Rauld groaned and rubbed his hands over his face as he finished his paperwork. It had taken hours and as much as he'd disliked it before he hated it even more now. He better understood why the cinema trope of heroic officers hating paperwork, because he had just finished signing his name on a form that confirmed Petty Officer Second Class Garvi "Biter" Thelgan's status change from Missing in Action to Killed in Action.

After Major Rancher's Blue Team joined them and the shuttles and lifeboats escaped to Scylla's surface, they had little choice but to retreat immediately to avoid further attack. They didn't have the chance to look for survivors.

They ran into a CSF scout division which escorted them to friendly space. Their squadron was accommodated right away but Major Rancher and Blue Team had to stay out for at least another hour due to the classified nature of the mobile suits. He still didn't know where they ultimately went or what happened to Red Team.

Rauld wondered why Biter had done it. He must've known he would die doing it. Had he even cared at that point? What had driven him to that?

A chime sounded and he sighed. "Enter."

The door opened and Sunni stepped in, immaculately groomed and dressed. It was still novel seeing her wearing her uniform up to standard. She had even begun occasionally tying her tentacles behind her head. Her skin had also improved in colour and her eyes seemed less dull than before.

"You wanted to see me?"

Rauld relaxed in his seat and nodded at the chair across the desk. "Yeah. I assume everyone's heard about Biter?"

"Yup." She sat down, her posture not as hunched as it had once been. She still needed to work on it but he wasn't about to nitpick given how much she'd improved since Knossos.

"What does everyone think?"

"Not much. Nobody seems really surprised. Outside of our flight, pretty much everyone thought he was crazy anyway."

Rauld tapped his hand on the desk, pondering that notion. "Was he crazy?"

"He was crazy for Mouse, if that counts. Maybe she was the one keeping him sane."

Rauld bit his lip and he felt the bitter self loathing he had become almost intimate with since Knossos. "I never noticed. Probably had my head up too damn high."

"Which kinda' surprises me."

Rauld looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

She pulsed grey. "Sealer was always coming down on you for something or nothing, but you never really seemed to change anything about what you did, unless it was at our expense. I always thought you stayed the way you were 'cause you had a silver stick up your funnel, but seeing how you've been lately I feel like that's not the case."

Rauld smiled at himself. "Well I can understand how you'd think that way. The old me would have barked your otoliths off for talking to an officer like that."

She smiled back. "So? How come Sealer never managed to bring your head down enough?"

Rauld scratched his cheek. "Not entirely sure, but I know part of it was because Sealer wasn't coming down on me because he wanted me to be a better officer, it was because he hated me. Actually, I'm pretty sure he still hates me; he just quit wasting energy on expressing it. Out there he probably didn't have the energy to spare." He flashed grey. "Doesn't matter, won't be seeing him much longer."

Sunni frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the squadron's being broken up. With Sealer being transferred, Flemmer dead, and Grinner and I as fresh ensigns, it's just easier for the CSF to send us to replenish squadrons in a more complete state than to build us back up. There's hardly any of us left."

Of the ten pilots of the 52nd squadron who had gone into battle over Scylla, seven remained. It would have been much worse had the mobile suits not done such a good job of keeping the enemy's attention. He also put Hypori's advice as another reason so many of them had survived.

Sunni's frown deepened and became decidedly unhappy. "After people just started to get things worked out."

"Yeah…" Rauld felt like he'd really dropped the ball. He'd spent so much time worrying about bringing glory to the family name, to show himself worthy of the prestige his family enjoyed, but looking back on it all he felt like a fool. He had lost his flight NCO in front of his own eyes, seen one of his pilots torn up, and he'd lost another as much to grief as to the enemy. There hadn't been anything glorious about any of that.

"Sealer's been selected for additional training, maybe in recognition of what the squadron accomplished. Maybe some of that recognition will trickle down to the rest of us."

Sunni was staring down at her hands as they pulled on each other in her lap. Her mantle had turned a dark gloomy grey, which Rauld used to think was her natural colour.

"I don't want to leave." Her voice was quiet and unusually brittle. He had never heard this tone from Sunni before. Maybe he wasn't the only one feeling regrets.

Rauld smiled sympathetically. "I feel the same way. There's a chance they'll keep the flights together though. It's reasonably common practice among Ball squadrons. Besides, given your record they'll want someone who can handle you."

Sunni looked at him with upturned eyes. Those dark purple orbs searched him as if looking for a lie, then they gleamed and amusement bubbled in her mantle. "Maybe. Not that you were ever able to handle me though."

He laughed and opened his hands. "Just pretend for a while and maybe they'll believe it. Oh, that reminds me, I got an update on Tank too. She's recovering and should be able to return to duty in about a month. Maybe they'll come up with Balls that have bigger cockpits by then."

Sunni laughed too. It was a beautiful laugh, and Rauld suspected Sunni hadn't done much laughing in her life. Maybe she'd had nothing worth laughing about. Who would have thought anyone could find a joy they'd been missing in something as terrible as war? Or maybe things like this happened so that they could get through things as terrible as war. Either way, finding that laugh was more precious to Rauld than finding glory had ever been, and in that moment, Rauld wanted nothing more than to protect that laugh, and that was a much better cause to fight for than any glory or honour.

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Sahna stood at rigid attention, doing her best not to move the slightest muscle or breathe too loudly as Colonel Argent pinned the Bronze Cluster to her tunic in recognition of her valour. Hers was just one of many such awards being handed out today. The Silver Cluster on Major Rancher and Marie's tunics looked brilliant even among the other medals they wore.

Sahna thought it ironic that she had often dreamed of earning medals before the war, but after enlisting she never thought about them even once before finding out she'd earned one. She was too busy trying to do her job, trying to survive and protect her comrades. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to protect all her comrades this time.

Everyone watched as Colonel Argent walked slowly to the table covered in an immaculate white cloth and pinned the last Bronze Cluster to the portrait-sized piece of cloth standing up upon the table, under the name Second-Lieutenant Erin Stopper.

Sahna knew that she should be glad any of them had survived that battle. Even as it was, the rest of them had survived by the thinnest of margins and with no small amount of luck. Lt. Wanderer's suit had suffered a crippling malfunction near the end of the fight but even then they had been able to drag them to safety. Still, Stopper's loss made that remarkable result feel hollow somehow, as if it were incomplete.

Argent saluted the small memorial and the rest of them did the same, honouring their absent comrade. The medal would be shipped to his family, though they were all aware it wasn't much of a consolation.

Argent then spun on his heel and addressed them. "Well done, all of you. You've made the nation proud and myself more than proud. Against all odds you managed to carry the day and people are noticing. You've effectively solidified people's faith in the mobile suit program and in addition to those medals, earned yourself a week of RnR in Messi."

Out the corner of her eye, Sahna saw Hypori's eyes shine. Messi was Scylla's capital city; yet another place Sahna had never been. Despite the war, she was starting to enjoy the adventure that came along with it, though part of her still longed for home.

After they were dismissed, Hypori began bouncing around like a toddler expecting ice cream. "Oooh, I've always wanted to visit Messi. It's supposed to be one of the prettiest cities in space. I've already got a list of things we can do.

Sahna looked at her. "What do you mean, 'we'?"

Hypori flashed burgundy. "Oh please. If I left you two up to your own devices, you'd just lay around moping and Dirk would just lay around reading. You guys do that all the time already. If we're going to be in Messi, you better believe we're going to see the sights, check out the attractions, maybe even watch a movie. You know, live life while we have it."

Dirk grunted. "Fine, if you help."

Hypori arched an eyebrow. "Help?"

"Need present for Mom and Clanna."

Hypori's eyes sparkled. "Ooh, yeah we gotta' do some shopping while we're there."

Sahna stroked her tentacle thoughtfully. "I guess I could get something for my parents too. It would go well with my next letter."

Hypori giggled. "Yeah, you can tell them all about the new medals you got. People love bragging about their kids, after all."

Sahna smiled fondly. "No, my parents have never been that type. Well, maybe Mama was, a little. Besides, if I tell them about the medals they'll just worry. I'll just get them a present and let them know I'm doing my best."

And as long as her best was good enough for the White Devils, it was good enough for her.

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"You really expected a court martial? I think you've been reading the news too much, Captain."

Varmos ignored Blackhill's laughter as they floated down some familiar corridors at Fortress Gibraltar. It had been just over a week since Audacity's loss and he still felt it keenly, as did many of the crew.

"I lost a brand new ship on her first real mission, and got myself caught."

"Yes, but the circumstances were understandable." Blackhill spun in place to face him. "And while you might have lost the ship itself you succeeded in your mission gathering intelligence on the new enemy weapon and destroyed their secret base. You also eliminated one of the most dangerous and largest pirate groups in the Fos System, including the capture of the infamous Rosi the Black; heavily damaged three enemy cruisers, destroyed over a dozen mobile suits in space, then helped all but wipe out an entire battalion of them after crashing your ship on the surface. And at the end of it all, the vast majority of your crew survived. If that isn't worthy of a Gold Cluster, I don't know what is."

"I know what a gold cluster is worth," he said darkly. "I have enough of 'em in my closet at home that I aught to know. This is just another medal for the pile."

Blackhill pulsed blue and turned back around. "Regardless, while Audcity's loss is unfortunate, the data you brought back is priceless. A lot of changes are happening in the fleet right now and more will be coming in the near future."

"Such as?"

Blackhill didn't answer him immediately. Instead, he waited until they were in an observation lounge overlooking one of Gibraltar's secure construction docks.

"Such as your new ship."

Varmos turned his gaze toward the window and stared.

The ship that was taking shape in the dock wasn't quite like anything he'd ever seen. She wasn't as big as Audacity, but he could see two catapult launch decks mounted on a pair of legs on the forward part of the ship. The bridge was mounted closer to the hull, making it less exposed than those of existing cruisers in the fleet, and at the rear of the ship were two large engine blocks.

"What is she?" He asked.

Blackhill chuckled. "Her name is Pegasus. She's the newest ship type in the Federation. They don't have an official designation yet, but for the time being we're calling them 'assault carriers'. They're designed to carry a team of mobile suits to conduct special forces operations or smaller ops where support isn't available. In other words, ideal for what you just went through."

Varmos gripped the rail next to the window. The ship still lacked its paint and many panels were missing, but he could see locations where guns were waiting to be fitted, and it looked like they were going for an armament similar to what Audacity had but more refined and in a proper warship hull.

He frowned as he remembered something. "I thought that since the CSF wasn't totally sure regarding mobile suits they wouldn't have had a dedicated mobile suit carrier in the works. Even Audacity was originally designed as a generic carrier for fighters, bombers, and whatever else could fit in her."

Blackhill flashed green and turned to face out the window. "You're right, but this isn't a CSF ship; it technically belongs to the Special Forces. Admiral Cuttlefish himself signed the construction order for these. He figured the special forces would have a use for mobile suits before the war even began, so SF started design studies to come up with a ship that would fit their anticipated mission profile, while also able to accommodate any mobile suits in development.

"The CSF is now looking more seriously into mobile suit carriers and that means Audacity has a lot of sisters on the way. They'll all benefit from the lessons she had to learn the hard way."

Varmos lifted his eyebrows. "Does that mean the Mobile Suit Program is going ahead?"

"It certainly looks that way. But until we can build a heck of a lot of them, these ships and the small teams they carry will be the ones holding the line and making the enemy miserable behind the lines. They say it'll take anywhere from six months to a year before we can field any meaningful mobile suit forces in front line engagements, at least up here. The Army already has a factory churning out new mobile suits on Terra and after the GM design has been finalized, there will be factories all over the Federation churning them out as fast as possible."

Varmos faced the window again, frowning. "Targets for the Collective's own special forces."

Blackhill's face turned serious. "Yes, which is another reason these ships are so important. They aren't being built for easy missions, they're being built for high-risk. We think that after we debuted our own mobile suit force and used them for such missions, they got the same idea of having dedicated special ops or commando mobile suit teams. They've been wrecking havoc all over Terra. Only a matter of time until they start doing the same thing up here."

Varmos nodded, his grip tight on the rail. The admiral was right. The Federation had been forced on the defensive so long that the Collective operated almost with impunity, picking and choosing where they struck, while the Federation was always reactive and rarely able to hit back.

Audacity's mission had been about more than gathering intelligence and wiping out pirates, it had been about showing everyone that the Federation was still capable of hitting the enemy in places they didn't expect.

"I have another surprise for you." Blackhill's face was split in a huge grin.

"I'm not sure how many more surprises I can take."

"Oh don't worry, you'll like this one. I managed to secure a live comm link to your family on Terra. They should be waiting for you about now." He gestured to one of the small offices near the observation lounge. "You can make the call in there."

Varmos' face went completely blank. He was… stunned. Live communication between Terra and her space colonies and stations other than Guardian Station, had been lost near the start of the war when the Collective had fried all their communications equipment. What the admiral was telling him should still be impossible.

"H-how?"

"Never mind how, just move it. That's an order." Blackhill shoved him towards the door and Varmos, still in a state of utter bewilderment, did as he was told.

The office was empty, save for a single seat behind a simple metal desk, with a small monitor on top. He sat behind it and turned the terminal on. It was already connected to the communication system and a live communication was waiting for him to acknowledge. Swallowing the sudden burst of anxiety he was feeling, he accepted it.

The screen blanked for a split second, and then produced a slightly fuzzy image of his wife, Contessa, and his son, Dekin.

"Hey there," he said, feeling a little overwhelmed and even misty eyed at seeing his family again, even if it was only through a screen. Because of the transmission delay, it was fifteen seconds before they realized he was there.

"Hey, it really is Dad!"

"Hello, Son. Looks like you're doing well. Have you been looking after your mother?"

His wife laughed and ruffled his tentacles. "Oh yes, he's been doing all the masculine chores around the house. Though I still have to twist his arm to get him to help with the house work."

Dekin's face puckered slightly, averting his gaze at his mother's admonitions.

"Son, you know your mom needs you to help look after the house. She shouldn't have to do it all by herself."

"Yeah yeah, I know," Dekin grumbled.

Varmos laughed. "Enough of that, how did that bike trip you mentioned go?"

For a good forty-five minutes he talked to his wife and son, feeling the exhaustion of the past few months slowly lift from him like a weight being taken off his shoulders. Eventually, he asked, "so where's Veela?"

Contessa sighed, her mantle rippling with distress, worry, and frustration.

"Sulking in her room," Dekin answered. "She and mom have been fighting."

"We haven't been fighting," Contessa said sharply, "just disagreeing." She sighed. "Can you talk to her?"

"I'd like to. Maybe let me talk to her alone."

Contessa pressed her lips together, reluctance showing all over her features but flashed green and stood up away from the desk, telling Dekin to make himself scarce.

After saying farewell to each other, Varmos waited several minutes, delighted that the communication had lasted this long. He wasn't sure how long he actually had left but he intended to make the most of it.

Veela finally came into view, sitting in her seat and looking anxious yet determined. She was ready for an argument.

Varmos couldn't help but see how much she resembled her mother. She had his dark-blue eyes but her teal mantle, darkening at the tip of her long, thin tentacles; was from Contessa. Her face betrayed her head strong nature, something else she'd inherited from her mother, so it was inevitable the two would clash on even minor differences of opinion.

"Hello, angel," he said. "It's good to see you again."

Her mantle rippled, and while the picture quality wasn't great, he could imagine her mantle showing the strain of trying to keep her emotions from being on full display.

"Hello, Daddy. It's good to see you. Mom was getting worried. She does that a lot, you know."

"It's what wives and mothers do. So, what is it about you that's got her so worried?" He already had a pretty good idea.

"I…" she coughed and adopted a posture and tone of voice she probably thought made her seem more serious and professional. "I want to enlist in the CSF."

"I'm aware. What I want to know is why you want to join up. You know this isn't exactly your regular nine to five job."

"Yes, Daddy, I know, and I know how badly the war is going, everyone does, no matter what the government says, but that why I need to join up, same with all my friends."

"That's not a good enough reason, Veela. You think I'd have stayed in the CSF for over twenty years if I only joined up because my friends did? When your facing a near hopeless situation is that what you'll be thinking of to keep you going? To do your duty? To die? In all likelihood, you won't see your friends again until the war is over."

Veela bit her lip and her mantle betrayed some of the anxiety in her, but she didn't avert her gaze. "I know, that's not the main reason. I just… it's true right, that the Octarians are the ones who destroyed Alexandria?"

Varmos winced. "Yes, they technically did." The Octarians claimed it was an accident but frankly, Varmos doubted that. They might not have necessarily intended for Alexandria Colony to be destroyed, but its presence certainly didn't stop them from pinning the Federation fleet against it and firing ship destroying weapons in its direction.

"And they've been destroying homes and wrecking lives all over the planet. We might have hit them first but looking at what's happened since, it was obvious they were going to hit us too; we just beat them to the punch."

And got our own beak broken, Varmos thought sourly.

"The point is, we're fighting a war of self defence. I know things are different in space but here we have refugees all over the place. There's rationing, fuel shortages, power shortages, people getting hurt and killed in raids all over the planet, and they completely ruined people's livelihoods with those damn gremlin torpedoes. I'm sick of it and I want to do something about it."

Those were decent reasons, Varmos supposed. It wasn't like when he had joined up during peacetime, when the old war between the Octarian Kingdom and the Federation was decades over.

"And your mother's trying to stop you from enlisting?"

"Yeah, she thinks its suicide. But the more time goes by the more I see people joining up, especially refugees who got their homes wrecked. I just can't sit by and do nothing about it. Not any more than you can."

Varmos pressed his lips together to hide a grimace. She had grown up with the stories told about him, had looked up his exploits, and in spite of his own downplay of events and trying to counter how the media glorified them, it was obvious to him that she was destined for a life in the military.

Varmos tapped the desk top thoughtfully. "Alright," he said.

Veela's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Varmos held up a finger. "On the condition that you finish high school, first. You've only got a few months left and it'll appease your mother, at least a little."

Veela pouted unhappily. "But everyone else I know is joining up now."

"Everyone else isn't my daughter, only you are." He forced a smile. "I don't want you to join up, Veela, honestly, I don't. I'd rather you stayed home where it was safe, that's just how it is as a parent. But, as a parent, I also know its not my place to determine your life for you or stand in the way of what you really want to do, but I'm not going to let you decide this on an impulse. If you can finish high school and you still want to join up, then you can. Think of it as a test, not only to us, but for yourself."

He added. "And you won't qualify for officer training, even in war, without a high school diploma."

"Ah…" Veela flushed slightly. "I guess that makes sense. So… I can think of it as training."

"Sure, you can think of it like that. Training will be a lot more intense for you than it was for me. They'll have to cram a lot into your brain in a very short time."

"Yeah, I heard."

"Have you thought about which branch you wanted to go into?"

She smiled. "Well, to be honest I only thought about joining the CSF because you were in it, so I never decided where I'd want to go from there. I never had the chance to talk to you about it before."

Varmos leaned forward. "Well, as someone on the inside, I might be willing to offer you a suggestion, one that might extend your life quite a bit, actually. What do you know about mobile suits?"

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Orest did his best to sit still as he waited. Faith and Chastity stood on either side of him, keeping one eye on the secretary sitting behind the desk across from them and the other on the large pair of doors at the end of the room. Behind those doors his fate would be decided and he was not feeling confident.

His efforts had ended in disaster. His project had produced results, his weapon had proven itself, but he had lost the base, the pirates, and his efforts to try and recoup some of their losses through the destruction of the enemies that had brought about those losses in the first place, had resulted in a military defeat.

Oh sure, technically, they had succeeded in destroying the ship, they'd had taken out one of the enemy mobile suits, perhaps more on the ground, depending on if those captured Zaku's survived the landing. Unfortunately, the enemy had successfully evacuated the majority of their crew and remaining void wing, while they had lost most of their own. That didn't even count the three damaged cruisers, two of which would need weeks if not months of repairs.

A buzzing sound startled him. It was the buzzer on the secretary's desk. The middle-aged takenam looked at him and said, "the general will see you now."

Orest gulped air and stood up, giving himself another look over to ensure his dress uniform was as immaculate as possible. His kasslan gave him looks of reassurance though it would be improper to express them out loud. They were anxious too, and they wouldn't be allowed to join him in the general's office.

The door sentries opened the doors for him, revealing the office beyond. A wine-red carpet covered the floor. The walls were adorned with paintings Orest recognized from the days of the Octarian Kingdom, portraying old architecture and landscapes from their Terran holdings. Directly ahead was a large oak desk and General Tough sat behind it.

The general was on the shorter side, even for a takevir, and despite pushing seventy he still had the athletic build that had served him well as a soldier. If not for males like him, Orest would never have been able to reach the level in the military he had now.

The general's two kaaslan, were likewise still fit but past their prime. They eyed Orest sharply, assessing him, trying to guess if he carried any weapons.

"Captain Ponoda," the general greeted jovially. "Come, have a seat. All rested up after your time away?"

Orest seated himself in one of the plush chairs in front of the desk. "Yes, Sir, I am. Thank you."

Tough eyed him for a moment and then laughed. "You really think you're in trouble, don't you?"

Orest winced. "I… I was expecting a reprimand, Sir."

"Well forget waiting, there isn't one. You proved your weapon works, like you set out to do, and while you did lose the base, you evacuated everything of value from there. Honestly, we would have abandoned the place already if you hadn't said you wanted it."

"I… I see."

Tough waved his hand. "Oh I know, it's a setback, and some people will probably grumble, but in light of recent events I think they'll take your project a little more seriously."

Orest frowned. "Sir, the project was originally meant to create an optimized anti-ship platform. It wasn't meant to combat mobile suits."

Tough's smile faded. "I realize that, but that's not the reason. It's because High Command wants more specialized craft for niche roles like the one you have, in order to free up mobile suits for more conventional work. People are still scratching their heads over how that carrier lasted so long."

"I was a bit surprised myself, Sir, but frankly I'm more concerned about the enemy mobile suits. I realize that the pilots on our side were inexperienced but we only got one of them despite the odds being so heavily in our favour."

Tough let out an amused snort. "We've had a number of aces look at the footage and data. They said that under the circumstances, any pilots of their level could have managed the same thing. Though, that has its own disturbing implications."

Orest nodded. "How did the Federation get ace pilots so quickly? How do they understand how to make the most of a mobile suit with so little of their own experience?"

"Those are the questions," Tough agreed. "We don't know all the answers but we think we may have identified who it was you fought."

He turned one of his monitors around to face Orest. It showed a report from the East Orican front on Terra. A large part of the screen showed the image of a fierce armoured warrior of myth, bathed in a red glow and surrounded by fire, yellow eyes glowing malevolently.

"We know them as the White Devils," Tough went on. "They were first encountered by the Southern Army Group at the start of December. They were only around for about a month before we finally took care of them, but they proved to be more than a nuisance during that time. One of them even defeated the Lioness herself in single combat."

Orest fought to keep his expression neutral. He could imagine that. Even in his more advanced mobile suit, he hadn't been able to outmatch them. And since they had been using Collective mobile suits it was easier to judge their skill.

"In light of all that," Tough continued, "it's understandable things went the way they did. Intelligence is going to start putting considerable effort into learning more about this unit. In the meantime, you need to focus on advancing your project to the next stage."

Orest nodded. "I agree, Sir. We can build a few more Zakrellos with the resources we have while we further develop the next design. Although, I am anticipating some revised specifications from the Development Board."

"I would too. But, I'm sure that by the time you're done, you'll have delivered a devastating weapon for our cause."

Orest nodded firmly. "Yes, Sir. That, I can guarantee."

Author's Notes:

So that's it, that's the end of this latest tale in the GundamxSplatoon-verse. We see members of the 13th adapt to fighting in space, see that the Octarian Collective is trying not to sit on their laurels and just what a hard time the Federation is having trying to fight back against them.

There will be another tie-in story with this one, the next in the series which will take place on Terra and follow Hachiko. I'm sure you've been wondering what she's been up to. Don't worry, you'll find out.

A few behind the scenes facts:

Audacity was named after HMS Audacity, an escort carrier that served in the Royal Navy during WW2, which was originally a captured German merchant ship named Hanover. She was converted into an escort carrier sometime after her capture, one of the first to ever serve in the Royal Navy. She would be torpedoed and sink in late 1941.

Rosi was a late addition to the story as I wanted more of the Pirate's perspective and a tale about people caught in the middle of this war. It also provided a more meaningful perspective given what Varmos was dealing with. We may see Chella and Levia again depending on how things go.

Anyway, this is the end for now. Stay tuned and hopefully, you won't have to wait too long for the next installment. Thank you to everyone for reading and the comments.