Universal Century year 0087:

In the void of space, a space colony leisurely spun.

It was one of many hundreds scattered throughout the Earth Sphere, most of which were clustered at Lagrange points between Earth and Luna, where gravity forces canceled out one another. This particular colony was just outside of the L5 point, having drifted away from a grouping of its fellows; labeled an O'Neill cylinder, it was a massive tube thirty kilometers long and six wide, possessing three enormous mirrors that reflected sunlight for use. Depending on who was looking at it, the structure resembled a flower.

Today however, this colony was unique. Its mirrors had been sealed into the tube. The base had been modified with extra fusion torches, and on its heavily reinforced hull were makeshift docks which could be retracted for protection. Maneuvering thrusters pushed its ponderous bulk away from a cluster, heading away from anything nearby. And on its hull, the faded white letters which once spelled "TEXAS" had been scrubbed away.

Long ago a tourist hotspot, it had changed hands several times before its current owner claimed it. Now it had a greater destiny than just another Side 5 colony. But first, a pair of dark ships closing in needed to be dealt with.

Deep inside Texas colony's central hub was a jury rigged bridge, divided into two sections. At the lower level, Captain Ephihar Synapse grimaced; their makeshift combat information center was a tense place now, filled with hurried reports and broken communications. Too much volume for what was only a temporary facility. Things only grew worse when the door hissed open, admitting a jumpsuited man who practically flew onto the bridge.

The crew and Synapse took a single look and simultaneously groaned; just because he signed their paychecks didn't mean they liked it when he stopped by.

"Sitrep." The man demanded after grabbing a handhold.

"Sir. At present we have two Alexandria-class warships holding position one hundred klicks out in sector two; they've identified themselves as Rapid Response Unit Nine. They deployed an MS team for aggressive recon. I had Mackenzie out assisting a hull repair, Eighth Team has launched to support her. Second, Fourth and Seventh Teams are standing by." Synapse reported.

The man who brought them all together grimaced. "Casualties?"

"None yet sir." Synapse replied.

"They don't seem to want to engage yet." Their radar officer commented without looking away.

"That can change anytime. Don't get careless now Paselov, or you Harida." Synapse warned, receiving automatic acknowledgements. Then he noted that his guest was still present. "Director Manswell, we're in a combat situation. I'll have to ask you to leave-"

Victor Manswell shoved past him to the monitors, ignoring the crew's protests. A man in his late thirties, he possessed an impatient energy with all of his actions, now translating to scanning the encroaching Federation forces with a glare.

"Damnit, the Titans couldn't have waited another day." he balled a fist by his side. "Did they acknowledge the Anaheim codes?" He whipped around.

"Negative sir. The signals have been looped since they arrived." Simone, their comm officer, reported quickly.

"And the Marie Dietrich?" He pushed towards the captain's chair.

"Still en route, I lost their signal when RRU-9 showed up." Paselov reported.

"Director, you shouldn't be here." Synapse tried pleading.

Manswell was undeterred, sparing a dark look at the screen. "We can't wait any longer. Begin drive activation."

One of the makeshift hangars was abuzz with activity. Crewmen floated away from the mobile suits, humanoid war machines built for space combat, heading for the dubious protection the inner station offered. A dozen were getting into place, ready to defend the colony.

"Just one ship?" A faded red GM-II growled over the line, picking up a heavy cannon from a crane. It had seen better days, pockmarked by micro impacts and innumerable scuffs. Much like its companions, including a similar GM-II and a carbon scored Guncannon, a much bulkier mobile suit with huge cannons on its shoulders. All toted regular machine guns in lieu of beam rifles, lacking the resources to acquire the particle weapons.

The dark blue one boosted in her way. "Stop it Karen, there's no way you can take a warship on your own."

"Watch me." She moved forward anyway, only to have her suit jerk from a white GM-Sniper grabbing her pauldron armor, one that was in significantly better condition than its companions. She shuffled herself free in time to catch a second GM team move to the catapults.

Nevertheless she blocked her path. "Listen Joshua, I'm just as angry at them as you are-"

"You didn't lose anyone to them." She barked, taking all of them aback at her sheer viciousness.

"No, I didn't." The pilot reluctantly conceded. "But I was there, at Bunch Thirty. I saw what they did. Don't forget that."

"Karen, Mackenzie, cut it out." Dark blue snapped. "There's six enemies inbound, once we deal with them we can disable the Titan ship. The second the drive is online we're outta here."

"If it works." The one with carbon scoring muttered.

"It will Sanders, count on it." Eighth team's leader declared, topping off his fuel before launching. Shiro's line was off when he quietly added, "It has to."

For Shiro Amada, failure wasn't an option; he had nowhere to go if this didn't work. The terrestrial resistance group Karaba didn't have the strength to contest Titan forces when they moved into Southeast Asia, hunting for Zeon remnants. No one was safe from their crackdowns, whether they be old rebel groups or simply farmers who wanted to be left alone. He was lucky to have only gotten away with his house burned down, things would have been far worse had the Titans discovered he was a deserter. What they would do to Aina and Norris-

He exhaled slowly. Mackenzie may have gotten him into this mess, but he agreed to join when he was informed about Manswell's project, bringing on everyone he could. Shiro had to see this through, there was no other way.

Right now this meant the battle had to be fought away from Texas, that was his priority. The risk to the colony, whether accidental or intentional, was too high in his book. But at the same time he couldn't get too far in case they left without him. Manswell would certainly push for that, if Synapse or the backers didn't stop him.

At his flanks Eighth team joined him, and further out were three other mobile suit units, joined by Mackenzie; Seventh and Second teams were made up of GM trios like his machine, in much better shape admittedly. Federal defectors or not, they were on his side. He had to remind himself when the Fourth team boosted closer, catching Karen and Sanders reflexively twitching weapons towards them. He resisted the impulse when the monoeye swiveled towards him.

"Remember, same side." A tight beam laser chimed, coming from the nearest Zaku of Fourth team. A team made up of Zakus led by a Rick Dom to be exact. All three had a fresh layer of light beige paint over their old colors, making the slapdash armor repairs less noticeable. The one who sent the message edged closer and closer until the Dom waved a hand, backing him off.

"Sorry about that." the Dom pilot sent via laser. For a former remnant fighter he was very level headed, although that didn't endear him to Karen or several other project members.

"It's alright. Hickman, don't do that. All units, split up and flank them like we planned, if you can hit the ship's engines. Watch your fire, this is gonna get-" A beam shot missed him by a hair. "Damn! Break formation!"

Organized chaos reigned supreme on the CIC. Radar displays turned to snow, forcing laser tracking systems to pick up the slack. Visuals from the other observation stations were put on displays, or sent from hardwired lines. Such was the result of the accursed Minovsky effect, created by the same fusion reactors which gave them their immense power.

Synapse should have felt relief that Manswell left, but right now he was too busy turning pale. "Are you sure?"

"Affirmative sir, they received the Anaheim codes. M-particles are rising to combat densities. There's… there's no EFSF assets in range." Harrida reported.

At the same time Manswell entered the expansive upper bridge, finding it to be even more chaotic than the CIC. It was four times the size of what he just departed, big enough that it required a whole bank of technicians to monitor everything, and not run very smoothly he noted based on the intelligible hum. At least his handpicked civic council was gathered near the lower ring, answering the reams of communications from the colony's residents.

As for himself, Manswell had his place too. An uncomfortable chair (by his insistence) was his throne, affixed to a supportive arch which overlooked the entire bridge, complete with the master control interface on an armrest. The buzzing mind of a renovated habitat was at his fingertips, transformed from an abandoned pre-OYW tourist hotspot into something far more ambitious.

"Passenger status is nominal, ninety eight percent of population have arrived at shelters-"

"-reactor eight is green, nine is over safe temperature limits-"

"-Cargo bays are depressurizing. All seed and medical vaults are reporting green-"

"-final hull checks complete-"

"-We are clear from secondary bunch clusters. All torches are primed and awaiting ignition command."

And then, from the closest post came the words he had been waiting for: "Alcubierre drive is activating. Feeding power from dedicated reactors one through four, charge is at two percent and rising. Estimated time to completion is-"

"Eleven minutes until the Titans are in firing range!" The words from the radar station however were the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear.

"You had to jinx it-"

"Shut up and do your job." Both the operator and Manswell barked in unison.

More beams lanced through the void, hazy flashes which would spell death in a heartbeat. Seventh team suffered the first casualty when a shot hit a GM in the torso, blowing it up mid flight. The rest scattered, but by then the attackers were upon them; twelve on six would ordinarily be a huge advantage, except these weren't GMs or Zakus, despite looking too much like the latter to be coincidence.

The Federation designated them Hizacks, next generation Mobile Suits operated exclusively by the Titans. Shiro just called them trouble.

Unloading on a Hizack did nothing, it banked away at speeds his GM-II couldn't match, whipping around every time he had a bead. It weaved around his fire, making a run towards Sanders; with a snarl he boosted to intercept it. Another explosion rocked his machine, he registered it as one of the Hizack's allies.

A hundred meters away the Hizack whipped around with a beam saber in hand, already glowing as it dashed towards him.

"You baited me." Shiro growled, meeting the Hizack's weapon with his hastily drawn beam, barely igniting the plasma blade in time. The two weapons slid off each other, but he saw immediately that it was much faster with its followup strike; its arm moved quickly compared to his refitted OYW era unit, and strong enough to send him tumbling with the saber flying from his grip, leaving him wide open for a rapid kick which rattled his cockpit, so hard that his flight suit had to kick in to compensate. Without bothering with a melee strike, the Hizack brought up its machine gun.

He would've died there, if a lancing glow didn't pierce the Hizack's chest and make it explode. Righting himself, he spared a second to confirm Mackenzie was alright, catching her GM-Sniper only narrowly missing a second Hizack. She had to boost away before the Titans shot at her position.

"He's on me!" Another GM screamed before she exploded, snapping him back into the present.

Twelve turned into nine in seconds, and the numbers kept shrinking. One of the Zakus tried to evade a chasing Hizack, only to get blasted by another's rifle. Another GM had its legs sheared off by a beam, sent into an unguided spin which left him easy prey for a half dozen shots, turning him into a fireball. But in exchange a Titan mobile suit paid the price, ripped up by the Dom's machine gun before Sanders' cannons blew him away. It was an uncertain balance, one upset when fresh beams abruptly slashed into their formation.

"More of 'em!" Hickman yelled, flitting away after a beam sliced off his Zaku's arm.

Shiro cursed; six more Hizacks were closing in fast, flanking their formation from above. He watched helplessly as Mackenzie had to blast away from the mess, her rifle taking a hit that forced her to toss it away. Its subsequent explosion failed to save her however, with one of her legs caught by a lancing beam which threw off her flight and another tore away most of the shoulder armor while her vulcans blazed.

Karen covered Sanders while he fired at a Hizack before it dodged, the Zaku and Rick Dom did all they could to fend them off before they cut off their escape route, and as he turned to spray gunfire, he suffered a collision. The impact threw him against his belts, forcing the air out of his lungs. Spittle flecked his visor from his gasp. And through his cameras, the monoeye of a Hizack loomed, pressing closer as his machine groaned. He tried untangling his limbs, but the mobile suit refused to let go.

A click of an opened channel sounded out of place in the chaos. "You had your chance kiddo, time to teach you damn spacemen some manners."

Deflecting the heat hawk cost him his machine gun; the searing edge sliced off the barrel, while the rest of the now useless weapon blocked his arm. Warnings flashed on screen when the ax came closer, scorching his armor. Gritting his teeth while his GM suffered, he saw something in the corner of his screen, which changed everything.

Texas was glowing.

It wasn't the banks of primed fusion torches at its base, nor the flashing lights which lined the outer hull; a shimmering field swam across the entire length of the megastructure, distorting starlight beyond the curtain. It started at the bow and flowed downwards, slowing as it got closer to the hangars. Akin to a giant shell encasing the entire colony, leaving a half kilometer buffer.

Shiro needed a second to realize that while the fighting hadn't stopped, most of the combatants on both sides were distracted by the event. Including his foe, who made the mistake of turning his head; he could imagine its pilot gawking at this bizarre sight.

"What is that? What's it doing-gyah!" He yelped when Shiro flung the ax out of the way, delivering a punch that smashed the suit's rebreather. He was freed when the Hizack was sent into an uncontrolled spin, flailing when he snatched up his beam rifle; his computers needed a moment before they could sync with the weapon, the old access code proving they were still valid. The GM's reactor couldn't handle running it for long, but he didn't need much time.

"Everyone, while they're busy!" Shiro wasn't sure if the radios would function with this much interference, so he started to jab his machine's hand for directions. Only for the altogether too close Titan warship to blossom with fire, a circular blast centered near its stern making the entire vessel lurch uncontrollably.

Now it was his turn to look confused, until he spotted the source: entering his view from below the combat zone was a Zanzibar-II, splotched by blackened armor or hasty welds, yet it was still fast enough to evade fire from the Titans. They made a full burn towards the colony, all turrets blazing.

More important was its escorts, which engaged them mere seconds later; not only were there two teams of GM-IIs providing covering fire, but darting around another Hizack was a pair of dented Gelgoogs, obsolete yet still lethal. They found this out the hard way after another Hizack was sliced in half by a heat sword, tumbling a second before unceremoniously exploding.

Shiro's line clicked. "Need help guys?"

"Healy! You made it!" Shiro exclaimed as he boosted for distance.

"Just in time too." Matt Healy responded, his own GM-II painted in blue as his team engaged the Titans, covering the Zanzibar burning towards Texas.

"About time you jackasses arrived." Karen chimed in as she forced the enemy mobile suits back.

Neither of the Zeke pilots said anything. One was busy harassing enemies to allow Second Team's withdrawal, but the second Gelgoog hugged the ship, it's dotted camo giving Shiro's sensors no shortage of grief. He knew the pilot by name but that was all, having never met them face to face; they led a faction of disgruntled Zeon remnants who had grievances with both the Federation and Axis, that was all he knew. And based on how quick they were to shoot at anyone who got too close to the ship, they were very protective.

For Shiro he dragged a GM out of the line of fire to send them away, catching the Zaku clash with a Hizack before darting off. He joined the Rick Dom in covering the others when he boosted towards them.

"-ti- run!" the Dom pilot yelled through the static.

Shiro defied common sense by sending beam fire at the remaining Hizacks, adding his vulcans to the deluge. His already low ammo counter shrank by the second, but he didn't care; the last of the GMs turned and he managed to nail a Titan in the process, ripping its head to pieces without destroying it. In the corner of his screen he spotted the Rick Dom grab Mackenzie's crippled machine, physically dragging her to safety as she shot at stragglers, with Matt's GMs providing covering fire for them and the Zanzibar alike. His GM's hum weakened after the latest shot, his screens flickering as an unsubtle warning.

Jetting closer to him, Karen and Sanders put their backs to the colony while emptying their remaining munitions as well, splitting their fire towards two Hizacks as other units turned to retreat. In the chaos he almost forgot to keep up with them, watching his fuel meter steadily drop.

"Go, I'll cover you." Shiro barked over a closed line.

"You first." Through the static he could hear Karen smirking.

Sanders' guncannon abruptly ceased firing, leaving only a machine gun. "That's not good."

"On three." Shiro pawned a mining charge and threw it in the middle of the enemy formation, watching them bank out of the way. As it exploded he shouted, "Three!"

He turned to lay on the throttle, pushing his GM to its limit. A flashing icon declared his power reserves to be nearly depleted, followed by his cockpit dimming for a long couple seconds. Under his strained breath Shiro prayed for it to last another minute; they were so close, he couldn't give up now.

Ahead the last of the MS teams made it past the encroaching field, now almost reaching the hangars. The Zanzibar was already clear, firing retro thrusters as it docked as fast as humanly possible, extending magnetic clamps to bolt themselves in place. That just left them, racing towards the colony at full speed.

The blue field was almost upon them, the shimmering wave appearing paper thin from where he was, just like what the briefing months ago said would happen. Only then he was supposed to be inside it; Not barreling as fast as his machine could go, with beams and gunfire chasing them. Shiro didn't know what would happen when the blue stuff was in the way and he wasn't interested in finding out.

"C'mon, a little further-damn!" Sanders abruptly yelped. Shiro whipped around and discovered to his horror that his machine was yawing away, his leg sliced off by a beam.

"Sanders!" Without hesitation Shiro twisted his mobile suit and jetted to his side, grabbing his arm and hugging it close. His actuators shrieked at the abuse, threatening to break any second.

"Gah, stop, leave me-" Sanders yelled when Karen snatched his other arm, shoving his shoulder barrel away.

"Shut up and hit it!" She snarled, laying on the throttle. Another beam had her cursing while shifting her gun around to fire.

Shiro took a second to confirm the Hizack pair were on their tail, with one having a crumbled rebreather and clearly in a bad mood as he sprayed vulcan fire. Even with a Gelgoog swooping in he wasn't deterred, somehow managing to dodge a beam with meters to spare, and even succeeding in nailing its arm. The wounded machine ducked away, clearing the zone before the Titans got ideas.

"Cmon, cmon." he pleaded through gritted teeth. Closer, closer…

His GM cleared the rim with meters to spare, right behind Sanders and Karen. The Hizacks boosted out of the way just in time, while the busted one accidentally skidded off the hazy glow, his armor crumpling against the translucent barrier as if he hit a wall. Not that it cared, moving ahead to finish enveloping the entire colony.

Massive gouts of flame ignited on the colony's base, starting to move its ponderous bulk.

Synapse dabbed at his brow, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. "Are they in?"

"Affirmative sir! Eighth team is moving towards the hangers as we speak. The Dietrich is confirmed docked." Harrida cheered, going for a high five beside him. But Paselov didn't share his enthusiasm.

"Sir, the other ship is still coming at us, I'm estimating four minutes until it's in firing range. At this distance they'll tear us to bits." he had to swallow a lump to stay calm.

At his throne Manswell grimaced. "Drive charge?"

"Charge at eighty percent, we have passed the minimum threshold."

"Then activate it!" Manswell bellowed.

"If it doesn't work-" the operator started before the radar officer punched his shoulder.

Shiro's fist pump ended when he gripped his controls again, taking shallow breaths at his screens darkening. The GM's hum weakened; for several seconds he was plunged into darkness, only broken by the flickering backup lighting. Scrapes immediately preceded multiple strong tugs from his team, yanking him against his belts. He coughed and gasped at the rough treatment, then suddenly his displays blinked on.

"Oh sh-" Shiro threw his full weight onto his handles, shoving his GM's hands up. The impact on the docks still rattled him hard, knocking his helmet off the seat with a yelp. That was nothing compared to the GM, squealing metal transmitting through the hull before a tremendous crash knocked all the air out of his lungs. This time when his lights went out they didn't come back on.

Remaining mobile suits retreated when the blue shell began to vibrate, shimmering with raw power. Blinking lights grew brighter than before, flashing in an ever quickening pattern all over the hull, as its retrofitted engines cut loose. It moved faster and faster, but not enough to outrun the incoming ships.

Although its companion was damaged, the other Alexandria made a full burn at the target. Its Mega-Beam cannons glowed, taking aim at Texas; Nobody present was entirely sure what would happen when the beams hit the barrier, but that didn't stop its captain from giving the order.

The colony's shell hit a crescendo just as the cannons fired, creating a flash of powerful blue that left afterimages on observers. For the Hizack pilot with a broken face, he winced at his screens adjusting a second too late, the cameras clearing up just in time to see the impact.

Twin beams sailed into the void, where Texas was seconds ago.

"What the?" he blinked, sweeping his head in confusion. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off it dawned on him that he was unarmed, since his beam rifle was stolen and his saber drifted in the void somewhere.

"Mosha! You alright?" his wingman pinged him, swooping in with a missing arm.

He kept gawking in utter confusion. "I-I'm fine, Bate. What happened? Where's the colony?"

Manswell remembered how to breathe, composing himself before any of the crew noticed. Not that anyone was in a state to do so, with the raw shock overcoming them and presumably every one of the eight million passengers. What other reaction could there be to the event that just transpired?

"Woohoo!" The radar operator threw a fist up, jerking against his belts. "Told you it'd work!"

"Um, Eledore-" His counterpart tried to dampen his enthusiasm (and the blank stare of the boss), and was clapped on the shoulder instead.

"Chill, it's alright Scott. This crazy thing worked." He laughed.

For the crew of the CIC, they likewise slowly processed that they just escaped combat. Synapse forced his knuckles to relax, then he labored to do something about the resulting shaking.

"Status." A part of him was astounded that he managed to sound so calm.

When no response came he was about to repeat himself, then he saw the outer cameras. Synapse stared for a long minute, utterly entranced by the red light streaming towards the colony, turning blue in their wake. It was mesmerizing, like nothing he ever saw before.

The comm station beeped, knocking him out of his shock. Its operator had to slap her cheek to refocus.

"Um, Captain, news from the primary bridge. We're decelerating from… from faster than light travel." Simone reported numbly.

Six minutes after narrowly escaping certain doom, Texas Colony abruptly returned to normal with a burst of radiation. Its massive velocity was arrested by dozens of smaller thrusters, giving it their all to slow the enormous station, the resulting strain creating ominous creaks throughout the entire hull. Nothing the refit planners hadn't already accounted for, but for the many passengers it was nonetheless worrisome.

Shiro heard the rumbling through his GM's hull, wondering what it meant. Then his cockpit shuddered, cracked open with the aid of several pipes and wrenches, spilling fresh light into his would-be coffin. That was his cue to unbuckle, floating in the miniscule gravity.

Multiple hands supported him as he clambered out, accompanied by a distinctive thumping that signified no atmosphere. His foot caught on the hatch, rattling him from boot to stump; he gasped at the pain in his hip suddenly magnifying a hundredfold. For a moment he seized up, hissing through gritted teeth as he inhaled metallic tasting air.

Taps on his visor opened his eyes, fogged by an ache that had haunted him for eight years now. Shiro jerked up when the void suited supporters helped him, distantly aware of a repair team hastily bounding to his GM.

Through the contact a line clicked on. "Are you okay commander?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Michel." Shiro exhaled, using his good leg to push away from the conflagration.

The other guy moved his visor, removing the glare that hid his blond face. "Wow, that was a close one."

"Told you Bernie, nothing can kill him." Michel almost dropped Shiro when he smiled proudly, hurriedly adjusting his grip until he pushed them away.

"I can move guys, thanks." Shiro winced, waving off both men.

Over the cracking radio he heard their top mechanic barking orders, already working her team on his damaged GM; he regretted looking back, cringing at the crumpled armor, shredded chest, in fact the whole front was practically a write off.

Speaking of, the large woman who took over mobile suit maintenance onboard the colony bounded towards him, giving him a disappointed glare through her helmet. "Ensign Amada, what were you thinking?"

"Hehe, sorry Mora." Shiro rubbed his shoulder, wincing when she rapped a wrench on the top of his helmet.

"That's Chief Keith to you. As if I didn't have enough work to do, you went and trashed the GM I just fixed." she groused, sparing a long glance at the rest of the hangar; there were a dozen mobile suits docked, a mishmash of Federation and Zeon machines in various states of disrepair, all being worked on by mechanic crews.

Shiro focused on the two Gelgoogs in particular, burying an old flash before checking the mangled Guncannon. "Is Sanders okay?"

"Yeah, he went with the others to the briefing room. 'Cept for Healy." Michel added.

"I'm hoping those extra mechanics Matt promised are on that zeke ship, because I have a lot of work to do." Mora nodded to his side. "Cmon Bernie, work to do. Amada, once you're rested I expect you to help out. When you see Chuck, tell him I'm waiting."

"Will do." Shiro gave a nod, watching his newer companion slump while he bounded after her.

Mora Keith: defected Anaheim mechanic, joined the Manswell project following the Bunch 30 incident in UC 0085 alongside several former technicians, including her husband and young son.

"Pick your head up, then check that beam rifle he brought." She admonished, making Bernie flinch.

"Okay, okay." He waved defensively, taking a tool kit towards the weapon Shiro unwittingly dragged back.

Bernard Wiseman: Zeon POW of Riah during the One Year War, afterwards emigrated to Side 6 before joining the Manswell project.

Michel's line crackled with his cleared throat, rubbing the back of his helmet. "By the way commander, Aina is in the briefing room too."

Michel Ninorich: OYW veteran, former radio host, and astrogeology engineer, volunteered for the Manswell project after Side reconstruction efforts slowed.

"Really?" Shiro grinned wryly, drifting to a wall handle; the lift dutifully dragged him away, much to his relief. His phantom pain was nice enough to wait until after the battle to kick in, but now it was making up for lost time.

He arrived right after another pilot glided off the handle, a woman in a Zeon flight suit; she moved with the grace of a longtime spacer, bounding in low gravity like it was second nature. That lasted after she spotted Shiro and Michel, hesitating before allowing them into the airlock, letting the door seal shut behind them.

When the air was fully cycled all three removed their helmets; the woman had a hawkish face and short black hair, but she displayed a stern charm. Or did once Shiro guessed, before whatever created a mass of burn tissue that covered her cheek and led down her neck, as well as leaving crisscross shrapnel scars on her scalp and brow. She stared at them from the corner of her eye, helmet in hand and showing a grimace.

Michel gawked, but Shiro coughed into a fist. "You're one of the Gelgoog pilots?"

"Yes." Was her clipped response.

"Thanks for the help back there, I was sure I was gonna buy it. Shiro Amada." he stuck out his hand with a smile.

The woman reluctantly took it, giving only one handshake before retracting. "...Jane Grissom, of the Marine Amphibious Unit. Former. During the War."

"Relax, I won't judge. That's in the past now." Shiro waved, which failed to put her at ease. "We all did things we're not proud of, that's why we're here."

She flinched. "Y-yeah."

When the airlock finished cycling Grissom took off, heading towards the secondary entrance where the Zanzibar docked. After she left Michel coughed into a fist, following Shiro towards the nearby briefing room.

"You know commander, I heard rumors about the MAU during the war…" he alluded cautiously.

"Nothing like the covert ops units. Not unless you're sure she participated in something like Operation British." Shiro let him drift closer before patting him on the shoulder. "She helped us out back there. All of us. Whatever happened then doesn't matter now, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Michel nodded.

Despite his cheerful tone Shiro was curious about that Grissom woman. There wasn't anybody on the colony who didn't have ghosts in their pasts, ones they wanted away from so badly they signed up with Manswell. What did she do? But that was for a later time. Now he let the briefing room door slide open, only to be greeted by his new comrades.

And his doom.

Shiro gulped, jolting when Michel bumped into his back by accident. The dozen people in the room didn't matter, all that he saw was a relatively short woman in a jumpsuit bounding up to him, getting in his face with a glare.

"Ah, hi there Aina." Shiro chuckled nervously.

"You said it was no big deal." growled Aina Amada, maiden name Sahalin; a former Zeon test pilot who was officially KIA during the war, but in truth she deserted to live in seclusion. "You said you were just going to sortie long enough to keep them away."

"Well, things didn't work out like I hoped. The Titans weren't gonna play nice." Shiro winced with his rictus, waving plaintively at his wife's reddening face.

"You should've planned better! I was so worried when you opened fire, and then Gertrude went down, and…" she quivered in rage, lunging towards him with her fists balled up. "You dummy!"

Shiro had the chance to deflect Aina, or block her attack, or something. Instead he let her tackle him, hitting the floor hard despite the substandard gravity. Whatever thoughts of resistance he had crumbled when she began to furiously kiss him, name calling and weeping for joy simultaneously; all Shiro could do was hold onto her, even as she halfheartedly smacked him.

"Hey you two, get a room. We have a no making babies on duty policy." Teased Karen, standing well away with her arms crossed and grinning.

Karen Joshua: mustered out of the EFGF at the war's end, becoming radicalized after a Titan led antiterrorism operation in Side 2, leading to her enlistment in the Anti Earth Union Group before defecting to the Manswell project.

"You wanna stop 'em?" Sanders joked beside her, taking a chair to slump.

Terry Sanders Jr: mustered out of the EFGF in the wake of Operation Stardust to enter the construction industry, later aiding in Texas Colony's refitting.

"Who's making babies now?" Pushing Michel out of the way was a pair of men, the speaker's legs rattling when he landed. Both were clad in zeon flight suits, with the former's customized to account for his prosthetic limbs. All four of them, with his metal arms crossing with his grin.

"Shut up Lorenz." Shiro waved off between gasps.

"Don't make me call security on you deviants." His whole bodied companion teased after brushing his blond hair out of the way.

Daryl Lorenz, William Hickman: Former Zeon remnant fighters turned Karaba agents, later went underground following a Titan raid that eliminated their cell, afterwards joined the Manswell project in exchange for refuge.

"Give it a rest." Lorenz took a chair like the rest, sinking on the pad. "Are you gonna stop 'em?"

"Hell no. You wanna, boys?" Karen glanced at the other pilots, who were trying to catch their breaths.

A blond bespectacled pilot flinched. "How about no, I barely survived that scrape."

"You're a sissy Keith." His companion slumped onto a chair, sighing in relief.

"You're not moving either Uraki." Sanders noted.

Kou Uraki, Chuck Keith; defected EF aggressor pilots brought onto the Manswell project, following the conclusion of a criminal investigation regarding the events of operation Stardust.

Aina finally let go of Shiro, smiling and tearing up over Shiro. The mood in the room was upbeat, despite the losses they suffered. Until another pilot barged in, wearing a white uniform as she flew inside as fast as possible

"Guys, you have to see this." Mackenzie floated to the back towards a monitor, ignoring Michel's weak protests from being bowled out of the way.

Christina Mackenzie: EF test pilot turned Anaheim liaison, officially tended her resignation in UC 0085, later found employment with Victor Manswell.

"What's going on?" Sanders asked as she flicked it on, backing away as everyone took a glance.

On the screen was a massive circular shape, filling half the black screen; it was whitish, tinged by brown bands and patches of orange, mostly centered on an oval on the lower section. It was a plain looking view, so much so that everybody watching needed a moment to process what it was.

Lorenz's relaxed attitude evaporated. "Guys, am I crazy? Because I think that's Jupiter."

"You too?" Karen gawked.

Mackenzie shivered as she faced them, needing to gulp before she could explain. "Guys, we just traveled six hundred million kilometers in six minutes. It worked. It actually worked."

On the bridge Manswell grinned, standing up after waving to telemetry. "Confirmed, we're here. And Banna Colony?"

"Located, we got 'em. They're two million klicks out, away from the primary bunch clusters around Ganymede." The radar operator reported.

"Hold one." Eledore held up an arm while mashing his headphones. "It's a coded burst, translating through the cipher… they said good job. We have the freezers and gas trucks ready to go."

"Perfect." Manswell grinned, jabbing a hand. "Send a reply: the Alcubierre drive works as intended."

"Um, director? Engineering just sent a report, they say the static charge is fifteen percent higher than predicted. We're close to the max safety limits." Said drive's operator turned to him nervously.

"Then extend the lightning rod, I'll go deal with them. Everyone, good work, but we're not done yet." Manswell grabbed a small mic, hitting a side switch on his seat.

All throughout the colony, from the habitation blocks where a young woman tended to her friend's child alongside her village, to the docks where the Marie Dietrich was unloading the last of its supplies, and everywhere in between, including a group of former enemies and a woman haunted by her demons, all paused to listen to the loudspeakers crackling to life.

"To the residents of Texas Colony, this is Victor Manswell. I am overjoyed to inform you that Project Exodus has been a smashing success!"

Manswell paused, making sure that all radios and television stations were relaying the message. Reports indicated several were down, but enough were active to ensure he reached everyone on board.

"The event you experienced minutes ago was a side effect of Anaheim's prototype Alcubierre drive. Everyone who can hear me, as of today you are officially the first humans to have experienced faster than light travel."

Synapse sank into his seat, letting his crew bask in the moment. Hidden by his cap, he smiled; a year ago he rotted in prison, kept alive solely because a Titan Admiral wanted to hold onto a potential scapegoat. Jamitov orchestrated his fall from grace, but his own barbarity drove a group of Titans to defect to the AEUG, busting him out in the dead of night. If not for Manswell, he would only have a future on the run to look forward to until he died.

"At present Texas colony is in the orbit of Io, the volcanic moon of Jupiter. You did not mishear that, in five minutes we traveled across a third of the solar system, a journey that the fastest ship in the Earth Sphere would take months to do. Our pursuers in the Federation are long gone. Earth itself is but a tiny speck at this distance."

Aina and Shiro glanced up in astonishment, the former climbing off her husband. They and their companions alike listened with awe, coming to terms that this was real. For the crews who paused work on the ships and mobile suits, they too were stunned beyond belief, several of them starting to quietly celebrate.

Grissom paused in a hallway to wrap her arms around her chest, letting out a shaky breath. "It's over. I'm free."

"But this is only the first step in our journey."

Manswell paused for dramatic effect, swallowing a lump in his dry mouth. He had rehearsed his speech many times, never able to fully banish the doubt no matter how confident he was.

"For the next two weeks, Texas will attach the Jovian colony Banna to the hull. Doing this will ease overcrowding, add a million new residents to the expedition and most importantly give us helium-3 skimmer ships, so we may harvest fuel independently of any organization. When that is concluded, we will set off. In one month, we will leave Sol entirely."

If not for his contacts in the Energy Fleet, none of this would be possible. That clout in the Jupiter colonies was a key factor for his plan's success; lacking the ships of the Fleet, he wouldn't even make it to Neptune before running out of fuel. His dream would be a frozen casket, remembered as a fool's mad scheme. And he would never see the prize he discovered on Mars.

Manswell stood up, clenching his shaking fist. "Today, we take the first step to fulfilling mankind's ancient dream. We shall bestride the stars, freed from the cradle of Earth. Men and women of Texas colony, today we leave the wars of the Earth Sphere behind, and embrace the cosmos."

He deactivated the mic, fighting the shiver rolling through his system. Before he collapsed he pushed himself away, heading to engineering; he gave his speech, now it was time to see how the centerpiece of the whole endeavor was doing.

Manswell just left the bridge door when a cleared throat threw off his flight, almost making him hit a bulkhead as he whipped around. "How poetic."

"Oh, it's you." Manswell righted himself, facing one of his primary backers. Silk hiding steel was his description of her, yet he mustered the confidence to grin. "Came to offer congratulations?"

Blonde hair moved, showing a woman in her thirties wearing a business suit. Pretty yet unassuming, and the main funder of the entire expedition; now she leveled a flat look upon him.

Sayla Mass, OYW veteran turned banker, was as cool as ice. "Now that we're away, I need answers, Mister Manswell. Now."