before, and while I've had my share of dates, they were fairly standard affairs. They were nice, but… none of them had nearly as much thought involved in them as this. There wasn't anywhere near the level of effort you put into this."

"Murrue…" said Heero softly, stunned by her praise.

"Heero," said Murrue, grabbing both his hands and once again pressing her helmet to his, "this is wonderful… you are wonderful. I never dreamed I would have anything near this sort of experience with someone. Don't get me wrong; I loved our first date in Orb, along with all the outings we had afterwards during our stopover in that country. I enjoyed each and every one of them, and will treasure the memories we created with them forever… but this blows all of them completely away. You… you truly are an incredible young man, Heero."

Heero looked down for a moment before meeting her gaze again, giving her another small smile. "Murrue… the only reason I am who I am today is because of you. Meeting you and getting to know you were the best things that could ever have happened to me. Getting closer to you, falling in love with you… it changed me, Murrue, and I know it's been for the better. I've learned so much in my time with you, experienced so much, felt emotions that I never believed I could feel, that I thought I did not deserve to feel. It's only thanks to you that I've been able to evolve beyond who I was at the end of my old war, to become more than a soldier who could only feel purpose on the battlefield. I may have entered your world in a time of conflict, but in the midst of this war I've been able to find comfort, peace, love… and I found them with you."

Even through the helmet visor Heero could see Murrue's face flush with praise. "Heero… you're giving me far too much credit. You've always been an amazing person. You just didn't let yourself see you that way. You kept burdening yourself with guilt, torturing yourself over past mistakes… I couldn't just stand by and watch you do that, Heero. I would've given anything to pull you away from that, to make you see yourself as I see you. Even in our early days, I could tell that you were someone special. As I got to know you, as you told me about your past, I saw just how special you were even before you came to our world. I wanted to show you that, to help you understand that you were not the monster you made yourself out to be."

"And you did, Murrue," Heero replied, "It's true that I still hold myself responsible for my past misdeeds. That girl and her dog, Noventa and the Alliance peace faction… I can't take back what I did to them, no matter how much I may want to. I can't change the past… but I can accept it and move forward, and that's only because of you, Murrue. While I may have begun to come to peace with that happened to Noventa and the other Alliance pacifists before I came to this world, the same could not be said of the destruction of that residential block and the deaths of all the people living there. The memory of that still haunted me, still tore at my heart… as you found out all too well."

"I know," said Murrue softly, "I can still hear your cry in my dreams, still see the anguish in your eyes. Seeing you suffer like that, tormenting yourself so brutally… I couldn't allow it, Heero. I refused to let you keep torturing yourself like that, and I'm not going to let you go back there."

"You haven't, Murrue," said Heero, "You saved me from myself… you've protected me from the enemy I didn't know how to fight; the demons of my past. It's because of your understanding, your compassion, that I've been able to come to terms with what happened that night two years ago. It's not something I'll ever be able to forget, and I'll always regret it… but I'm able to live with the memory without it consuming me, Murrue, and I have you to thank for that. Yes, it was a terrible tragedy, a horrendous loss of life… but it no longer haunts my dreams the way it once did. The knowledge that you're willing to accept me, to love me even after I told you what I'd done, the sins I'd committed… that saved me, Murrue, in a way I can't begin to describe."

He turned and nodded towards the view of the debris field, the Earth, and the Moon. "I think that's part of why I wanted to give you this. What you've done for me, Murrue… you deserve to have someone go the extra mile, to give you a date like this. You've always deserved it, even before you gave me comfort and shelter from my past sins. You're a phenomenal woman, Murrue, and I want to do everything in my power to show you that, to prove, if only to myself, that I'm worthy of the love you've given me."

Murrue responded by pulling him into as tight a hug as she could with her spacesuit. "Heero," she said as she held him, "you have always been worthy of my love." She pulled back far enough to meet his gaze while still keeping her arms around him. "Never doubt that for a moment. You got that?"

He nodded and smiled. "Roger that."

Murrue smiled as well, and once again the two of them turned to observe the magnificent vista before them. Squeezing her hand, Heero felt an incredible sense of contentment, of peace, of happiness flowing out from his heart. All his troubles, all his concerns regarding the terrible conflict that they found themselves fighting so hard to end… none of them existed at this moment. Here and now, floating hand-in-hand with the woman he loved, admiring the Earth Sphere that they called home… he was free.

They both were.

A flash of blue light caught his eye. A split second later Murrue also took notice. "Look," she said, pointing at the blue dot as it weaved its way through the debris field, "that must be one of our pilots."

Heero nodded. "Probably Shemei, judging by the flight pattern. All those sudden twists and turns… she's deliberately moving through the thicker parts of the debris field."

"She sure is a thrill seeker," said Murrue, shaking her head. Heero glanced at her and saw she had an amused smile on her face. "I'm sure she doesn't want to worry Bristow, but she still can't turn down a good rush."

"Probably why she became a pilot in the first place," said Heero as he watched the beacon that was the Judgment's thruster-wash move through the scattered chunks of metal, "as for Bristow, the Judgment's Phase Shift Armor can give him some comfort. Hitting debris won't be a serious threat to Shemei, something I'm sure he's aware of. Still, regardless of Shemei's skill or her protection, I'm sure Bristow worries for her." He turned to Murrue. "I know I would if you flew like that."

"Imagine how I feel," said Murrue, "watching you fly into battle. It doesn't matter how much faith I have in your skills, or how strong Wing Zero is… I'll never be at ease when you're in danger, Heero."

Heero nodded. "I know... I'm sorry, Murrue. I feel the same way about you. The Archangel may be an incredibly tough warship, and you're the best Captain I've ever seen, but that doesn't change the fact that I still fear for your safety in battle."

"Heero…" said Murrue softly, "I… I'm grateful to hear that. Still, you're duties are much more dangerous than mine. No to mention the burden you carry with the Zero System…"

"Don't worry, Murrue," said Heero, "I can keep that concern from interfering with my control over the system; I have the focus I need to do that. I also made that vow to you back in Orb to never lose control of the Zero System again, and it's one I won't break."

"I know you won't, Heero," said Murrue, smiling, "We'll both just have to believe in each other when we go into combat, and do all we can to support each other. It's no different than what we've been doing all this time."

Heero nodded. "Yeah… except that the stakes are higher for us now. Not just due to the enemies we face… but because of our feelings for each other. We may have loved each other long before my confession a week and a half ago, but now we're open about our feelings, actually in a relationship. That makes the danger we place ourselves in even more acute, more heartfelt… something I know you've experienced firsthand over these past few days."

"Yes," said Murrue, "Avalon, the duel… I've already told you how much it hurt to see you in such danger, Heero. However, I've also accepted that pain, that distress. If I could feel completely at ease when you put yourself at risk… well, then I couldn't say that I truly loved you then, could I? These are natural feelings, Heero, especially for people who care about each other as deeply as you and I do. We just have to be aware of them, and make sure that they don't distract us." She gave his hand a squeeze as she smiled again. "We'll keep our faith in each other, Heero. That will get us through this."

Heero gave her a small smile in return. "Yeah… you're right, Murrue."

The two of them then turned back to admiring the view for a few minutes, a comfortable and content silence falling over them. There was no need for words now; they'd said everything they'd needed to. Now they simply lost themselves in the peace and tranquility of the sunlit debris field, the glowing Earth, fiery Sol, sublime Luna, and the shimmering stars. Sharing it all with the one they loved was all that mattered.

However, they could not stay out there forever. The amount of oxygen carried in their suits was not infinite, after all. More to the point, Heero had taken Murrue on this outing right after both his and her shifts had ended, which meant both of them had not eaten anything in quite some time.

In other words, it was dinner time… and Heero had something special in the works for Murrue, thanks to help from Bristow and the Valkyrie's mother.

It'll be ready soon, he thought, running through the loose time table he'd set out in his head, and Murrue could definitely use a bite to eat. Time to get a move on.

Heero gave Murrue's hand another squeeze, gently pulling her back towards the cockpit of the Tallgeese Kai. "Come on, Murrue," he said, "we should get back. I know you haven't said anything, but by now I'm sure you're hungry."

Murrue nodded. "I am, but still… this is such an incredible view. It's hard to let it go."

"I know," said Heero, "it really is something else. Still, you need to keep up your strength, and that means meals when you can take them."

"You're right," she said, smiling, "and besides, I've been itching to try out some of the new rations that were shipped over today. I was actually just thinking of those before you contacted me when you were coming back from patrol, in fact."

"All the more reason to head back," he said as he pulled her towards the mobile suit, "however… we won't be eating in the mess."

Murrue raised an eyebrow at his words, and Heero smirked. "We'll head to the officers' lounge when we get back… and I get changed. I've been wearing this flight suit all day."

"I can understand the second thing," said Murrue, "but the first… why the officers' lounge, Heero?"

"You'll see," he replied as he pulled her into the cockpit and closed the hatch, "you're in for a treat, Murrue."

"And the rest of this hasn't been one?" she asked playfully as she settled back into his lap, "Ending things off with a romantic dinner, Heero?"

He nodded. "Yes, and one I've been wanting to give you for awhile. No offense to your ship's cooks, but the meals have gotten a bit bland lately. I've been getting tired of the same standard Alliance provisions."

"I don't blame you," said Murrue, "I feel the same way…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed, and Heero could see her come to a realization.

"Heero," she said as oxygen cycled from the mobile suit's storage tanks back into the cockpit, "The provisions transfer between our three ships... it was Bristow's idea, but it wasn't entirely an independent one, was it?"

Heero nodded and gave her a small smile. The gig was up, and he had no intention of denying it and insulting her intelligence. "Bristow was there when I asked Shemei to help me with this… and he wanted to help too. The rations swap was born from that. It was his idea… but it was instigated by my desire to give you this date."

"I see," said Murrue, "looks like I have one more thing to thank you for."

"Save it until we actually try the food," Heero replied.

Murrue laughed. "Alright, Heero." Her expression then became more serious. "By the way, is it alright if I take my helmet off now?"

Glancing to his right, Heero checked a gauge on one of his monitors and saw that the oxygen levels in the cockpit were back to normal, and the pressure was at a safe level. "We're good, Murrue."

The instant the two of them had their helmets removed, Murrue threw her arms around Heero and took him into a deep, passionate kiss. The move was a surprise to the Gundam pilot, though certainly a welcome one, and he wasted no time in returning it. Her warm, moist lips pressed tightly against his, their tongues intertwined in their familiar wet dance, and the two of them lost themselves in the kiss.

Eventually they parted, though Murrue still kept her arms around him as she gave him a warm smile. "Heero," she said, "this was incredible. Thank you so much for taking me out today. I'll never, ever forget it."

Heero returned the smile. "Anytime, Murrue. I promise this won't be the last time I take you out."

"I believe it," she said, "and I'll do the same for you when I get the chance. You've more than earned it, and not just because of today. I love you, Heero."

Heero leaned forward and kissed her. "I love you too, Murrue."

….

Murrue stood in front of the mirror in her quarters' washroom, smiling as she waited for Heero to finish getting changed. The two of them had returned to the Archangel a little bit ago, and were both now getting ready for dinner. Murrue found it amusing that, unlike what was typical for these types of occasions, it was the man in the relationship that was taking longer than the woman to get ready. Murrue had worn her uniform underneath the spacesuit, and Heero had insisted that he was just fine with her wearing it to dinner rather than change into her spare one. However, her boyfriend was clearly not willing to let the casual attire he had worn underneath his black flight suit slide, and the extra time he was taking to get ready was all Murrue needed to know just what he was going to wear for dinner.

Humming a tune to herself, eagerly anticipating what she knew she was about to see, Murrue preoccupied herself by running a hand through her hair, making a few last minute adjustments, wanting to make sure everything was good in her view before Heero called her. She found herself longing for a makeup set and a fragrance, but she had done without them since Heliopolis, and she knew she would manage just fine until the end of the war. Though Heero had fallen for her for far more than just her looks, he had commented on her beauty several times, all the more so since they had entered into a relationship, and that was all Murrue needed.

Screw modern cosmetics, she thought, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, Heero loves me for who I am naturally. It wasn't makeup or perfume that won his heart; it was me!

"Murrue," she heard Heero say, "you ready?"

She turned around, beaming as she saw Heero standing in the doorway, wearing the magnificent uniform of the Sanc Kingdom Royal Guard. It was a splendid on him as it had been all the other times Murrue had seen him wear it, every bit from the jacket, pants, shirt, belt, boots, and sword serving only to enhance her naturally handsome boyfriend.

She walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Just waiting on you, Heero. You look wonderful."

Heero smiled, and Murrue could've sworn she saw just a hint of red flash briefly across his face. "Thanks," he said, "you look beautiful."

"Oh, come now," said Murrue, "I'm wearing the same uniform I was before this whole date started."

"Doesn't matter to me," Heero replied.

Now it was Murrue's turn to blush. "I'd call you out on flattery," she said, "except I know you too well, Heero; it's not your style."

"You're right about that," said Heero.

"So," said Murrue, looping her arm through his, "shall we?"

Heero nodded, and together the two of them made their way out of their room and down the hall towards the officers' lounge.

When they got there, they saw none other than Eric Bristow standing by the door. He smiled as Heero and Murrue approached. "You're right on time," he said, "she just finished the final touches."

"Who's 'she'?" asked Murrue, "And, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here Bristow?"

Eric chuckled. "Oh, you'll see soon enough for that first one, Captain Ramius. As for the second, that's simple; I'm here to make sure you two get the privacy an occasion like this calls for. None of the other officers will enter here while you and Heero enjoy your meal."

"I appreciate the thought," said Murrue, "though I don't recall you having the authority to close off the officers' lounge like this."

Eric smirked. "Well, I was a Field Marshal not too long ago. That ought to give me some clout. You can always write me up afterwards, Captain."

Murrue shook her head, an amused smile on her face. "I think we all know that I won't do that, Bristow… especially given all you're doing to help Heero with this. I do feel a bit guilty, though, shutting the other officers out like this."

"For what it's worth," said Eric, "I don't think they mind a bit. Lieutenant Tsukino was fine with it, I know that much. As for the others… well, they know just how hard you've fought to keep them all alive, Captain. They respect that more than you'll ever know. I think in their eyes you've more than earned a treat like this."

He nodded at her boyfriend before he continued. "The same goes for Heero. The rest of the crew knows they wouldn't have made it this far without him protecting the ship. The two of you, working together, have protected them in a manner that's gone well beyond the call of duty. I'm sure they all recognize that." He smiled. "And I know they wish you both the best. Set aside your guilt, Captain Ramius, and enjoy yourself with the one you love. I'm sure that's what Heero wants, at least."

Murrue looked at Heero, who nodded at Bristow's words. Murrue couldn't help but smile again. "You tell me to let go of my guilt," she said, "but you're putting me through a guilt trip in the process, and one involving Heero at that. I wonder what Shemei would say about that, Bristow."

"Oh, she wouldn't be too happy with me," Eric replied, shrugging, "but I'll use anything in my arsenal to win, both on and off the battlefield." He smirked. "Besides, we both know you have no intention of turning this down."

Murrue shook her head. "I never could, not after all Heero and the rest of you have put into this." She leaned over and gave Heero a quick kiss on the cheek. "Especially when Heero's the one that asked me out on this date."

Her boyfriend gave her a small smile. "I had nothing to do with this part, Murrue; this was all Bristow and the person he has helping him."

"Perhaps," said Murrue, "but you provided the spark for it, and you did it for me, Heero. That's all I need."

"Well then," said Eric, pressing a button on the keypad by the entrance, causing the door to open, "Why don't you two head on in? You don't want the food to get cold, after all."

"Indeed," said Murrue. She could smell a blend of aromas floating through the door, and her mouth was beginning to water. She turned to Heero. "Lead on, my love."

Heero nodded, and the two of them walked into the lounge. As the door closed behind them, Murrue's eyes were instantly drawn to the table closest to the lounge viewport. It was set for two, with several delectable dishes laid out on it. The beautiful Captain was surprised to see none other than the Valkyrie's mother standing beside the table, a warm smile on her face.

"Welcome back," said Akila as Heero and Murrue approached, "how was your flight?"

Murrue smiled. "Amazing, Mrs. Rehema. It's been one thing to watch Heero fly from the bridge of the Archangel; it was quite another to actually be in the cockpit with him."

Akila nodded. "I can relate, Captain Ramius. Riding out of the PLANTs with your boyfriend at the helm… well, it was certainly an experience." She turned to Heero. "You truly are a phenomenal pilot, young man."

Heero bowed his head slightly. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," she replied, "now get on over here and dig in. I want you two to enjoy this while it's still warm."

"You made all this?" asked Murrue as she sat down across the table from Heero.

"Well," said Akila, "being that all this was from military provisions, much of it was already premade, though not heated. Still, I managed to add some personal touches. You'd be surprised what a domestic hand can do to military food."

This doesn't even look military, Murrue thought as she looked over the table, not the way she made it.

Two plates were laid out, one each in front of her and Heero. On each of them was a piece of lasagna, and Murrue could still see the steam coming off it. To the side of that were two breadsticks, while in the center of the table was a small tray of six ball-shaped food items that Murrue had never seen before, though based on the sauce that was on them she guessed that they were Asian in origin. They weren't the only bits of Far Eastern cuisine on the table; next to them was a small platter of shrimp tempura. As for the drinks, there was a glass of water next to each plate. It wasn't what one might expect for a romantic dinner, but Alliance military policy allowed for no alchohol to be served on a warship, and Murrue was willing to bet both ZAFT and Orb had similar rules in place. She didn't particularly mind though, and certainly wasn't going to complain about it.

The lasagna and breadsticks probably came from the Eternal, she mused, I've certainly never seen them in the Archangel's menu. As for the Asian food, my money's on the Kusanagi. Either way, it all looks delicious!

She looked up to compliment Akila… only to find that she was no longer there. Glancing towards the lounge entrance, Murrue saw the door slide shut.

Leaving Heero and I alone, she thought, how considerate. Still, she could've at least let us thank her first. I guess we'll have to do that later.

She turned back to the table and saw Heero patiently waiting for her. He didn't want to start eating without her.

So wonderfully mannered, she thought with a smile, how did I get so lucky to find him?

"Well," she said, "let's dig in."

Heero nodded, and the two of them immediately went to work on their food. Murrue decided she'd start with the main course, and carved into the lasagna with her fork and knife. It was very warm as it hit her tongue, but not burning hot, and Murrue savored the flavor. If she did not know better, Murrue would never have been able to tell that it was military provisions. It had been prepared so carefully, so delectably…

"Mmmm," she said between bites, looking across the table at Heero, "this is so good! I haven't had a meal like this since our first layover in Orb."

"I know what you mean," said Heero, "I'm glad Shemei asked her mother to prepare this. It's far better than military provisions would normally be. No offense to your ship's cooks, Murrue, but I think Shemei's mother has them beat."

Murrue laughed. "None taken, Heero. I wonder if I should talk her into taking charge of the kitchen. Do you think that'd be too much?"

"It's your call," he replied as he munched on a breadstick, "you are the Captain, Murrue."

"I'm well aware of that," she said, smirking, "but the Valkyrie's parents are not part of my crew. They're guests on my ship, and I do not wish to impose on them."

"I don't think they would mind," said Heero, "at least Mrs. Rehema wouldn't. From what Shemei told me, she was very enthusiastic about preparing this meal, and cooking in general is a favorite pastime of hers. If you asked her to join your ship's cooking staff, I think she would jump at the chance to do so."

Murrue smiled as she swallowed another piece of lasagna. "In that case, I think I'll ask her tomorrow. Thank you for the input, Heero; you know how much I value your counsel."

Heero nodded. "Anytime, Murrue."

Deciding to try some of the other cuisine on the table, Murrue eyed the tray with the ball-shaped food items on it. Heero had already grabbed one and was in the process of popping it into his mouth.

"Heero," said Murrue as he swallowed, "What's that you just ate? I've never seen it before."

"It's called Takoyaki," he replied, "It's a Japanese snack composed of wheat flour-based batter filled with minced or diced octopus, tempura, pickled ginger, and green onion. The sauce covering them is the same name as the meal itself. It's similar to Worcestershire sauce."

"It sounds delicious," said Murrue, "I think I'll try one."

She promptly reached over and speared one with her fork before popping it in her mouth. Chewing it, she smiled as she relished the taste. It was hot and spicy, but not scathingly so, and she savored the flavor. It was so unlike anything she had ever tried before, and she enjoyed it immensely.

"Ah," she said after swallowing, "I like that. I'm glad we got these shipped over here."

"Same here," said Heero, "Takoyaki were pretty popular in the L1 colony cluster. Not surprising really, since that area had a large Japanese enclave in it. Sometimes I'd get them as a snack food. They were simple enough… but I liked them."

It was a little window into a part of Heero's life Murrue knew she could never see for herself. While he had told her all about his life during the war in his old world, and she was very grateful for it, Murrue also regretted the fact that practically all of his past had been spent fighting. It may have ultimately led him to her, but Murrue dearly wished they could've met through a different path, one that did not force a young man to grow up so quickly and brutally. Hearing Heero talk like this was encouraging to her. It told her that, even in the midst of a war-ravaged world, there were still small things in life that her beloved had been able to find some enjoyment in.

Speaking of enjoyment, Murrue mused, her smile becoming playful, I think I can add a little more spice to this romantic meal of ours…

"Oh, Heero?" she said, batting her eyelashes at her boyfriend and leaning forward.

"Murrue?" he replied, raising his eyebrows. At the same time, Murrue could've sworn she saw his face flush ever so slightly, and she knew her shift in demeanor was having an effect on the young man.

"Do you mind grabbing me another one of those?" she asked, nodding at the Takoyaki balls.

The Gundam pilot blinked before nodding and grabbing one with his fork. Murrue raised her hand and crooked her finger, motioning for the young man to bring it to her. Once again she had the satisfaction of seeing a very slight hint of red flash through Heero's face, and she knew that he had figured out what she really wanted him to do.

Murrue watched as Heero took care to blow on her treat to cool it off a bit. She then opened her mouth as the Perfect Soldier reached across the table and fed her the Takoyaki ball. "Mmmm," she said as she chewed and swallowed, "thank you, my love."

Heero gave her a small smile. "You're welcome, Murrue."

"Now," she replied with a mischievous smile, "Your turn."

"Huh?" said Heero.

Murrue giggled, treasuring his priceless, puzzled expression. "I guess 'my turn' would be more appropriate," she said as she grabbed another Takoyaki ball with her fork, "open wide, Heero."

Her boyfriend did as she asked, and as Heero had done for her Murrue made sure to blow on the food before giving it to him. She watched as the young man took it in his mouth, satisfied as she saw subtle hints of enjoyment in his features. Murrue made sure to commit the name of the food to memory, and resolved to learn how to make it herself when the war was over. She could see that it was something that her boyfriend liked, and she wanted to cook it for him as a homemade meal sometime.

Perhaps I can ask Mrs. Rehema for instruction, she thought, the way she made this was simply incredible. Heero called it a 'snack food', but it makes a wonderful side dish for a meal like this.

She grabbed another Takoyaki ball as Heero grabbed a piece of shrimp tempura. As the two of them enjoyed their respective bits of food, an idea ran through Murrue's mind as she eyed the last Takoyaki ball on the tray.

Taking the last one on her fork, she plopped it into her mouth. However, rather than chewing the whole thing, she proceeded to carefully bite the ball in half. She swallowed one section while keeping the other one as preserved as she could in her mouth.

Murrue then waved her hand in front of her mouth and made a puffing sound, indicating that the food was too hot. Right on cue, she saw Heero reach over and grab her glass of water, raising it to her mouth. Rather than accept it though, Murrue shook her head while waving for him to come closer.

As Heero leaned across the table, Murrue suddenly cupped his chin in her right hand. Then she moved forward to kiss him. As their lips met she opened her mouth and pushed the other half of the Takoyaki ball into his mouth. She could feel the heat and flavor of the food mixing with her lover's warm breath. Their tongues met and swirled together, sauce and saliva intermingling in an intimate dance unlike any other.

Eventually they parted, and Murrue smiled as she watched Heero swallow the remains of the Takoyaki ball, his expression a very rare one for him; a mix of surprise and amusement.

Murrue put her hand to her mouth and laughed. "It was the last one," she said, once again batting her eyelashes at the young man across from her, "I felt greedy keeping it all to myself, so I thought I'd share."

Heero nodded as he met her gaze. "I appreciate the… generosity."

"Anytime, my love," she replied.

….

Eric Bristow smiled as he waited outside the hangar entrance. The Judgment was in the process of touching down, and he needed the hangar to be repressurized before he went in to greet his girlfriend. Now that her patrol was done, Eric could tell her the good news regarding Heero and Murrue's date.

I'm glad everything went well for them, he thought, they deserved it, especially after all they did to help me free Shemei's parents. I owe them both big time for that. Thanks to them, the woman I love is happier then I've seen her in quite some time, and that's worth more to me than anything else in the Earth Sphere.

The indicator light on the pad by the door switched to green, and the former Field Marshal wasted no time in moving into the hangar. He quickly spotted the Judgment and proceeded over to the mobile suit at a brisk pace. The cockpit hatch was already open, and he saw Shemei standing on the maintenance catwalk, her helmet cradled in her left arm, giving her unit a once-over before sealing it up.

"How was the flight?" he asked as he approached.

Shemei whirled around, grinning as she looked down at the Wolf. "Eric!" she yelled, rushing down to the hangar floor. When she got to him she swiftly threw her arms around him and took him into a deep kiss.

Eric returned it without hesitation, reveling in the taste and feel of her lips and the fierce grip she held him in. Her passion, he thought, it's amazing how fiercely it burns, even after such a long flight. Ah, my North African goddess… my angel of the desert winds… my Valkyrie…

Eventually their lips parted, though they remained in the embrace. "I'm glad you're ok," said Eric, "I wish I could've been out there with you."

"Hey," she replied, "you've got your own flight time, remember? Speaking of which, that's in about eight hours now. You really ought to get to bed."

"I will," said Eric, "I was just waiting on you."

Shemei leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "You're sweet, love. I appreciate it."

"No problem," said Eric, smiling, "What do you say we stop by the mess and grab something to take back to our room before calling it a night?"

"Sounds good," said Shemei, looping her arm through his, "I had an energy bar while I was out on patrol, but that's still no substitute for real food."

"I hear that," said Eric as the two of them made their way towards the exit.

"Speaking of real food," said Shemei, a gleam in her silver eyes, "how'd things go for Heero and Murrue's dinner?"

"Very well," he replied as they left the hangar, "I didn't eavesdrop, but when they came out of the lounge they both looked very happy. Asking your mother to do the cooking for them was brilliant, Shemei. She really gave it her all, and I know they liked it."

"That's great," said Shemei, grinning, "Mom was really excited when I told her about our little plan. I'm sure she enjoyed making the meal as much as Heero and Murrue did eating it. Speaking of the lovebirds, where are they now?"

"They spent about an hour in the officers' lounge," said Eric as they walked through the hallways towards the mess, "after that, I think they retired for the evening."

"I'll bet Murrue wanted to thank Heero for the date," said Shemei, a knowing look in her eyes, "in more ways than one."

Eric chuckled. "The way she was holding onto him when they walked out of the lounge, the way she was looking at him… no argument there, Shemei."

The two of them walked into the mess and proceeded to grab two packs of premade rice balls that had come from the Kusanagi, along with two bottles of water. Shemei stowed it all in her helmet, using it as an impromptu bowl.

"By the way," she said as they left the mess and headed towards their quarters, "Murrue's not the only one that wants to do a little 'thanking'."

"Huh?" said Eric, his eyes widening and a familiar heat rushing to his face as his girlfriend gave him a mischievous smile and a wink.

"Don't play coy, lover boy," she replied, "I think you've earned it for all you've done for us… for me."

Eric gave her a sheepish smile. "If I recall correctly, you did that quite… thoroughly… after the raid on the PLANTs. Both the night after the fight, and… well, every night since then."

"And you think I consider my obligation fulfilled? Far from it, dear," the Valkyrie whispered in his ear, her warm breath sending an electric tingle down the Wolf's spine, "Besides, I have more than that to thank you for. Supporting me during the duel, helping with this little plan of Heero's… I still have quite a debt to pay off."

"How does my helping with Heero and Murrue's date figure into this?" he asked, his face growing warmer with each passing second.

"Look at it this way," said Shemei as they walked, "mixing up the provisions was your idea, and because of that my mother got the chance to use her cooking skills to help two people she's becoming quite fond of, which I know made her very happy… and if my mother's happy, then so am I. After what they went through in Charon Prison, anything that can make her and my father happy is worthy of my gratitude… especially when you're the one that made it possible, my love."

Eric shook his head as they approached their room. "You're giving me way too much credit, Shemei."

"And you never give yourself enough," she replied, smirking, "I love your modesty, Eric… but I think you've more than earned the right to be proud of what you've done, what you've helped us accomplish."

"I'll take your word for it," said Eric.

"You'd better," said Shemei, smiling as the Wolf pressed a button on a nearby keypad, opening the door, "along with everything else I plan to give you. Of course… you're still going to have to put in some effort of your own."

Eric smirked. "Is that so?"

"Believe it, lover boy," said Shemei as she unhooked her arm from his and put it over his shoulder, with her hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck. She leaned close to his ear, and Eric could feel her warm breath on his ear as she whispered. "I'm hot-blooded… check it and see."

The Wolf chuckled as he brought his arm around his lover, his hand pressing against her shoulder blade, pulling her close. "Got a fever of a hundred and three?"

"Come on, baby," she replied softly, lowering her head and kissing his neck, "do you do more than dance…"

"You know I can," said Eric, grinning as he kissed her cheek.

"Hey," said Shemei, laughing as she pulled back to meet his gaze, "that's not how the next line goes."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Eric replied, smirking as he played along, "I'm hot-blooded, hot-blooded…"

"Now that's more like it," Shemei purred, her hand moving towards the collar of his uniform, which she began to undo, "and you don't have to read my mind…"

"To know what you have in mind," he finished for her as he slowly began to pull down the zipper on her flight suit. At the same time, he pulled her towards the open doorway to their room.

They came together in a passionate kiss even as they continued to undress each other… and the door closed behind them.

….

Dearka stood outside the door to the counselor's office, checking the time on a small digital clock on a monitor beside the entrance. His appointment was scheduled to begin in a few minutes, and the former ZAFT pilot was having second thoughts about it.

This isn't me, he thought, I'm not really the type that goes to see a shrink… or at least I thought I wasn't. This is important, though… and not something I can just discuss with anyone.

It had been three days since the duel, and the young man had asked Dr. Claudia for this appointment yesterday. The Orb officer had simply smiled and written him into her schedule for the next day, not asking why he'd wanted to talk to her. Dearka could've sworn he'd seen a knowing look in her eyes, but it had been for just a split second, and for all he knew he could've been imagining it. It was one of the reasons he usually tried to avoid people in her occupation; they had a way of working their way inside your head without you even realizing it, reading so much from the most subtle cues. It made the mobile suit pilot a little uneasy, but Dr. Claudia seemed like a nice enough woman. In the short time she'd been with the Archangel, she'd already gained a reputation among the crew as a truly caring and thoughtful woman, someone who did all she could to help people sort out their personal issues and doubts… and that was what Dearka needed right now.

I can't just sit on this, he thought, not with all that's going on, the odds we're up against. I need to sort out these feelings… I've got to find out if I should act on them. That girl… I never thought I'd start caring so much about a Natural.

Taking a deep breath, the young man pressed a button on the keypad. "Dr. Claudia? It's Dearka."

The door opened, revealing the lovely therapist. Whatever his misgivings about people in her field, Dearka certainly couldn't deny that the doctor was an attractive woman.

She smiled as she greeted him. "You're right on time, Dearka. Please, come on in."

He nodded and followed her inside. She motioned for him to take the seat in front of her desk as the door closed behind him. As he did so he saw that her desk was strewn with folders and a few stray pieces of paper.

"Pardon the mess," said Dr. Claudia as she sat down across from him and began rearranging all the paperwork into a semblance of order, "I've been constantly updating my psychological profiles of the people on this ship, going through and making notes in the files Captain Ramius gave me, as well as compiling new ones for those not originally registered as part of the ship's crew. It's a full time job, and can get a bit hectic at times."

"Am I in there too?" he asked as she organized her desk.

"Not on paper," she replied, "since you weren't part of the original complement, I've had to make yours from scratch on the computer. Luckily for me, the Eternal was able to send over some data from the ZAFT personnel databases for me to work with." She gave him a warm smile. "Don't worry, Dearka. There's nothing personal in yours, just basic information. Date of birth, the colony you lived at prior to joining the service, immediate family… simple items, nothing private."

"Thanks," he replied.

"I hope this doesn't bother you," said Dr. Claudia, "but the truth of the matter is, I have been meaning to approach you to ask for a meeting. Your situation here is unique, and you did not originally arrive here under the best of circumstances. It hasn't affected your performance so far, or at least not to a degree that Captain Ramius has filed concern… but being on this ship, fighting in our cause, does put you under a different kind of stress than some of the others, doesn't it?"

Dearka sighed. It was as good as any place to start, and he could work his way from there to what was really bothering him. "I guess you could say that. If you have access to basic ZAFT records, then you know about my father, right?"

Dr. Claudia nodded. "Tad Elsman, serving as the representative for Februarius City on the PLANT Supreme Council. He was neutral with moderate leanings, but from what I understand he shifted his stance in the run-up to the elections in order to ride the rising tide of the radical faction."

Dearka nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Dad's a good guy, and he really cares about Februarius City… but he can be opportunistic when it comes to politics."

"And now you are fighting against him," said Dr. Claudia, her tone sympathetic, "it must be hard on you. By now ZAFT must be aware that you have joined our cause, and that could have repercussions for your family. Are you afraid for them?"

"A little," he replied, "but I think they're safe. Dad's still aligned with Zala, and Mom just works in the Februarius City Prosecutor's Office as one of the mid-level managers for the paralegals on staff. They're both Coordinators, so I don't think the radicals will go after them like they did the Valkyrie's parents." He sighed. "Of course, there's always the chance that I'm wrong. It's impossible to be certain."

"All too true," said Dr. Claudia softly, "for what it's worth, Dearka, I pray that they'll whether this storm." She smiled as she continued. "Also, I think that they'd be proud if they knew the stance you've taken by joining with us. You've shown a great deal of courage, especially since you had the chance to return to the PLANTs. You stayed with us to fight for a future where Coordinators and Naturals can live together in peace and friendship, and I believe that's a dream your parents would think worth fighting for. Though I'm sure Zala has forced your father to disavow you in public, in private I'm sure his heart goes with you, as does your mother's."

Dearka nodded, the woman's words easing his concerns somewhat. "Thanks, doc."

"You're quite welcome, Dearka," she replied, "that being said, your family's situation is not the only thing that makes your situation here difficult. After all, you were once part of the mobile suit team that hounded this ship since the attack on Heliopolis. Going from that to being a prisoner on this ship, and then to piloting for it, could not have been a seamless transition."

"It's odd, I'll grant you that," said Dearka, "I think I'm still adjusting to that idea a bit, even after all the time that's gone by since the battle back in Orb. Still, it's not that bad. The crew's been good to me, at least. I don't think there's any bad blood hanging around from the days I was attacking this ship."

"True," said Dr. Claudia, "Captain Ramius and her crew are very accepting people. They aren't bound by the hatred and prejudices of the PLANT radicals or Alliance Blue Cosmos and affiliates, which is why they were able to break away at Alaska and begin fighting against both superpowers. Still… I heard there was an incident during your early days on the ship."

Dearka nodded. "I'm sure you know all the details, doc."

"Captain Ramius did forward me a report on it," she said, nodding, "you were attacked in the medical bay… by Miriallia Haw."

Dearka closed his eyes for a moment, the incident in the infirmary playing out in his head. "I was… but it wasn't her. Not really."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"When that happened," he said, "it was the day after she lost her boyfriend in the battle with my team in the Marshall Islands. Her grief was still very fresh, and I didn't make things any better. In fact, I actually said something pretty stupid which set her off."

"What was it?" asked Dr. Claudia.

"When I saw her come in," he said, "I saw she was all depressed. I didn't know why, and as I was a prisoner at the time I wasn't exactly in a polite mood, even though the crew had treated me well; hell, I was there because they were examining me for injuries, something I don't think Alliance soldiers on other ships would care about when it comes to Coordinators. Anyway, I made some sarcastic remark about her boyfriend dying…"

"Not realizing that you had just struck a very raw nerve," Dr. Claudia finished for him, "A very callous mistake on your part."

Dearka nodded. He certainly wasn't going to argue her on that. "When I said that, I could instantly tell I'd made the wrong move. She freaked out and came at me with a scalpel. Heero stopped her, but it was a close thing. I was scared; I'd never seen a girl that furious before. But… there was more than that. When I looked into her eyes as Heero pulled her back, I could see the rage… but also her pain and sadness. Her grief had taken over her, and that's why she came at me."

Dr Claudia gave him a small smile. "So in your opinion, it wasn't really Miriallia that attacked you because of the intense sorrow she was feeling at the time. Her emotions were raw, and what you had said set them off. Under other circumstances though, you don't believe she would've attacked you. Does that sound about right?"

Dearka couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. You know, you're really good at this, doc."

"Well, it is my job," she replied, "I think you took a very understanding approach to Miriallia's reaction, Dearka. Some people might not be as forgiving of her as you are."

"She deserved it," said Dearka, "and she more than made up for coming at me like that."

"You're referring to when Flay Allster pointed a gun at you," said Dr. Claudia, "Miriallia threw herself between you and her."

"Yes," said Dearka, "and that's when I saw the real Miriallia. She was willing to die just to keep that girl from killing me, someone that had been shooting at them only the day before. I'd never seen a girl make a stand like that. I mean, I've met female soldiers in ZAFT, and I know they're brave, but…"

"It's different when it's a girl that only moments ago attacked you is suddenly putting her life on the line to save you," Dr. Claudia finished for him, smiling.

Dearka nodded. "Yeah…"

"She's why you came back, isn't she?" the counselor asked, "You could've gone to Oceania, and from there returned to ZAFT. It wouldn't have been hard; the Carpentaria base is not far from Orb. You didn't, though. You stayed in Orb, and even fought to ward off the Atlantic Federation's invasion… and it was for Miriallia, wasn't it?"

Now they were getting at what really had caused Dearka to make this appointment. "That's right. After that incident in the infirmary, Miriallia actually started coming down to my cell in the brig. The first time it was just to apologize, but she started bringing me meals shortly after that… and just to talk. During the time between the fight in the Marshall Islands and the invasion of Orb… we became friends. I was amazed at how caring of a person she was, and how strong she was too. She was determined to stay on the Archangel and protect her homeland. When I saw that… I couldn't just walk away."

"That's something we're all grateful for," said Dr. Claudia, "You're piloting the Buster for us is a great contribution to our cause. More than that though, it shows that you have a strong heart, one that's unwilling to stand aside and watch as this cruel war consumes the Earth Sphere and the people you care for."

"To be honest," said Dearka, "I didn't really start thinking about the larger picture until after the first part of the battle in Orb. When I joined the Archangel in the Buster… all I was thinking about was protecting Miriallia."

Dr. Claudia smiled. "You truly did value the friendship you and her had forged in the time since the Marshall Islands… or was there something more to it?"

It may have been phrased as a question, but from the look in the woman's dark blue eyes Dearka knew that she had already come to her conclusion… and it was right on the money.

He sighed and gave her a wry smile. "I guess there's no point in denying it now, eh doc?"

The counselor shook her head. "I'd say it would be counterproductive… especially when I believe it's what really brought you here. Dearka… you're in love with Miriallia."

He nodded. "I couldn't help it, really. Her making that stand in the infirmary, putting herself between me and that girl with the gun… well, it made an impression."

"I don't doubt that," Dr. Claudia replied, "but I also don't think that was the only factor in your attraction to her, was it?"

Dearka shook his head. "No, it wasn't. During our conversations down in the brig, I got to know her as a person. She's kind, smart, thoughtful for others, strong in her beliefs, dedicated to her friends… and pretty cute too."

"That last one would be obvious at first glance," said Dr. Claudia, smiling, "and I'm sure she'd be glad to know you've taken notice." As Dearka's eyes widened, Dr. Claudia laughed. "Don't worry, Dearka; I won't tell her. What's said in here stays between us, unless I feel it affects your duties to the point that I need to inform Captain Ramius, and I do not think that is the case here. Quite the opposite, in fact; your affection for Miriallia only increases your determination to protect the Archangel, and I can't see the Captain finding fault with that."

Dearka sighed in relief. "That's good to hear."

"I can imagine," said Dr. Claudia, "Well, from what you've told me it's clear that you've liked Miriallia romantically for quite some time now… and you have not acted upon those feelings beyond joining up with the Archangel."

Dearka shook his head. "No. I mean, I try to make time every day to talk to her when we're both off duty, and we usually grab at least one meal together. I think she likes that; she seems to be ok with it, anyway. She actually asked me about my parents after the first day of fighting in Orb… she was genuinely worried about them."

"About them," asked Dr. Claudia, "or about you?"

Dearka thought back to that conversation. "Maybe… maybe it was both. My parents… and how my joining the Archangel could affect them."

"It would not surprise me if it was both," said Dr. Claudia, "you mentioned yourself how Miriallia was thoughtful and dedicated to her friends, and by that point I think she considered you one."

"You're probably right, doc," said Dearka, "I just… now, after all the time that's gone by, after how I've gotten to know her… I know that I want to be more than friends with her now. But… it's complicated."

"How so?" asked Dr. Claudia, "You like her, and she's been friendly enough towards you that there's the possibility of reciprocation. What's stopping you, Dearka?"

Dearka looked down and sighed. "It's… her dead boyfriend, doc. I mean, it's true he died months ago, but I'm still sure she thinks about him. I've got no problem with that, really. However…"

"You're worried about timing, aren't you?" she asked, "Is it too soon to ask her for more than she's already given you, especially since she's been healing from the tragedy in the Marshall Islands… is that about right?"

Dearka nodded. "Yeah, it is. She seems a lot better than she did back then, but… how do I know if she's really moved on? More importantly… what if telling her how I feel ends up hurting her because it's too soon?"

"That is the crux of the issue, isn't it?" said Dr. Claudia, "You've clearly been putting a lot of thought into this." She smiled again. "The fact that you've been giving it such consideration really shows how much you care for Miriallia, Dearka."

"Well yeah," he replied, "I mean, I'd be a real jerk if I didn't think about her feelings in all this. Doc, I need to know… should I do this? Has enough time gone by, will I dredge up old feelings from the battle in the Marshall Islands… am I right to be in love with her?"

"I think you are," said the counselor, "from what you've told me, I know that this is far more than a simple physical attraction on your part. You're drawn to her, Dearka… all of her."

"But that doesn't matter if telling her how I feel ends up hurting her," said Dearka.

"What makes you so sure that it will do that?" asked Dr. Claudia, "Dearka, I'm glad to see that you've given Miriallia's feelings regarding the death of Tolle such thought, but I think you are neglecting something just as important."

"What's that?" asked Dearka.

"How her feelings regarding you may have grown," she replied, "The two of you have become close since she lost Tolle. You've already admitted to your own attraction. Have you considered the possibility that, as I stated earlier, Miriallia's feelings may have grown to the point that she shares that attraction?"

"It… it's hard to say," said Dearka, "I mean, sure, we've been spending time together talking and all, but she spends time with her other friends too."

"True enough," said Dr. Claudia, "but let me ask you this. When she spends time with you, are her other friends around?"

Dearka thought for a moment, and his eyes widened as he came to a realization. "No… they're usually not. I mean, I've met them, and have shared a couple meals with them, but when I'm with Miriallia… it's usually just us."

"And has that been something you've been deliberately trying to set up?" asked Dr. Claudia.

Dearka shook his head. "No. I just… meet with her when I can."

"Which seems to be every day now," said Dr. Claudia, smiling, "and consider this, Dearka; Miriallia and her friends from Heliopolis all get off their shifts at the same time. Since they all share off hours, normally it would be expected that when you grab your meals with her, or try to spend time with her in general, more often than not they'd be there as well. However, that hasn't been the case."

"What are you getting at, doc?" he asked.

"Whether she's aware of it or not," the doctor replied, "Miriallia's been making an effort to spend more time with you… just you, Dearka. Now, what do you suppose that might imply?"

Her tone indicated that she already knew the answer to her own question, and after a moment Dearka grasped it as well. His eyes widened in comprehension. "Doc… you really think…"

"That she likes you too?" the counselor finished for him, "I think the possibility exists, and that it is greater than you realize."

This wasn't what Dearka had been expecting to hear going into this appointment. While it was certainly a welcome surprise, it still took a moment for him to process it. Eventually he was able to speak again. "So… what should I do?"

"Well," she replied, "what I'm telling you here is strictly conjecture; there's no certainty when it comes to this sort of thing. The way I see it, two paths are before you if you wish to pursue this."

"What are they?" he asked.

"For the first," said Dr. Claudia, "you could simply tell her how you feel the next time you see her."

"Just like that?" said Dearka, nervous at the prospect, "No prep work or anything like that?"

"The blunt and bold approach is always an option," she replied, smiling "and in wartime, it happens more often than you might think. Emotions run high, and our feelings evolve faster than they would in peacetime. After all, one never knows if the next day may be their last. You and Miriallia are both young; people your age should act on their feelings in times like these."

"However," she continued, "at present we seemed to have gained a lull in the fighting, at least on our front. I can't say for certain how long it will last, but it does give you the luxury of another approach to this matter."

"And what's that?" asked Dearka.

"To take a little more time," said Dr. Claudia, "and observe her. When you and Miriallia have your meals together or however you spend your time together, pay attention to how she acts with you, how she responds to your words and actions. Of course, don't openly stare at her while doing it; you'll just make her nervous. Do it discreetly over the next few days. Look for signs."

"What kind of signs?" asked Dearka.

"Oh, small things," the counselor continued, "the look in her eye when she smiles at you, the way she carries herself when it's just the two of you, does she move a little closer to you when no one else is around... those sorts of things. Also, be mindful of yourself, Dearka. When we're with someone we care about, we tend to act a little differently both on a conscious and an unconscious level. Do you move a little closer to her when it's just you two, do you feel different when you smile at her when there's no one else around… the same signs you may see in her may also be reflected in you. Keep an eye out for those… and make a move when you feel ready."

Dearka sighed. "You make it sound easy, doc. I'm not the best when it comes to that sort of thing. And 'make a move when I feel ready'… not really sure how I'll know if I'm ready."

Dr. Claudia smiled. "You will, Dearka. Your heart will tell you. It won't be easy. In fact… by that point you might be more scared than you ever have in your life. Still, have faith in yourself. You're a good man, Dearka. You're brave, intelligent, and kind at heart. Recognize that, believe in yourself… and believe in Miriallia."

Dearka nodded, smiling as well. It didn't change the fact that he was venturing into unknown territory, that he would be going out on a limb… but it was what he needed to hear.

He stood up. "Thanks, doc. That helped a lot."

"You're welcome, Dearka," she replied, nodding at him, "and good luck."

….

As the door to her office shut, Dr. Claudia leaned back in her chair and smiled. She'd had to walk a fine line with Dearka during the appointment considering her own knowledge of Miriallia's feelings.

I have an oath of confidentiality that I am sworn to uphold, she thought as she looked at the ceiling, other than the Captain, I can tell no one what is discussed between me and my patients.

In her eyes, she had upheld that oath. In her conversation with Dearka, she had provided hints that Miriallia did indeed return his affection, but she had been careful about it, and had not given the young man any indication that the girl he had fallen for had discussed her own growing attraction to him with her.

"It's not every day I get to play Cupid," she said to herself, "and on a warship to boot… my, what strange times I find myself in."

Leaning forward in her chair, she powered up the computer monitor and brought up the file she'd been building on the young man she'd just spoken with. She then made a slight adjustment to it, altering a note she had made on him prior to the meeting.

On the screen, the phrase 'possible romantic inclinations towards Miriallia Haw' became 'confirmed romantic feelings for Miriallia Haw'.

"Ah," she said, "I love my job."

….

It feels like ages, thought Cagalli as she stared out the viewport of the Kusanagi's officer's lounge, but it's only been two weeks. Two weeks since Orb fell…

Two weeks since my father died…

She'd had so little time to mourn over that time period, so little time to even think about what had happened during that last day in Orb. Cagalli'd had only moments to grieve when the core block of the Kusanagi had made orbit before receiving the broadcast from the Eternal. From that moment onward the ship had been in a constant flurry of activity, and Cagalli had been swept up in it all. There had been the fight to save the Eternal, the meeting on the ship shortly afterwards, the prep for the raid on the PLANTs, the attack itself, the journey to Mendel and the duel between Heero and Shemei, the conference the day after that…

So much has happened, she thought, and in all that… I almost forgot that my father had died! It's inexcusable… I'm a terrible daughter.

Part of her mind was quick to remind her that it wasn't like that. She hadn't forgotten her father, not by a long shot, and the work she had been doing since that day was very important. Not only had she flown in combat, but she'd been doing all she could to help the Three Ships Alliance. After the conference on the Eternal she'd had several private meeting and calls with Lacus, and the two girls had been focusing on finding ways to establish contact between the moderate faction in the PLANTs and the two surviving Orb colonies at L3. They'd also helped Waltfeld and Bristow iron out all the little wrinkles in their plan for a stable and covert supply line, come up with ideas to aid the political opposition to the radicals in the PLANTs… all work that she knew her father would find quite valuable, and would have been pleased to see her taking part in.

Now though, after two weeks of near constant activity… she finally had a little time to herself. She wasn't in a meeting, she wasn't in video conference with Lacus, she wasn't doing simulation practice with Erica's test pilots, she wasn't taking counsel from Kisaka on tactics and strategy… she wasn't doing anything important. Orb's tomboy princess had found herself alone in the officers' lounge… and the grief all the activity of the past two weeks had suppressed was beginning to come to the forefront. There had been a few times where she had cried for him at night, but with all that had been going on, more often than not Cagalli had been too tired to do even that much, falling asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. Now though, she was wide awake, with nothing to occupy her.

Nothing but her despair.

I miss you, father, she thought, god, I'd give anything to have you here with me. You're the one who should be leading Orb right now, not me. All I ever did was argue with you, defy you. I never paid attention to what you were trying to teach me. Now here I am, trying to rule a government in-exile… and not even from our last remaining territory, our last two colonies. I'm doing it from a warship because I still can't sit back, stay away from the fighting… because I still haven't embraced the patience that you and Kisaka tried to hammer into my head. Now the people on the Kusanagi look to me for leadership, and the people on the Archangel and Eternal see me as the face of Orb, it's representative in this fight, but I don't know the first thing about playing that role.

"I'm not ready," she said softly, clenching her fists as she looked down at the floor, "I'm not ready for this…"

Now more than ever was she aware of just how much her personality conflicted with the leadership role that she had been thrust into. She was stubborn, rebellious, fiery, and impatient. While Cagalli passionately cared for her people and wanted what was best for them, she struggled to find a way to do that as the daughter of their late ruler. When she was flying in combat, helping her friends and taking the battle to the enemy, she felt in control and focused, that she was making a difference. However, when it came to sitting down at a table, whether it be in conference with others or at a desk with nothing but files and papers before her, and hammering out work from a chair, she struggled.

I can work with the others at the conferences and meetings, she thought, I understand their importance and that of my contribution. We're all on the same side, and I want to do all I can to help everyone. Still… I struggle with diplomacy.

It wasn't that she was impolite or tactless. Cagalli had great respect for the people in the Three Ships Alliance, and considered many of them to be her friends. She took care to treat them as she would want them to treat her; with courtesy and compassion. Where she struggled when it came to diplomacy though was reconciling her passionate heart, her fierce desire to tackle a problem head-on, with the need for a more nuanced approach. This was especially true in their current situation. As the meeting earlier in the week on the Eternal had demonstrated, bringing the war to an end that did not involve mutual annihilation was far from a simple matter. They couldn't fly off and engage Alliance and ZAFT forces at the spur of the moment. Patience and the ability to see all aspects of the greater picture and react accordingly would be vital to success, and those were areas Cagalli knew she had much to learn in.

Areas her father had tried to educate her in.

And she had completely disregarded him.

"I was so stupid," she said, tears welling up in her eyes, "I was such a bitch. Father, I knew you were trying to prepare me for the day I would lead our people… and I shoved you aside. I'm our nation's princess, and I acted like a brat! I couldn't see until it was far too late what you were trying to do for our country… I defied and fought you for so long… and all you wanted was to help me. I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I never deserved to be your daughter."

"You know he'd never think that," said a familiar voice from behind her.

Cagalli jumped. Whirling around, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes, she saw Athrun Zala standing in the doorway to the officers' lounge, wearing his crimson flight suit.

"Athrun…" she said softly, "When… when did you get back?"

"A couple minutes ago," he replied as he walked up to her, "I called Kisaka, and he said you were in here." As he approached, Cagalli could see the concern in his eyes. "He told me you could use some company… are you alright?"

She shook her head. She wouldn't lie to him; she was far too fond of him to do that. Ever since their fateful meeting on that island in the Indian Ocean so many months ago, her feelings for the young man before her had continued to grow. At first Cagalli had thought it to be just her gratitude towards him hanging around in her heart; after all, Athrun had treated her well when they had first met, even though they had been enemies. Their initial meeting may have been confrontational, but once she was his prisoner he had looked after her, and had even saved her from a snake when she had accidently shot him. It had left an impression on her, and she had actually been a bit sorry to part with him the following morning.

Their next meeting had been under less than ideal circumstances. She could recall quite well the surprise and fear she had felt when she had found him lying on that beach in the Marshall Islands, wounded and surrounded with debris from the Aegis and the Strike. Cagalli could also remember with perfect clarity the shock, sorrow, and rage she had felt when he had admitted to killing Kira. After all she had been through with the boy from Heliopolis, to hear that he was dead had torn her heart in a way she'd never felt before. She hadn't loved Kira, not romantically, but she cared deeply for him… like a sister would a brother.

Of course, she thought, at the time, I didn't know that we actually were brother and sister.

Despite her anger and grief though, she couldn't bring herself to hate Athrun. Her heart just couldn't do it, and she knew that Kira would not have wanted her to do it. Even in the midst of the emotional turmoil in her heart, she knew that Athrun was still a good guy, and she did not want him to suffer the same fate as Kira. That was why she had given him the Haumea Talisman, and it was why she had found herself praying for his safety long after he had returned to ZAFT. Even after what had happened, what he had supposedly done to Kira… she'd missed him.

I didn't know why at the time, she thought, it was only when he came back to Orb, when he helped us fight off the Alliance forces, when I saw him again in the Archangel's hangar… that was when I knew.

I liked him.

Her feelings had only grown stronger for the former ZAFT pilot since that day. Sure, the young man could be a little on the quiet side, and he was clearly struggling with his sense of identity, his role in life, but Cagalli could easily forgive him for that. He was kind and thoughtful, strong and courageous, intelligent and determined… and quite handsome to boot. The young man had shown great concern for her ever since leaving Orb, and had proved to be a very attentive listener during their conversations, offering insights that had surprised Cagalli with their depth and maturity. Part of that, she knew, had come from the loss of his mother in the Bloody Valentine Tragedy. It had forced him to grow up faster, especially as his father became more and more distant as he threw himself into leading ZAFT against the Alliance forces.

They were both the children of powerful people, and Cagalli could draw a sense of comfort and solidarity with him from that. They both knew what it was like to live in the shadows of their fathers, even if the men in question had very different outlooks on life. They also shared a sense of defiance towards their fathers, though Cagalli knew Athrun's rebellion against Patrick Zala was of a very different nature than hers against the late Chief Representative. Cagalli had merely disagreed with her father when it came to ideals, and had clashed with him in large part because of their different personalities; Athrun, by contrast, had actually taken up arms against his father to prevent him from slaughtering billions.

In a way, she thought as she looked at Athrun, his burdens are as great as mine. He lost his mother, he lost one of his friends at Kira's hands, he thought he killed Kira in the Marshall Islands, he turned against his father and joined Kira during the fighting in Orb… he's endured as much turmoil and tragedy as I have, if not more, but it hasn't broken him. He's still standing, still fighting, and even in the midst of everything he's gone through he still tries to help me. He cares for me… and I for him.

I… I love him.

"No…" she said, answering his question, "no, I'm really not. All that's happening, all we need to do, what we're trying to achieve… I don't know if I can do this, Athrun."

"You can," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "Cagalli, everyone in our group knows that you're doing your best to lead your people. They know that you care deeply not just for Orb, but for all of us, and they've all got your back. The Kusanagi may be the symbol of Orb's government-in-exile, but you're its heart. Everyone recognizes that, and they know you won't let them down."

Cagalli shook her head. "Athrun… what if they're wrong? In all the time I spent as Orb's 'princess', my father and the people around him tried to show me what it meant to lead a nation… and I didn't listen to them! I ran off! First to Heliopolis, then North Africa… all because I couldn't sit still, because I wasn't patient, because I was so eager to fight and see the world for myself! I was impetuous, hot-headed, stubborn… I was so obsessed with trying to do what I thought was right in the short-term that I completely ignored the lessons my father was trying to teach me! Now here I am, the leader of my people, and I have to guide them through the darkest hour of our nation's history. That's not something I learned to do during my time away fighting in North Africa and on board the Archangel. My father could've taught me… he tried to teach me, but I didn't see any value in it until it was too late! Now he's gone, and he's the one that should be representing Orb in this fight, not me! Athrun, I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can!" said Athrun, grabbing her by both shoulders, "I know the task before us is daunting, especially for you, but you can't give up on yourself. Cagalli, you're one of the bravest, strongest, kindest, and smartest girls I've ever met! Everyone knows just how devoted you are for your people, and that's exactly why you can lead them through this. Sure, you may have disagreed with you father and his ideas, but that doesn't disqualify you for this. You know your nation's ideals by heart and are fully committed to them. You embody Orb, Cagalli!"

"Athrun…" she said softly. This sort of impassioned argument was not something she had expected from him.

"Cagalli," he continued, "you may not have embraced what Lord Uzumi was trying to teach you, but I don't think you disregarded it as completely as you believe. I've seen you in the meetings we've had with the others, and you've represented both Orb and the Kusanagi superbly. You stand up for Orb's principles and get into debate, but at the same time you listen to and acknowledge the points of others. You make your contributions, but you also heed the knowledge and advice of the others, including your countrymen. Cagalli, you're not alone. I know both Miss Simmons and Colonel Kisaka are always ready to give you counsel, to let you borrow from their experience and wisdom, and I also know that you've been doing that."

He smiled at her. "Maybe you didn't pay as much attention to your father as you should have. Maybe you're not the leader he was. That's ok, Cagalli. You're doing your best now to guide your people, to provide them with strength and inspiration. You may not have the experience or patience of Lord Uzumi, but that doesn't make you unfit to lead Orb. Besides, you're only sixteen; you still have plenty of growing room, and I know that if you put your mind to it you can become as great a ruler as your father."

"You… you really think so?" she asked, stunned by his praise.

Athrun nodded. "Absolutely. Cagalli, I know your father's gonna be a tough act to follow… but you can do it, and you don't have to be him. You're your own person, Cagalli. You're you. Everyone recognizes that, and they want you to lead as you would. Your father was a great ruler, and I'm sure there's plenty that you could take from his example… but don't try to be him. Take the counsel of Simmons and Kisaka, learn from what they know and what they saw your father do in the past, apply it to the situation if you can… but make your decisions based on your principles, your thoughts and feelings. Don't try to live up to your father; I spent far too much time trying to do that, and all it brought me was misery. Be the kind of leader that you can be. Be you, Cagalli."

Cagalli gave him a bittersweet smile. "You make it sound so easy, Athrun."

"Sorry," he said, "I… I'm not trying to make light of it."

"Hey," she replied, "you don't need to apologize. I know you're trying to help me, and I appreciate it. Really…"

Athrun smiled. "Cagalli… no matter what happens, know that we're all with you. I'm with you. I won't let you face this alone."

"Athrun…" she said, her eyes meeting his, "thank you."

"No problem," he said, "I know this won't be easy. What you went through, losing your father, being pushed into his position… I know that's a ton of pressure. Still, don't doubt yourself, Cagalli. There's a reason your father wanted you to lead Orb when he was gone; he knew you could do it. He believed in you, Cagalli… just like I do."

Cagalli looked down, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "I know, I just… I miss him, Athrun. All this time's already gone by since he died, and yet… this is the first chance I've really gotten to mourn him, to let his loss sink in. I may have disagreed with him, but I loved him. Knowing that I'm not his biological daughter… it doesn't change that a bit. Still, the way I acted towards him, how I fought with him… I don't know if he knew…"

"He knew," said Athrun, causing her to look up at him again, "Cagalli, I may not have known your father very well… but I'm sure he knew you loved him. Your relationship may not always have been stable, but I know you loved him, and I'm sure he saw that. That's why he was willing to stay behind, to destroy the mass driver himself and make sure the Alliance couldn't follow us into outer space. It was his last act to protect the daughter he cared so much for, and he knew you would make him proud going forward."

Lord Uzumi's last words to her flashed through her mind.

"I feel honored to have been your father."

"Father…" she sniffed, no longer able to keep her tears from falling, "I… I…"

Without saying a word, Athrun took her in his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, softly sobbing as the former ZAFT pilot held her close. Cagalli returned the embrace, holding onto him in a death grip as she let out the grief that wracked her heart.

After about a minute she managed to regain some semblance of her composure. She raised her head and looked up at Athrun. "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't…"

Athrun shook his head. "No, you should. It's alright to grieve, Cagalli. Believe me, you're not the only one amongst us who's done it before... especially for a parent."

"Your mother…" she said softly, "Athrun… how did you deal with losing her?"

"Mom?" he said, his eyes widening slightly.

Cagalli shook her head. "No… I shouldn't have asked you that. It's too personal… I…"

"It's ok," said Athrun, "I just didn't expect you to ask me that."

"You don't have to answer…" she said softly.

"I don't mind," he replied, "I mean, I already told you about what happened to her." He closed his eyes a moment before he continued. "I know father threw himself into his work, into the war… he let his distrust of Naturals turn to hatred, and it consumed him. His grief may have been strong, but his rage burned it aside and took its place."

"But you didn't walk that path," said Cagalli, "otherwise you wouldn't be here with us. So… how did you cope?"

"Well," he said, "I couldn't exactly turn to father. Even when he was around, he wasn't the type you could turn to for a friendly shoulder to cry on. In our household, before I joined ZAFT, I was alone with my grief. I spent so much time lying in my room, looking up at the ceiling… wondering why. I thought I'd waste away in there."

"What brought you out?" asked Cagalli.

"Lacus," Athrun replied, "we'd been friends for years before the attack, and she knew both my mother and my father. For the first couple days she left me alone, out of respect for my loss. Eventually though, she came over. Father was out at work, and so was her dad… it was just us."

"And… what did you do?" asked Cagalli, getting a little nervous. With all that had happened, it was easy to forget that Athrun had not so long ago been engaged to the pink-haired songstress.

Athrun smiled, though whether the action was to alleviate her suspicions or if he was unaware of them and was simply trying to cheer her up, she didn't know. "We went to the living room and talked. She started by giving me her condolences before reminiscing about my mother. I didn't say much at first… and eventually broke down in tears. It was the first time I'd really cried since the attack."

"What happened then?" asked Cagalli, her heart beating just a bit faster, and she hoped her worry wasn't seeping into her voice.

"She hugged me," he said, "and just let me… well, let it out. It was the shoulder to cry on that my father would never have given me… the kind my mother would have, if she were still alive. In that moment, Lacus reminded me so much of my mother, willing to comfort me when I felt I didn't have anyone else to turn to. She told me that my mother wouldn't want me to lose all hope, to isolate myself the way I had. Lacus said that my mother would've wanted me to move forward, and to try to make a difference, to help people avoid the pain I was feeling then. Her words… moved me, and were part of why I decided to join ZAFT. Its times like those that made me glad that she was my friend."

"Just friends?" asked Cagalli, "What about… well…"

"The arranged marriage?" Athrun finished for her. She nodded slowly, and Athrun shook his head. "Honestly, I don't think either of us was very thrilled by the idea. Yeah, we cared about each other, but it was as friends. It wasn't a love match, no matter how much we may have tried to pretend to the outside world that it was." He smiled at her. "I'm glad the whole thing's been called off… and I'm pretty sure she is too."

Cagalli smiled as well, though hers was born from relief. "You two shouldn't have been forced into that situation. Not if your hearts weren't in it."

"I agree," said Athrun, "but at the same time, we knew the symbolism behind the arrangement would be good for the morale of the people. I know Lacus saw it as her duty to give people hope in these trying times, and as a soldier I felt I was obligated to go along with it. It would give them something happy to focus on, to take their minds off the war, if only for a little while."

"Happy for them," she replied softly, raising her hand to Athrun's cheek, "but not for you…"

With her gesture, Cagalli suddenly realized that she had altered the atmosphere around them. Before, this had simply been Athrun comforting her, helping her deal with both her suppressed grief and her anxieties regarding her leadership position. Now though, with such a small act, Cagalli knew that she'd shifted the dynamic of their conversation… and she didn't know where it would take them.

She could see Athrun's demeanor shift ever so slightly, and she knew that he had felt it as well. His eyes had widened briefly in surprise… before he moved just a little bit closer to Cagalli.

"No," he said, his voice becoming hushed, "it wouldn't have been… not for either of us. I'd already suspected that for awhile, but when I met you… well, I think that really made it sink in."

"Athrun…" said Cagalli, her heartbeat ticking up a notch as the heat rushed to her face.

"I know we didn't exactly meet under the best circumstances," said Athrun, "but… well, you really left an impression on me. You were fiery, stubborn, tomboyish… the polar opposite of Lacus. Not exactly how I would've imagined Orb's princess to be."

"Don't call me that," she said, looking down in embarrassment, "I never wanted to be that…"

"I can tell," he replied, giving a small laugh, "and I think that's a good thing. The tomboy-attitude… well, I think it's the real you... and I like it."

"Really?" said Cagalli, her eyes widening, the heat rushing to her face becoming more pronounced, "I… thanks." A thought occurred to her, a suspicion that threatened to kill what she was feeling in her heart, but one she had to voice. "Was it because… well… that Lacus wasn't like that?"

Athrun shook his head. "No. The contrast between you and Lacus was striking, sure, but… that's not why I like that part of you, Cagalli."

That 'part' of me, she thought, or just 'me'? Which is it?

"Cagalli," he said, "you're… an amazing girl. You're one of the most passionate women I've ever seen. I know you think that it makes you unfit to lead your people, but I disagree. You have an incredible strength, Cagalli, and you're willing to do whatever it takes to help people. You don't sit back and wait; you jump right into a situation. Yes, you're headstrong, a bit impulsive… but you follow your heart. When I saw your strength when we first met… and when you recovered me in the Marshall Islands… I found myself wishing I had it."

"What?" asked Cagalli, "Athrun, you do! You've taken a stand against your father; you're waging war against him! If that's not strength, I don't know what is!"

"Maybe," he replied, "but I struggled to get to that point, to find that strength. I know I can be indecisive, trying to figure out who I should be… but you aren't like that, Cagalli. From the day we met, I could tell that you knew who you were, who you are… and I'm glad you're that way."

"I… like you that way."

Cagalli gasped, unable to suppress her surprise. She realized that her face was slowly moving closer to Athrun's… and his was doing the same to hers.

What am I doing?, she thought, the butterflies in her stomach now fluttering about in a tumultuous storm, I know I like him… love him, even, but… am I ready for this?

The doubts she'd been having before about her leadership abilities were now replaced by fears regarding the possible repercussions of what she was on the verge of doing. Chief amongst them was what it might mean for their friendship, the bond that already existed between them that she deeply valued. Would doing this change that for the better… or the worse? What about Athrun's feelings? She'd heard the emphasis he'd put on the words 'like you', but was she reading too much into them? Behind that doubt was the fear that she might be putting herself ahead of her people. She knew that they were enduring hard times… and here she was, daring to seize a bit of happiness for herself.

And yet…

…she couldn't stop.

If this is a dream, she thought, mere millimeters of space separating her lips from Athrun's, please, don't wake me…

She closed her eyes, preparing for her lips to meet his, guided by the sound and warmth of his breathing. She could feel Athrun tighten the embrace as he pulled her in, closing the last remaining distance between them. Casting her doubts aside, Cagalli threw her arms over Athrun's head, grabbing him by the back of his neck…

… and they kissed.

There was no hesitancy as their lips met. Whether grief had lowered her inhibitions or her attraction had simply overpowered them, Cagalli did not know… nor did she care. Here she was, sharing her first kiss with the boy she had fallen in love with, with him returning her affection… and that was all that mattered.

The two of them held each other, savoring the moment, the feeling of each other's lips. There was no attempt to go further, no tongue involved, and that was fine with Cagalli. This gentle yet firm, prolonged kiss was more than enough for her.

Eventually they parted, though they still held each other. Cagalli gave Athrun a meek smile, and she was pleased to see him return the gesture. Both their faces were beet red, and Orb's tomboy princess wondered if Athrun was as surprised by what had just happened as she was.

Athrun was the first to speak… or try to, anyway. "Well," he said, "I…I mean…"

Cagalli was in the same camp; coming up with coherent sentences was proving to be difficult. "Yeah…I… that was…"

The two of them continued to struggle like that for a little bit, and Cagalli's fears were swiftly returning. Had it been a mistake? Had they gone too far?

Then she felt herself being slowly pulled back in by Athrun. Meeting his gaze, Cagalli was surprised to find that the young man who had just a little while ago described himself as indecisive was initiating the next move. If he felt any reservations, she could detect no sign of them in his eyes. What she did see… was affection.

And she knew.

He loved her.

And she loved him.

Cagalli smiled again, her confidence returning to her. "Oh, fuck it," she said.

She saw Athrun's eyes widen for a moment at her words before she closed what little distance remained between them and kissed him again. This time she allowed her mouth to open, and it only took a second for Athrun accept her invitation. Whatever grief or fear Cagalli had felt before burned to ashes and scattered on the winds as she lost herself in the passionate kiss.

….

Lacus smiled as she walked into the Eternal's hangar, her heartbeat increasing slightly as her eyes swiftly focused on the reason why she had come down there. The Freedom had just come back from patrol, and as luck would have it the songstress found herself with some precious free time… and she wanted to spend it with a certain young man that she had become increasingly fond of.

I'm glad he's alright, she thought as she saw Kira standing on the maintenance causeway as the Freedom's hatch closed, I mean, I know it was just a routine patrol flight, and his mobile suit's well protected from the hazards of the debris belt. Still… it's good to have him back on the ship.

In a way, her concern for Kira was reminiscent of how she had felt when she had been at the PLANTs and Athrun had been out on the front lines. She cared deeply for her friend, and had prayed every night for his safety. However, her concern for Athrun had been precisely that; worry for a friend. A close one at that, but in the end there was nothing deeper or more profound behind it, despite their engagement.

With Kira though, things were… well, different. Reflecting on it, Lacus realized that they'd been so since the moment they'd met. The young man's consideration and kindness during her time aboard the Archangel, his determination to fight for his friends and defend them even when he was scared, when he would much rather be anywhere but the white warship… they'd lit a spark inside her heart, though she had not realized it right away. Every night since they'd parted, Lacus had included Kira in her evening prayers, her concern for his safety quickly reaching the same level as her worry for Athrun… and eventually surpassing it.

Looking back on it now, she knew that it had been the first sign that she was falling for him.

"Haro! Haro!" said the round pink-robot bouncing by her feet, "Kira!"

She put her hand to her mouth as she let out a giggle. "He's back, Mister Pink. Let's go say hello." She picked up her pace a bit, and it wasn't long before she was close enough that the already immense mobile suit now seemed to absolutely tower over her.

"Kira!" she called out as she approached the Freedom, looking up and waving at the young man, "Welcome back!"

Kira's eyes widened for a moment before he returned the smile and the wave. "Lacus!" he said, "Hang on, I'll be right down!"

So the pink-haired songstress waited as the boy that had come to occupy more and more of her heart and mind since their fateful meeting made his way towards her. Normally a very composed and patient young lady, Lacus was surprised to find herself unconsciously bouncing on her heels as Kira approached. At the same time, her heartbeat had increased again just a little bit, and the girl had to work to keep her breathing level and maintain the image of the peaceful yet strong songbird she knew the crew of the Eternal expected of her.

Try as she might, she was not entire successful. As Kira came up to her, Lacus reached out and grabbed his hands. Holding onto them tightly, she looked into his purple eyes, once again marveling at their unique color, along with the gentle gleam that always seemed to be in them.

"It's good to have you back here," she said, smiling, "how was your patrol?"

"It was fine," he said, "just a normal flight."

"You must be hungry," said Lacus, pulling him towards the hangar exit, "come, let's get you something to eat."

Kira nodded, and the two of them made their way out of the hangar and towards the mess, hand in hand. Lacus found herself wondering what the tech crews that saw them leave the hangar thought as they watched her. It was no secret that her engagement with Athrun was now null and void… but she hadn't exactly been open about her strong affection for Kira.

I wonder what they all think, she mused as they walked down the halls, Haro bouncing along behind them, I mean, the only ones I've really talked to about Kira on this ship have been Miss Aisha, Adaline, Lan, and Priscilla. I'm sure they've come to their own conclusions regarding my feelings for him, and I have no doubt Miss Aisha has shared her thoughts with Mister Waltfeld, but beyond that I don't think it's spread around. Still, the rest of the crew are not blind, and it would be foolish of me to presume that they do not notice my actions.

She glanced to her right and saw Kira smiling at her. Oh, I can't help it, she thought, smiling back, he's just so cute! I mean, so was Athrun, but… he didn't make me feel like this.

She had deeply valued her friendship with her now ex-fiancé, and she always would, but Lacus was painfully aware that whenever she had been with him a small part of her had always been reminded of his father and the unfortunate fact that she and Athrun were both seen by him as less than family and more as pawns in the game of PLANT politics. Lacus knew her father did not see her or Athrun that way, but it was saddening to be aware that her father-in-law-to-be saw his own son as not so much a person as a tool.

With Kira, though… there wasn't anything like that. Hell, politics as a whole seemed to fade away when she was with him. Kira didn't really see himself as part of the grand, intricate game played between those in power; he never had. He was devoted to his friends, the people he cared about, and protecting them and the people of the Earth Sphere. Ideals were important in that regard, of course, but Lacus knew that what drove Kira was the very simple idea that it was right to protect people. It was a purity of purpose that the songstress could only marvel at, and she felt that it was a powerful reflection of his compassionate and gentle nature. That nature was on full display whenever he was with her, and it made Lacus feel less like a leader of a political movement and more like a simple teenage girl.

A teenage girl that had fallen in love.

She recalled overhearing part of a conversation between Waltfeld and Aisha a few months ago, when Kira had been recovering at her family estate. Lacus had hardly left Kira's side during that time period, but on one occasion when she had gone to get him some food and water she'd caught the Desert Tiger and his lover in a hushed conversation. The songstress had only been able to make out a few words, but one phrase had been quite clear; 'Florence Nightingale effect.'

Lacus had never heard the term before, but a cursory web search had provided all the education she'd needed. She had smiled as she'd read the definition, understanding how Waltfeld and Aisha may have suspected that her growing affection and closeness with Kira may have been brought on by how she was acting as his caregiver. Lacus supposed it was possible that serving in that role may have accelerated the process, but she knew in her heart that it was not the source of the warm and tender feelings that had been sown in her for the young man from Heliopolis. As she'd gotten to know him, the songstress knew that she would've fallen for Kira anyway; tending to him, nursing him through his recovery had simply speeded things up a bit.

I even sang to him, she thought, a bit of warmth coming to her face as she recalled some of the evenings they had spent together out on the back porch of the mansion looking over the garden and the lake, a couple pieces, small and private performances. I've always loved singing, and have hardly needed an excuse to do so for others. Still, doing it for him felt… special.

It was a very new feeling for the girl. She'd devoted so much of her life to her singing, and more recently to the struggle to thwart the blood-soaked agenda of not just the PLANT radicals but also the extremists ruling the Earth Alliance. The young woman had friends, both now and in her past, and she was not blind to the fact that her career and reputation as a beautiful singer made her quite desirable to men. Lacus had always been affectionate and kind to people, but romantic attachment was something entirely new to the girl. It was strange, feeling the emotions she'd heard her father talk about with such longing when he spoke of her late mother, but it was not unpleasant.

Far from it.

I wonder, she thought as the two of them walked into the mess, Kira… how do you feel about me? This quickening of my heartbeat, the warmth that comes to my face, the slight tightening of my chest, the tingle that runs down my spine… all that and more when I look at you… do you experience something similar when you look at me? I didn't with Athrun, and I know not if he did with me, though I am doubtful of it… but I experience it, I feel it, when I'm with you.

"Hey," said Kira, snapping her out of her thoughts, "what do you want to eat, Lacus?"

She blinked, surprised that she had allowed herself to get so caught up in her own thoughts, but she quickly recovered. She doubted Kira had even noticed her preoccupation. While the boy was observant, Lacus had grown up not just on the stage, but in the halls of power. Controlling her image, what feelings she let others see, was almost as natural to her as breathing.

The songstress looked down at the table before them and quickly grabbed a tray. Smiling at Kira, she took a slice of pizza from the assorted food in front of them. "This looks good," she said. She proceeded to acquire several orange slices and a bottle of juice to complete her meal. The girl watched as Kira followed suit, and then the two of them headed over to an empty table and sat down.

"Looks good! Looks good!" said the Haro as it bounced up onto the table.

Lacus and Kira shared a laugh before the young lady spoke. "Yes, but you cannot have any, Mister Pink. Athrun would be most displeased, and I think it would give you more than just a tummy ache."

"Aww," the little robot humphed before settling in beside its mistress's tray.

"He's a little ball of mischief, isn't he?" asked Kira.

Lacus nodded as she raised her fork and knife, preparing to cut into her pizza. "Of all the Haros Athrun made for me, Mister Pink is the most independent… and the most troublesome. In spite of that, he's my favorite… or maybe it's because of it. I'm not sure on that."

"You sure it's not just because you like the color pink?" said Kira, grinning.

Lacus had to laugh again, acknowledging the clear reference to her hair. "Well, I may be a bit biased there."

"We all have our favorites," said Kira before taking a bite out of his pizza, "I remember when Athrun was about to make me Birdy. He actually wasn't sure if he should do a robot bird or a robot cat, because I actually liked both animals. In the end, he asked me what my favorite animal was, and I said birds. The rest is history."

"Speaking of your robotic pet," said Lacus, "where is he? I haven't seen Birdy around in a while." Kira had brought his mechanical companion with him when he had transferred from the Archangel to the Kusanagi, and again when he had switched to the Eternal. Lacus had greeted the little bird when Kira had reintroduced them, but she had not seen it since then.

"Really?" Kira replied, his eyes widening a bit, "I thought you would've by now. He's been flying all over the ship. I know Waltfeld and Aisha have bumped into him a few times. He does coop up in my room when I turn in for the evening, though."

"Our paths have not crossed yet," said Lacus, shrugging, "oh well, I'm sure they will eventually. Fate and luck work in strange ways."

"Yeah," said Kira, and Lacus saw a contemplative look come to his purple eyes, "The attack on Heliopolis, Captain Ramius pushing me into the Strike's cockpit to save me, my piloting that machine, finding your escape pod and bringing you to the Archangel, not to mention Heero coming to our world… everything's been so strange, so chaotic. I haven't been able to say with any certainty what the next day will bring since Heliopolis."

"You miss that, don't you?" said Lacus softly, "That certainty, the routine of civilian life… the peace you had in your colony."

It was something Lacus could sympathize with. Though she had been quite active in both her formal career and her political interests in the PLANTs, those days had been predictable to an extent. Sure, there were always surprises and twists, but they were the small everyday happenings that might be expected for a girl in her position to experience.

Everything changed, she thought, the day I decided to join the Silverwind's memorial delegation. Ever since then I became more and more drawn into the war and the intrigue surrounding it, despite my status as a civilian and entertainer. I know just how important the work I'm doing is, but still… I can't deny that I long for those simpler days.

However, she was also aware that had she stayed in those 'simpler days'… she might not have ever met Kira. If the chaos that her life had become was the price to be paid for having that wonderful young man in her life… then it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

Though she wished that so many people had not had to die along the way.

She turned her attention back to Kira as he answered her. "I do miss it," he said, "my days in class with my friends, helping my professor, just living a normal life… it all seems so far away. Still, that peace… I may have enjoyed it, but looking back on it now, I realize it was all a lie."

Lacus raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Kira?"

"Well," he said, "I thought Heliopolis was outside the conflict, but it wasn't. It was involved long before the attack by cooperating with the Alliance, building the Archangel and its mobile suits. All that was going on and I didn't have a clue."

"That's natural though," Lacus replied, "it was a top secret endeavor."

"But there's more," said Kira, "the entire world, the entire Earth Sphere, was at war, and everyone I knew thought we could just sit it out. We didn't really pay attention to the conflict unless we thought it might affect Orb or Heliopolis… that was our mistake. That was the lie."

"You were a citizen of a neutral nation," said Lacus, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand, "your attitude and that of your friends was not wrong; it was quite normal."

Kira shook his head. "No, it was wrong. People were dying all over the Earth Sphere, and we absolved ourselves of any responsibility. We just shut in and hoped it wouldn't hit us too. There was so much suffering, and we didn't do anything to try and alleviate it. I know Orb was walking a tightrope, trying to keep both sides at bay while it built up its ability to defend itself, but it could've done more. Sending out relief missions to help refugees, trying to facilitate dialogue between Earth and the PLANTs, raising public awareness and asking for donations to help people wounded by the conflict… there's so much we could've done. Maybe it wouldn't have stopped the conflict, maybe it wouldn't have changed the attitudes of the people controlling the Alliance and ZAFT… but it could've done something."

Lacus nodded sagely. "Perhaps you're right, but it is too late to worry about that now." She smiled at him. "More importantly, you're only weighing yourself down by thinking like this, Kira. It's good that you recognize the mistakes that were made, but you must also accept that there was nothing you could've done about them. You did not rule Orb, Kira, you merely lived in it. The guilt of the leaders is not your own. Even if you may have ignored the conflict, you are no longer doing so now. You are fighting to help end this war, to bring peace to us all. If you felt any guilt before, Kira, this more than absolves you of it."

After a moment Kira nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Lacus."

"You're quite welcome, Kira," she replied.

The two of them proceeded to finish their meal in comfortable silence. All the while Lacus watched Kira, marveling at the gentle and insightful young man whose companionship she shared… who had captured her heart.

Once again she thought back to the day they had first met so many months ago. I told you that fate and luck work in strange ways, Kira, she mused as she gazed contentedly at the boy, call me a sentimental and romantic girl, but… I truly believe it was the former that brought us together, not the latter. You and I were fated to meet, to get to know each other. I was meant to find you… and fall for you.

….

"May I join you?" said a familiar female voice.

Yzak jumped slightly in his seat as he looked up and saw Flay standing beside the table he was eating at. The young silver-haired pilot had been focused on his food and his own thoughts, and had not even noticed her approach. They were in the mess hall on the Vesalius, back out on combat patrol as part of an eight ship task force. It had been a little over a week since what was quickly becoming known as the Blitz of the Avalon Line, and the new battle group under Field Marshall Creuset's command was just wrapping up its second day of cruising. Yzak had flown two patrol flights in that time period, and had spent his remaining hours sleeping, training… and keeping an eye on the Natural girl now standing before him.

After a moment he nodded and gestured at the seat across from him. As she took it, Yzak eyed her tray with concern; there was hardly any food on it. A couple apple slices and a bottle of water, but nothing else.

She's hardly eating anything, he thought, she already had a slight frame when I first met her, but now she's even skinnier… almost frail.

"Here," he said, breaking off part of his sandwich and handing it to her.

The red-head shook her head. "It's alright… I'm not that hungry."

Yzak wasn't going to let her protests stop him. "It doesn't matter. You need to keep up your strength. I'm not blind, Flay; you're practically skin and bones. Take it."

The words were more forceful than the young man had intended, but they had their desired effect. Flay's eyes widened slightly, but she accepted the food he offered her and took a small bite out of it. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Yzak nodded. "You're welcome."

I can't just let you waste away, he thought as he watched the girl take another bite, not after I told myself I'd protect you. I know it doesn't make up for all the people I watched die at Panama, but still… it'd be an insult to them if I backed out of my commitment now. One Natural life doesn't balance the dozens of civilians I killed during the orbital battle, or the hundreds or thousands of surrendered soldiers that I let my own side slaughter at Panama… but I have to try.

His guilt over his actions in the orbital battle several months ago, combined with what had happened at Panama, had made his brief furlough in the homeland an uncomfortable one. It had been good to see his mother and father again, if only for a few days, but it had also been a stark reminder of the political stance his family had taken. Yzak was well aware of the fact that his mother was one of the radicals serving on the PLANT Supreme Council, and he did not know what she would think of his change in attitude towards the Naturals. He did not know if she simply favored ruling over them, forcing them to surrender and ending the war from a position of Coordinator strength, or if her feelings were in fact more extreme… murderous, to put it bluntly.

He prayed it was only the former.

The possibility of it being the latter horrified him almost as much as Panama had.

A dark and fearful thought crossed his mind. If I brought Flay before her… if I told mother that she was a Natural… would she kill her?

That grim bit of speculation was not his only train of thought regarding the young woman before him. Yzak had expected Field Marshall Creuset to leave the girl in Aprilius One or another PLANT colony when they had returned to the homeland. However, the girl had remained with them throughout their stay. She'd even been present aboard the Vesalius during the Blitz of the Avalon Line, and Yzak was thankful that the destroyer had been positioned on the Jachin Due Line rather than the lower fortifications. Had the warship gotten in Wing Zero's crosshairs, or that of any of the three warships that had swept in to clear the Demon Lord of Avalon's escape route, the girl he had taken on as his unofficial charge would likely be dead right now.

As would I, he thought grimly, had I been in a position to launch in the Duel, to intercept the raid, I doubt I would've fared so well. It was a startling mental admission from a young man who was normally brimming with confidence in his own skills. It was a sign of just how much he had changed.

"Hey," said Yzak as the two of them ate, "mind if I ask you something?"

The girl looked up and gave a small nod. "Ok."

"Do you know why the Field Marshall brought you with us?" said Yzak, "This is a combat patrol, and you have no place here. Sorry, but…"

"It's the truth," said Flay, surprising the young man by finishing his sentence for him, "You're right, I'm pretty useless here… just like I was on the Archangel."

"I'd keep quiet about that if I were you," Yzak said, his voice hushed, "that's not something you should go spreading around. The people here… well, I don't think they'd react well if they found out about that."

As he spoke he glanced around the mess hall furtively to see if anyone was giving them looks. Fortunately, it did not appear that Flay's words had drawn untoward attention. Yzak found himself mentally thanking whatever deity or cosmic force that existed in the universe for that small favor.

For her part, Flay simply nodded. "Alright, I'll remember that."

He saw her mirror his earlier gesture, glancing around the room as covertly as she could. Yzak was surprised at the sudden hardness in her gaze. Ever since they'd first met she'd been quiet, subdued, and weak. Now there was a sudden energy about her, charged with suspicion and fear.

It only lasted a couple seconds though, and the girl's demeanor shifted back into the low-key and submissive role she'd had for the majority of her stay, especially whenever Field Marshal Creuset was around. Still, in those brief seconds Yzak had seen a flash of a different side of Flay, a harder side… a hostile side.

The young man found himself wondering about the girl's stance on the divide between Coordinators and Naturals. Did she simply fear Yzak's kind… or did she actually hate them? He could understand both emotions, but he hoped the latter was not one of them. For some reason the thought of her hating his race did not offend him as it once would. Rather, Yzak was surprised to find that it actually hurt a bit to think that. Not because of her possible hostility towards his people… but because it meant she might secretly hate him.

Then again, he thought, given my past actions, I can't exactly begrudge a Natural for hating me. I hope she doesn't… but even if she does, it doesn't change where I stand. It won't change my decision.

"So," said Yzak, returning to his earlier inquiry, "Why are you here?"

Flay looked down. "I don't know. When… when I woke up, after that masked man captured me… he said that I could help him end the war."

That certainly hadn't been the answer Yzak was expecting. "What?" he said, his eyes widening, "How?"

The girl shook her head. "I don't know. All I know is that Kira died because he was trying to protect his friends and end this war… and I have to carry on his fight. I… I have to… for what I did to him."

It was only the second time she'd ever mentioned the name of the Strike's pilot in his company; the first had been down on Earth at ZAFT's Carpentaria base shortly before they had departed for outer space. It had only been a brief utterance, and Yzak recalled very well how she had not wanted to talk about him, how desperate she had been to keep him from prying into that matter.

There was something between them, he thought, but what?

Now that she had wiling brought up the Strike's late pilot, Yzak was not going to let the opportunity to learn about his old enemy slip away. However, he would not be brutish going about it. The topic was obviously a delicate one to the girl, so he would try to approach it with at least some measure of tact.

"He sounds like a good guy," he said carefully, causing her to look at him, "Kira, I mean."

She nodded. "He was," she said softly, "Kira… he was soft, sensitive, cried more than a boy should've… but he was so kind. He was gentle and considerate, and he cared for his friends and wanted to keep them safe… to keep me safe. He hated this war, hated any kind of violence… but he still fought, no matter how much it hurt him. He was smart, brave, caring… and I used that."

She had all but spat out those last two words, and Yzak could feel the hatred behind them. It wasn't for the boy she was talking about though; it was for herself.

"Yzak," she said, meeting his gaze, a grim look in her eyes, "you know my full name…. you know who my father was, right?"

Yzak nodded solemnly. "Yes… I do."

Atlantic Federation Vice-Foreign Minister Allster, he thought grimly, a man killed by ZAFT… by my people.

"I… I wanted revenge," said Flay, "and… I made Kira my instrument. I knew he had feelings for me… so I twisted them, manipulated them." Her already soft tone became almost a whisper as she spoke her next words. "Use a Coordinator to kill Coordinators… that was my plan."

It was a very cold and calculated scheme, but also very easy to understand. The desire for revenge had a way of making people consider and ultimately commit cruel acts that they would not normally do so; Flay had simply been more cunning than others.

Then his eyes widened as the last sentence sunk in. "Wait a minute… you mean…"

Flay nodded. "Yes… Kira was one of you."

It was a revelation that rocked Yzak's world. All this time he'd been assuming that the Strike's pilot had been a Natural wielding a prototype machine and operating system designed for him. The possibility that his foe had actually been a Coordinator had never crossed his mind.

"Why?" he said, "Why… did he…"

"Fight against his people?" Flay finished for him, "Aside from my manipulation, it's as I said earlier; to protect the people he cared about. Kira… was from Heliopolis, just like my friends. My father had sent me there to keep me away from the war, and that's how I met them all. I didn't learn that Kira was a Coordinator until I came aboard that ship. They said he was a First Generation Coordinator."

"So his parents were Naturals," said Yzak, mulling over that bit of information.

"It didn't matter to me," Flay replied, "First or Second, I didn't care… Coordinators were all the same to me. They'd killed my daddy, and Kira had failed to protect him when he swore to me that he would. I wanted them all dead… Kira included."

The words sent a chill down Yzak's spine until he noted something in them; the girl was speaking in past tense. The feelings she was speaking of had been before they'd met... they might not be what she held in her heart now.

"I used him," she said softly, "I knew he had feelings for me, so I let him think I returned them. I gave him what he wanted…a relationship. Or at least, all the trappings of one. In return for that… I set him loose against his own people, made him kill when he would've otherwise left the ship of his own free will." She surprised Yzak with a rueful chuckle. "I could not fight myself, but I could turn him into my sword. I thought I'd be able to use him to my heart's content and cast him aside when it was all over… the master shouldn't fall for the weapon."

"But you did, didn't you?" said Yzak, his eyes narrowing.

Flay nodded, her hard demeanor softening again, becoming that fragile girl Yzak had become accustomed to. "Yes. I… I don't know how, I don't know when… I don't even know why I'm telling you this… but the fake feelings I gave him… eventually became real. I couldn't accept it at first… but slowly… my hatred turned to affection. I began to need his kindness, his gentleness… and I hated myself for it. I was angry, confused… I even tried to drive Kira away during out stay in Orb. I yelled at him, was mean to him… but despite all that, he forgave me… he still cared for me. Eventually I decided that I would tell him what I'd been doing, how I'd been using him… ask for his forgiveness for that. I wanted to show him that I had changed… that I… that I…"

"Actually loved him now," Yzak finished for her.

Flay nodded and sniffed, and Yzak thought he saw her struggling to hold back tears. "I was going to tell him… confess everything. I was so sure he'd forgive me, but…"

"He didn't," Yzak finished for her again.

Flay shook her head, and Yzak was taken aback by her sudden glare. "You didn't know Kira. He would have forgiven me… had we not been attacked at that moment and he'd not flown into battle… and hadn't been killed."

Yzak didn't know how to respond to her ire. He could tell that her grief for Kira, her anger and sorrow over his death, was genuine… as was the hate she had for the organization that had killed him.

Her hatred for ZAFT.

The silver-haired pilot was torn between indignation and guilt. He wanted to stand up for his military, to tell her that it had killed Kira because he had been fighting against him on the battlefield… but at the same time, he genuinely felt sorry for the young man's death because he could see the dramatic affect it had had on the girl before him. Her already fragile heart, damaged so severely by the death of her father… had been broken by Kira's death.

"ZAFT may have killed Kira," Flay said, and Yzak was struck by how her tone had softened again, "but the one truly responsible for his death… is me. I drove him to fight, saw him as nothing but a tool. By the time I finally realized what I truly had in him… how lucky I was just to know him, to experience his gentleness and kindness… by the time I was ready to actually love him and show him that… he was gone."

"That's why I went along with that masked man, with what he wants," she continued, "it's my fault Kira's dead, that he can't fight to protect and save people… so I have to do it for him. I don't know how I can do that… but I'm going to try."

Her voice was still soft, but Yzak could see a new strength in her eyes. He couldn't help but admire her for it.

He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at her again. "For what it's worth, Flay… I'm sorry about Kira. I wish you didn't hate ZAFT… but I understand why you do." He grabbed his tray and stood up to leave.

As he did so he suddenly felt her grab his arm. "Wait," she said, "please… don't leave me. Not yet."

That wasn't the reaction Yzak had expected. "Why?" he asked.

She looked up at him, and any traces of the anger or guilt that had been in her eyes before was gone. Instead, what Yzak saw was vulnerability, regret… and a gentleness that he wouldn't have thought her capable of.

"I… I don't like ZAFT, it's true," she said, her voice so hushed it was almost a whisper, "I… I probably do hate it, and I don't know if I can ever forgive it for killing Kira. But…"

"I don't hate you."

Once again, the girl had proven her capacity to take the ZAFT Red by surprise. At the same time, even in the midst of his perplexity, Yzak could not help but feel a strange sense of relief in his heart.

Still, he had to ask her a very simple but important question… the same one he had asked her mere moments ago.

"Why?"

The red-head looked down for a moment to gather her thoughts. When she looked back up at him, Yzak could see desperation in her eyes, though for what he could not say. "That man…you called him Field Marshal Creuset… I'm scared of him. He may have saved me at Alaska, and wants me to help him end the war, but… something about him frightens me."

Yzak sat back down, his recently awakened unease regarding his superior officer coming to mind. To know that someone else shared that anxiety was both a relief and a source of concern. It meant that he was not alone… but it also gave more credence to his fears.

"What is it?" he asked, leaning towards her, keeping his voice as hushed as possible, "How does he scare you? Was it something he did? Something he said?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, her expression thoughtful, "when I first met him inside the base, I'd just hit my head on something, and I was losing consciousness. I saw him approach and heard his voice. The way he talked… it reminded me of my dad. It was calm, reassuring… and then I passed out."

Yzak wasn't sure how to react to that, so he decided to wait and see if the girl went into further detail. Fortunately, she didn't need any prompting from him.

"When I woke up," she continued, "I was on that submarine/carrier. That man was there too. When I learned that I was on a ZAFT ship, I was angry and lashed out at him. He stopped me easily, lectured me a bit… and then said that I would be important to helping him end the war. What he said, it all made sense, and I did want to bring the war to an end, but… there was something about the way he said it that didn't feel right. He spoke as if I would be a partner… but I know he views me as a tool." She gave a rueful chuckle. "Having used someone as a tool in the past, I suppose it's fitting that I get that treatment."

"Ok," said Yzak, "I can see how all that would make you uneasy. Still, how does he plan to… well, use you?"

Flay shook her head. "I don't know." A shudder went through her. "He hasn't revealed anything to me. He's just told me to keep out of trouble." She looked at him, and Yzak could see fear in her eyes. "He hasn't said it, but I know he thinks I'm expendable. Whenever I do whatever it is he wants me to do… he'll kill me."

It was a thought Yzak had already considered, a scenario that he was determined to prevent. It would not wash away the innocent blood on his hands from the orbital battle, nor would it take away the guilt he felt regarding Panama, but he would not stand by and watch as this girl was thrown into the fires of war.

Whatever Creuset's plans for her were, he would not let him sacrifice Flay.

This is treason, a part of his mind whispered at him, you're conspiring against a superior officer…

Fuck it, he retorted in his head, I've already committed a war crime! You think I'm afraid of adding treason to my list of offenses?

The young man had already let fear of his commanding officer prevent him from acting before. He refused to be paralyzed like that again. For now he could only watch over Flay and try to keep an eye on the masked Field Marshal, but when the time came that Creuset deemed the girl had outlived her usefulness and tried to dispose of her, Yzak would do all he could to stop him.

"Flay," he whispered, his eyes narrowed in determination, "I won't let him kill you. I promise."

Flay nodded, and Yzak was surprised to see a small smile come to her face. It only lasted for a moment though; the girl's fear of Creuset weighed far too heavily on her mind.

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she spoke, her voice as soft and fragile as she appeared.

"Don't… make a girl a promise… you can't keep."

"Trust me," said Yzak, "I don't break my word."

"Alright," said Flay.

….

Walking through the bustling lobby of ZAFT HQ, Anthony 'Bedivere' Palmer could practically feel the tension in the air, so thick one could cut it with a knife. It's been over a week since the fall of Avalon, he mused as he strode confidently through the vast entrance chamber before veering to the right towards one of the hallways, and everyone's still on edge. That's to be expected, I suppose, but still… the fear is palpable. A soldier should be better able to hide it… certainly a frontline fighter can. Then again, so many of the people here are staff officers, military bureaucrats; they never dreamed the fighting could reach them here in Aprilius One. Now their cage has been rattled, their complacency and comfort shattered.

It was a development that the dark-skinned Commander found both interesting and amusing. At twenty-nine years of age, the First Generation Coordinator was a hardened veteran of ZAFT's mobile suit squadrons. Tall and well-built, with broad shoulders, muscular arms, very short cut black hair, and brown eyes, the man certainly cut an intimidating figure, and it was one he had made sure to keep in top shape with a vigorous workout regimen. The man was confident and straightforward, but also possessed a keen tactical intellect, and it had served him well since the war had begun and before during his days in the ZAFT academy. Palmer was a man that hated political games, and had won his white Commander's uniform the same way the only other officers he had respect for had done so; on the battlefield.

Politicking and brownnosing aren't worthy of a true soldier, he thought, of course, that's something these paper-pushers could never understand.

That was why it was satisfying to see them scurry about in a nervous fit, eyes darting to and fro as they watched the people around them, wondering just who was really friend or foe. Everyone knew that the raid on the capital could not have been pulled off without inside help, and Zala was not being subtle about his hunt for traitors. Fear of the Chairman's gaze and ire falling upon them, whether they were guilty or not, had gripped them almost as much as dread of Wing Zero had.

Commander Palmer had little to worry about when it came to Zala's latest round of purges. The leader of Sorcerer Team had a solid history of service to the PLANTs. He had been on the frontlines since nearly the beginning of the war, and his résumé soundly backed it up. Palmer's skills as a mobile suit pilot had been honed at the Battles of Yggdrasil, Jachin Due, Nova, and plenty of other engagements. The veteran soldier had already started the conflict at the prestigious rank of a Red ace, and had eventually gained leadership of the team he was now proud to call his own.

The team had spent the past few months of the war rotating between combat patrols, harassing Alliance units, and supporting the Hydrian Line of the Exclusion Grid. Palmer and his men had actually been on that last assignment during the Blitz of the Avalon Line… which meant that they had been too far away to reach the fighting in time to make any sort of difference.

Not that we would've made much of one, he mused grimly, my men are skilled, but they have only GINNs at their disposal, and my unit is a CGUE. We're formidable enough to use our machines to deadly effect, but there is only so much we can do with them… especially against nuclear powered mobile suits.

However, Palmer suspected that after today his team would be getting a much needed and well deserved upgrade in the technology department.

He walked through a door and into the reception room for the Defense Chairman's office. The spacious and comfortable waiting area was empty save for the secretary… and a man in a Commander's uniform sitting along the right wall.

Palmer smirked before speaking in his customary baritone. "Looks like I'm not the only one that got a special summons. Good to see you in one piece, Wizard One."

The brown haired, brown eyes man looked over and nodded, smirking as well. He'd acquired a little more chin-stubble since the last time Palmer had seen him, but other than that he hadn't changed much. His haircut was still the same style, slicked back and ending in a functional knot close to his neck. The officer's build was slimmer than Palmer's, but it was still athletic. His demeanor was relaxed and at ease, but Palmer knew that the man could snap to attention and become deadly serious at a moment's notice.

"The battles out at L1 were not too trying," he replied, stroking his well-trimmed goatee thoughtfully, "more like skirmishes, really. However, in my last engagement before we were recalled we had our first taste of the new Alliance mobile suits. Their pilots were nothing to speak of, but for mass-production models their machines were formidable. They definitely outclass the GINN in technological capability. I imagine more of those are making their way to the front lines as we speak. It does not bode well for the future."

He then smiled and stood up, holding out his hand to Palmer. "But I am remiss, letting my musings get in the way of my manners. It's been far too long, my friend."

Palmer returned the smile as he shook the hand of Commander Joshua Lucan. "Likewise."

A year older than Palmer, the Commander of Wizard Team had a service record as storied as Palmer's. The two of them had actually first met during their days in the ZAFT academy, and had become fast friends. Like Palmer, Lucan's career upon graduation had been focused with the space forces, and the two men had fought alongside each other in several battles. One of the distinguishing marks between their service records though was the fact that Lucan had fought against the Alliance's assault on the Avalon Line in 70 C.E. It had been one of the man's standout engagements, with no less than twenty mobile armors and a Drake-class escort ship falling to the Commander during the fierce battle.

I know he enjoyed his rotation with the battle-station's GINN teams, Palmer thought, I'm sure he knew plenty of the people that went down with Avalon. If it's affecting him, he's not showing it… that's just like him.

"So," said Sorcerer One, "you've fought the Alliance's new models now? I've seen the recordings of them from the forces that fought at Panama, but I didn't know they'd made it out to the space forces."

"A recent development," said Lucan as he sat back down and motioned for Palmer to join him, "the fall of Victoria two weeks ago made it inevitable, really."

Palmer nodded. "You're right about that. With the Alliance's superior resources and industrial capabilities, it won't be too long before they're spamming those machines just like they do their mobile armors. I hope we can get more GuAIZs into the field, or we're going to be in trouble."

"Indeed," Lucan replied, closing his eyes, "I've gone over the schematics of the GuAIZ, and I believe that, between it and the mass-production Strikes, the ADB's new machine is the superior model. However, it is more expensive to produce, and as far as I know we're still in limited production with the GuAIZ."

"That's what I heard too," said Palmer, "so far they're just being issued to Commanders and elite pilots. I know ADB's working to get the production lines retooled for mass-production, but it will take time. Even once that happens, I think the majority of our mobile suit forces will remain GINNs for quite some time."

"A gradual phasing out," said Lucan, "just like what the Nazca-class destroyer is doing to the Laurasia-class frigate in the fleet. It makes sense of course, given production costs, but if we take too long in this case then the Alliance could gain dominance in outer space. They are already moving to do that on Earth."

Palmer grunted. "Victoria retaken, Gibraltar besieged, Carpentaria and Kaoshiung soon to be threatened… so much for our grand surface offensive."

Lucan nodded. "A drastic reversal of the strategic situation, and one that was effected in the span of mere weeks… things have gone downhill since Operation Spitbreak."

Palmer chuckled. "Not the outcome our illustrious Chairman envisioned, I'm sure."

"Perhaps," said Lucan cautiously, "but it would be wise for us to withhold judgment on that." He leaned over and whispered to his friend. "We're not on the frontlines now, Anthony. The walls have ears here, and Zala's fabled temper has only been exacerbated since Avalon fell. Best to tread carefully, verbally and otherwise."

"Point taken," he replied softly. He mentally chastised himself for letting his guard down in that manner. Palmer was a blunt man, a trait he was well aware of, and one he knew that he had difficulty reigning in at times.

I'll have to watch myself, he thought, any mistake made here could have consequences not just for myself, but my men as well.

"So," he said, "any idea why we've been called here today?"

"Oh, I can imagine a couple reasons," said Lucan, smirking, "though I was not aware that I would be meeting another Commander here today."

"Neither was I," said Palmer, "you think we're gonna get any more unannounced guests before it's time to go in."

Lucan shrugged. "I can't say with any degree of certainty. However… I have a feeling that another acquaintance of ours will be here before we're called in."

Palmer shook his head, smirking. "You and your 'feelings'… I never could quite get your particular brand of intuition, my friend."

"We all feel life in different ways," said Lucan, his expression contemplative, "I've always been surprised by your emotional grasp of the battlefield, especially in this environment of mechanized warfare. You understand the feelings of allies and foes alike in the midst of heated battle in a way that few people can."

"And I've always wondered at your gut's nudges regarding the future," Palmer shot back, "I remember when you emailed me about your 'bad feelings' regarding that attack on Heliopolis. You said that we had unleashed forces we did not understand."

"And was I wrong?" Lucan asked, chuckling.

Palmer shook his head. "You know you weren't. The legged ship and the Strike escaped, along with the Hawk of Endymion, and went on to become a major threat to our forces. Combine that with their rendezvous with Wing Zero, and all they've done since then… we really did open a can of worms."

"All that's not counting the possible repercussions we could've face from Orb," said Lucan, "at the time, they were still straddling the line, playing both sides. While they were helping the Alliance build that ship and mobile suits, they also maintained diplomatic and trade relations with us. We were lucky that the embarrassment felt by Orb at the revelation of their cooperation with the Atlantic Federation at Heliopolis was greater than their outrage at the destruction of the colony; had the latter emotion been more prominent, we could've driven them completely into the arms of the Earth Alliance."

Palmer nodded. "The attack on Heliopolis was certainly a gamble, no doubt about that. Still, we could not just sit back and watch the Alliance take possession of a new warship and advanced mobile suits. Surely you don't think we should've stayed a spectator when we had actionable intelligence, Lucan."

"Of course not," Wizard One replied, "I'm merely expressing my view that we did not plan for all the possible outcomes of that raid. In the end, it's a mere speculative exercise now. There's not much point in doubting actions that have already been taken."

"That," said Palmer, "and there's the fact that Wing Zero came at us completely out of the blue. For all our intelligence on the Heliopolis collaboration, from what I understand we had absolutely nothing on that machine and its pilot."

"All too true, my friend," said Lucan, nodding, "someone dropped the ball on that one. Speaking of the Demon Lord of Avalon…"

"What do I think of it?" Palmer finished for him.

Lucan chuckled. "Ah, we're back to finishing each other's sentences now… just like old times." He became serious again as he continued. "I've viewed my share of files, and I'm sure you have as well. What's your take on them, Palmer? Man and machine… what's your view?"

"Both are beyond impressive," said Palmer, "that mobile suit is one hell of a piece of military hardware. Such a simple weapons' layout, yet it's devastatingly effective. As for the pilot… well, I'm not sure if this 'Heero Yuy' is the gutsiest soldier I've met or the craziest."

Lucan nodded. "Our thoughts align. Although I have heard that courage and madness are two sides of the same coin."

"Yeah, I've heard that too," said Palmer, "still… I think there's more to that pilot than just those two qualities. You've seen those videos, right?"

"You mean Miss Clyne's broadcast and the duel?" Lucan replied, smirking, "Hard to miss those."

"No kidding," said Palmer, "watching that guy save the Valkyrie's parents, then following it up by fighting her old school… he's unique, no other way to put it. He's calm and focused, but even through the videos I could tell that he's also determined, driven in a way very few people are these days."

"I saw that as well," said Lucan, "and there was more. I know many focused primarily on his actions, but I found the words he spoke to the Valkyrie's parents to be quite compelling… and revealing."

Palmer nodded. "Yeah… he's principled. He's got his own set of morals, and is determined to do what he feels is right. He's also not really concerned with being diplomatic; the way he ripped into Soran Rehema was downright brutal."

"Yes," Lucan replied, "and it was effective. He deconstructed that man's sense of nobility and revealed it for what it really was; blindness brought on by self-righteousness and stubbornness. I suppose one could call that young man blunt… but I found his straightforwardness to be remarkably refreshing."

Palmer smiled. "He's an honest soldier. Too bad he's not on our side."

Lucan nodded. "Not only is he an astounding pilot, but his physical combat prowess is phenomenal. To match a Coordinator in such a fight… it's hard to believe, even after watching that video."

"But you do believe it, don't you?" asked Palmer.

"Oh yes," said Lucan, "that was not staged, no matter what others may say to the contrary. The energy both fighters brought to that duel was very real. I could feel it, even through the screen… and I'm sure you could too."

Palmer smiled. "Oh yeah, I felt it alright. That young man… he is powerful. There was an energy about him during that duel, focused and refined to an incredibly sharp degree. He's not just another ace on the field; he was born for combat."

"And if we want a chance at stopping him," said Lucan, "we'll need pilots of our own that live and breathe war." He sighed. "You and I are good, Palmer, but the kind of affinity that boy has shown for battle… I'm not sure we can match that."

Palmer nodded grimly. "We're seasoned veterans, and were distinguished pilots even during our academy days… but I don't know if what we've experienced up until know can prepare us for a clash with someone like him."

"It's not something you can just train for," said Lucan, "conventional skill and the lessons of the academy alone will not suffice. We need something else, a different sort of mentality."

"Commander Rehema had it," said Palmer, "she wasn't just a pilot; she was a duelist. She loved going up against a challenging opponent… practically hungered for it. It pushed her in a way that the simple adrenaline spike of combat other pilots feel could not. I think that's why she was able to go up against him one-on-one and survive."

"You may be right, my friend," Lucan replied, "and I think we're going to need pilots with a hunger like that, or something similar driving them…"

His voice trailed off as the door to the reception area hissed open. Both he and Palmer turned towards it, and the former smirked as he saw who walked through it. "Well, well… we just might have them."

I'll be damned, thought Palmer as he saw the two men that entered the room, if it isn't the mercenary duo. The dogs of war…

The Galm Team.

"Yo," said the man on the right, smirking, "Wizard, Sorcerer. Still alive, eh?"

Palmer nodded. "It's been a long time, Solo Wing Pixy."

Larry 'Solo Wing Pixy' Foulke nodded. At twenty-eight years old, the First Generation Coordinator looked as relaxed and confident as the last time Palmer had seen him. The man had well trimmed brown hair, brown eyes, and stubble running along his jaw and chin. Combined with his blue jeans, white shirt, and brown leather jacket, it gave the Galm Team's number two a ruggedly handsome look. One could easily call him a ladies' man and let that impression blind them to the fact that they were looking at one of the deadliest aces in the Earth Sphere. The man may no longer have been regular military, but he had been a member of the starting class of the ZAFT academy, and his career as a mercenary was as full of battles as the likes of Palmer's and Lucan's… if not more. The freelance mobile suit pilot liked to go by 'Pixy' as his call sign; Palmer knew he favored it because his enemies were likely to underestimate him due to the deceptively feminine label.

Pixy turned to the man that had walked into the room with him. "Looks like we're not the only ones that got that summons, eh buddy?"

His 'buddy' was none other than Galm Team's flight lead, the fearsome and enigmatic pilot known only as 'Cipher'. Like his wingman, Galm One cut a ruggedly handsome figure. At thirty years of age, his piercing blue-gray eyes contrasted sharply with his unkempt brown hair, which fell to the base of his neck. His jaw line was more angular than typical, and his chin sported a faded goatee. Also like his subordinate, his attire was not standard military. The man wore a thick white jacket with grey fur at the neckline, sleeves, and coattails. Under that was a simple gray button-up shirt, rounded out by black pants and boots. He sported a pair of Colt 1911 pistols at his waist, which took Palmer by surprise; he would not have expected a mercenary to be allowed to carry weapons of any kind into ZAFT HQ.

Then again, he mused, with the level of skill he and Pixy bring to the table, I suppose exceptions can be granted. Zala's probably allowing it to curry favor and loyalty beyond the checks he signs for those two.

Cipher gave a simple shrug at his wingman's words. "Guess not."

The response was lazy, almost apathetic… traits Palmer had long ago learned to associate with the man. The mercenary was an oddball in piloting circles, and it wasn't because of the way he dressed. Practically every pilot had pride in their abilities, and manifested that pride in some form or another. Whether it was simple confidence in their skills or monumental arrogance was a matter to be determined by the personality of the individual, but the pride was still visible all the same.

Cipher wasn't like that. Palmer had met the man several times, flown with him in a few heated battles, but not once had he seen the mercenary exhibit the typical signs of pride that other pilots would manifest. Nor did he show open signs of excitement during the adrenaline rush that was flying, another very odd trait for a pilot. It was something Palmer had asked Pixy about, and had been surprised by Galm Two's reply.

"Oh, I know what you mean," the easy-going mercenary had said, "the guy's not like others in our field, no arguing that. When we're off duty, he doesn't really socialize like other pilots would. He's standoffish, aloof… a bit of a loner, really. He takes everything life throws at him in stride; nothing fazes him. Whether it's an exercise or a firefight, the guy usually looks bored more than anything else."

"More like he doesn't care," Palmer replied, "your flight lead's not very enthusiastic, Pixy."

Pixy shook his head. "No… that's not it. Off-duty, maybe, but in the cockpit he's all business. When the time comes to fly and fight, he's focused… and more."

Palmer raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"In your 'run of the mill' fights," said Pixy, "the guy's pretty relaxed. However… when the chips are down, when things really get dicey, when there's an actual challenge… he becomes a whole different animal. I've seen it in our tougher battles, when we communicate during the fight. Even over the cockpit screen I can see the look in his eyes. When the odds against us are really bad, or when the enemy's actually displaying real skill, he ratchets things up. His energy, his intensity... not only do they increase, but they go beyond human."

"Beyond human?" Palmer said, not sure he was hearing Pixy right.

Pixy nodded. "It's the hunt, Palmer... the fight. No, that's not right… it's the push, the animal 'fight or flight' instincts that we all have, that kick in during times of crisis. I know that those can propel any pilot to new heights in a fight if they harness them right, but Cipher goes past that. Not only does he completely embrace the 'fight' aspect… but he hungers for it. He becomes a predator the likes of which I've never seen before… a real coyote of the battlefield. He'll throw himself into the thickest of the fight, the most dangerous part. As his wingman, of course I follow him in, watch his back… but it's hell trying to keep up with him when he's like that. His moves become faster and sharper. His awareness becomes more acute, he see's openings that I don't pick up until he's already moved, and I'm struggling just to follow him. He's a true ace, Palmer… he reads the flow of battle like no one I've ever seen before."

That whole conversation played through Palmer's mind as he looked at Galm's flight lead. Seeing the man as he was know, standing in the reception area for the Chairman's office with a look of utter boredom on his face, it was hard to reconcile that image with that of the 'coyote' Pixy had painted of him. However, Palmer knew that Pixy wasn't the type to lie… and there was just something about the mercenary that sent a chill down Palmer's spine. As Lucan had noted earlier, Sorcerer One had an uncanny knack for reading people, for getting odd 'feelings' about them… and the one he was getting about Cipher just screamed 'dangerous'.

Of course, if one were to look at the man's combat record, those feelings of danger would be entirely justified. Although practically nothing existed on Cipher regarding pre-war data, the intelligence on his actions during the conflict up to this point was very impressive. He'd come onto the scene less than a week after the war had begun, already the head of the newly established two-man Galm Team. Major fights the duo had fought in included Yggdrasil and Nova, but the mercenary duo that would soon become known as 'the dogs of war' had made their real claim to fame through raiding missions. Zala had deployed them to probe heavily defended areas, including the L2 shipyards and the Lunar perimeter. It was in these probes that the Galm Team had built a reputation for being willing to go where other units, mercenary and professional military alike, were too afraid to venture. They'd hit the thickest areas of defense, drawing out squadrons of warships and mobile armors and inflicting heavy casualties before withdrawing ahead of enemy reinforcements. They were bold, often outrageously so… and they were effective.

The fact that they were allowed to purchase CGUE's from ZAFT, thought Palmer, is a testament to their abilities and the results they've achieved in combat. Those two are worth every last credit of their paychecks. But now the CGUE is obsolete, or nearly so, even though they were upgraded with the beam saber technology we gained with the theft of the Heliopolis prototypes. With the Alliance fielding new machines, not to mention the technological powerhouse that is the Eternal and its allies, the Galm Team is in the same rut as Lucan's unit and mine. Our skills can only do so much to compensate for the limitations of our machines. We need new mobile suits… soldiers and mercenaries alike.

"So," said Pixy as he and his commanding officer took seats across from Palmer and Lucan, "any idea who else may be coming to this little get together?"

Palmer shook his head. "Not a clue."

"Perhaps we're it," said Lucan, "this does seem to be a rather… illustrious gathering."

Pixy nodded. "Yeah, you're right. The two top teams of the regular forces, and our own little duo… take into account you twos' absent subordinates, and we're talking a total of eighteen pilots. That's about equal to the three Special Operations Squadrons that were lost at Alaska… if you're only going by the numbers."

Palmer nodded. He did not care for the Praetorian Guard Zala had assembled. It was not because of his own political leanings; he was loyal to ZAFT and the orders he received from his superiors and that would not change. Rather, it was due to his distaste for politics in general, along with the open secret that the units Zala had elevated to the elite organization had been selected more for their ideological leanings than their combat abilities. He would acknowledge that all the pilots that belonged to the organization were certainly capable, even better than the average soldier, but not all were deserving of elite status. In particular, Palmer considered the three teams lost at Alaska to be near the bottom of Special Operations' skill pool. He had more respect for some of the other fallen teams, especially Ofnir and Grabacr, but he would freely acknowledge that it was still tainted by disdain for the manner in which they had been promoted.

Lucan nodded, and Palmer knew he was refraining from questioning the quality of the Special Operations pilots that had been killed by Wing Zero at Alaska. As he had said before, the walls had ears, and Zala would be ill disposed to disparagement of his Praetorian Guard.

However, that would not prevent Wizard One from delivering an honest assessment of Special Operations' overall strategic situation. "Two six man teams slain in the Marshall Islands," he said, "two four man and one eight man unit killed at Alaska, two six man squadrons destroyed in the pursuit of the Eternal, and the four Indigo Knights annihilated on the Avalon Line… Special Operations has been hard hit of late."

"Only Gelb and Gault survive," said Palmer, "the former has only two pilots, and the latter has eight. Ten out of forty-four still alive…"

"Their ranks are depleted," Pixy finished for him, "they need reinforcements."

"Damn," Cipher muttered, "I really don't want to join those guys. I hate working in groups."

Pixy chuckled. "Understatement of the year, buddy. Still, we might not have a choice in the matter. We are bankrolled by the Chairman, after all."

"Yeah," Cipher replied, "what a pain…"

At that moment the door to the Chairman's office opened, and three officers walked out. From their dark purple and black uniforms, Palmer guessed that they were members of the Defense Council, though it was impossible to say with certainty; that color scheme was used by men and women in a few other positions as well. Whatever their ranks, they looked relieved to be leaving the office. Their demeanor was worn and weary, and Palmer could see the perspiration matting their foreheads and gathered at their collars.

Sweating from a simple meeting, he mused, working to keep his contempt from showing in his features, staff officers… they wouldn't last five minutes on the front lines.

Despite the exit of the officers, Palmer and the others remained in their seats. It would not be wise to approach the Chairman's office before summoned. Palmer may have been loath to engage in politics, but that did not mean he was blind to it, and was keen to avoid getting on the bad side of a man who'd developed the habit of ordering purges on whim.

A minute passed before he heard a chime from the receptionist's desk. The woman looked into the screen in front of her and nodded. "Understood, sir."

She then looked at Palmer and the others. "The Chairman will see you now."

They all stood up and nodded, with Pixy giving a smile to the secretary. "Thank you, Miss. Wish us luck. Coming from a girl like you, I think it'd be a good omen."

The young lady returned the smile, and Palmer thought he saw her blush at Galm Two's words. He had to resist a smirk. Ever the ladies' man, Foulke…

She nodded. "Good luck, Mister Foulke."

"That's just Larry to you, Miss," he replied, winking, "or Pixy if you want to have a little fun… which I wouldn't mind doing when you're off shift."

The girl gave a small laugh. "Perhaps. I'll let you know when you come out."

"Don't take too long to make up your mind," said Pixy, smirking, "who knows how long I'll be in town for?"

"Come on, Pixy," said Cipher, "Let's get this over with."

"Killjoy," said Pixy, shaking his head. He gave the secretary one more smile. "Later, sweetheart."

With that the four men walked into the office. Palmer had never been in it before, but he was not too surprised by what he found. Other than the large screens on the wall and the ZAFT flags behind the desk it was quite austere, suited to a man like Patrick Zala.

The Chairman was at his desk, his gaze intent on the small monitor atop it. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand at the four men as the door closed behind him. "Sit down," he said, nodding at the chairs in front of the desk.

Palmer and the others did as they were ordered. The Chairman did not immediately give them his attention, forcing the four pilots to wait patiently until he finished attending to whatever on the computer had his focus.

After about a minute the Chairman turned to them and spoke. "Commanders… and pilots… thank you for being here."

The formal titles reserved for me and Lucan, Palmer noted, while Cipher and Pixy get no such honor. Of course, Pixy is Cipher's subordinate, but his flight lead should be afforded more respect. He may be a mercenary, but he's also one of the best pilots in the field… and still fighting for Zala, too. The Chairman ought not to be so dismissive of him, especially given the casualties and defections we've suffered amongst our elite soldiers.

If Galm One took offense at the Chairman's curt greeting, he gave no sign of it. Of course, knowing Cipher it was entirely possible he just didn't give a shit.

Neither of the mercenaries responded to Zala, but Palmer and Lucan could not share their silence. The two men bowed their heads. "Chairman, sir."

Zala nodded before grabbing the remote on his desk. Swiveling his chair around, he pointed it at the screen behind his desk. The monitor split into two images, each one of a mobile suit. Both were the new mass-production models the Earth Alliance had been fielding. The one on the right was the Strike, and the one on the left was the Buster.

They may lack Phase Shift Armor, he thought, but they're still a threat on the field, especially once the Alliance starts getting their corps of mobile suit pilots combat experience in their new machines. Attrition among their mobile armor pilots has been high, so they won't have a lot of veterans to field right off the bat, but their larger manpower pool means they can easily make up the casualties, and with these new machines those replacements will stand a better chance of surviving battles and improving their skills. One won't have to be a Hawk of Endymion to survive being an Alliance pilot.

"I know the four of you have seen reports regarding these new machines," said Zala, his back to them, "and that three of you have actually faced them in combat."

Three?, thought Palmer, glancing over at Cipher and Pixy, I guess the Alliance must have managed to get some out to L2 while Galm was raiding them there, before those two were recalled.

"The Alliance," Zala continued, "is swiftly moving to increase their production of these machines. Given their greater abundance of resources, it will not be too long before they can field as many of those as we can the GINN… and those units are superior to our mainstay machine." He turned to face the four pilots. "We've lost our technological edge in our frontline forces, gentlemen… but only temporarily."

The images of the mass-production Strike and Buster disappeared. A single picture took their place; the GuAIZ.

"As we speak," said Zala, "our manufacturers are doing all they can to retool the production lines for our new model machines. Eventually production will be on large scale, but given the labor involved in the process, it will not be right away. As thus, we're reserving the GuAIZ for Commanders and elite pilots… both ZAFT and mercenary."

It must rankle him, mused Palmer, to know that two of the best soldiers in his employ are not technically ZAFT… that a pair of mercenaries are better than any of his fallen Special Operations Squadrons.

"The four of you," said Zala, "along with your absent subordinates, will be given our new machines. You'll spend some time in the homeland training on them before being sent to your new assignments."

"And those are, sir?" asked Lucan.

"Raiding Alliance supply lines," Zala replied, "with most of the regular forces pulled back into a defensive posture in outer space, our enemy will grow bolder with their troop movements. They will let their guard down, make mistakes… and you will punish them for it."

"What about the renegades and their allies?" asked Palmer, "I've heard that Field Marshal Creuset was dispatched to find them. Given the threat Wing Zero poses, should we not join the Vesalius battle group in their mission?"

Zala's gaze narrowed. "Field Marshal Creuset will handle the situation, Commander Palmer. I have personally selected him for this mission, and have the utmost confidence in his abilities. Surely you do not question the judgment of your Commander-in-Chief, do you?"

It was a thinly veiled threat, one that none of the four pilots in the room were blind to. Palmer shook his head in response. "No, Chairman."

Zala nodded. "Good." He turned back to screen and hit the remote again, this time bringing up a map of the Earth Sphere.

"Commander Lucan," he said, "once your training on the GuAIZs is complete, your team will depart with battle group Polo. You will be operating in the region between L1 and the Debris Belt."

"Understood, Chairman," Wizard One replied.

"Commander Palmer," said Zala, "Sorcerer Team will be attached to battle group Korolev. You and your men will be raiding convoys heading towards the Alliance's shipyards at L2. We cannot stop their massive buildup of warships they're doing there, but we can slow it down somewhat, and your efforts will be vital to that."

"Yes, Chairman," said Palmer.

Zala then turned to Cipher and Pixy. "Galm Team, you will be operating aboard the destroyer Kerimov. Your combat area will initially be the area between the Earth and the Debris Belt, but from there on you will be given the freedom to act on your own initiative. Pursue enemy convoys and patrols in whatever manner you see fit."

Palmer had to raise an eyebrow at that. Zala was giving mercenaries free reign with not only new model mobile suits, but an entire warship and whatever machines it would be carrying in addition to the Galm Team's units. It was strange to say the least, but Sorcerer One reminded himself that these were strange and difficult times.

Cipher simply nodded, and while outwardly his expression did not change Palmer could've sworn he saw a glint in his cold blue-gray eyes. "Fine," said the mercenary leader.

"Got it," said Pixy.

"Sorcerer and Wizard," said Zala, "will be given mainline GuAIZs. You two are being assigned two unique variants of the design. They've been optimized to work well with your preferred fighting styles."

Personalized units for the mercs?, thought Palmer, Not what I expected. Although, given that they're a two-man team rather than eight man squadrons like my unit and Lucan's, I guess giving them more specialized machines makes sense.

Pixy nodded. "Thank you, Chairman."

Cipher nodded, but didn't say anything.

"That is not all," said Zala, "from this point on Sorcerer, Wizard, and Galm Teams will no longer be operating as an official part of the regular army, or independent mercenaries."

Here it comes, thought Palmer. He'd been anticipating this.

"From this day forward," said Zala, "your units will be acting under the aegis of Special Operations."

Lucan and Palmer bowed their heads, while Pixy and Cipher gave no such response. "We're honored, Chairman Zala," the two Commanders said, though privately Palmer had his misgivings.

"You will become the new tip of ZAFT's spear," said Zala, "agents of my will on the battlefield."

"What about Gelb and Gault?" asked Lucan, "Will they be joining us in the field?"

Zala shook his head. "Gelb will remain stationed at Jachin Due. As for Gault, they're on top secret assignment. I have Chief Commander Kupchenko working on something special, and his team is required to help safeguard the project." The Chairman then smiled. "In time, you four will be read in on it, and eventually your units will join his. It will be the key to our ultimate victory in this war."

"Understood, Chairman," said Lucan and Palmer.

"Your new machines await you at Fort Jupiter," said Zala, "I want you to get to work immediately on mastering the units. That is all; you are dismissed."

The four pilots stood up, with Lucan and Palmer saluting the Chairman. Before they could leave though, Zala turned to Cipher and Pixy. "Galm Team. You compensation will be increased by thirty percent in recognition of your new role. I trust that is an acceptable rate?"

Cipher shrugged. "It's fine."

Zala nodded before giving a dismissive waive of his hand. The four pilots wasted no time in getting out of the office.

When the doors opened Palmer saw another group of people sitting in the reception area. Two were men, and from their white uniforms he knew they were commanders. The third though was a woman with mid-length silver hair and grey eyes. She was dressed in civilian garb, and rather masculine clothing for a woman at that, with black pants, a dark grey button up shirt, a dark green scarf, and a dark blue trench coat.

Ezalia Joule, thought Palmer, Representative for Martius City. What is she doing in ZAFT HQ? The question stayed unanswered only for a moment before he remembered that the Martius City colonies were home of another one of ZAFT's major arms producers, Martius Arsenals. Of all the members of the Supreme Council apart from Zala himself, Ezalia Joule's position had the most relevance to ZAFT.

Palmer and Lucan gave the Councilor a nod. Cipher remained indifferent, and Pixy had made a beeline right for the receptionist's desk.

"So," he said, smiling as he leaned over the desk, "about my earlier inquiry, Miss…"

"Amelia," she replied, returning the smile as she slipped him a piece of paper, "and there's my answer."

The mercenary glanced at the piece, and his smile became a little more playful as he looked back at the secretary. "Alright. What do you say I pick you up after shift then? I'll only be in town for a few days before I ship out again, so no time like the present."

"Sounds good, flyboy," said Amelia, "I'll wait out front. Don't leave me hanging, Pixy."

"Never," he said.

She nodded before turning to the representative from Martius City and the officers with her. "Councilor Joule? The Chairman will see you now."

The Councilor stood up, along with her two companions. "Thank you, Miss Amelia." As they walked towards the office, Palmer noticed her gaze harden somewhat as she looked at Cipher and Pixy. "Mercenaries…" he heard her mutter.

The Commander was a bit puzzled at her apparent hostility towards the Galm Team, especially since they had been hired by Zala himself for the war. In the end he chalked it up to her being suspicious of people who fought for cash rather than ideals.

It's not that straightforward with those two though, he thought as he looked at the two dogs of war, Pixy engaging in a bit of small talk with Amelia while Cipher stood back with his arms folded, the cash isn't as big of a motivator as it is for other mercenary teams. I know Pixy went freelance because he wanted greater operational freedom; he didn't like being weighed down by formalities and regulations. I'm not sure if Cipher shared the sentiment, though my money's on it. More to the point, though… both those guys like to fly and fight, and since mercenaries are supplements to the regular army that means they tend to get thrown into more hazardous situations. For those two, that just means a bigger challenge, a better rush.

"So," said Lucan, "what do you think?"

"About what?" he replied.

Wizard One nodded back at the mercenary duo. "Those two getting customized machines, for starters."

Palmer shrugged. "No big deal. I mean, it does make sense. Large teams like yours and mine should have a sense of uniformity, so giving us all the mainline GuAIZ is fine. A wing pair like Cipher and Pixy is a different matter. Though they're professional pilots, there's no getting around the fact that they're just different from rank and file pilots like us. Their fighting styles reflect that, so giving them variants of the GuAIZ that allow them to play on those strengths is natural."

"And they are among the best pilots still flying under Zala, mercenary or otherwise," said Lucan, "ZAFT does have a history of preferential treatment for noteworthy aces. I suppose our own elevation to Special Operations is a sign of that."

"Partially," said Palmer, "if that were the complete truth, then the Valkyrie Team would've been given a spot in Special Operations long ago. You and I are simple soldiers, unaligned either way in the greater political struggle within the PLANTs. The same goes for Cipher and Pixy. The Chairman's aware of that, and since he can't find skilled pilots that are leaning towards his faction's line, he's making do with us to help shore up the ranks."

"In a way, I guess that is a testament to our abilities," Lucan mused aloud, "to be held in such consideration even though we're not strict adherents to the radical faction's ideology… well, it sends some sort of message. What exactly that is depends on the eye of the beholder."

"That's why I hate politics," said Palmer, "it's never straightforward. Everything can be twisted to fit one's preconceptions."

"Agreed," said Lucan.

"Hey," said Pixy as he and his flight lead approached, "what's up with you guys? You two look way too serious."

Palmer shook his head. "Forget about it, Solo Wing."

"Let's get going," said Cipher, "we need to get started on sim runs with the new machines."

"Yeah, let's get those over with," said Pixy, grinning, "I've got a date later, and I'm not going to miss it."

Palmer chuckled as they left the reception room. "You and the girls, Solo Wing. This one just gonna be another one-night-stand?"

"Who can say?" Galm Two replied, "She's definitely a cutie, but we're only gonna be around here for a little while before we head back to the field. I'll just have to see how things play out."

"It's hard to predict anything in wartime," said Lucan, "we move from one battlefield to the next, with a few brief breathers in between. How long until we once again are thrown into the fire, I wonder…"

It was a good question, but Palmer had a darker one in mind.

How long until that fire makes its way to our homeland again?

It was enough to send a shiver down his spine, but he would not let fear of the future deter him from his duty. He would fight with all the skill at his disposal, wielding the latest in ZAFT's formidable mobile suit arsenal.

"Come on," he said, smiling, "I want to check out the GuAIZ. We're going to be putting it through its paces in short order. Here's hoping it's up to the challenge."

….

His left hand dancing across the key board while his right gripped the controls, Field Marshal Creuset contacted the flagship of his task force. "Vesalius, I'm setting up for final approach. Confirm readiness."

The destroyer's mobile suit flight controller, a blond-haired man in his mid twenties, appeared on the main monitor. "Hangar doors opening now, sir. You are clear to proceed."

"Thank you," Creuset replied.

"Vesalius out," said the young man as his face disappeared.

The masked officer looked ahead as he brought his white GuAIZ towards the ship's docking bay. As a Field Marshal, Creuset could abstain from flights such as the one he was just wrapping up if he were so inclined. However, he did not want to spend all his time on the destroyer. Creuset wanted to keep his piloting skills sharp, and going out on the occasional recon patrol was a good way to do that.

It was also a good way to measure the GuAIZ. While he'd made a few flights in the new model mobile suit during his time in the homeland, he was still trying to figure out just how far he could push the unit. It was certainly an impressive machine, and the Field Marshal knew it blew his upgraded CGUE right out of the water on all categories.

Of course, he thought as he approached the flagship of his eight-vessel task force, its specs are inferior to those of the nuclear powered prototypes we developed, but that's to be expected. The GuAIZ was never meant to compete with those units. Still, I think I'll be able to give them a decent tussle.

Accomplishing the mission set out for him by the Chairman though was going to be more difficult than any mobile suit duel the Field Marshal might find himself in. Comprised of three destroyers and five frigates, Creuset's battle group was indeed formidable, but when put against the three advanced warships the renegades had at their disposal, along with their incredibly powerful mobile suits, the masked officer knew that event the task of taking down just the Eternal would be a daunting proposition.

At least the Chairman saw fit to allocate more GuAIZs to my task force, he thought as he entered the hangar and moved his machine to its berth, every team lead in the group has been assigned one. We use three man teams, and since each vessel carries six mobile suits that equals two GuAIZs per warship. The only exception to that is the Vesalius; other than Yzak's unit, every mobile suit on board the ship is a GuAIZ.

As he touched down in his assigned birth, Creuset reflected that actually fighting the renegades was at this point a secondary concern. What mattered right now was finding them, and that was proving to be no easy task. It had been nearly a week and a half since the task force had launched from the PLANTs, and they'd had scant information to begin their hunt with. There had been only one sighting of the Eternal and her accompanying warships after the fall of Avalon, and that had been by a lone scout GINN about six hours after the attack. The unit had reported that the three ships' general vector was towards L4, but there were plenty of places the vessels could've gone between there and L5, and the scout mobile suit had been unable to pursue the enemy long enough for a replacement to relieve it; it had been detected and shot down, managing only to get off a brief burst transmission before its demise.

"Space is vast," Creuset muttered as he got out of his mobile suit, "so many places for them to go to ground to…"

He had sent his task force along the same general heading as reported by the scout GINN, but had halted the group at near the halfway point between L4 and L5. Creuset had no confirmation that the Eternal and her allies had gone all the way to L4, after all; they could've changed course anywhere along the path. The Field Marshal had decided to use his current position as an area from which to conduct reconnaissance, but he knew that there was only so much to do. The fate of his mission was tied to the combined efforts of Field Marshal Raan's Patrol Fleet and ZAFT's Military Intelligence. There was little Creuset could do to influence either organization from where he was now, so all he could do was conduct his own patrols and wait for them to narrow down his search area.

Floating towards the exit, he saw Yzak enter the hangar, dressed in his crimson flight suit and ready for patrol. Creuset nodded at the young man as they passed each other. "Good luck out there, Yzak."

The silver-haired ace nodded in return but didn't say anything, and Creuset could see him tense slightly. It had been a recurring reaction in the young man since the battle at Panama, and the Field Marshal knew it was a sign of the pilot's increasing suspicion of him.

Natural, all things considered, he thought, Yzak is strong-willed, but not to the point of being able to go through with the massacre we committed at Panama. Such slaughters are now becoming increasingly common in this war, and he knows I've done nothing to discourage our soldiers from taking part in them. Combine my willingness to allow it with bringing Flay Allster into our ranks, and I'm sure he's wondering as to what my ultimate agenda is.

Creuset smirked as he watched the young man enter the Duel. Let Yzak wonder all he liked. By the time the Field Marshal's plan came to fruition, there would be nothing the boy could do about it.

As he left the hangar he heard Captain Ades's voice over the intercom. "Field Marshal Creuset, Field Marshal Raan is on the line for you."

He pressed a button on a nearby wall console. "Thank you, Ades. I'll take it in my office."

"Understood, Field Marshal," the Captain replied.

It's about time, he thought as he rushed through the corridors, I was wondering who would hit pay dirt first, her or Military Intelligence.

He entered his office and shut the door behind him before swiftly moving to his desk and powering up the main monitor. In no time at all, the screen was taken up by the image of the head of the Patrol Fleet.

Field Marshal Shala Raan was a lovely woman. Not a beauty queen, but certainly a striking lady. In her early thirties, the First Generation Coordinator hailed from the perpetually volatile Middle East, and it showed in her appearance. Her long black hair fell past her shoulders, and curled near the end. Her dark brown eyes went well with her light brown skin, presenting a sharp contrast with her white uniform. The woman was tall and slender, with a lithe frame a slightly modest chest.

Her demeanor was sharp and attentive, as was to be expected; when she was on the job, the woman was all business. "Field Marshal Creuset. I have information relevant to your mission."

No pleasantries whatsoever, he thought, I wonder if she was always like this, or if the death of her mentor hardened her somewhat. Who can say…

"I'm all ears, Raan," he replied.

"Do you recall the third warship accompanying the Archangel and the Eternal during the raid on the PLANTs?" she asked.

Creuset nodded. "According to the reports I've read, it's one of Orb's Izumo-class battleships. I believe this one was the Kusanagi, the second ship to be built in that line of vessels."

"Correct," said Raan, "the presence of this ship symbolizes Orb's connection to the renegades. I decided to pursue that connection, and though it took some patience, my fleet's efforts have finally paid off."

Creuset leaned forward, intrigued at the line the conversation was taking. "Please continue, Raan."

"I sent one of my frigates, the Mata Hari, to monitor the two remaining Orb colonies at L3, along with their resource satellites," she replied.

"Last I'd heard," said Creuset, "the Alliance was maintaining patrols in that area as well. I hope you were able to avoid a confrontation."

Raan's gaze narrowed. "Do not insult me or my subordinates, Creuset. Scouting and evasion are the forte of the Patrol Fleet, and it has refined them to an art form. We're well versed in avoiding enemy patrols, and the Alliance has lessened its presence at L3 considerably since the fall of Avalon. They've shifted several of the warships they had in that area to the lower border of L5; no doubt looking for an opportunity to strike. While it may make matters more difficult for the Home Fleet, it has been most beneficial to my own forces. The enemy had no idea the Mata Hari was anywhere near the area."

Creuset nodded. "I'll take your word for it, Raan. So, what did you find?"

"Four days ago," she said, "one of the Mata Hari's Mirage GINNs spotted a Cornelius-class tender ship leaving the Elysium Colony."

An upgrade to the standard recon mobile suit used by ZAFT, the ZGMF-LRR704BM Mirage GINN was essentially a scout GINN equipped with the Mirage Colloid system used by the stolen Blitz mobile suit and the Wraiths used by the renegades. The unit had also been given a more advanced set of batteries in order to accommodate the larger power demands placed on it by the cloaking device, but other than that its capabilities mirrored those of its predecessor. Mirage GINNs had been undergoing trial flights prior to the raid on the PLANTs; the shock and outcry generated from that fiasco had apparently been enough to speed up the process of producing the machines and integrating them into ZAFT forces, particularly the Patrol Fleet.

Creuset tapped the desk. "Cornelius-class… that's used by both Orb and the Alliance, yes?"

"Correct," said Raan, "Military Intelligence believed it was one of the other fruits of the collaboration between those two nations. Very few are in service; for a tender it is rather expensive."

"But also well equipped," Creuset noted, "it's not every day you see supply ships with positron cannons and laminated armor, for starters."

Raan nodded. "Along with the capability to deploy mobile suits. I suppose it would be better to consider them a hybrid of tender and warship. In any event, I did not call you to discuss the merits of that class of vessel."

"I'm assuming you managed to track the tender," said Creuset.

"Yes," Raan replied, "It managed to evade the Alliance patrols and slip out of L3. The Mata Hari kept her distance while rotating her three Mirage GINNs to ensure constant stealth coverage during their pursuit. They stuck with the ship for almost the entirety of its journey."

"Almost," said Creuset, his voice souring, "implying that they lost it."

"No," Raan shot back, folding her arms, "they did not need to complete the pursuit once the ship entered the L4 debris field."

Creuset felt a chill run down his spine. L4 had special significance to him…

"There's only one place in that region where that tender could've been heading," he said, "only one surviving habitat…"

"The Mendel Colony," Raan finished for him, "and while we have no visual proof as of yet, I am certain your objective is there, Creuset."

"Is the Mata Hari still on station?" he asked.

"This information is approximately an hour old," said Raan, "the frigate is maintaining position outside the field, and her Captain has informed me of his intent to have his Mirage GINNs patrol the area around the colony. Their presence should remain undetected, and to ensure that I have expressly forbid them from entering the colony."

"Good move," said Creuset, "we're still a ways out from L4, and we can't well have the renegades getting spooked before we get there. Please tell your Captain to maintain his hands off approach and continue to monitor the area."

"Already done," said Raan coolly, "do not tell me how to manage my ships, Creuset. I do not find it amusing."

Creuset gave a slight bow of his head. "Apologies, Raan."

The head of the Patrol Fleet nodded. "The Mata Hari awaits your arrival. Raan out."

His fellow Field Marshal faded from the screen, her image replaced by the symbol of the PLANTs. "Alright," said Creuset, smiling, "time to get the other players into position."

He spent the next few minutes crafting an email. After triple-checking the encryption key he sent it off to Azrael. It will take him some time to mobilize a battle group and get to L4, he thought, but I should be able to delay long enough so that our task forces will arrive simultaneously. With Alliance forces thrown into the mix, matters will improve considerably for my battle group. Azrael will doubtlessly focus his efforts on the Archangel and Wing Zero, and probably try to capture either that machine or one of the other nuclear powered mobile suits. Whether he succeeds or not is immaterial. As long as he keeps them busy, my group will have a shot at the Eternal.

His smile then became a cruel smirk as he reached into a drawer and pulled out a data disk with the universal symbol for nuclear power emblazoned on the cover. "Even if the songstress and her steed survive," he said softly, "I can still accomplish my mission."

Failure to complete the assignment Zala had set out for him would doubtlessly decrease his standing in the Chairman's eyes, but Creuset knew that by that point it would no longer matter what his superior thought of him. By the time Creuset finished his true mission at L4, his plan would be set on an inexorable march to its endgame.

A pity I can't simply transmit this to Azrael as well, he thought as he looked at the disk in his hand, but the people who encoded this date were far too careful. Any unauthorized transmission involving it automatically triggers a virus that completely wipes the data, and the only man with the key for an authorized transmission is Zala. It was hard enough to get a hold of this precious disk as it is, and I'm not about to lose its contents to some damn bit of malware. A physical handoff is the only way to facilitate my plan. There's no denying the risks involved in that, but with the chaos of the upcoming clash, matters should be greatly simplified. It all comes down to timing…

He tapped a few keys, and the image on the monitor once again shifted. A picture of the ruined Mendel Colony appeared on the screen.

"Ah, Mendel," he said, "After the Battle of Nova, I wondered if the war had left you behind for good. Now I know that is not the case. You still have your part to play… as you have from the beginning."

He shrank the image of the colony and brought up two pictures alongside it. The first was the file photograph of his long-time rival and the only Alliance pilot he'd ever respected; Mu La Flaga.

"Ah, Mu, my friend," he said, "if only you knew the significance of where you're hiding out right now… how it has bound us together since before this war began."

He then turned to the second image. It was the one the elder Zala had shown the younger after the theft of the Freedom; Lacus and the pilot that would hijack the machine, standing with their backs to the camera. The songstress was unmistakable even from behind, but the young man with her could pass for anyone at that angle… as had been the intent.

What Athrun had not known was that the image was not a still photograph, but simply a paused image from a security recording. Clicking on the 'play' icon, Creuset watched as Lacus and the young man turned to look at each other…

...revealing the face of Kira Yamato.

Had Athrun known that the identity of the Freedom's hijacker was in fact the boy he'd thought dead in the Marshall Islands, the Chairman had no doubt believed that he would've been hesitant to act in his mission. Of course, to Creuset the fact that the Justice had eventually shown up fighting alongside the Freedom indicated that the boy had found out through some other means that his childhood friend was in fact still alive and had stolen the prototype mobile suit. The Field Marshal suspected that Lacus had had a hand in that revelation… and in the boy's recovery.

Reverend Malchio ran an orphanage in that region, he mused, and he did travel to Aprilius One shortly after that battle. He's always been close to the Clyne family… I can see him bringing Kira to them. The man's gutsier than I gave him credit for, finding a way to smuggle the boy into the heart of ZAFT space. A daring pacifist… who would've imagined that? Alas, it is too late to find him and question him now. According to the reports, shortly after that visit he returned to Earth and promptly relocated his orphanage to the Kingdom of Scandinavia. No surprise there, really. Not only would he have anticipated ZAFT coming after him eventually, but his flock of children also included Coordinator orphans, and with the Alliance advancing into that part of the world he surely knew that they would target those kids. Scandinavia has avoided the gaze of the major powers and not been drawn into the conflict… it's really the last refuge he could take.

In the end, the fate of the Reverend and his flock was irrelevant to Creuset. The young Coordinator from Heliopolis, though… well, that was another matter entirely.

"Kira Yamato," said Creuset softly, "I'd written you off after the Marshall Islands… clearly that was a mistake. I really should've known better. After all… you're not like others of your kind."

The masked ace chuckled as he looked at the picture of the boy and the songstress. "You're tied to Mendel as well, and I doubt you have any inkling as to how. Oh, how splendid the coming battle will be. After all, for you and me, Kira… this is where it all began. I'm looking forward to meeting you… and at last casting aside the curtain that was thrown down over both our origins."

….

The Ptolemaeus impact crater was one of the Moon's most distinctive geographical features. A massive depression, the lunar impact crater spanned a width of roughly 153 kilometers and was about 2.4 kilometers deep. Viewed from afar by an unknowing observer, the crater would appear to be simply one of the many that dotted the Moon's surface, but in military circles the depression held much greater significance. It was the home of the Atlantic Federation's Ptolemaeus lunar base, one of their largest and most fortified facilities on the Moon.

While there were several buildings out on the surface, from communications and sensor stations to visual observation lounges and weapons emplacements, those were only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The true nature of the base was that of a sprawling underground complex, one that ran approximately two kilometers deep and spanned almost the entire area of the crater it called home. Constructed in 35 CE, the facility had originally been much smaller than it was now, and its primary purpose had been to oversee the Atlantic Federation's space colonies. However, as the Coordinator population had continued to increase throughout the Earth Sphere and tensions between them and Naturals had built up, the complex had been vastly expanded to accommodate enormous quantities of troops and ships. Massive hangars, dry docks, and barracks had been built, along with humongous storage areas for munitions and supplies. The base's command and control infrastructure had also been given a major overhaul and expansion, while facilities for the construction of military hardware up to and including warships had been incorporated into the complex. When a military officer or government official thought of the center of Alliance power in outer space, they did not think of the L2 colonies and shipyards, nor the Fleet forward operating Los Alamos space station and its accompanying battle groups at L1; they thought of the Ptolemaeus base.

Therefore, it was quite fitting that Muruta Azrael had made the complex his personal command center when he came to outer space. The head of Blue Cosmos and the de facto ruler of the Earth Alliance had arrived at the Ptolemaeus base shortly after the recapture of the Lake Victoria spaceport. The fanatical and bloodthirsty industrialist and politician had wasted no time in directing the massive transfer of resources, troops, and weapons from the Earth via Victoria's mass driver to the Moon bases and the Alliance's orbital constructs. The losses that his side had incurred throughout the war were rapidly being replaced, with the ultimate goal of building a vast new armada in preparation for the final campaign, one that would dwarf the force fielded by the Earth Alliance at the beginning of the conflict.

Azrael was currently in the central control room, the heart of the base. The nerve center of the facility shared a similar layout with that of the late Alaska base, with massive screens along the far wall displaying every theatre of the war both on Earth and in outer space. Most of the floor space was taken up by row upon row of consoles manned by officers and analysts, making sense of the vast quantities of information relayed to the control room and sending out appropriate orders and responses. Azrael was seated the base commandant's perch, overlooking all the bustling activity. His station, of course, was bigger and more lavish than those of the underlings, with real leather padding on the chair and a much larger monitor for him to use.

He smiled as he observed the image currently on said monitor. It was live feed from one of the base's external cameras, and it showed a supply convoy approaching the base. It was a smaller convoy than some of the others, composed of only three freighters, three Drake-class escort ships, and a Nelson-class battleship, but what put Azrael in a good mood was seeing the Strike-Daggers flanking the vessels in perfect formation.

Ah, ZAFT, he mused, how does it feel to have lost your edge, your exclusive claim to mass production mobile suits? For too long this war has been the classic tale of quantity versus quality, and I will begrudgingly admit that you held the latter and wielded it quite well against us. However, that is now at an end. Both quantity and quality are now firmly in the grasp of the Alliance. I hold them with an iron grip, and I will use them to utterly crush you and the rest of your despicable kind.

Production of the Strike-Daggers had picked up immeasurably with the addition of the Eurasian Federation's resources to Azrael's war chest. The Buster-Dagger had undergone a notable increase in manufacture as well, but it was a support unit; the Strike had been given the honor of being the Atlantic Federation's mainstay machine.

Of course, it was still too early for the Alliance forces to be comprised exclusively of mobile suits. Mobile armors still made up the bulk of the group's attack craft, and the units would still be utilized for the foreseeable future in combination with the new mobile suits. However, production of the TS-MA2 Moebius had already begun winding down, and the units that were destroyed from here on out would not be replaced by more mobile armors, but with mobile suits. Skilled pilots were being rotated away from the mobile armors and being assigned to the mobile suits as they came off the production line, while fresh recruits were given the older machines if there weren't any Strike or Buster-Daggers available for them yet. Alliance officers had already begun devising tactics and strategies that involved integration of both mobile armors and suits into formations, with the former taking on a support role.

If Azrael had one aspect he was displeased about regarding the new mass-production mobile suits, it was the simple matter that they could not carry a nuclear payload. Of course, since the Alliance currently lacked the technology that allowed units like the Freedom or Wing Zero to utilize nuclear power, atomic weapons could not factor into the conflict, but Azrael was keen on finding a way to change that, and he was aware that when that time came he would need a delivery system.

The Moebius can still serve in that role, he thought, at least until the research teams work up a means for our mobile suits to launch nuclear missiles.

The prospect of regaining the use of nuclear power for his side was only one of Azrael's preoccupations. Another matter that had his attention at the moment was the latest incarnation of a long-running side project of his. It had seen its first trial by fire in the reclamation of Africa from ZAFT forces, and was now involved in the efforts to push the enemy out of the mainland of the Republic of East Asia.

Tapping a few keys on the console, Azrael watched as the image of a man dressed in stereotypical lab attire appeared on the monitor. "Dr. Frick," he said, his smile becoming forced, "good to see you again."

Wilhelm Frick, former premier doctor of genetic research at the University of Berlin and one of the few survivors of the science team that had worked for Dr. Ulen Hibiki on Mendel prior to the 'accident' was hardly one of Azrael's favorite people to converse with on any topic. At 67 years old, his once blond hair was now completely gray, and his frame had definitely seen better days, though he still stood relatively tall for a man his age. His eyes were light blue and locked in a perpetually narrow gaze, while his hair was cut in a very close buzz.

The geneticist was one of Blue Cosmos', and by extension LOGOS', dirty little secrets, his employ a massive sign of hypocrisy on the part of organizations whose platforms were so opposed to any form of genetic science and alteration to the point of genocide. One of the aims of Blue Cosmos had been the elimination of those who had 'perverted the natural order' via genetic experimentation, and Dr. Frick had been close to the top of their kill list. However, Azrael and his associate Lord Djibril had privately agreed that the man's talents could yet be of some use to them, and had reached out to the geneticist. They had offered him a reprieve from the judgment coming to his colleagues working on the abominable research taking place at Mendel… provided, of course, that he told Blue Cosmos everything he knew about his coworkers and the projects they were involved in. Afterwards, his death had been faked, and he had come to head up several of the black projects being undertaken by Blue Cosmos and LOGOS. The largest at this time by far was the Biological CPU or Extended project, but the man had other tasks assigned to him as well, the most crucial of which to Azrael was his prized 'Phantom Commander' initiative.

His continued existence is a sin, Azrael thought, but we need his expertise. I greatly look forward to the day when that is no longer the case…

Dr. Frick scoffed. "Spare me the bullshit," he replied, his voice a rather impressive baritone for a man of his age, "We both hate each other, Azrael. My working for you is merely a matter of necessity. You would've thrown me to the dogs already were it not for Lord Djibril's counsel."

That was certainly true; Djibril had been far more insistent on securing Frick's cooperation than Azrael had. While Azrael had not denied the potential use they could put the doctor to, the man's work still repulsed him to no small degree. It had taken every ounce of discipline Azrael could muster to see past his personal disgust for the geneticist and take the long view. In the end he had begrudgingly gone along with his colleague's proposal, and privately he would admit that the professor had become a key resource in their struggle against the Coordinators.

In the end, Azrael kept his temper in check as he responded to Frick's insolence. "True enough. That does not change the fact that you do important work for us, and that I am happy with the progress that's been made under your care. Now if only you'd improve your manners, I might actually look more favorably upon you."

"Somehow I doubt that," the doctor sneered.

Azrael's brow twitched slightly. "Be mindful, doctor. We may have spared you when we purged Hibiki's colleagues, but the times have changed. You are not the only man of your field working in our employ."

"No," said Frick, "but I am the best among them, and you know that. Even with all the progress I've made on your projects, you cannot afford to kill me. After all, there is still so much more to be done, and my skills are the key to fulfilling your ambitions."

"Very well," Azrael growled, "so let's start with those 'ambitions', as you call them. I want a report."

"Specify," said the doctor, "I'm not just working on one assignment, after all."

"Let's start with the Biological CPU program," said Azrael, "Are you ready to move into mass production?"

Dr. Frick shook his head. "Hardly. The three pilots I gave you for your machines adapted as well as they did to Gamma Glipheptin as much out of luck as to medical breakthroughs. My tests on additional subjects have not yielded positive results. Gamma-05 through Gamma-237 were all dosed and put into combat exercises. They all died due to a combination of mental breakdown and uncontrollable, violent muscle spasms. Their bodies rejected the drugs."

"Why?" asked Azrael, "If it worked for those three you sent me, why not those other subjects?"

"I told you," Frick replied, "that success was due in no small part to luck. Those three's genetic and physiological makeup was sufficiently within range of Gamma Glipheptin's tolerances. It is a very picky and volatile compound."

Azrael sighed. "So it's unsuited to mass production."

"The current iteration, yes," said Frick, "We have come up with several variants that can be applied to select groups of subjects, but we cannot create a 'one-size-fits-all' compound."

"This is not welcome news, doctor," Azrael growled, "You're giving me drips from the bucket when you were ordered to send forth a flood. I don't want a team or two of your Extended; I want an army."

"Perhaps if you had taken more of my former colleagues under your umbrella rather than killing them, you would have it," Frick shot back, "As it stands now, I have no equals in my field to compare research results with. There is no one in a position to effectively collaborate with me on this work. The staff doctors you provided me with are barely a step above grad students."

"They are among the best medical minds in the Atlantic Federation," said Azrael, "they should be more than enough for your needs."

"If they are 'the best'," sneered Frick, "then I weep for the future of the Atlantic Federation's medical sciences."

Azrael was quickly losing his patience. "They are your resources, doctor," he snarled, "I suggest you make better use of them and get some actual results, or I will be forced to reconsider the profitability of keeping you alive."

"Idle threats do not impress me," Frick scoffed, "you cannot terminate me without the consent of Lord Djibril, and he places far greater value on this project than you do." He chuckled. "Besides, without me, your private project's future viability is in serious doubt."

As much as he hated to admit it, Azrael knew the geneticist was right on that last one. Still, he could not let such remarks go unanswered. "If you do not achieve some serious progress," he said, "I imagine I would be able to convince my colleague to reconsider your use to us. As for my private project, you are not the only one working on it, and the data for it does not reside exclusively in your head."

"No," said Frick, "but my expertise is the only reason its latest incarnation has thus far survived and is able to walk down the path you desire for him. Before I came along, you could not say even that much."

Azrael nodded. "I'll admit, under your supervision that project has made significant progress. Regarding the latest incarnation, I understand that the monitoring officer with him has sent you his latest report. Any abnormalities I should be aware of?"

Frick shook his head. "So far his biological data is normal. There are no signs of degeneration, and the latest round of blood tests shows him to be a picture of health."

Azrael smiled. "Excellent. I've already seen the reports regarding his combat performance during our conquest of Africa. He's really putting the Strike-Dagger through its paces."

Frick nodded. "As a single combatant, he shows much promise. At least, that's what the Captain you put with him noted. However…"

Azrael glared. "What is it, doctor?"

"I would advise against pitting him against enemy elites at this time," the geneticist continued, "He fought regulars in Africa and performed well, but those were his first real battles. I need to study him in more engagements to find out if the stresses of real combat effect his physiology."

"Well of course they would," said Azrael, "if he were to get hit, anyway."

Frick shook his head. "I am not referring to wounds or fatigue, Azrael. During training exercises, the previous incarnations wound up accelerating their tissue degeneration just from the stress of that. This is the first one to make it to real combat, and it is entirely possible that the genetic markers that affect the degeneration found in the other subjects have simply been dormant until now. Real fighting, especially against enemy aces, let alone demigods like Wing Zero, could exert him to the point that it triggers the degeneration. By keeping him in battles against regular forces for the time being I can measure if whether or not this one truly has made the leap that the others could not, if he is not going to be plagued by the same defects found in others of his kind."

Azrael sighed. "Fine, then. Pass that recommendation onto his superiors, along with my endorsement of it."

The doctor nodded. "Very well, Azrael."

"Make sure this one survives, doctor," said Azrael, "he's come too far to fail now."

"I'll do all I can medically," Frick replied, "but when he's on the battlefield, the matter is out of my hands."

"I'm aware of that," Azrael replied, "make sure his replacement is ready if the worst should happen."

"Of course, Azrael," said Frick.

"Now," said Azrael, absently tapping a finger on the arm of his chair, "back to the Biological CPUs… what are you going to do about this setback of yours?"

"I've already begun cataloging which subjects are possibly compatible with the variants of Gamma Glipheptin we have in stock," said the doctor, "we can then dispatch those individuals to frontline units, provided that they're given overseeing medical staff. However, we're going to have to use a new approach if we want to come up with a process that will lead to viable mass production of the units."

"I'm sure you must have some treatment and experimentation options on hand by now," said Azrael, "or are at least in the conceptualization stage for them."

Frick nodded. "I have already come up with a program that we can begin implementing with the younger recruits. It won't be relying exclusively on drugs like Gamma Glipheptin. It's a more varied approach."

"Go on," said Azrael.

"Brainwashing, heavy mental conditioning, and even more extreme training will play key roles," said Frick, "along with new cocktails of performance enhancing drugs and experimental bio-augmentation procedures. Provided we achieve the right balance, we can potentially create subjects that are more stable than the units that fought at Orb, though they may not be their equals in a one-on-one setting."

"But they can be produced in greater numbers, correct?" asked Azrael.

"Theoretically, yes," the geneticist replied, "though it will take time to come up with a standard formula that we can apply to all the subjects."

"Time is a commodity that you are running out of," Azrael snapped, "this war will not end in years, doctor, but in months. I am absolutely certain of that. Now, what can you accomplish in that time frame?"

"Beyond sending you the few units compatible with the variants of Gamma Glipheptin, very little," said Frick, "research like this cannot be rushed, Azrael."

"Then forget your 'standard formula'," Azrael replied, "that can be applied after the war ends. Just because the Coordinators will all be dead does not mean we will not have need for an army of super soldiers. Focus on whatever short-term solutions you have at your disposal. Extreme training, drugs tailored to the individuals, coercion… whatever it takes, doctor. The full Second Stage Extended humans can wait. I need powerful soldiers quickly, doctor, and you had best be able to provide them. "

"You will not have 'powerful soldiers', Azrael," Frick warned, "the subjects you get under those circumstances will be ticking time-bombs, viable for only a few battles if they live even that long. The chemical cocktails I can make for them in the timeframe you require will propel their abilities beyond the norm for humans, but it will burn through them quickly. They will be even more mentally unstable than the units you already have. If they are not killed by the enemy, they will have to be disposed of by your forces."

"Fine by me," said Azrael, "they don't have to survive for long. As long as they can inflict some damage on the enemy before they're destroyed, nothing else matters."

Frick chuckled. "Rabid dogs for the hound master who himself is frothing at the mouth… as you wish, Azrael."

"If you're hoping to improve my opinion of you," Azrael growled, "sarcasm will not help your case."

The doctor smirked. "Hardly, Azrael. It's just amusing to watch you squirm. You're provoked far too easily."

"And you still fail to appreciate the precariousness of your situation," Azrael shot back, "Get results, doctor, or the hounds you give me won't be the only beasts I'll have to put down."

With that the head of Blue Cosmos angrily stabbed a key, ending the conversation. Impudent bastard, he fumed silently, speaking to me in such a manner…

He seethed in his seat for a little bit before he regained his composure. Seeking a means to take his mind of the unpleasant chat with the doctor, Azrael opened up his email to see if anything important had come in since he'd last checked. It was a gesture done more for need of distraction than anything else; he wasn't expecting to find anything vital inside.

The single unopened piece of mail proved him very wrong.

Azrael immediately smiled when he saw who the sender was; his source of information inside ZAFT. He did not know the true identity of that source, only his code name; Iscariot. Azrael was well versed in the Christian theology, and thought that the code name was fitting for the person that had betrayed critical information regarding Operation Spitbreak to the Alliance.

It did not enter his mind that 'Iscariot' was not only betraying ZAFT…that Azrael himself was being played by the agent just as much as Patrick Zala was…

"It's been awhile," he said softly as he opened the message, "what gifts do you come bringing this time?"

His smile only grew as he read the contents of the email. At last, he thought, we have them! Soon we will make them pay for their treachery…

….

The view from the observation lounge of the Ptolemaeus lunar base was awe-inspiring and depressing, at least as far as Natarle was concerned. Sitting across from one of the large viewports, the former Executive Officer of the Archangel could take in the lunarscape and the sky beyond in its entire splendor. The vast expanse of the crater was on the light-side of the Moon, aglow in the reflected rays of the sun. Since most of the base was underground, there were only a few surface buildings poking into the scenery, minimizing man's impact on the natural lunar beauty. With no atmosphere to obscure the view, the Earth was clearly visible in the sky. The blue oceans, the green and brown landmasses, the swirling white clouds… to Natarle, there was no lovelier gem than the world she called home.

However, for all its ethereal beauty, the lunarscape and the sky beyond were also desolate and lonely to Natarle. With the exception of parts of the base, all Natarle could see were vast swaths of rock. It was a landscape utterly devoid of life, and in the light of the sun the woman felt that the view was disturbingly reminiscent of bleached bones from a corpse long left exposed to the elements. As for the beautiful gem that was the Earth, Natarle found herself discomforted by the black void that surrounded it. Like the lunarscape it had no sigh of life, and it looked as if it were constantly encroaching on the Earth, threatening to swallow the one bit of hope in an otherwise harsh and unforgiving solar system.

In a way, Natarle realized it was a reflection of her current situation. The desolate lunarscape was the military she continued to serve despite her increasing realization that it was no longer the noble institution she had originally believed in. Rumors floated through the hallways of massacre after massacre committed on Earth as the Alliance forces regained territory they had lost to ZAFT. As much as she wanted to disbelieve the whispers and hearsay, Natarle knew in her heart that they were true. After reading Mu's email regarding what the Alliance had attempted to do at the First Battle of Alaska with the Archangel and the Eurasian forces, combined with the reports she had read regarding the Second Battle of Alaska and the recapture of the Lake Victoria spaceport, Natarle could no longer deny the fact that the military she was sworn to serve was committing war crime after war crime. Its lofty ideals had been stripped away like rotting flesh from a corpse, leaving only the cold, bleached bones that were its disgusting framework and core… the genocidal hatred that drove its leaders exposed to the world.

The black void of space surrounding the Earth was, to Natarle, symbolic of the fires of hatred that were spreading rapidly across the entire world and outer space. Both the Alliance and ZAFT sought each other's annihilation and that of their civilian populations; this was a fact that Natarle could no longer be ignorant to. The two superpowers all too eagerly fed each other's fear and hate, and the inferno born of it was cascading out of control, threatening to consume all that was good and decent in the Earth Sphere… just as the black void of space threatened to do so with the Earth itself.

As for the Earth, to Natarle it symbolized more than just the home she wanted to protect. It was a few things to her on a deeply personal level. For starters, she felt as though it could represent her, surrounded by the opera of fear, hatred, and madness that this war had become, and plainly able to see the true colors of her nation laid bare. It also served as a symbol of those who were fighting against that madness, despite what her superiors might claim otherwise.

It reminded her of the Archangel, of the friends and comrades she had left behind on that ship… and of the man she loved. Natarle knew that they had all chosen to stand against both the Alliance and ZAFT; La Flaga's email to her after Alaska had made that abundantly clear. While they were now officially traitors to the Atlantic Federation, to her nation, Natarle could not help but admire the courage they had, the sheer bravery and strength of their convictions to take on such an immense struggle. While the duty-bound soldier in her could not abide their rebellion, their treason… the woman in her, the human in her, sympathized with it.

Despite her friction with her former superior officer over the course of their voyage, Natarle had respected Captain Ramius, and that respect had only increased as she saw the woman that had led the Archangel with a combination of courage and compassion that the ship's former Executive Officer could not help but marvel at drive her vessel forward into new battles that made their earlier fights look like mere skirmishes. Natarle knew that her former Captain was a woman who stood strong and stayed true to her sense of right and wrong, choosing to follow her morality and do what she felt was best for her ship and crew rather than just blindly follow orders from above, but the path she had embarked on now went even beyond that. Captain Ramius had taken charge of her own destiny rather than let her former nation lead her to slaughter, had acted to save those serving under her, and had chosen to fight to save countless more lives. Though the officer in Natarle and her upbringing in a strict military family told her to hate Captain Ramius for what she had done and for the fact that she was now fighting against the Atlantic Federation, in her heart Natarle knew that she could not do that. She did not want to do that. She could never admit it publicly, but to her Captain Ramius had become a paragon of sorts, a truly inspiring example of what a commanding officer should be, an example that Natarle aspired to emulate when the time came for her to take her first command out into the field.

Her former Captain was not the only individual on board the Archangel that Natarle had thought about recently with growing respect. Though her contact with him during her time aboard the ship had been limited, Natarle also had no small measure of admiration for the Gundam pilot that both superpowers by now so vehemently hated. It hadn't been easy for her to be on the same side as Heero Yuy. Though the young man's combat skills and the results he achieved in battle were beyond reproach, Natarle had been uncomfortable with his lack of formal status. He had no defined place within the chain-of-command, a potentially serious disruption to the military hierarchy that served as such an important anchor for Natarle, that helped her know her place in the scheme of things. Matters had not been helped by his independent and withdrawn nature; since he had only been willing to open up to Captain Ramius, Natarle had a difficult time ascertaining his intentions and motives.

However, despite all her concerns, Natarle had eventually come to accept Wing Zero's pilot as a part of the Archangel's crew, and a very valuable one at that. Not only were his combat skills of the highest caliber, but he had also proven himself to have a cunning tactical and strategic mind, and had proven to be instrumental coming up with their basic battle plan in several situations, the final clash of the North Africa campaign being the standout example.

More than that though, Natarle had come to the realization that despite his independent tendencies Heero did in fact have a very strong sense of loyalty. She had just had trouble recognizing it before because it was not in the conventional sense that she had been raised to acknowledge. The Gundam pilot's devotion was not to the flag of the Earth Alliance or the Atlantic Federation; it wasn't a nation that he fought for. Rather, his steadfast loyalty had been given to the Archangel and the people on board her, especially Captain Ramius. Putting it all in perspective, Natarle knew that Heero had proven himself to be loyal to both her former warship and superior officer since the day he had come aboard the Archangel, and that had not changed since Wing Zero's combat debut. After the destruction of the Alaska base, the Atlantic Federation had attempted to paint Heero as an opportunistic and self-serving individual, a pilot that cared only for facilitating his own survival. Natarle didn't know how many people had bought into that party line, but she definitely had not. All evidence since the First Battle of Alaska showed Wing Zero still fighting alongside the warship Natarle had once served on; Heero was still aiding the Archangel and Captain Ramius.

He's loyal to people, not a flag, she thought, it is not nations that earn his devotion, but friends and comrades. Before serving on the Archangel, such a concept was alien to me; I only thought of following the orders of my superiors, accomplishing my mission at all costs. Now though, I'm not so sure, and I have him and Captain Ramius to thank for that. Along with one other person…

Mu La Flaga.

More than anyone else, it was the dashing, laid-back, quick-witted, courageous, insightful, skilled, and understanding pilot that occupied Natarle's thoughts. He was her fellow Lieutenant Commander while she had held that rank, a comrade that she had found to be a surprising source of wisdom and strength during their travels together… and the man that she had fallen in love with.

It was because of Mu more than anything else that she would listen desperately for any news of the Archangel. Every scrap of information she could get on that ship was likewise information on his status, and so long as the Archangel was intact, the odds were good that he was safe too. He had not survived for so long as a pilot by being easy to kill, after all, and now that Natarle was reasonably sure the man she loved was now wielding a mobile suit, she knew that it would make him even more formidable on the battlefield. He would continue to survive… and if he met her forces on the battlefield again as he had in Orb, would continue to kill his former countrymen.

Her countrymen.

But… were they really? It was in no small thanks to the email Mu had sent her after Alaska that Natarle had begun doubting the nation that she was fighting for. She had joined the armed forces not just because of family tradition, but because she had wanted to protect people. Now though, the military that she served in seemed less intent on defending its people and more intent on slaughtering an entire race simply because of how they were born. Mu and the others on board the Archangel had seen that, and it was a realization that Natarle was coming to with each passing day.

That was why he left, she thought, it wasn't just because High Command had set up Captain Ramius and the others to die at Alaska… he could see what course our nation was embarking on. Mu… you knew that your countrymen were heading down the path of blood… and you're determined to stand in their way. How…

How I wish I could join you.

Her heart dearly wanted that, more than anything else. However, Natarle's sense of duty was too ingrained for her to simply shove it aside, regardless of her growing misgivings about the force she continued to fight for. She was a Captain now, which meant that she had subordinates who answered to her. Though her ship had yet to depart on her maiden voyage due to lack of intelligence regarding its objective, Natarle still took her responsibility for the vessel and her crew seriously. Captain Ramius had not abandoned her crew, and Natarle wanted to stand by hers and earn their respect just as her former superior had. She wanted to show them that she valued them as people, just as Captain Ramius had valued her.

I'm holding up a traitor as an example to follow, she mused, if only privately. I'm sure my current superiors would be furious if they knew.

Even if she were able to overcome her duty and follow her heart's deepest desire, the fact of the matter was that Natarle simply did not know where Mu and the others were now. After the outrageously daring raid on the PLANTs the Archangel and the warships accompanying her had dropped off the grid. Natarle knew it had her superiors very nervous, and that they were almost as eager to find the renegade ship and soldiers as they were to launch a final, decisive campaign against ZAFT.

We're certainly building up for that big push, she thought, I know we've been gathering our forces around the Moon, L1, and L2 for some time now. The lunar shipyards and those at L2 have been working around the clock, as have the factories both on the Moon and on Earth. All the resources the Earth Alliance can muster are being thrown into this buildup… it wouldn't surprise me if the force we launch for the final confrontation is larger than any seen before in human history.

Of course, when that final confrontation would come, Natarle could not say. It wasn't her place to know right now. All she needed to do was focus on her current responsibilities.

At least, that's what the soldier in her was saying, but she could not help but think that the people she had journeyed with before now, including Mu, would frown upon her just willfully accepting orders from superiors that she was increasingly distrustful of. Also, despite her duties, the truth was that the mission Natarle would sooner or later have to embark upon was not one that she wanted to think about…

…because that mission was to hunt down her friends and the man she loved.

"Why…" she said softly as she gazed out the viewport, struggling to keep her composure, "Why must it be me?"

The answer was painfully obvious. As the former Executive Officer of the Archangel, she was perhaps the most knowledgeable person of it that still remained within the Alliance ranks. Natarle understood the ship's capabilities and those of the people who served aboard her, though she knew that the latter was subject to change.

So much has happened since I was transferred at Alaska, she thought, Captain Ramius and the others have been through new battles and have gained new allies. How they fought when I was on that ship may not necessarily be the same as how they will fight in the coming battle…

Of course, Natarle dearly wished to avoid a fight entirely. A part of her mind was convinced that if she could just talk Captain Ramius and the others into surrendering, if she could just bring them back into the fold, then everything would be ok. They could explain why they had left the battlefield at Alaska, and perhaps High Command could be convinced to lessen their sentence in light of the mitigating circumstances…

Natarle vehemently shook her head. "Stupid girl," she muttered, "that's a pipedream…"

Had they only been charged of leaving the fighting at Alaska, perhaps things would be different. However, Captain Ramius and the others had then gone on to not only seek asylum in Orb, but then join that nation in its battle against the Earth Alliance forces. For such a transgression, Natarle knew that High Command would offer little in the way of leniency. The very best Natarle could hope for would be for her former comrades to be imprisoned with the very remote possibility of being allowed to reenter Alliance service at lower ranks and posts. Unfortunately, Natarle's heart was telling her that scenario was unlikely. The most likely one was that Mu, Captain Ramius, and the others, were they to surrender, would be summarily executed without even the pretense of going through the military justice system.

Natarle was sure that Mu and the others had already considered that possibility. They would not surrender, not after all that they had done and all that still lay ahead of them. Thanks to Mu's email, Natarle knew that they were fighting to end the war without both sides completely wiping each other out. It was a high calling that they could not abandon and had already more than proven themselves willing to put their lives on the line to fight for. More importantly, if they surrendered then Captain Ramius and the others would be allowing the Earth Alliance to not only regain possession of the deadly Archangel, but also any new mobile suits taken aboard her since she had left Orb, not to mention the insanely powerful Wing Zero. After how possessive and guarded Heero had proven himself to be regarding that machine, Natarle knew the odds of him surrendering it into Earth Alliance custody were zero.

Captain Ramius and Heero Yuy would never allow the Alliance to get possession of the Archangel and Wing Zero, thought Natarle, they'd destroy those machines first… and I'm willing to be Mu would do the same with his new unit. I have no idea who their new allies are, but if they're anything like my friends then I'm willing to bet the same sense of purpose and principles drive them as well. They won't surrender to us. When we meet in battle…

…it'll be to the death.

It was the logical conclusion for her to come to, but it was one Natarle could not accept. For so long she had been driven by duty to her nation and would not hesitate to do what that nation asked of her, but now that duty had placed her on the opposite side of the people she had come to hold dear. She did not fear for her own life, though she was well aware that it could be lost in the coming fight. The lives she did fear for were those of Mu, Captain Ramius, and the others that she had once served with, along those of her new shipmates, the ones that she was now sworn to lead and wanted to look out for.

Mu's life, the lives of my friends, she thought mournfully, or the lives of my new crew… is the only way forward for one or the other to be lost?

Holding both sides on a scale in her head, Natarle could not help but feel incredibly selfish at that moment. After all, it was the life of the handsome, witty, and insightful pilot she had fallen in love with that was the heaviest on that scale. A single life that she valued more than those of the crew that was now under her command and care. One man whom she valued as much, if not more, than all of her other friends on the Archangel.

"So this is what it's like," she said softly, "to truly be in love…"

Why did it have to come now, like this? Why did she have to be pitted against the man that had worked his way through the layers of professionalism and discipline that she had put around herself, who had warmed her heart in a way that she had never experienced before?

Had I not been transferred at Alaska, she thought, I would still be on the Archangel, and I know Mu returned to it either during or after the battle despite the fact that he was sent away as well. If I had been allowed to stay, I would've seen him again… we could still be together, and I would not be in this situation.

It was then that Natarle knew; she would rather be a traitor to her country than kill the man she loved. Had she been aboard the Archangel when Captain Ramius had made her decision to abandon the defense of the Alaska base, Natarle knew that she would ultimately have gone along with it if it meant the chance to be with Mu. Even if it meant turning against her homeland, so long as she was with him, it was a burden that she would be more than able to bear.

However, now she did not have the luxury of being able to make that kind of decision. Thanks to her transfer, the chance to make that choice had been stolen from her. Her superiors may have removed her from Alaska to preserve her from the carnage that was set to fall upon the base and as a token of their trust in her, but at that moment it did not seem like such a favor to Natarle. It was thanks to her superiors' belief in her political reliability and usefulness that she was now at one of their most fortified bases in outer space, waiting for the order to begin a mission that she desperately wanted to avoid. She could not run, could not defect to Mu and the others even if she wanted to; any craft attempting to make an unauthorized departure from the base would be shot down. Also, there was Natarle's new crew to consider. If she were to even attempt to leave, then she would be replaced as their commanding officer, and Natarle did not trust that any new Captain appointed to that position would value her crew as she did.

So this is the true burden of command, she thought, having the lives of people you genuinely want to look out for under your wing, taking responsibility for them. Captain Ramius… how did you shoulder such a weight? What strength you have… I don't know if I can say the same for myself.

Natarle was not sure if she wanted to find out, either. Certainly not under these circumstances, at any rate. This definitely wasn't what she had imagined her first assignment as a Captain would be. Officially, the mission hadn't even started, and already Natarle felt as though she were at the lowest point that she had ever been at in her life. She thought back longingly on those days she had spent on board the Archangel with Mu and the others. As strange as it may have seemed, despite the constant danger they had been in, the ever-present struggle to stay alive, Natarle had been happy on board the Archangel, and that was due in no small part to her growing relationship with Mu along with the comradery she had shared with Captain Ramius and the others. She tried to draw some measure of strength from those memories, those times that they had gone up against long odds in battle after battle and managed to pull through, but given the situation she was in now the emotions they stirred were bittersweet at best.

Any comfort she may have once been able to get from thoughts of those earlier days was now tainted by the knowledge of her current circumstances. It only served to accentuate the agony she felt as her conflicting loyalties warred within her heart. Love and duty clashed with a brutality that felt as visceral as that of the actual combat between the Earth Alliance and ZAFT, and Natarle feared that she may well be consumed by the pain of her inner conflict just as much as her world would be destroyed by the fires of war.

Her usual cool and professional demeanor was cracked and frayed by her inner turmoil, and as Natarle looked out the window she could feel the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"How…" she whispered, mustering what strength she could to fight back the tears that threatened to fall," "How did it come to this?"

As if fate had decided to play yet another cruel joke on her, it was at that moment that a message rang out over the intercom. "Captain Natarle Badgiruel," said a male voice, "Report to dock A13! Repeat, Captain Badgiruel, report to dock A13!"

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. There was only one reason why they would summon her there now.

The time to launch her mission had come.

Opening her eyes, she took one last look out at the lunarscape and the Earth beyond. "Mu…" she said, "Captain Ramius… everyone… I'm sorry."

Preview for next time!

The reprieve from combat comes to an end for the Three Ships Alliance as both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT forces come calling to L4. As the Archangel and her allies scramble for battle they soon find themselves confronting old friends in the midst of both forces. While Murrue, Heero, and their comrades simply fight to survive and repel the enemy, the engagement is not entirely what it seems. Drawn into the heart of the Mendel Colony by none other than Field Marshal Creuset, Kira Yamato and Mu La Flaga will at last confront the heart of the festering evil that has influenced both superpowers and driven them into a war of extermination. Next time, on "Journey to a New Battlefield", Episode Twenty-Four: Dominion.

"Let me please introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reached bombay
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game"

The Rolling Stones, "Sympathy for the Devil"

Author's notes: Well, credit where credit is due. First off, a big thanks to fellow writer EpyonZero23: that bit with Murrue slipping Heero her Takoyaki ball in the kiss was inspired from a scene in his VERY good romance fic, "Haruka's Wings".

Second, the commanders of Sorcerer and Wizard Team, along with both members of the Galm Team, are based on characters from Ace Combat Zero: The Belkan War, as have many other characters throughout this story as you've no doubt noticed. However, when it came to Cipher's casual appearance, my model was actually the Resurreción of Espada Number One, Coyote Starrk, from Bleach. Couldn't help it, I've always thought it was just plain kickass, and Starrk's my second favorite Espada (Harribel's number one for me!). Cipher also borrows some elements of Starrk's personality (since Cipher's the player character in Ace Combat Zero, I didn't have a personality model to work with beyond what other characters describe him as in game, so I decided to seek some outside inspiration), though other elements deviate from what he shows in Bleach. Anyway, neither Galm nor the other two new Special Operations Squadrons will be seeing battle in the next chapter, but their time is coming, especially Galm's.

Third, the Field Marshal of the Patrol Fleet, Shala Raan, was named for Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay from Mass Effect 2 and 3, and the fleet name is a shout out to the fleet she commands in 3. As for her appearance, that's completely original. After all, in-game she's Quarian, and if you play the Mass Effect series then you know what that means; face behind mask 24/7.

Ok, I know Athrun and Cagalli don't really 'hook up' per se until close to the final battle, but I felt like speeding things up a bit. Hey, the girl's going through a lot, and she's got the right to take comfort where she can find it. Besides, romance in wartime isn't like love in peacetime; it's a lot more unpredictable.

Thanks for sticking with me throughout this fic. Again, sorry for the long wait between updates. Can't make any promises on when the next chapter will be out, but it shouldn't be as long as this one was. Please review, and until next time everyone!