Characters: None
Pairings: None
Time frame: post second Battle of Orb
Three happenings
"We were facing the Archangel-"
A spit in the face.
No one on the Minerva has truly believed in the Archangel's destruction during operation Angel Down. Taking both ships' histories into account it is the kind of lucky stroke that simply doesn't happen. Yet, a persistent hopeful whisper of maybe has remained…
Battle-ready appearance at ORB of all places however has been unexpected.
"-the Freedom-"
A punch in the gut.
It has been seen, it has been celebrated. The Freedom has been destroyed. Stabbed and exploded. It has given them hope, believe, faith, inspired awe that there is someone on their side more capable than the most legendary force on the battlefield.
Except it isn't true. It is still there, and it still dominates with its very presence. It is the kind of overwhelming existence where even double teamed by the Force's most capable pilots not a scratch is to be put on it. Against all odds, hopes and claims.
Despite it all, Freedom still flies.
"-and you could even say the Justice."
A stab in the back.
Everyone knows who has piloted that suit.
Consequently everyone know who pilots that suit.
Its appearance has hit the Minerva with shock, renewed betrayal and disbelief.
Athrun Zala has been well respected and admired. His demeanor has been focus and reserved but kind, sometimes a bit awkward. His skills until his destruction has been matched by only his former comrade-in-arms.
And now?
The Justice is flying again, shooting sharper and more determined than ever. Speed, aggressiveness, precision; an utmost different level of ability is displayed. Deployed never for them and only now it is used without any hesitation.
Athrun Zala is alive and Justice soars aside Freedom, shooting. At them.