Gundam Wing: Destiny's Call

by operation meteor

Sequel to Journey to a New Battlefield. It's been two years since the Bloody Valentine War and tensions are rising. When a shadowy group attacks the colony of Armory One, a certain Gundam pilot takes to the battlefield once again. However, little to his knowledge, some old friends are on a journey to his new world. M for language and violence (again, it's war. What do you expect?)

31. Chapter 31

Author's Notes: Hello there! Happy winter holidays to all those who celebrate. As a happy coincidence, a good chunk of this chapter is holiday fluff of assorted flavors. A nice little lull before the brutal battle that's coming in the chapter after this one.

Song list for the chapter, in order of appearance: "Love Deterrence" (acoustic version) from Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, "Fields of Gold" by Sting, and "Eternity – Memory of Lightwaves" from Final Fantasy X-2.

Enjoy!

Episode Thirty-One: Between Storms

December 23rd, C.E. 73

Sitting in the Archangel's medical bay looking after a napping Stella, Shinn's mind was only half on the girl snoozing in front of him. For all the excitement that had occurred over the past day and a half, the young blonde woman didn't seem to have registered any of it. From what Shinn understood, the nurses had made sure to keep Stella sedated when the ship had gone into battle, a choice that he didn't fully agree with but still understood; he didn't like the idea of drugging her to sleep, yet it was still better than her suffering one of her episodes when the vessel was in the middle of action. Thankfully, they had only administered a light dose, and when Stella had awoken later in the day the nurses had resumed her physical therapy as if nothing had happened.

They were treating her while we overthrew Unato and took him out, Shinn thought, and she's none the wiser. I guess it's for the best. She doesn't need to be thinking about the war; her recovery's the only thing we want her focused on.

Now it was late morning of the following day, with Stella recuperating from her morning exercise session. According to the nurses, she was showing steady signs of improvement, and her recovery periods after the physical therapy sessions were gradually growing shorter. The last traces of the Atlantic Federation's drugs had been purged from her system, though she would still require the synthetic versions cooked up by the Archangel's medical staff for a while to come.

For all that he'd obsessed over the poor girl's well-being since he and Heero had spirited her away from ZAFT, though, Shinn couldn't fully concentrate on Stella now. Not because of yesterday's battle or the part he'd played in Unato's demise, though he supposed those events had indirectly brought him to this point. No, it was because of what Heero had revealed to him after they'd returned to the Archangel that night and the Gundam pilot had talked his comrades into officially inducting Shinn into Terminal. When that had been completed, Heero had taken him inside the cockpit of Gundam Albion, or as Shinn had quickly learned, Wing Gundam Zero Albion as it's true name went, and shown him a series of recordings.

Recordings that had rocked Shinn's world.

Their conversation from the drive back to the Archangel following Unato's assassination had echoed in Shinn's mind, and he only then realized just how appropriate Heero's response to his jest was.

"Why, is Terminal sitting on some Area 51-style secrets? The entire Earth Sphere knows that alien life is a thing; every schoolkid's seen pictures of Evidence 01. I'm sure you guys have some juicy information tucked away, but it can't be anything as big as life from another world."

"Well… you just might be surprised."

"No kidding," Shinn murmured under his breath, even now still struggling to process all that he had learned over the course of just a few hours, "Holy shit…"

It was utterly ridiculous. A whole separate universe with its own Earth Sphere, its own colonies, its own wars, and its own Gundams? And Heero and his fellow Gundam pilots had all come from there? Had Shinn learned about it even just a week ago, he would've called whoever told him it insane. Even now, knowing what he did, it was hard to swallow. Still, what Heero had shown Shinn made a pretty compelling case.

The old me might have accused him of fabricating it all, he mused, but now… well, I guess I'm a lot more open to new ideas than I used to be.

Compared to the crash course he'd gotten on the After Colony world, everything else that Shin had learned as part of his ongoing official Terminal orientation almost seemed downright ordinary. A good chunk of it was stuff he'd already gotten a feel for thanks to flying with the paramilitary group since his run from ZAFT; standard tactics, protocols, who the organization counted as allies, and other such items. Still, Shinn was keenly aware of just how new he was to the group, and there was much more that he still had to learn.

"Surprised you're awake," said a familiar male voice from behind him, "You clocked a pretty late night."

Shinn rubbed his eyes before looking over his shoulder to find Heero standing there; Shinn hadn't even heard him enter the medical bay. "Didn't really sleep much. Had a lot on my mind."

Heero nodded. "Understandable. I know we gave you plenty of food for thought with your induction."

Shinn chuckled. "Yeah, you think so? My head's still spinning… I guess it hasn't really sunk in yet. Just have to give it time, I suppose."

"Well, you'll have some," Heero remarked, "We're sticking around Orb for the near future. Cagalli's still getting her new government in order, and the other powers might consider Orb to be in a vulnerable transition period. We want to be on hand in case any of them decide to make a move."

"That makes sense," said Shinn, "So, what brings you over here? Checking up on Stella, or was it something else?"

"Both," Heero replied as he looked down at her, "How's she doing?"

Shinn smiled. "Pretty well. She's getting through her physical therapy sessions quicker than before. Doctor Monroe says he psyche evaluations are getting better, though she also said that Stella still has a long way to go there. She's not going to be able to survive on her own for several years at least."

"Well, then it's a good thing she won't be alone," said Heero.

Shinn's smile grew slightly. "Yeah, she won't be."

"How much longer do you think she'll be out for?" Heero asked.

"Her naps after physical therapy usually last a couple of hours," Shinn answered, "so probably for a little while."

"Then you have time to step away for a bit," said Heero before turning towards the exit, "Come with me. I have something for you."

Shinn's eyes widened. "What? More files about your old world?"

Heero shook his head. "Something a bit more exciting. Let's go."

Heero headed for the door, with Shinn quickly standing to follow suit. As they worked their way through the ship's corridors, Shinn looked around furtively for eavesdroppers before turning to his friend.

"So, uhm… has Cagalli said anything yet?" the ZAFT defector whispered, "About her uncle, I mean?"

"Not directly," said Heero, "but I did get a message from her a little while ago; she's going to swing by here later this afternoon. She wants a private chat. Not hard to fill in the blanks from there."

Shinn winced in apprehension. "Everything going to be okay with you two?"

"We'll work things out," Heero answered, "It's not the first time we've butted heads."

"You need any help?" Shinn asked, "Want me to come with? We were both involved, after all."

Heero shook his head. "Better that you stay out of this. In this situation, you'd be liability."

Shinn recoiled. "Liability? What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Deniability's the name of the game," Heero reminded him, "and that has to be preserved. Doing so involves walking a fine line between omission and outright lying. No offense, Shinn, but you have a shit poker face. Under pressure from Cagalli, you'd crack."

Shinn folded his arms. "And you won't?"

"I know her," Heero replied, "I can handle what she brings to the table. Besides, the fewer people she suspects being involved here, the better."

Shinn nodded. "If you say so. Anyway, where exactly are we going?"

"The hangar," said Heero.

That was not the answer Shinn had been expecting. "Wait, really? What are you giving to me here?"

"Strictly speaking, it's not actually mine to give," Heero remarked, "It's Cagalli's, believe it or not."

Shinn blinked in confusion. "Cagalli's?"

"You'll see soon enough," said Heero.

They arrived at the hangar a minute later, and Heero wasted no time in leading Shinn over to one of the mobile suit berths. The unit occupying the space was one Shinn had seen before, though it was a dull gray now thanks to its Phase Shift Armor being deactivated.

The Strike Rouge.

"No way…" Shinn murmured before turning to Heero, "Cagalli's really letting me pilot this?"

Heero nodded. "That's right. Now that she's back home, her responsibilities as Orb's Chief Representative mean she's not taking to the field unless things get desperate. She had her mobile suit shipped over here from the airbase this morning. Strike Rouge might be an old machine, but it's a solid one, and your talents will make it formidable even with the stiff competition from newer ZAFT and Earth Alliance models. It's yours, Shinn; Cagalli's already said as much."

Shinn looked up at the machine. Maybe it was an older model, but it was still imposing. More importantly, it looked just enough like the Impulse to give him a sense of familiarity. If he had to step into the cockpit of a new mobile suit after weeks spent flying the Skygrasper, he could certainly do worse than this one.

"What do you think?" asked Heero.

Shinn slowly smiled. "I think I like it. How soon can I start training on it?"

"Immediately," Heero replied, "There are plenty of simulator programs stored in there, so feel free to run through whichever ones you want."

"Alright," said Shinn before a thought occurred to him, "Hey, uhm… do you think she'd mind if I changed the Phase Shift Armor color program? No offense to Cagalli, but the whole pinkish-red thing isn't really my style."

"It's yours now, so you can do with it as you please," Heero answered, "The original Strike's color pattern is saved in there. You should use that. It suits you."

Shinn rubbed his hands together eagerly as he eyed his new unit. "Alright, then. Let's get started!"

….

Heading over to the officers' lounge, Heero mentally ran through his prepared responses. It was difficult to say for certain just how Cagalli would react; her message requesting a private in-person meeting had been neutral, revealing nothing.

You knew going into this that it would cause friction, he told himself, Cagalli may have no love for her uncle, especially after learning about him selling out the refugees at Elysium, but she still wanted him to answer for his crimes through legal avenues. You undercut that.

While Heero firmly believed that he and the others who had played a role in the assassination scheme had done the right thing, he wouldn't deny the validity of Cagalli's position. As the Orb Union's Chief Representative freshly restored to power, she wanted to act within the bounds of her nation's laws and firmly believed that punishing her uncle through the country's legal system was the right path. Heero disagreed with that on multiple grounds, not the least of which was that wealthy men like Unato historically showed an alarming tendency to beat the rap or at least worm their way out of the punishment they deserved, but he could respect Cagalli's belief in Orb's courts being the best venue for forcing a reckoning with her uncle's crimes.

When he reached his destination, Heero paused for a moment just outside the door and took a deep breath to center himself. He then stepped forward to trigger the sliding door's sensor and went inside. Cagalli was already there, having swapped out the Orb military uniform she had been favoring during her 'exile' for a burgundy business suit and white button-up shirt.

She smiled in greeting as the door closed behind him, the gesture striking Heero as genuine despite an underlying note of tension. "Thanks for coming. Sorry for dragging you away from training."

"Don't worry about it," Heero replied, "If anything, I'm surprised you were able to come over here; you have a much busier schedule than I do now."

Cagalli let out a weary sigh before chuckling. "Tell me about it. As glad as I am to be back, I'd forgotten how stressful actually trying to govern can be. Almost makes me want you guys to organize another kidnapping."

"It probably wouldn't be a good look for you to disappear just after returning to Orb," Heero remarked, "though we can always make the arrangements if you're desperate enough."

Cagalli laughed softly. "Maybe if I need a vacation."

She then gestured at a nearby table, and the two of them sat down across from each other. There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other, with Heero more than content to let Cagalli make the first move.

When she did so, she surprised Heero by not bringing up her uncle as the first topic. "How'd Shinn react to the Strike Rouge? I know it's not the Impulse, but it has to beat the Skygrasper, right?"

"He was quite enthusiastic to start training on it," Heero answered, "From what I've seen so far, he's taken to it quite easily. Since ZAFT basically used the Strike as a template when designing the Impulse, the unit's similar enough to his old machine for Shinn to adapt without too much trouble."

Cagalli smiled. "That's good."

"He did mention dissatisfaction with your colors," Heero pointed out, "Hope you don't mind him reverting the Phase Shift Armor to the base Strike pattern."

Cagalli shrugged. "It's his mobile suit now, so he can customize away. Besides, I know my old colors aren't for everyone."

She was trying to sound casual, but her apprehension was impossible to hide. Cagalli struck Heero as dancing around the real reason for why she was here, and he began to wonder if he would have to force things. That would be easier said than done given the need to maintain Cagalli's plausible deniability.

Cagalli eventually took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "I received an… interesting report this morning. It concerns my uncle."

"What's going on?" asked Heero, trying to strike that fine balance between mild interest and neutrality.

"He was found down in Orb's port district," Cagalli answered, her eyes narrowing. "Or rather, his body was."

Heero arched an eyebrow. "Body?"

Cagalli slowly nodded. "Yeah… though it was missing a leg… along with most of his head."

Heero let his eyes narrow in imitation of Cagalli. "Do we know cause of death?"

"Two gunshots," said Cagalli, "involving very high caliber rounds. Nothing else really explains the mess at the scene."

"I see," Heero replied, "If his body was found at the port, then can we assume he was attempting to flee the country?"

"That's the assumption that the police are operating under," Cagalli affirmed, "The specific dock he was found at is in a part of the port district well-known for being a key link in international smuggling operations, no matter how many times we crack down on it. Given that my uncle was facing life in prison, it's logical for him to make a break for it."

Cagalli then leaned slightly forward. "What's strange, though, is how he was able to slip away in the first place. Wouldn't you agree?"

Heero nodded. "I would. Do you have any idea as to how he got that far?"

"The Wraiths were watching the mansion," Cagalli noted, "so I contacted Natarle. She said that there were unknown contacts off the coast which needed to be investigated in case they were mercenary remnants. Since there had been no signs of Unato trying to escape all day, it seems she felt confident in ordering the Wraiths away."

"I can understand her decision," Heero remarked, "Orb's armed forces might be behind you, and I understand that the outer island attacks helped you talk the mercenary commanders into withdrawing, but there was always the chance that one of the company leaders might refuse and make trouble. From a military standpoint, rogue mercs roaming around Orb Union territory are a far greater threat than Unato. I don't think Natarle was wrong in prioritizing them over your uncle."

"Maybe," Cagalli conceded, "but I still find it strange that she sent all three. Why not leave one behind?"

"Perhaps she wanted to cover a wider area or be able to concentrate overwhelming firepower," Heero suggested, "If she only knew that there were unknown contacts and didn't have more information than that, then she may have decided to play things safe and send all three at the cost of the lookout for Unato. I can't say for sure. You'd have to ask her."

Cagalli nodded, though the look she gave Heero suggested that she was far from fully accepting his 'theories.' "I might. I know Natarle's a seasoned officer, so I can respect her reasoning, whatever it may be. Still, for her to at least not make sure a contingency was in place to keep watch over Unato's rather sloppy on her part… almost uncharacteristically so."

Heero shrugged. "Anyone can make a mistake, whether they be a rookie or an experienced officer. Given the complex situation that your restoration has been, there was a lot of moving parts for leaders like Natarle to track. It sounds like she had to make a snap decision and went with what she thought was the right call at the time."

Cagalli was silent for a few seconds before shifting gears. "The crime scene investigation's ongoing, naturally, so I'm still getting reports. From what I've heard so far, it sounds like the officers handling the case aren't exactly optimistic about finding a suspect."

"What makes you say that?" asked Heero.

Cagalli clasped her hands before her as her eyes locked with Heero's. "Apparently, whoever killed Unato was rather thorough in covering their tracks. No shell casings were found at the scene, for starters, and there was no evidence on Unato's body. No impact points for the bullets, either, suggesting that the shooter aimed so their shots would end in the water after going through my uncle. In fact, the only thing that could be considered sloppy is the fact that Unato's body was left at the scene, and no effort was made to conceal it."

"Interesting," Heero murmured, furrowing his brow in a show of thinking it over, "What do the police make of it?"

"They're not sure what to make of it," Cagalli replied, "The closest thing they have to a working theory right now is that Unato somehow got in contact with traffickers who agreed to smuggle him out of the country. He got to the port, but then there was an altercation. Maybe a dispute on the price of passage."

Heero tilted his head slightly. "They think he was killed because he wouldn't agree to their price?"

"That's as close as they have to a possible motive right now," Cagalli answered as she eyed him, "I don't suppose you could think of any other motives, could you?"

"Unato made many enemies," Heero pointed out, "especially after he placed Orb into alignment with the Atlantic Federation. Combine that with what was recently unveiled to the public regarding his family's dealings in the last war, and you'd have a bountiful list of potential suspects."

"I can't argue with that," said Cagalli, "It does seem awfully strange for a dispute over money to be what killed him. You'd think that anyone contracted to smuggle someone like Unato out of the country would realize that he could meet any price they asked, and that he'd be desperate enough to pay. Killing him while haggling seems counterproductive."

"It could've been accidental," Heero suggested, "Maybe someone had a gun drawn on him when they were arguing over price and things got heated. Things were probably tense down there given the state of the country and the rush to escape. Perhaps someone got jump and their trigger finger slipped."

Cagalli arched an eyebrow. "A trigger finger slip with a high-caliber weapon that takes out his leg and his head?"

Heero shrugged. "Stranger things have happened in times of war. You and I know that better than most."

Cagalli let out a heavy exhalation before standing up and walking over to the window. Heero remained seated, content to watch and wait for her next move.

"You're probably wondering why I'm even bothering with this," she eventually said, "I mean, it's not like many people will be shedding tears over my uncle's demise. I'm certainly not going to be one of them. Part of me is glad that he's dead and gone now. Given what he's responsible for, it's hard not to say that he had it coming."

Heero slowly nodded. "One could call it karmic. He sold out refugees and set them up for slaughter two years ago, and now he's murdered when trying to flee his own country."

"There's definitely some poetry to it," Cagalli admitted, "It's one form of justice, one that he deserved. However… it's not the only form of justice… and those who would've been served by another form now can't be."

Heero raised his head as Cagalli turned around to look at him, refusing to back down before her firm gaze. "It's true that a war crimes trial was something he deserved, and seeing him in the docket being sentenced likely would've been cathartic for surviving families of his victims. The evidence against him would've been overwhelming; a guilty verdict would not have been in doubt."

Cagalli folded her arms. "I'm glad we agree on that much… though I imagine we'd disagree on other points here."

"No harm with a disagreement among friends," Heero remarked.

"So long as those friends are honest about that disagreement," Cagalli amended.

Heero nodded. "Of course."

Cagalli walked back over to the table and sat down across from him. "As you said, the evidence against my uncle should he have gone to trial would've been overwhelming. There would've been no chance of him weaseling out of a life sentence, though I'm sure he and his lawyers would've tried. His death might have been karmic, but was it necessary for justice? Was it right for his killers to rob his victims of their day in court, of the chance to find closure in seeing the man who sold out their friends and family cuffed and walked out to be placed behind bars for the rest of his life? Even if I might take some satisfaction in my uncle being dead now, it rings hollow when I weigh it against that. It was far quicker than he deserved; rotting away for years behind bars would've been more appropriate."

"I can understand that viewpoint," Heero replied, "though I would argue that, even isolated or imprisoned, Unato would have remained a threat. The Atlantic Federation had already used him once to pry Orb out of your grasp and pull the country into their sphere of influence, turning your nation into just another source of troops and weapons for their genocidal war. Unato remaining alive represented an opportunity for the Atlantic Federation, giving them a chance to free him, get him out of the country, and use him as a puppet down the line. It's not without precedent; just look at the Italians during World War II. Their king arrested Mussolini in 1943 and had him confined to a hotel in the Gran Sasso d'Italia mountain range. Once the Germans found out, they dispatched special forces under Otto Skorzeny to extract him. Their operation was successful, and the Germans then used Mussolini as the public head of their puppet Italian Social Republic, which continued fighting alongside the Third Reich until April 1945."

Cagalli sighed. "My tutors made sure I studied history, so I know that example. Even if the Italians had killed Mussolini, the Germans simply would've found someone else to head up their northern Italian puppet state. Not much would've changed."

"That state would've lacked a leader with public name recognition," Heero countered, "It would've been less effective as a rump state."

"We could probably go back and forth about that all day," said Cagalli, "but it'd just be splitting hairs. Look, I know the point that you're trying to make here. You believe that Unato remained a danger as long as he was still alive, and I can understand where you're coming from. I'm the one he de facto deposed at the start of this stupid war, remember? I definitely appreciate him having the capacity to pull that stunt again; he would be more than happy to keep serving the Atlantic Federation as a puppet. When I look at it that way… I can see the logic in wanting him dead. It's a much more guaranteed way of removing him as a threat. From a certain point of view… it's almost like whoever killed him was doing me a favor, intentional or otherwise."

Heero nodded. "That's one way to look at it."

"Even so," Cagalli continued as her gaze locked with his, "for something as important as this, I would've preferred to be involved, or at least in the know. Is it a favor? Sure, since it removes a threat, but without proper planning it could cause problems. The other nobles are asking questions, and the only thing going for me and my government right now is the lack of evidence at the crime scene, which means that this can't be tied back to me… almost as if that was the intent from the start."

Heero shrugged. "Who can say?"

"Who can, indeed?" Cagalli replied while her eyes narrowed, "After all, it's highly unlikely that the culprit will ever be found. Unato's killing will probably go down as one of history's unsolved mysteries."

"Is that really a bad thing?" asked Heero.

Cagalli was quiet for a moment. "I suppose not. It leaves survivors of his victims without the proper closure that a trial would've brought, so I can't exactly say I'm happy about it… but it's still a form of justice in the end. Whether I agree with it or not doesn't matter; the deed's already done. Besides, we have bigger fish to fry."

"That's true," Heer concurred, "Between establishing your government, taking stock of Orb's military situation, and finalizing the security pact with the Eurasian Federation, you definitely have your hands full. Makes my training seem like a cakewalk by comparison."

Cagalli chuckled as she stood up. "Yeah… makes me miss the days when all I had to worry about was training and the next battle. I'm almost jealous of you. Still, we both have busy schedules, and we need to get back to them. Thanks for taking the time to meet with me."

"Likewise," Heero replied as he rose, "If there's anything else you ever want to discuss, you know where to find me."

"I do," said Cagalli as she headed for the door, only to pause just before the exit and look over her shoulder, "Oh, Heero?"

"Yeah?" he said.

Cagalli smiled wearily. "We've been friends for a long time now, and I'd like that to continue. The thing about friends, though, is that they're supposed to trust each other. When they make a big decision that's going to impact their friends, they should talk about it with their friends. Even if they think that they're protecting their friends with secrecy. I can understand that… even appreciate it… but I prefer my friends to be open with me. Even if that means a disagreement, at least it'll be an honest disagreement."

Heero nodded, recognizing the olive branch along with the accompanying terms. "I understand. We'll have those disagreements openly and honestly. You have my word."

Cagalli let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. Oh, one more thing."

Heero arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Cagalli's smile became a surprisingly devious smirk. "Off the record… overkill, much?"

Heero chuckled. "That word's not in my vocabulary. You should know that."

Cagalli laughed. "Right… you're the guy that flies around with anti-colony artillery, after all!"

"Thanks for proving my point," Heero quipped.

"Yeah, guess I did," Cagalli conceded, "Not sure when I'll be able to swing by again, so take care of yourself."

Heero inclined his head. "Same goes for you. Remember, you're not alone; we're behind you all the way."

"I know," said Cagalli, "and we all still have a lot of work ahead before this war's going to end."

….

"You weren't kidding about this place," Quatre remarked as he gazed out over the water sparkling in the setting sun, "It has one hell of a view."

The place in question was the café that Lan had promised to take him to when they were back in Orb; the Cat's Nine. A lovely establishment that overlooked one of the capital's many beach parks, the sign hanging at its entrance sported the image of a black cat with nine tails, with the café's name being written in white below the feline. A quaint wooden structure painted white, it was jarring contrasted by the sleek metal buildings that dominated Orb's capital, which when combined with the view from the outdoor dining terrace and the exceptional fare on offer gave it a very special charm in Lan's eyes.

While Quatre was looking out at the sea, Lan Zhao was admiring a different but no less lovely view. The two of them were out in civilian clothes, which in Quatre's case meant jeans and a white button up shirt with a couple of the top-most buttons left open; even in December, Orb was still comfortably warm. Lan hungrily eyed the glimpse of his chest, already picturing what would happen when she got him back to her room aboard the Dominion.

Then again, with the way Quatre's eyes flickered her way over his cup of coffee, it would not surprise Lan if similar thoughts were running through his mind. That was certainly what she hoped to accomplish with leaving the upper buttons of her white blouse undone, and the short black skirt she wore offered a very flattering view of her slender legs. She had also thrown it a bit of extra decoration to her hair in the form of red tassels dangling by golden chains from the lacquered chopsticks holding up her black hair. Going by the glances she had gotten from her date so far, Quatre certainly seemed to appreciate Lan's efforts at enticement.

Although she'd very much been planning this date, it had caught Lan off guard when Natarle had announced limited shore leave starting this afternoon. Lan had been operating under the assumption that it would probably be at least a few days before any such allowance would be offered, chiefly so that they could ensure the stability of Cagalli's fragile new government. She didn't know the details, but from what snippets Pris had passed along to Lan it sounded like things were going much smoother on Cagalli's end of things than had originally been planned, hence the accelerated opening of shore leave. Only a few personnel were allowed to take it at a time, though, which suggested that Natarle and the rest of Terminal's senior leadership still had concerns over possible enemy action.

Which just means that we need to make the most of it, Lan thought as she sipped her coffee before turning her attention to the scrumptious half-eaten pastry on her plate, and I'll be doing just that tonight.

"I knew you'd like it," Lan replied with a smile, "Figured you'd appreciate this place. A real gem, right?"

"It is," Quatre confirmed as he met her gaze, "though it wouldn't shine as much without you being here."

Lan batted her eyelashes and looked down at her food, hoping to hide the sudden flush of red in her face. "Well… I like to think that I know how to brighten up a place."

When she raised her head again, she found Quatre's warm smile waiting for her. "You really do."

It should be illegal for a guy this cute to be such a sweetheart, she mused as he heart raced, Quatre, from any other guy, that would've been too corny to bear. You, though… goodness, you're a real Prince Charming in every sense of the word.

"Did you and your friends come here often after settling in Orb?" asked Quatre.

"A few times with my friends," Lan answered as a sudden lump formed in her throat, "It… it was…"

Quatre immediately looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

Lan took a deep breath to steady herself. "This place… it was my mother's favorite. After we started our new lives in Orb, she somehow found this café. She took me here one weekend, I fell in love with it, and we just… sort of made it our thing. We would come here a few times a month."

She smiled in a melancholic way as a wave of bittersweet nostalgia swept over her. "Mom… she loved everything about this little joint. The style, the view of the sea, the drinks, the food… I think it was her favorite place in the capital. After she… after she was killed, I… didn't come as often. Maybe once a month with Adaline and Pris, but it never felt the same. Know what I mean?"

Quatre slowly nodded. "I think I do. I never knew my mother, but after my father died… I started seeing the familiar places in our home colony a bit differently. Some of them became a bit… difficult to go near. Still are, sometimes."

"I feel that," Lan murmured as she looked out at the sea, the waves a riot of orange and scarlet in the setting sun, "I love Orb, I really do. Especially the capital; there's so much to see and do here. Even so, anytime I come into the downtown area nowadays… it feels like there's a spot on almost every corner that reminds me of Mom. A place she liked to eat, somewhere she would shop… it's like those buildings almost became ghosts to me."

"Yet you still took me to one of them," Quatre softly remarked as he reached out to take her hand, "Lan, if I'd known that coming here would cause you pain…"

"You would've said we should go somewhere else," she finished for him as she affectionately squeezed his hand, "That's why I didn't tell you until now, Quatre. Even if it hurts to come here, I still wanted to take you here. I wanted to show this place to you because I love it, even with the pain… and because Mom loved it. She would've loved to come here with the two of us."

Quatre smiled in understanding. "I'm sure she would've, and I would've loved to be in her company… and yours, of course."

Lan leaned across the table to peck him on the cheek. "Of course."

They finished their drinks and food in relative quiet, with Lan paying the bill; it wasn't like Quatre's wealth had come with him to the Cosmic Era, after all, and even if it had, she would've insisted on paying for the two of them at this place. Rising from their seats, Lan gestured out at the beach.

"Care for a stroll?" she asked, "We've still got time before we need to be back at the ship."

"I'd like that," said Quatre.

Start "Love Deterrence" (acoustic guitar version)

Looping her arm through his, Lan let Quatre lead the way out the back gate of the café's dining terrace and down the stairs that led to the beach. This particular stretch of sand and water was normally crawling with locals and tourists alike, but the war had cut down on the latter while the former were still understandably skittish given the how tense the past few days had been. Cagalli's first public address upon her return had done wonders to calm and reassure the civilian population, but people were still nervous and mostly sticking close to home.

All the better for us, Lan thought, since it means we have the beach practically to ourselves. Almost like being back at Home One.

"Feels a bit strange being back here," she confessed as the waves came to a stop just a meter away from their feet, "The Earth Sphere's still at war, and Orb's a part of that, but still… it all feels so far away right now. That's the thing with this country; when you're here, it's easy to forget the troubles of the wider world."

Quatre nodded. "I know what you mean. During the war in our world, a friend of Heero's revived a nation known as the Sanc Kingdom, whose royal family was famous for their teachings of total pacifism. Unfortunately, the kingdom didn't last long in the brutal reality of the world, but for that brief time I was there… it felt like an oasis of calm. Orb has a similar feel to it, I suppose, though it's more like a walled-off oasis. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Lan answered, "I know Cagalli's not like this, but so many of the people here often seem like they just want to hide away from the world, and Orb's principals combined with its military let them believe they can do that. They want to keep the world out, but it doesn't work like that. Not when monsters like LOGOS and Blue Cosmos are out there running the show. The world's only spiraling further down into bloodshed and chaos, and leaving the Earth Alliance doesn't mean Orb's no longer a part of that mess. Its people… whether they realize it or not, they'll have to make a stand at some point."

"Cagalli will have to be the one to open their eyes," Quatre remarked, "They're her people, which means it's her role to motivate them into action. They may be glad she's back, but right now they're afraid for the future. It's hard to blame them, really. I feel the same way."

Lan reached down and intertwined her fingers with his. "Yeah… so do I. This little bit of calm we have right now… I think we both know that it's not going to last forever."

Quatre smiled. "It's not, which is why we need to make the most of it."

He surprised her by coming to a halt, and Lan watched in confusion as Quatre took off his shoes and socks, placing the latter inside the former along with his cell phone before rolling up his pants to about his knees. "Quatre?"

He gestured out at the glistening water. "Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's have some fun!"

Lan looked past him at the setting sun and the dazzling orange-red water for a moment before turning back to meet his radiant gaze and smiling in return. "Yeah… let's!"

Setting her shoes next to his and tucking away her socks and phone inside them, Lan let Quatre take her hand and lead her out into the shallows. The cool water lapped at her feet and legs, eliciting a thrilling chill.

"Ahh…" she softly moaned as she closed her eyes to savor the feeling, "This is great…"

She heard Quatre chuckle. "Great, huh? How about this?"

A blast of water hitting her chest and face snapped Lan out of her reverie. Opening her eyes, she belatedly realized that Quatre had let go of her hand and was hunched low in front of her, his hands already in the water and about to unleash a fresh assault.

"You!" she cried out in between bouts of laughter.

Quatre grinned wickedly as he splashed Lan again. "Me! What are you going to do about it?"

Lan's response was a mischievous smirk. "Oh, it's on!"

Her retaliation came swiftly and enthusiastically, and soon Quatre was as drenched as her. Water sprayed back and forth between them for a few moments before Lan pounced and tackled her date. The two of them tumbled down onto the beach, with Quatre landing on his back and Lan straddling his chest as the waves gently lapped the sand around them.

Quatre smiled as he reached up to brush a wet lock of hair out of Lan's face. "You win."

"What's my prize?" she purred as she took in the glorious view, relishing the sight of his chest through his soaked white shirt.

"This," Quatre answered as his hand slipped behind her neck and tugged her downward.

He pulled her into a kiss that Lan eagerly leaned into. Mouths opened, tongues danced and intertwined, and the two of them lost themselves in each other. For those precious moments, the world beyond no longer existed. When they finally broke for air, Lan gazed down at her precious Desert Prince, his blond hair soaked and matting his forehead while his beautiful blue eyes gazed up at her like she was nothing less than a goddess.

"Beautiful…" she heard him murmur.

The two of them were utterly soaked, and the nice clothing that they'd worn for the date would be in need of a thorough cleaning when they got back to the ship, but neither of them cared. Lan laid down atop the Gundam pilot, kissing up and down his jawline before resting her chin on his upper chest and smiling like a shy schoolgirl with her crush as she looked at him. As Quatre took her in his arms and gently ran his fingers along her wet hair, Lan felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She knew in that moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt…

…that she never wanted to be parted from him.

End "Love Deterrence" (acoustic guitar version)

….

Leaning back in her comfy office chair, Erica Simmons took a moment to stretch her arms and neck before reaching for a freshly brewed pot of coffee that her secretary had been kind enough to drop off just a few minutes ago. The past few days had kept her extremely busy, and her workload only seemed to have intensified since Cagalli's official return to Orb.

I can't blame Lady Cagalli for wanting Morgenroete to ramp up our production numbers now, she thought, I don't think the Atlantic Federation can take a shot at us anytime soon, but ZAFT's another matter.

There was so much for the massive conglomerate to accomplish now, and Erica was just one cog in that great machine, albeit a rather important one. Between overseeing the transfer of Murasames to the Eurasians to make up their losses in the recent naval battle, managing multiple ongoing research projects, and making sure that a certain prototype built years ago was made ready for use, she had her hands full. Erica did not mind all the hustle and bustle, though. Cagalli's return had been a shot in the arm for all those Morgenroete personnel who had quietly chafed under Unato's rule. Before, they had been reluctant to work in their official capacity, knowing that their labors would be fueling Orb's part in the Atlantic Federation's campaign, and only the secret endeavors supporting Terminal had gotten the full enthusiasm of employees, and even then, it was only from those considered trustworthy enough to be in the loop. Now, though, the entire company was once again running like a well-oiled machine, morale bolstered by the certainty that came from the clarity that Cagalli's leadership of Orb provided. No one had to worry now about their work potentially being used in atrocities over in North Africa, Europe or outer space, and there was something to be said about knowing that one was serving a truly just cause.

Still, moral high ground could only fuel someone for so long, hence Erica eagerly downing her coffee. Even with that to keep her going, though, Erica figured that she only had another couple of hours or so left in her before she would have to call it a night. She was about to start reviewing her next batch of files when a chime came from the console, and she saw a request for video feed. Moving her work aside, Erica smiled when she saw a certain Gundam pilot appear on her screen.

"Heero, what a pleasant surprise," she said.

Heero nodded in greeting. "I'll try not to take too much of your time. I'm sure you have a lot on your plate."

"I do," Erica confirmed, "but it can wait for a bit. What did you need?"

"I was hoping for a status update on that… request I put in a while back," Heero answered.

Erica's smile grew. "I figured that would be the case. You're in luck; I heard from the friend that I commissioned for the job earlier today. That special item you ordered is ready, and it should be dropped off at my office tomorrow morning. I'll make sure it gets over to the Archangel promptly."

Heero sighed in relief. "Thank you, Erica. I owe you one."

Erica shook her head. "Don't mention it, Heero. I appreciate the thought, but consider this me helping out a friend. No need to make a debt out of it."

Heero took a deep breath. "In that case… I do have one more request."

Erica raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What is it?"

"I could use a bit of advice," Heero replied, "Regarding the gift… when should I give it to her?"

Erica folded her arms and leaned back. "You know full well what it will mean when you offer it to her, right? This isn't a regular 'gift', after all."

"I'm well aware of that," said Heero.

Erica nodded. "Well, seeing as we're in a rare lull right now, and we have no way of knowing when the next battle will come or what it'll bring… I'd say sooner rather than later, Heero. No regrets, right?"

"I think you have a point there," Heero concurred, "Well, tomorrow's Christmas Eve, so I was thinking then. What do you think?"

"I think that would be perfect," Erica answered, "Need any other tips? Place, atmosphere, that sort of thing?"

Heero shook his head. "I think I can figure the rest out. Thanks, though."

Erica inclined her head before smiling again. "Of course. I can't wait to hear how she reacts. I'm expecting details when it's all over, Heero!"

The young man chuckled. "I'm not a gossip, Erica. You should know that by now."

Erica winked. "I'm only teasing, Heero. Before it all goes down, just remember to take a deep breath and steady yourself. I'm rooting for you, and I know I'm not the only one!"

….

December 24th, C.E. 73

"There's a lot more people here than I was expecting," Shinn remarked as he bobbed and weaved his way through the throngs of shoppers.

"Well, it's Christmas Eve," Miriallia pointed out, "Everyone needs to get their last-minute shopping in."

"But Orb just went through a battle like two days ago," Shinn argued, "Shouldn't people be a bit more… nervous? Afraid of going out?"

"All the fighting was on the outer islands," Flay reminded him, "The Orb mainland didn't see much action. Besides, Cagalli's already addressed the people and shown them that she's back in charge, so that's probably got them feeling more comfortable about leaving their homes."

"I guess that makes sense," Shinn conceded.

Clad in the typical red and black attire of Morgenroete employees, the trio were using their precious allotment of limited shore leave to partake in the myriad of shops and kiosks that the largest mall in Orb's capital city, Olofat, had to offer. When Shinn had approached Flay and Miriallia when they were off duty to ask them for gift ideas for Stella, the two ladies had instead demanded to take him out shopping themselves rather than just give him a few suggestions. While Shinn appreciated their enthusiastic help, he had a sneaking suspicion that the two of them were just as interested in retail therapy for themselves as they were in finding a good present for Stella.

Well, as long as I have some help, I guess I can't really complain, Shinn mused, I mean, it's not like I know anything about buying presents for a girl. Mayu was easy to shop for; she just wanted gift cards so she could go buy video games. I don't think Stella's the gamer type. Then again… I don't know if she's ever played a video game at all. With how the Atlantic Federation used her, they probably didn't give her any time to find hobbies.

For their part, Flay and Miriallia seemed to have no trouble picking out gifts for their friends, nor did they have any compunctions about using Shinn as a pack mule for them. He already had his arm through the handles of half a dozen bags, and he was starting to fear for the structural integrity of the straps. Thankfully, the load was not particularly heavy for him. Military training combined with the enhanced genes of a Coordinator made Shinn quite fit indeed, though he was very much looking forward to depositing the load at some point soon. Having him carry everything was probably another reason why the girls had been so eager to take him out shopping with them.

At least they had proven serious about helping him shop for Stella and weren't just using him as a beast of burden. It had been quickly decided that Stella should not be limited in wardrobe to just what was available aboard the Archangel or what Morgenroete could provide, so Flay and Miriallia had wasted no time in selecting several outfits for her. Shinn would never consider himself a fashion expert, so he'd happily left picking clothes out to the experts. Flay and Miriallia had been clear on the clothing being gifts from them to Stella, which meant Shinn still had to figure out what kind of present he would get for her.

I've spent so much time with her since bringing her to the Archangel, he thought, but I've been so focused on helping with her recovery that I haven't asked her much about herself. What she likes to do, favorite things like colors or animals… it's all felt so trivial compared to helping her heal. Look at me now, though. Damn it, I really screwed up!

"We don't have all day, Shinn," Flay reminded him as he followed her and Miriallia through the crowd, "We really need to find something special for Stella soon."

Shinn's shoulders slumped. "No pressure, right?"

Miriallia looked at him over her shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "Don't worry, Shinn. I promise, we'll get her something great before we leave."

"It would help if we had more to go off of," Flay remarked, "Shinn, if we're going to help you, we need an idea of what to look for. Don't you know anything special about Stella?"

Shinn wracked his mind in desperation. "I don't know…"

"There has to be something you know about her that we can use," Miriallia pressed, "Think carefully, Shinn."

"You haven't known her very long, right?" Flay asked.

Shinn blinked as he considered it. "Well… no, actually. I first met her… wow, it was less than two months ago. Feels like it was further back than that."

"What was that like?" Flay continued, "Your first meeting?"

Shinn's face flushed red as he recalled how he'd run right into Stella back in the colony of Armory One, and how his hand had wound up in a rather unfortunate position. "Well, uhm… the first time we met… it didn't go great. Actually, we didn't even exchange names, so does it really count? Plus, it was right before she and the other people with her attacked Armory One, so it's not like we were able to talk to each other much at the time."

"When did you next meet her, then?" Miriallia inquired, "There must've been a point where you two met as something other than enemies, right?"

Shinn thought harder, and his mind eventually took him to that chance encounter on the coast of the Black Sea. "There was, actually. I mean, we were still on opposite sides at the time, but neither of us knew it. It was after I'd come down to Earth, when we'd moved to the Diocuia base. I was on leave and found her on the shore. She seemed familiar back then, but I don't think I made the connection until afterwards that she was the same girl I'd met back on Armory One. She was really enjoying the sea."

"What do you remember about that meeting?" asked Flay, "The one by the sea, I mean."

"She fell in, and I had to save her," Shinn answered, "Before that…"

The hustle and bustle of the mall faded into background noise as Shinn found himself reliving that memory. How he had found Stella at play among the rocks, the waves crashing around her. How she had danced to some silent tune that only she could hear…

…and how she'd smiled with childlike innocence and wonder as the birds flocked around her.

"Birds…" he murmured.

Miriallia raised an eyebrow. "What was that, Shinn?"

Shinn shook his head to snap himself back to the present. "When I found her by the sea… she was surrounded by birds. She seemed really happy about it, though that could've just been from seeing the sea, too."

Flay smiled as she turned to Miriallia. "That's something we can use, right?"

Miriallia nodded before turning around. "It is. Come on, we need to backtrack a bit. There's a shop we passed a while back that should have just what we need."

….

If we were still in the Atlantic Federation military, Natarle thought with a smile as she watched her subordinates string up Christmas lights around the bridge, I would've immediately shot this down. Hell, if we were still out in the field, I wouldn't allow it. I really shouldn't be allowing it even now, but… well, I guess I've softened up a bit.

With the situation in Orb having stabilized much more rapidly than had initially been projected, both the Archangel and Dominion were now berthed in secret Morgenroete docks. Supplies and munitions had been replenished quickly, so now Natarle and Murrue were taking the most of the opportunity to have their respective ships undergo maintenance and service. Overseeing that was not exactly exciting, so Natarle had allowed her crew to indulge themselves a bit when they weren't off duty by sprucing up the ship in the holiday spirit. In addition to the strings of green and red lights going up along the walls, a humble reef had been hung on the backside of Natarle's chair. She didn't plan on letting the decorations stand for long; they'd be taken down the morning after Christmas at the very latest, and much sooner if the ship was called to action. Still, Natarle would begrudgingly admit to enjoying the sight of her bridge being decorated in a festive manner.

"Make sure to keep those clear of the consoles and viewports," she gently reminded one of her officers as the man in question began untangling a fresh strand of lights.

She then heard the bridge door slide open, and a familiar male voice sounded a jolly laugh. "Ho, ho, ho, everybody!"

Chuckles rippled through the bridge, and Natarle rubbed her brow as she braced herself for what she was about to see. "What have you done now?"

Looking behind her, she was confronted with the sight of her ace pilot boyfriend looking utterly ridiculous. Where Mu had dug up the Santa Clause outfit from, she had no idea, but the Hawk of Endymion at least seemed to be having fun with it. His fit physique meant he could hardly play the traditional role of plump old Saint Nick, but Natarle still found herself appreciating the red jacket and leggings on him. She even got a good laugh out of the hat as its fluffy white-balled-tip constantly drooped down in Mu's face despite his best efforts to direct it elsewhere. He didn't have a sack of gifts slung over his shoulder like his costume's inspiration, though; instead, he was lugging a long cardboard box.

Mu struck a pose when he saw Natarle looking at him, stroking the fake-beard attached to his face with his left hand while his right kept the box steady over his shoulder. "Have you been a good girl this year, Captain?"

Natarle snorted. "Oh, shut up, you!"

Mu smirked and wagged a finger at her. "Hey, now; girls who talk like that to Santa might not get their present!"

"Well, we can't have that," Natarle replied with a smile as she stood up and went over to him, unable to resist grabbing the white-balled tip of his hat and playfully bopping it against his nose, "Having fun, Mu?"

Mu grinned. "You know it!"

"And just what do you have there?" she asked, motioning towards the box.

"It's a surprise," he answered with a wink.

Natarle folded her arms. "I don't like 'surprises' on my bridge."

Mu winked before setting the box down and opening it up. "I know. You can relax; it's just one more bit of decoration."

Peering inside, Natarle saw that it was a disassembled artificial Christmas tree. "I appreciate the thought, but I'm already bending the rules quite a bit here."

"Come on, Natarle," Mu pleaded, "It'll just be in the back corner here, completely out of the way. Little something pretty for people to look at when they come in and out of shift. I'm off duty, so I'll set the whole thing up and not take anyone else's time. Please?"

Natarle baited him with a faux-scowl, relishing his momentary look of panic before she smiled. "Alright, Mu. If you're putting it up, though, that means you're the one in charge of taking it down when the time comes."

"Fair enough," Mu conceded, smiling before leaning in to quickly peck Natarle on the cheek, "You're the best, babe."

Natarle rolled her eyes. "I told you not to call me that when I'm on duty."

Mu chuckled sheepishly. "Right, sorry. Anyway, I got a tree to set up."

Natarle sighed in theatrical exasperation, but as soon as Mu's focus went to putting up the tree and away from her, she smiled again. It was low-key adorable how he had thrown himself into the holiday spirt like this, plus Natarle figured that her crew probably would enjoy having a tree up here, fake or otherwise.

He's almost like an overgrown kid when it come to stuff like this, she thought as she fondly gazed at her boyfriend for a few seconds before returning to her seat, Mu… never change.

….

"Where'd Lan go?" asked Adaline as Priscilla brought over two fresh cups of cider, "She's usually one of the last to bow out of a party, not the first."

Her blonde friend smiled as she sat down across the table and gestured at the door. "She didn't leave alone; she dragged Quatre off with her. No points for guessing where those two are going."

The red-head chuckled as she accepted the cup. "Yeah, that tracks. Should've figured as much. She really can't keep her hands off him."

Priscilla smirked. "Can you blame her?"

"Guess I can't," Adaline admitted.

The two of them were partaking in a little holiday bash being thrown in the Dominion's mess hall. Someone had managed to acquire several mini-plastic Christmas trees since the ship had returned to Orb, and now those were decorating the tables, complete with white lights strung through their artificial branches. The cooks had set out a mixture of dinner and desert platters, and Adaline had already munched on perhaps a few more chocolate chip cookies tonight than she really should've. Classic holiday music rang in the background courtesy of a laptop and some hastily-assembled speakers, while crewmembers were scattered around the tables chatting, playing cards, and generally enjoying themselves.

"So," said Priscilla, "what should we drink to?"

Looking around the room, Adaline sighed in contentment before raising her cup. "To surviving this long?"

Priscilla shrugged. "Works for me."

Tapping their cups together before partaking in the cider, Adaline savored the taste. "This is good stuff. Didn't realize we had it in stock."

"I think one of the cooks made a quick stop in town during their leave," Priscilla remarked.

Adaline nodded. "That makes sense."

"It's too bad that we couldn't get everyone from both ships together," Priscilla lamented, "You know, like we used to do back at Home One."

"Can't be helped," said Adaline, "Situation's still tense; need to be ready in case the Earth Alliance or ZAFT tries something. That's why the drinks tonight are non-alcoholic."

"I know," Priscilla conceded, "At least everyone seems to be having a good time."

Adaline smiled as she caught sight of their flight lead sharing a table with her husband in the back corner. Shemei was sitting sideways on Eric's lap, with the Wolf of the Far East having donned a Santa Clause outfit for the occasion, and the Valkyrie was playfully tugging at his fake beard.

"Gues La Flaga's not the only one who really gets into the holiday spirit," Adaline noted.

"Remember the holiday party last year?" Priscilla remarked with a giggle, "I think both Mu and Eric had the Santa costumes on!"

Adaline sighed wistfully. "Yeah, that was a good time."

Her gaze drifted around the room a bit more before eventually settling on the table that Quatre and Lan had previously occupied. It turned out that when those two had taken their leave, they had left their dining companion behind; Trowa. Studying him, it looked to Adaline like he wasn't quite as into the holiday spirit as everyone else. Sure, he seemed relaxed enough, but he was also keeping everyone else at arm's length and looked a bit lost in thought.

"Speaking of good times," Adaline said as she gestured at the solitary Gundam pilot, "why don't we go spread a bit of holiday cheer?"

Following her gaze, Priscilla looked somewhat concerned. "I think Trowa might need some. He seems a bit out of it."

"My thoughts exactly," Adaline concurred as she rose, with Priscilla following suit.

The two of them strolled over, stopping to grab new plates full of snacks and to refill their cups. The Gundam pilot looked up as they drew near, seeming more curious than anything else.

Trowa inclined his head in greeting. "Adaline. Priscilla."

Adaline smiled. "Hey, Trowa. Mind if we join you?"

"We come bearing gifts," Priscilla chirped as she held out her plate, which was loaded with sugary morsels.

Trowa gestured at the empty chairs around the table. "Please."

"Have you tried the fudge yet?" Priscilla inquired as she sat down to Trowa's right, offering him a brown cube of sugary goodness, "It's really good."

"I've had a couple pieces," Trowa admitted as he accepted the one from Priscilla, "I guess one or two more can't hurt."

"You usually go for this sort of thing?" Adaline asked after settling in to his left, "Christmas cookies, candy canes, and all that holiday jazz?"

A very small smile graced the young man's face. "There was a time when I didn't. When I was younger, I was constantly on the move… one battlefield to the next. Christmas wasn't really something I paid much attention to back then. Over the past couple of years though, after the war back in our world was done… I started to appreciate it more. Catherine helped me get into it."

Adaline and Priscilla traded covert glances before the latter asked. "Catherine? Who's she?"

"A friend of mine," Trowa answered, "as well as a coworker. We both perform at the same circus."

Adaline's eyes widened slightly. "Wait, back up a second. You're in the circus?"

"That was my day job before coming out here," Trowa replied, "I was an acrobat, and I'm part of Catherine's knife act."

"Knife act?" Priscilla repeated with a concerned look.

Trowa nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah. She puts me up against a target board and throws knives around me. She's very good at it."

"You sound awfully at ease about that," Adaline remarked, "Isn't that a little… you know… terrifying?"

Trowa shrugged. "Not really. Catherine's an expert in her craft. Besides, compared to combat, our performance is tame."

"Good point," Priscilla conceded.

Adaline smiled as an idea popped into her head. "If you're an acrobat, can you show us a trick or two? Doesn't have to be anything big; just something you can pull off in here."

Trowa looked at her blankly for a second, and Adaline feared she might have made a mistake, but he then nodded a moment later. "Sure."

Adaline and Priscilla watched as he stood up and took a step back from the table. He looked around the room, then leapt into the air. With fluid grace, he flipped and spun upside down before landing flawlessly on one hand on the other side of the table. Adaline and Priscilla broke out into applause as he righted himself, and they weren't the only ones; quite a few of the partygoers had seen the little stunt and were clapping enthusiastically, prompting the Gundam pilot to bow like a proper showman.

"That's about what I can manage in a room like this," said Trowa as he sat back down, "I can jump higher, but I don't really have the clearance in here."

"That was amazing!" Adaline praised, "You pulled all that off from just a freestanding jump!"

"Well done!" Priscilla cheered.

"It was nothing, really," Trowa insisted, though Adaline caught just a hint of a smile on his face.

"I bet the crowds go wild for you back home," Adaline remarked.

Trowa shook his head. "I get applause, but Catherine's the real star of the show. As she should be."

"Are you two… close?" asked Priscilla.

"We live and work together," Trowa replied, "So in that sense, yes."

"Yeah, but are you two, like… 'together' together?" Adaline pressed.

Trowa blinked in confusion for a moment before appearing to catch on. "What do you… oh, that. No, we're not involved like that."

"Why not?" Priscilla inquired, "If you trust her enough to let her throw knives at you, there has to be some chemistry there, right?

"It's not like what you're thinking," Trowa insisted.

Adaline was curious. "Then what is it like?"

Trowa was quiet for a few seconds. "It's like we're… family. When I'm around her, it feels like I'm with an older sister. Does that make sense?"

Priscilla smiled. "It does."

Adaline reached over to pat him on the back. "I get it. I'm sorry that you can't spend the holiday with her this year. I bet she's worried about you."

Trowa smiled. "I'm sure she is. When I eventually get back, she's going to really let me have it."

"She shouldn't be too hard on you," Adaline argued, "I mean, you're helping us save our world from genocidal maniacs and scheming bastards. She should be proud of you."

Trowa chuckled. "I'd like to think so, but I know Catherine. She thoroughly despises anything to do with war, and I can't blame her for that. Even if the cause is just, the bloodshed naturally disgusts her, along with the danger that I put myself in."

"Well, then the two of us will have to write a letter to send back with you," Priscilla suggested, "That way she can hear from some of the people you helped while you were in our world."

Trowa shook his head. "You don't have to do that."

"No, but I think we'd both like to," Adaline pushed back with a smile, "After all you've done to help us, I think the least we can do is send something back with you that'll convince Catherine to take it easy on you for worrying her so much."

Trowa chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess it wouldn't hurt. Thanks."

"Anytime," Priscilla replied before gesturing at one of the other tables, "I think they've got a spare deck of cards over there. Seeing as we've all had our fill of snacks for now, how about a game?"

"I'm down," said Adaline before glancing at Trowa, "How about you?"

Trowa smiled again. "A game sounds nice."

And that was how the three of them spent the rest of their Christmas Eve: sitting around a table going through rounds of poker, the world and war beyond the Dominion quietly and happily forgotten.

….

After taking a sip of hot cocoa, Murrue set the mug down and sighed in contentment as she smiled across the table at her lover. "This is nice, isn't it?"

Heero nodded. "It is. The party down in the mess hall was good, but you know me; I've never exactly been one for festivities. Quiet privacy like this is much more my speed."

Murrue reached across the table to take his hand. "I know. Still, I'm glad you joined me down there for a bit. It meant a lot, and not just to me."

A small smile graced Heero's face. "As long as you had a good time, that's enough for me."

Murrue chuckled as her mind drifted back to the celebration they had partaken in earlier. "Oh, I definitely did. I never thought I would see you get so invested in a game of poker!"

"That's because it came down to me and Duo in the final round," Heero reminded her with a smirk, "I don't like to lose, especially to him. He'd never have shut up about it if he'd won."

"Got to keep the God of Death in his place, hm?" Murrue remarked.

"Someone has to keep his head from growing too big," Heero replied, "Hilde's not here to knock him down a peg, so it falls to me."

"I'm sure she would appreciate that," said Murrue, "It's too bad that she has to be parted from him on Christmas Eve. I can't imagine how she and the others back in your old world feel right now. I felt like I was going crazy when you were on the Minerva, and you weren't there very long. The other Gundam pilots have all been in our world for months now, and with no way to send a message back home… their friends and family must be worried sick."

Heero slowly nodded. "One more reason for us to end this war as soon as possible; so we can help them get home."

Murrue raised her cup. "I'll drink to that."

Heero tapped his against hers, and they both savored fresh sips of hot cocoa. While the two of them might have retired a bit early from the crew party down in the mess hall, they were still enjoying the holiday spirit in their own way. Sometime between his training wrapping up for the day and before Murrue's watch on the bridge had ended, Heero had taken some of the decorations that the crew had brought aboard the ship and set them up in the cabin. Strings of red and green lights hung from the ceiling, while a mini plastic Christmas tree sat in the middle of the table the two of them now occupied, blue and white lights strung along its fake branches.

Holiday celebrations didn't mean much to him before he came over to the Cosmic Era, Murrue recalled, but he's tried to get more into the spirit of these occasions since then… for my sake.

She smiled as she gazed at the tree and then back at him, prompting a puzzled look from Heero. "What is it?"

Murrue gestured at the decorations. "Just appreciating your handiwork."

Heero shook his head. "It's not that much. Just what I could throw together without taking too much away from the crew members who were setting up for the party."

"It's perfect, Heero," she reassured him, "The thought's what really matters at times like this. Trust me, right now, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

She was relieved to see a small smile appear on his face. "Same here. It's funny… before I met you, I didn't feel like Christmas or other holidays like it were something that I deserved to celebrate. With all the lives I'd taken before… and since… it almost felt wrong to honor the occasion when so many others couldn't because of me. I suppose part of me still feels that way, but only a part. Before I met you, Christmas was just another day of the year, nothing more. Now, though… it really is something special… because I get to spend it with you. This year, last year and the one before…"

"And many more to come," Murrue finished for him.

Heero closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, Murrue was struck by the sudden urgency in his gaze. "All of them… for the rest of our lives… if you wish it."

Murrue's eyes widened, and heart began racing. "Heero?"

Heero took a deep breath, suddenly looking more nervous now than Murrue had ever seen from him before. "Murrue… these past years that I've spent living with you… including this new war… I think they're the first in my life that I've been genuinely happy. In my old world, I had the friends that I made over the course of our war, and they mean a lot to me… even if I've never been very good at putting that into words for them. Even so, when the fighting was over, I couldn't find peace with them, couldn't just take a step back and enjoy life with them. Duo, Trowa, Quatre, Wufei… even Relena… no matter how much I valued my friendship with them, it never felt like I could find what I was really looking for with them. Then again… I guess I didn't know what I was looking for. Not until I came here… and met you."

"These past years with you," he continued, "have been absolutely incredible… and I never want them to end. When this new war kicked off, when we really got back into the fighting again… I think it put things into perspective for me. That, and talking to some friends… ones I made in this world, and maybe one or two that came over from my old one. Don't tell Duo I said that; he'd never let me hear the end of it."

"Heero…" Murrue replied softly, "just where exactly are you going with this?"

Heero stood up and moved around the side of the table so he was standing next to her. "Where I'm going with this… is somewhere I really should've gone well before now. All I can really do now is try to make up for lost time… and show you just what you really mean to me."

Murrue's heart just about leapt up into her throat, pounding away like a jackhammer as Heero dropped to one knee and pulled a small black box out of his pocket. He then raised and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring Murrue had ever seen. Four small diamonds divided into two pairs were set in a silver band, while flowing down from those gems were intricate engravings of feathers covering the rest of the circle.

"Murrue Ramius," said Heero as he looked up at her with those dazzling Prussian blue eyes, "will you marry me?"

….

Start "Fields of Gold"

The words of proposal had barely left Heero's mouth before Murrue flew out of her chair and tackled him to the floor. Heero reflexively tightened his grip on the box and tucked it in close to his chest to keep the ring from getting damaged. Fortunately, that ring wound up in a very safe place; stuck between his torso and Murrue's bountiful bosom as she claimed his lips in a fierce kiss. The nervous tension that had been gripping Heero in the lead-up to this moment immediately vanished, and he surrendered to the fiery passion of the woman he loved.

He felt her tongue press against his lips, and Heero opened his mouth to allow it entry. Their a wet and sloppy dance played out, though what it might have lacked in elegance it more than made up for with enthusiasm. He gripped her tightly, knowing now beyond a shadow of a doubt what her answer was. Their mouths remained locked together until they were finally forced to part for air, yet it was only a quick breath before Murrue dived right back in for round two.

When she eventually relented and pulled back, Heero could only look up and marvel at her. Her face was flushed deeply, her breathing heavy, and her brown eyes absolutely radiant. Reasonably confident that she was not about to come down for a third round, Heero held up the box again, and this time Murrue took out the ring and slipped it on her finger.

He smiled as she admired the jewel. "That was one hell of an answer."

"I'm not finished yet," Murrue purred as she stood up and yanked him to his feet.

She then spun him around and shoved him onto the bed, and their clothes hit the floor a few seconds later.

End "Fields of Gold"

….

Start "Eternity – Memory of Lightwaves"

Heero was no stranger to working up a sweat. Combat, whether it be on the ground or in the cockpit of a mobile suit, tended to be a very strenuous affair. There was an activity he had found since coming to the Cosmic Era, though, that could easily make him match or exceed the level of perspiration that he might exude in battle; a night of passion with the woman he loved.

Heero was absolutely drenched in sweat as he finally collapsed on his back in bed, with Murrue just as soaked as she lay atop him. The thin white sheet covering the two of them clung to Murrue's body so tightly that it left very little to the imagination, sticking to every wonderful curve like a devoted servant. Both of them were gasping for breath like they'd just run a marathon, and given how many rounds they'd just gone through, the comparison was rather appropriate.

Murrue reached over to caress his cheek, and Heero savored the cool sensation of the ring on her finger brushing against his skin. Erica's friend had outdone themselves with the jewel, yet even the ring's beauty paled in comparison to the woman who wore it. Her long brown hair was now disheveled and wild, yet to Heero that just made Murrue even more stunning. He reached up to run his fingers through it, eliciting a fond smile from his beloved.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?" Murrue asked as she leaned down to kiss him, her hushed voice barely more than a whisper.

"I can probably guess," Heero admitted, "I'm sorry it took me so long. I… I've never been good at this sort of thing."

"I know," Murrue as her fingers moved up his face and into his hair, "and you don't have to apologize, Heero. Just knowing for certain now that you want what I've wanted all this time is more than enough for me."

Heero smirked. "Is it enough to get me out of forgetting to buy you an actual Christmas gift? I'll be honest; I was so caught up in making sure I got the ring from Erica without you noticing and working up the nerve to do this that holiday shopping slipped my mind."

"More than enough," Murrue reassured him, "It's the best holiday present I could ever ask for."

Heero let out a very relieved sigh. "Thank you."

Murrue surprised him with a sheepish smile. "To tell you the truth, I haven't really been able to do any shopping for the holiday myself. With my responsibilities, there just hasn't been a chance for it. It'd be awfully hypocritical of me to be upset over no gift when I don't have one for you."

"Your company's always been more than enough for me," Heero replied.

Murrue gave him a sultry smirk. "Well, I would hope that the fun we just had would count as a gift in it's own right."

Heero chuckled as he ran his hand down her back beneath the sheet. "It definitely does."

They lay together in contented silence for a few minutes before Murrue spoke again. "So… how do you want to break the news to the others?"

Heero shook his head. "No need for any announcement, I think. Just watch and see who notices the ring."

"I guess that's enough," Murrue conceded as she lowered her hand and danced her fingers along his chest, "We can hold off on anything major until we get the wedding plans sorted."

"Works for me," said Heero.

"Speaking of those plans," Murrue continued, "I know it's a bit premature to get into that sort of thing since we still have a war to get through. Even so, when the time does come, I don't want anything big. Just something for us, close friends and family, maybe any of the crew who wants in."

Heero nodded. "Something private sounds good. Maybe a small ceremony on the beach?"

"I'd like that," Murrue murmured as her eyelids fluttered and she rested her head on Heero's shoulder, "I think that would be wonderful."

Heero smiled. "Beach wedding it is, then."

Weariness was setting in for both now, and Heero could see Murrue struggling just to keep her eyes open. He was more than ready to call it a night, and so was Murrue, but she had just enough strength left in her to lean over and kiss his cheek.

"I love you, Heero," she whispered.

Heero reached over to brush a stray lock of brown hair away from her face. "I love you too, Murrue."

The two of them shut their eyes a few seconds later, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.

End "Eternity – Memory of Lightwaves"

….

December 25th, C.E. 73

When Stella's eyes fluttered open, she found that she was not alone in her infirmary bed. Her company wasn't human, either. A pair of stuffed animals were propped up. The one on her right was a penguin, its tuxedo-like feather pattern capped off with a little black bowtie on its neck. Meanwhile, the one on her left was a seagull, its mix of white and grey feathers noticeably clashing with its somewhat comically oversized yellow eyes.

"What's this?" she muttered as she sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Your presents," a familiar male voice answered.

Looking to her right, Stella saw Shinn in his usual seat beside the bed smiling at her. "Presents?"

"Remember what day it is?" Shinn gently prodded.

Stella's brow furrowed in thought before she looked around the infirmary. Strings of red and green lights hung from the ceiling, but she could not remember when they'd been set up. They were for something special, surely, but what?

Then there was a flicker of memory in her mind, an image bubbling to the surface of innocent days long gone. For a brief moment, she wasn't in the infirmary, but instead sitting in the backseat of a car. Two blurry figures were sitting up front, but Stella's attention wasn't on them. She had eyes for only one thing; all the houses they were driving past, each one decked out in lights like the ones now hanging in the infirmary.

Stella gasped. "Christmas!"

Shinn smiled. "That's right. Merry Christmas, Stella!"

Stella practically flung herself at Shinn and dragged him halfway onto the bed as she hugged him fiercely. "Merry Christmas, Shinn!"

She then released him and scooped up the stuffed animals, holding them tightly. "I love them."

"I hoped you would," said Shinn as he nervously scratched the back of his neck, "I, uhm, wasn't really sure what to get you."

"I'm keeping them forever," Stella vowed, snuggling up with both.

Shinn chuckled. "That's good. Are you going to name them?"

"I'll think of names later," she replied, "I just want to hug them now."

Shinn leaned back in his chair, still smiling as Stella cuddled with her two new friends.

….

"See?" said Lunamaria as she munched on some crackers, "I told you it wouldn't be so bad."

Sitting across the table from her, Wufei rolled his eyes before eventually chuckling in concession. "Alright, I'll admit it; this is nice."

In celebration of the holiday, the command staff at Gibraltar had decided to put on a party for personnel at the base. The area where 'Lacus' had been putting on her morale-boosting performances had been chosen for the occasion, with Durandal's imposter songstress trotting out onstage in a strapless 'Santa' dress that made no bones about cutting short and showing off her legs and shoulders. As she belted out holiday classics to the enthusiastic crowd, those who weren't quite as interested in the performance as their peers could avail themselves to several tables which had been set up near the back and were laden with snack platters.

Never really got into Christmas before, Wufei thought as he sampled some of the assorted meats, but I guess it's alright. Everyone seems to be having a good time, anyway.

"This a regular thing with ZAFT?" he asked as he gestured at the festivities around them.

Lunamaria nodded and smiled. "Yeah. We might live most of our lives in outer space, but a lot of us still celebrate holidays from Earth. Helps keep spirits up, you know?"

"I suppose so," said Wufei.

She looked at him curiously. "How about where you're from?"

"The colony that I was born and raised on had most of its population descended from Han Chinese," Wufei explained, "so most of the holidays we celebrated reflected that ancestry."

"That makes sense," Lunamaria replied, "The PLANTs are a lot more cosmopolitan. Our history classes back home taught us that the Coordinator boom swept through much of the world, so when there was mass immigration to the PLANTs you didn't have a single dominant ethnicity. That's still reflected in our population today, though some individual colonies have higher concentrations of certain ethnic groups than others. What holidays get celebrated sometimes depends on the colony you're from, but the general rule is to just celebrate what you're comfortable with. A ton of us came from North America and Europe, so Christmas tends to be a pretty popular one in most colonies. ZAFT always throws parties for it; the one we had back at the Academy last year was pretty fun."

"Did it include a live show?" Wufei asked with a smirk as he nodded at the stage.

Lunamaria laughed and shook her head. "No, this one's definitely a step up in the entertainment department!"

There was something about her laughter that struck a chord with Wufei. Freed, at least temporarily, from the worries that came with war, it sounded so light and joyful. It was beautiful.

He found a small smile creeping onto his face as he looked at her, something that Lunamaria picked up on quite quickly. "What's up?"

Wufei blinked, belatedly catching himself and hiding the gesture with a chuckle. "It's nothing."

Lunamaria was clearly skeptical. "Right…"

Turning his attention towards the crowd, Wufei caught sight of several familiar faces. The new pilots on the Minerva were interspersed with the revelers; he saw Manuel dancing with Larissa while Kriyya was playing cards with Alvise at another table. Talia and Arthur were at another table, seeming content to enjoy coffee together and watch the festivities unfold. Meanwhile, Athrun, Meyrin, Rey, Yolan and several other crewmembers were towards the front of the crowd taking in the performance onstage.

"You'd almost forget the enemy's just a few kilometers to the north…" Wufei muttered to himself as the current song came to an end.

"Let's not think about the enemy right now," said Lunamaria before standing up as the next song, a slower one, got underway, "In fact, I've got something much better in mind."

Wufei looked up at her. "Like what?"

She smiled as she held out her hand, and Wufei could have sworn he caught a hint of red in her face. "Like a dance?"

Wufei cocked an eyebrow; had he heard her right? "Huh?"

Lunamaria jerked a thumb towards the crowd. "You and me, dance to a song? You know, like fun people usually do?"

Wufei looked at her for a moment before smirking. "You think I'm fun? Seriously?"

"No, you're a pain in the ass," Lunamaria answered with a challenging grin, "but I think I can make you be fun, or at least have a bit of it… either that, or I'll die trying."

Wufei couldn't help but chuckle before accepting her hand and letting Lunamaria pull him to his feet. "Let's leave out the 'dying' bit, shall we?"

"I'd like that," Lunamaria chirped as she dragged him in the direction of the revelers.

She turned around to face him when they got to the edge of the crowd before suddenly fidgeting and wincing. "Oh, uhm… one thing you should know. I… I'm not very good at dancing."

Wufei was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the deep flush in her face convinced him to hold back. She'd gone out on a limb here, and the least he could do was respect her audacity and courage.

"That's alright," he said as he held out his hands, "I happen to be classically trained."

Lunamaria looked at him like he'd just spoken fluent French. "Say what?"

Wufei smiled and reached out to gently grab her. "Let me lead. You'll see."

As 'Lacus' got into the chorus of 'Merry Christmas, Darling', Wufei guided Lunamaria in a gently swaying dance. "Just relax."

"You weren't kidding," Lunamaria remarked as she smiled warmly at him, "I gotta ask, though; how the hell did you get trained in classical dancing?"

"It's a useful skill if you ever have to infiltrate high-society gatherings," Wufei explained, "I don't use it often, but I remember the basics."

"I'm glad you do," Lunamaria murmured softly as she moved ever-so-closer to him.

Before Wufei could react, she leaned forward and planted a soft and tender kiss on his lips. Her face was absolutely flushed red as she pulled back, yet she was still smiling, and Wufei found it to be almost enchanting.

"Merry Christmas, Wufei," she said.

Wufei blinked a few times as multiple responses came to the tip of his tongue and then vanished, and eventually he settled on a simple one. "Merry Christmas, Lunamaria."

As the two of them danced slowly and quietly at the back of the crowd, the warrior from another world found his surroundings fading into an indistinct blur. At that moment, it was just him and Lunamaria…

…and, Wufei realized, that was exactly how he wanted it.

….

While much of Gibraltar base was in a celebratory mood, Durandal unfortunately could not partake in the festivities. Sure, he had put in a brief appearance at the start of the party, standing on stage next to his songstress and giving a quick speech to the assembled troops, but after that he had immediately and quietly bowed out before returning to his office. It wasn't that he had anything against such holiday parties. Quite the contrary; he had quite a few fond memories born from such occasions, and he had been hoping to spend some time with Talia at this one. Unfortunately, his schedule had proven busier than he'd anticipated thanks to a combination of recent events and ongoing plans, so he was now back behind his desk reviewing the latest updates to a brewing operation.

Perhaps we should hold off a bit longer, he mused as he studied the data onscreen, seeing as we're acquiring more defectors with each passing day.

Four days had gone by since the initial four defecting Atlantic Federation destroyers and their respective crews showed up at Gibraltar, and that quartet had proven to be just the start. Now there were no less than three dozen former Atlantic Federation warships floating just offshore, a substantial escalation to say the least. The bulk of their number was made up of destroyers, just like the original four, but a handful of cruisers and even a Spengler-class carrier were now in the mix. While Durandal had certainly hoped his public global address concerning LOGOS would result in Atlantic Federation soldiers hopping over the fence to join ZAFT's crusade against the cabal, the current results had already eclipsed his wildest dreams. When combined with the additional warships that were being shipped down in sections from orbit and assembled in Gibraltar's drydocks, it meant that the already-considerable armada being hosted by the base had become even more powerful.

Would it be enough to take on the target in question, though? That, as with every military operation, was the million-dollar question. The answer always came down to an educated guess; one could never account for every possible variable in a battle, after all. The question had even more urgency behind it here, though, given that the target was one of the Atlantic Federation's most important surface installations… and it, like Gibraltar, was gaining greater strength with each passing day.

On the center of his screen was a satellite photograph of a large island situated between the North Atlantic and Arctic Oceans; Iceland. There, the Earth Alliance had established Heaven's Base, the military bloc's headquarters and the largest facility of its kind since the destruction of JOSH-A in the last war. With the devastation dealt to their naval bases in the British Isles courtesy of Terminal and the North American resistance, Heaven's Base had taken on even greater importance than before for the embattled LOGOS regime, all the more so now that the cabal had scattered and taken flight from their continental homeland.

Several aircraft known to belong to high-ranking LOGOS members were tracked here, Durandal thought, but Lord Djibril is not among them; SIB reports indicate that he and some of the other cabal leaders went to Orb. Whether or not they're still there now that Lady Cagalli has returned to power is something of a mystery. Very few flights have been tracked from that country's mass driver in recent days.

Durandal brushed Lord Djibril from his mind; while he most certainly would have preferred for the head of LOGOS to be at Heaven's Base so that the coming assault could eliminate him from the game, the man could always be hunted down later. The base was more important than Djibril himself, at least in the near-term. Taking or destroying it would deny the Atlantic Federation not only their most potent base remaining on Earth, but it would also rob them of a critical staging ground and maintenance hub for their Navy in that part of the world. Its loss would utterly cripple the already-severely depleted invasion force in continental Europe, and that in turn would no doubt win ZAFT some goodwill from the Eurasian Federation. The destruction of the considerable forces defending the base would be a bonus.

Taking out those forces would not be easy, though. Even with the fleet already assembled at Gibraltar and the warships being assembled in orbit for the drop operation that would occur simultaneously with the surface assault, the opposition waiting for them would be formidable. The defending fleet alone represented the strongest concentration of Earth Alliance naval power remaining on Earth, including every carrier in the Atlantic Fleet that wasn't currently covering convoys from North America to the British Isles. Scores of destroy flotillas and cruisers made up the fleet screen, and lurking beneath the waves would be submarines and squadrons of the Atlantic Federation's latest model underwater mobile suits. Satellite reconnaissance had also spotted minelayers operating all around the island, and a top priority for the assault planners was tracking their movements and mapping potential safe routes.

The most obvious of those potential safe routes was, of course, the one that went straight into the bay where the base's port and naval facilities were located. By necessity, that waterway would have to be kept clear by the defenders so that they could continue to receive supply ships, but by the same token it would be heavily defended. The image that Durandal was looking at had already been extensively marked by the SIB, with indicators pointing to so many surface and anti-aircraft artillery emplacements that it made identifying simple terrain features somewhat difficult.

The port itself represented a formidable obstacle. Taking it would be crucial for the landing operation and facilitating a steady stream of reinforcements, but doing so would involve every general's nightmare; urban warfare. The port facilities were so built up that they made up essentially a decent-sized city all on their own, complete with towers gleaming against the snowy terrain beyond. Granted, nothing in this city could be considered civilian in nature given its status as part of a major military base, which at least meant rules of engagement could be relaxed. Even with that leeway, though, taking or even destroying it would not be easy. It was essentially a maze of steel and concrete, and Durandal could only imagine how many nasty surprises the defenders would have tucked away inside.

Things did not get much better beyond the port. The terrain opened up for a bit, though the mountains looming beyond were no doubt hollowed out with defensive emplacements and bunkers. Even before the ridgeline, a vast network of trenches had been dug, giving even the most elaborate earthworks of World War One a run for their money. Unlike their distant ancestors from the Great War, though, these trenches were defended by far more than barbed wire, machinegun nests, snipers, and artillery. Satellite reconnaissance had already confirmed the presence of multiple Destroy units; the Atlantic Federation wasn't even trying to hide the lumbering titans. Interspersed with them and the battalions of conventional mobile suits were strange new units that the SIB were still struggling to identify. From the satellite photos they seemed to crawl across the ground almost like giant mechanical crabs, their core bodies appearing to be enlarged versions of the massive 'backpacks' found on the Destroy. SIB analysts had identified some of the same weapons equipped, but matters were complicated by the fact that these enigmatic new machines appeared split into at least two potential sub-types. A few of these crab-like units had also been spotted on positions flanking the bay; their arsenals would no doubt be lethal against the landing craft and their supporting mobile suits. One sub-type seemed to possess the same massive energy cannons as the base Destroy's backpack, while the other appeared to swap those out for what looked to Durandal like nothing less than battleship main battery guns.

LOGOS was always going to pull out all the stops when it came to defending this bastion, Durandal mused, but I must admit, even expecting such heavy resistance… this is daunting. Our forces have taken fortresses and bases deemed 'impregnable' in the past, yet I fully expect this one to be a crucible far beyond anything ZAFT has faced before. I expect even our new models to be severely tested here.

Beyond the trenchworks, strange new defensive units, and the no-doubt formidable fortifications situated in the ridgeline itself, what else awaited ZAFT's impending assault was something of a mystery. Extremely high quantities of conventional mobile suits were expected, of course, and Durandal had no doubt that a truly staggering amount of artillery was hidden away and ready to be unleashed the moment it was called for. Airfields were also clearly visible, scattered across the island and loaded with wide varieties of aircraft and accompanying mobile suits, so ZAFT could expect a fierce contest for the sky. However, the intelligence they had on Heaven's Base indicated that the bulk of its facilities were underground; even the built-up and sophisticated port was little more than icing atop a deep cake. No SIB spies had ever been able to infiltrate the base, so knowledge of the facility's true scope was limited to what could be gleaned for signals intercepts and satellite footage of vehicles disappearing beneath foothills and mountains, the later at least marking where entrances to the underground portion of the fortress was.

There was great cause for concern. Since even before the Second Bloody Valentine War had officially begun, the SIB had noted a marked uptick in traffic from the Atlantic Federation mainland to Heaven's Base. Supply ships and cargo jets had been going back and forth from North America to Iceland at increasingly rapid intervals, and while some had merely been using Heaven's Base as a transit point before continuing on to the British Isles, the bulk seemed to have the fortress as their ultimate destination. A massive buildup had clearly been in the works for some time, and a worry amongst both Durandal and members of the Defense Council was that much of it was taking place out of sight. The memory of the nasty surprise hidden away at JOSH-A during the last war was never far from the minds of ZAFT's leadership.

There we were saved by Heero Yuy of all people, Durandal thought, after he'd delivered the usual thrashing to our own forces, of course. This time, though, we can't count on the unholy power of his rifle to destroy an underground trap for us. Lady Cagalli was known to be traveling in his company, and her recent restoration to power in Orb implies that Heero Yuy and the rest of his compatriots are there now. Should a Cyclops bomb or another such trap await us in Iceland, we will be left to our own devices.

He tapped the desk while studying the screen, a rare gesture of anxiety on Durandal's part. The details of the assault were not up to him; he would leave them to the professionals. He had no doubt that the same concerns wracking his mind were present for the likes of Field Marshall Lindile Yam and Marine Admiral Ray Cosgrove, the Defense Council members in charge of overall planning for the ground and naval operations for the impending assault, respectively. They would likewise be keeping Grand Admiral Rainer Brinkmann up at night for the foreseeable future; while the Chairman of the Defense Council was primarily involved with heading up ZAFT's operations in outer space, he was in charge of organizing the ships needed to facilitate the orbital drop portion of the attack and protecting them from interference. While the bulk of the Atlantic Federation's space naval assets were concentrated on defending their lunar holdings, the L2 shipyards and L1 colonies and fleet support facilities, the enemy did still have far flung patrols and roving raiders just like ZAFT did, which meant a sizeable escort screen was required for the orbital drop force.

"The tide swings our way," Durandal murmured, "but we must beware, for the waves could still dash us against cruel stone if we grow careless."

The setback regarding dealing with Terminal notwithstanding, the war was by and large going in the direction that Durandal had anticipated. Indeed, the Atlantic Federation had seemed almost eager to help him at times; their wanton brutality throughout the conflict and especially during the invasion of Europe had worked wonders for alienating global public opinion and reinforcing Durandal's narrative. Between the ongoing rebellion in North America, the secession of the Eurasian Federation, and the near-complete passivity of the Republic of East Asia, the Earth Alliance was disintegrating before the eyes of the world. Their holdings in outer space remained solidified and formidable despite the massive losses they had suffered during the opening attack on the PLANTs, but the bloc's last major bastion on Earth itself was essentially just a massive fortified island in the frigid North Atlantic and Arctic Ocean. ZAFT was in the ascendancy, on course to exert overwhelming influence over the Earth Sphere by the time the war was over.

Yet ZAFT's prominent position was not completely secure yet. Terminal still ran about freely, and Durandal could only guess at what their next move might be. The North American resistance now vying for control over the Atlantic Federation homeland was an element Durandal's initial strategy for this war had not accounted for, and even now he and his advisers were working overtime to adjust their plans and compensate for this new variable. Moscow, now completely severed from the Earth Alliance, would seek to exert new influence once the last of the Atlantic Federation's invasion force had been driven out of continental Europe. Now Lady Cagalli was restored to power in the Orb Union and the island nation had seceded from the Earth Alliance, regaining its position as a beacon of principled opposition to both sides of the conflict.

No, Durandal reconsidered, that's not quite right. Terminal, the Eurasian Federation, the North American resistance, and now the Orb Union proper… it's wrong to consider them as separate entities when they are clearly cooperating now. Together, they represent something the world has not seen in a long time; a potential third superpower. A young one to be sure, but one with considerable potential for growth… and military power that punches well above their weight.

He shook his head after a moment, redoubling his focus on the image before him. "One thing at a time. Concentrate on eliminating the old power first. Then you can turn your full might upon the new one."

The old power would not fall with Heaven's Base; its final centers of power in outer space would still have to be dealt with. Still, taking Heaven's Base would signify a turning point in the war. The Atlantic Federation would be crushed as a surface power. Given that the Republic of East Asia had shown only tepid support at best for the war, the loss of the Earth Alliance's military headquarters on the surface could very well convince Beijing to sue for a separate peace. With the Alliance removed as a factor on Earth, ZAFT's surface forces could begin repositioning to counter the emerging third power on the planet while its space units could move to defeat the final Atlantic Federation strongpoints and fleets in orbit.

Durandal would not fool himself; events were still a good way out from reaching his envisioned endgame. Determination and vigilance would be required to see the war through to his ultimate goal. Nevertheless, real progress had been made, and his forces stood on the cusp of another great step forward.

One more great step towards mankind's destiny.

….

Far to the northwest and across half an ocean from Gibraltar, another man sat behind a desk in a fortress. Unlike Chairman Durandal, though, Colonel Nazara's office was underground and thus lacked any pleasant view of the outside world. Not that it bothered the leader of Phantom Pain; whenever he was in his office, it was purely for work. He would have preferred to be putting the latest modifications and upgrades installed on the Nosferatu through another test run, but that would have to wait until later.

No rest for the wicked, indeed, the masked officer mused as he studied the screen before him, I suppose that I could always put in a brief appearance at one of the holiday parties being thrown in this complex, but that would be counterproductive. They're meant to bolster troop morale, after all, and my very presence tends to accomplish the opposite effect.

Morale needed all the bolstering it could get. Between the floundering invasion of continental Europe, the absolute firestorm of rebellion that had engulfed North America, the destruction of yet another Atlantic Federation fleet in the Pacific Ocean, and the fallout from Durandal's recent worldwide address, the spirits of the grunts still loyal or trapped in service to the LOGOS puppet regime were at a low point. Patrolling aircraft, mobile suits and warships were circling Iceland with the dual mission of looking out for enemy contacts and potentially intercepting any would-be defectors. A whole host of new security measures had been hastily adopted across the Atlantic Federation military, and their sloppy implementation thus far had allowed a good many additional rats to flee the ship, so to speak.

"Not as great a loss as the windbags in High Command make it out to be," Nazara muttered, "More like deadweight casting itself aside."

The equipment and weapons they took with them were another matter, though. Personnel who couldn't stomach the necessary brutality of the crusade against the Coordinators were weak links that the Atlantic Federation could do without, but every gun, mobile suit, aircraft and warship that they stole through their defection added up. The cost was more keenly felt now thanks to the turmoil which had engulfed continental North America; so much of the Atlantic Federation's prized industrial base was either sabotaged or under the control of revolting workers. Maintaining forces on the surface was that much harder now, though Nazara could take solace in the fact that orbital production facilities remained unaffected.

Retaking our home territory will require replenishing losses through our shipyards and factories on the Moon and at L2, he thought, and then a massive orbital drop operation. Organizing that while still fighting ZAFT for supremacy in outer space will be a daunting task, though once the fruits of Project Reaper and Project Iron Legion ripen things should become a bit more manageable. It'd be awfully nice if Requiem could come online sooner rather than later…

While the ongoing efforts with the Requiem superweapon were an additional source of headaches at the moment, the lesser projects were at least entering their final stages. Switching over to another file, Nazara cracked a smile as he laid eyes upon the latest status update for the surface elements of Project Reaper and Project Iron Legion. Though they remained nestled deep within Heaven's Base, hidden away from the prying eyes of ZAFT and other adversaries, they were at long last ready for combat trials. No doubt Lord Djibril and the other surviving LOGOS leadership would prefer them enter the fray immediately, but Nazara had resolutely denied their every request. After all, why should he send such valuable assets out on offensive sortie across the Atlantic Ocean when the enemy would be so kind as to come to them soon enough?

Incoming intelligence reports had made plain what Nazara long suspected; ZAFT was gathering a powerful force at Gibraltar, the strongest that they had yet assembled on the surface for this war. Heaven's Base was the logical target, and Colonel Nazara had wasted no time in turning the already-impressively fortified Iceland facility into the mightiest citadel on Earth. The amount of conventional firepower massed alone rivaled anything fielded by the armies which had fought over Earth's surface in the last war. Hundreds of mobile suits, thousands of artillery pieces nestled in the rough terrain, practically every surviving warship in the region that could be mustered, enough sea mines that a man could string them all out and walk from Iceland to Scotland without getting his feet wet, and much, much more.

"I daresay we'd do the grand armies and fleets of the Second World War proud," Nazara noted with a chuckle, "and so much more advanced than what those generals and admirals of the old calendar could field. All that's missing at this point is nukes for a finishing touch. Ah, well. I suppose we can't have it all. Not yet, at least."

Switching over to another file, Nazara cracked a smile when he read the most recent update. "Nibelung is fully operational… and not a moment too soon. I'll have quite the welcome mat set out for you, Durandal."

He spent a few more minutes reviewing information on the latest defensive buildup efforts. When Nazara was satisfied that everything was in order on that front, he pulled up a separate file, one that had occupied his mind like a fantasy since it had first been unveiled. It had a very fitting name; Operation: Scourge. Set to launch after ZAFT's anticipated assault on Heaven's Base was repulsed, it was quite aptly named. Alongside the file, Nazara pulled up a map of the intended target.

"The City of Light remains besieged but unconquered," he remarked with a cruel grin, "but for their defiance, they will be punished. We will make of them an example that will spread dread throughout Europe and the world for generations to come! Liberté, égalité, fraternité, they say? Well, they should enjoy it while they can. Soon, they will wail 'le carnage!'"

….

December 26th, C.E. 73

The day was supposed to be centered on flight exercises, so Athrun had been quite surprised when Captain Gladys had suddenly recalled him and his fellow pilots to the Minerva and summoned them to the ship's briefing room. His hair was still wet from the hasty shower he'd taken after landing, and he was hardly the only pilot in a slightly disheveled state. As Athrun had put the Destiny through its paces, Rey was very much doing the same with the Legend, and that machine had posed challenges of its own. The taciturn blond man seemed a bit shaky on his feet, something Athrun could sympathize with.

They threw quite a few target drones at us today, he mused as he took a seat along with the other pilots, and they flew them much more aggressively than before. Guess the top brass really want us to get these new units down in a hurry.

While Athrun felt as though he was making progress in mastering the Destiny, he would readily admit to still having difficulty with the prototype. While its design emphasis on swift offensive fighting was right up Athrun's alley, the sheer speed that the machine could reach thanks to the Voiture Lumiere's 'Wings of Light' made the mobile suit nearly as dangerous to the pilot as it was to any enemy. Each time he engaged it, Athrun felt as though he was being slammed in the chest by a sumo wrestler. His tolerance for the extreme force of the acceleration was growing, but the Destiny was still very much a wild beast when it got going, and taming it was no small task.

I wish Heero was still here, he thought, I could use his advice on this. He seems to have no trouble with Wing Zero Albion's Voiture Lumiere system.

Then again, had Heero stuck around it would've made today's briefing rather awkward. It wasn't just the pilots stationed aboard the Minerva itself that were attending; all the mercenaries that had taken part in the failed Operation: Angel Down were present, and that very much included the Galm Team. While the pair of contract hellhounds had been assigned to a new vessel following the return to Gibraltar, Captain Gladys had made it clear to the crew that they would still be working alongside the famous dogs of war in future operations. How Heero might've reacted to fighting alongside the mercenaries that had defended GENESIS during the final battle of the last war was a very intriguing 'what if' scenario to Athrun. Come to think of it, it was rather awkward for Athrun himself when he recalled that Pixy had nearly killed him during the last war when Athrun had taken the shot meant for Cagalli with the Justice. Galm Two himself had made light of it when he'd encountered Athrun earlier, simply shrugging and saying 'that's war for you'. Athrun hadn't really known how to respond to that, but he could at least take some comfort in the fact that the mercenary appeared just as comfortable about working with him as he had been about almost killing him.

With Emilian's death during the ill-fated mission against Terminal, the empty slot in the Minerva's pilot roster was currently being filled by one of the other mercenaries, the blond-haired man called Jack. Apart from him being the guy who had first fought Duo and then Quatre on his own and survived, Athrun really didn't know much about him. His piloting skills were clearly top-notch, but the man himself was something of an enigma. He seemed relatively relaxed and easy to get along with outside of combat and flight exercises, though, if his interactions with Athrun and the other pilots were anything to go by. The man appeared to treat his mercenary work as if it was just a job to support his family with. If he had any beliefs or ideals beyond that, he hadn't voiced them to Athrun.

Then there was the fourth mercenary, the blonde Nordic beauty flying the Harkema Advanced Industries prototype. Like Galm Team, she had been assigned to a new vessel following the disastrous Operation: Angel Down and was only aboard the Minerva now for the briefing. Much like the Galm Team's leader, Frost Druid was a difficult person for Athrun to get a read on. Her piloting skills were the real deal, otherwise she would not have survived the fight with Mu La Flaga, but she betrayed little about herself as an individual. Her interactions with the pilots of the Minerva had been kept purely professional, and she carried herself in a very aloof manner. There was a casual confidence about her; she knew she was good and had no need to be a braggart about it.

I guess if they're going to be fighting with us in future battles, I really shouldn't complain, Athrun mused while studying them, especially since they're good enough to survive fights with Terminal. I just hope we don't actually have to fight Terminal again in the next operation. They're all the way back in Orb now, though, so I shouldn't have to worry about that. I hope…

When all the pilots were settled in, Captain Gladys turned to Arthur and nodded, prompting her XO to pick up a remote and point it at the screen along the back wall. A zoomed-out map of Earth's northern hemisphere appeared, centered upon Europe and the North Atlantic. Arthur clicked a button on the remote which caused the image to zoom in somewhat, and two blinking dots appeared; a blue one over Gibraltar, and a red one over Iceland.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Talia began, "I apologize for cutting today's flight exercises short; this was dropped on us quite suddenly. The top brass have apparently been planning this operation for quite some time, but they're only now letting us grunts in on it."

Heine raised a hand, and Talia nodded, permitting him to speak. "Based on the map's focus, would I be wrong in presuming that we're finally going after the Earth Alliance's surface headquarters?"

"No, you would be correct," Talia answered.

Pixy chuckled and glanced at his flight lead. "Well, that explains the 'Christmas presents' we received yesterday, buddy."

Cipher nodded but said nothing, prompting Galm Two to continue. "Looks like we'll get to test the new models pretty soon, then. Should be interesting."

Athrun raised an eyebrow. "New models? You two were still flying your GOUF units in today's exercises."

Pixy shrugged. "The techs said they needed time to check them over. Had to make sure nothing was damaged when they were brought down from orbit. We're officially making the switch over to them tonight and starting trials."

"Which reminds me," Talia cut in, "Galm Two, you received the machine transfer request, yes?"

Pixy turned to Captain Gladys and nodded. "I did. Our crew will have the GOUF Bombardier shipped over this evening. Your people will have to apply the new paintjob."

"Who's taking the Bombardier?" asked Heine.

"Lunamaria will be its assigned pilot," Talia replied.

Lunamaria raised a hand and looked about to protest, but Captain Gladys headed her off. "I know before you specified your wish to keep using your personal ZAKU unit, but this coming operation is going to be unlike any we've participated in thus far. The Bombardier takes the same level of firepower as the Gunner ZAKU Warrior and puts it in a more mobile package. You're an experienced pilot, and you'll be needed up front with the attacking mobile suits, not sitting back defending the Minerva. This will be your machine from here on out; your old one will be transferred off the ship tonight and stationed at Gibraltar for defense."

Lunamaria still seemed like she might argue but apparently thought better of it. "Understood, Captain."

Pixy then eyed the red-headed ace. "Make sure you paint over the logo. Only two pilots get to fly under the crimson hound."

Lunamaria rolled her eyes. "You think I'm some scum who'd were an insignia that I didn't earn? Piss off, merc."

Pixy chuckled as the look he gave her became an appreciative one. "Read you wrong, didn't I? Shoot as well as you talk, and maybe you'll become worthy of the crimson hound."

"I'm a soldier, not a gun-for-hire," Lunamaria quipped, "and that's not changing."

Talia cleared her throat, causing both soldier and merc to turn their focus back to her. "As soon as the transfer's facilitated, I expect you to immediately begin familiarizing yourself with your new unit, Lunamaria. We have some time before you'll have to use it in battle, but not much."

"I'll work myself up a crash course and cram it, Captain," Lunamaria vowed.

"If you're looking for someone to train with, I'm in," Wufei offered.

Lunamaria smiled. "I'd like that. Thanks."

"See that you get the most out of what time you have," Talia advised, "The defenses we'll be dealing with here are unforgiving."

She nodded at Arthur, who tapped a few keys on the remote. The image on the screen adjusted itself again, this time zooming in on Iceland until it eventually centered on what was clearly an artificial harbor, albeit a massive one. The image was then overlaid by so many red dots that they nearly blotted out everything else, covering water and land alike. It was more than enough to give Athrun pause.

These would just be the outer defenses, he thought, Atlantic Federation fleet units, local aircraft and mobile suit squadrons, emplacements surrounding and inside the port itself… all that will be a nightmare to get through. After that, things will probably get worse before they get better.

Arthur clicked a few more keys, and this time a veritable sea of blue dots appeared on the southern portion of the map out over the water. Leaning forward slightly, Athrun saw that the representations of ZAFT's assault force were divided into two distinct sub groups, each one targeting a side of the harbor. He could see the intent easily enough; the main urban heart of the port would be a meatgrinder, but the eastern and western peripheries were much more open and allowed for greater maneuverability. If ZAFT's assault forces could breach the outer defenses at those points quickly enough, they could establish a beachhead while vanguard units would continue advancing to cut off the port itself from inland reinforcements.

"Satellite recon has shown a constant stream of reinforcements arriving at Heaven's Base via air and sea," Talia continued, "Additionally, they've been bringing out hundreds of ground units from subterranean facilities. They know we're coming."

Larissa leaned forward, the blonde's light brown eyes narrowing. "How? Was there a leak on our side?"

"No need for one," Jack argued, "All they needed to do was look at the forces we've been gathering here lately. There are only a few targets in this part of the world worth this level of resource commitment."

"Yeah, but Heaven's Base isn't the only one," Manuel chimed in, gesturing at the screen with one of his muscular arms, "For all they know, we could be planning an invasion of the British Isles. That's a valuable strategic target; it's the staging point for the Atlantic Federation's invasion of the continent, for starters."

"It's a lot closer to Gibraltar," Alvise added, the sandy-blonde's brow furrowing as he studied the map, "The trip's shorter, so there'd be much less time for defenders to react once we launch."

"The most important targets in the British Isles were their naval bases," Heine countered, "and the biggest ones were destroyed by Terminal. There are other facilities, sure, but none of them are worth the resources we've gathered here."

Talia cleared her throat, cutting off any further debate. "There's been no leak. Heaven's Base is an obvious target for a very simple reason; it's where many members of the LOGOS cabal have fled to following the collapse of public order in the Atlantic Federation homeland. The SIB has tracked the private jets registered to known members of the organization to Iceland. More to the point, the base was constructed as a replacement for the JOSH-A fortress that was destroyed during the last war. In other words, it is the center of the Earth Alliance's surface military command structure. Taking it further destabilizes our enemy's forces on Earth and sends a signal to the world that the Alliance is no longer a major power on the surface."

"Its fall may also encourage further defections from Earth Alliance remnant forces elsewhere on the planet," Rey noted, "Nothing says the ship is sinking like losing your headquarters."

"As long as it helps end the war sooner," said Lunamaria.

Talia nodded. "That's the plan. However, the enemy's not going to make it easy for us. The operation will have three distinct phases. We'll be opening with a combined air and naval assault. Satellite recon has been tracking the paths of Atlantic Federation minelayers, so we've roughly worked out the safe travel lanes. Our underwater mobile suits will launch and move in ahead of the main fleet to sweep for and destroy any mines along the route of advance, and we're expecting heavy resistance from the latest model of Earth Alliance aquatic units. At the same time, aerial mobile suits will secure air superiority before attacking surface installations, with emphasis on targeting anti-air emplacements. This will be crucial in preparing the way for the second phase."

Talia then glanced at Arthur, who once again began tapping keys on the remote. The image on screen shifted, this time leaving Iceland and Earth entirely. The focus was now on a large collection of blue dots in orbit.

"A force of Laurasia-class frigates has been gathering in outer space and will take up geosynchronous orbit over the target when the time comes," Talia continued, "They will be dropping reinforcements behind the main port facility."

The Captain gestured to her XO, and the image on screen shifted again. The focus went back to Iceland, with the map centering on the urban sprawl of the port and the surrounding land. Two large arcing blue arrows appeared, tracing an arcing path from two landing points to the southeast and southwest of the port all the way up and around the facility, where they then flanked a large blue 'X' marker.

"For the second phase," Talia explained, "our advanced aerial units will work with the orbital drop force to cordon off the port and establish a perimeter. Once sufficient ZAFT forces have landed, we will then advance inland. Our goal is to breach the exterior defensive lines and secure the entrances to the underground portions of Heaven's Base. Once the surface is completely secure, subterranean operations will commence with the intent of securing the base and any potential intel or advanced technology it hides. Capturing members of LOGOS leadership is also a high priority. The operation will be considered a success with either an enemy route or surrender."

Athrun raised a hand, speaking when Talia gave him the go-ahead. "What's the role that the Minerva and her assigned pilots will play in the assault?"

"The Minerva herself will be advancing with the main fleet once underwater units have confirmed a clear path," Talia answered, "Our priority will be engaging Earth Alliance fleet combatants followed by shore bombardment. The mobile suits of this ship and the mercenaries working with us will be part of the advanced aerial element. You will be our spearhead, and your goal is to eliminate as many hostile air-combat mobile suits and anti-air emplacements as possible before the orbital drop commences."

"Do we have a detailed breakdown on enemy force composition?" asked Frost Druid.

"It's much lighter on detail than I'd like," Talia admitted, "Satellite recon can only reveal so much, especially since so much of Heaven's Base is underground. Still, we at least have an idea as to what you'll be facing in the initial assault."

Arthur clicked another key on the remote, and the image on screen changed again, this time showing photos of various units. Clasping his hands before him, Athrun studied the images intently as Talia went through them.

"The most common air unit we've seen so far is the Jet Windam," said Talia, "although we've also spotted older Dagger-L's in with the Jet Striker Pack sprinkled in the mix. Not much to say on those; we all have plenty of experience in dealing with them by now. Still, be ready to face a lot of them. There will be plenty of them on the ground as well, most likely equipped with the Doppelhorn Striker Pack. Those won't be priority targets for you, but if you can take some of them out both the landing forces and ships dedicated to shore bombardment certainly won't complain about it. Anti-air emplacements are a comprehensive mix of multi-launch missile systems, heavy flak, and what appears to be a new model multi-barrel rapid fire particle beam cannon. There are both stationary and mobile variants of these platforms, so mind the ground fire. The island is dotted with airfields, and we've spotted older-model F-7D Spearhead VTOL fighters among the mobile suits. Outdated to be sure in this day and age, probably retained as reserves, but massed missile barrages from squadrons of them can still be a threat, so watch out for them."

Cipher spoke up for the first time in the briefing, drawing all eyes towards him. "Given the importance of the target, we can expect it to be defended by more than mainline units."

Talia nodded. "You're not wrong. We have confirmed sightings of the Earth Alliance's newer heavy mobile armors. These include the Zamza-Zah, that quadrupedal unit which was part of the force sent to intercept us when we made our escape from Orb, and the Gells-Ghe, that insectoid mobile armor with the mobile suit torso and head on top which we first confronted at the Gulnahan Ravine. Although they're primarily ground units, their heavy-firepower can be repurposed for anti-air duties, so be wary. They'll be a significant hurdle for our ground forces to deal with; if an opportunity presents it, eliminate them."

"What about those units that the Atlantic Federation unleashed on the European cities?" Jack inquired, "Any confirmed sightings of Destroys?"

Talia let out a heavy exhalation. "Unfortunately, yes. At least six separate units have been spotted so far. Satellite recon even caught one being brought up from the underground base through a heavy-duty lift."

"In other words, there could be even more of those units underground," Athrun noted, "We'll have no way of knowing how many they actually have until the fighting's underway."

"Exactly," Talia somberly affirmed, "Recordings from the recent European engagements have at least given us a better idea as to how best we can take them down, but each individual unit is still incredibly dangerous. They're top priority targets for our ground forces, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind your assistance in eliminating them should you get the chance. However, your focus remains securing air superiority."

"Do we know if the enemy has any PMCs operating as part of their defenses?" asked Wufei.

Talia shook her head. "None that we've seen as of yet. The SIB's assessment is that, due to Heaven's Base's strategic importance, the Earth Alliance entrusts its defense only to their own units. However, it's always possible that PMCs are present and we just haven't found them. Be prepared for anything."

"You mentioned earlier that some of those experimental heavy mobile armors we fought before are now in production as part of the base's defenses," Rey chimed in, "Have any other new models been sighted?"

"A few, yes," Talia confirmed, "We're still trying to confirm details on them."

Arthur clicked the remote again, and a new image appeared on the screen. The machine Athrun saw vaguely reminded him of the Earth Alliance's old TS-MA2 Moebius mobile armors, though it was significantly bulked up in comparison to its predecessor. Painted with a grey base accompanied by orange trim on the front and rear while two yellow and black fins sprouted up from the upper back hull in a V-arrangement, the bulky central fuselage was flanked by two large and somewhat pincer-like protrusions, each one with powerful-looking thrusters jutting out from the rear. In the gaps between the main hull and the side protrusions were mounted two large beam cannons, while slung in boxy compartments beneath the central fuselage were a pair of heavy Gatling machine guns.

"Signals intercepts have revealed that this machine is designated as the TS-MB1B Euclid," Talia explained, "From what we've gathered, it's an evolution of the Earth Alliance's older mobile armor units. Dozens have been spotted in Iceland, and they appear to be a sort of 'intermediate-stage' mobile armor, something between the old Moebius units and the heavy experimental types we've encountered so far. Don't let the 'intermediate-stage' term fool you, though; these things are considerably bulkier than your typical mobile suit."

"Looks like a direct descendant of the Moebius line," commented Frost Druid, "I thought those units could only operate in outer space."

"For the Moebius units, that was the case," Talia replied, "but these have been sighted on Earth and in orbit. They appear only capable of very limited elevation in atmosphere. No more than a few meters or so over the surface if our estimates are accurate. Heaven's Base is the only region on Earth that we've seen them, so they're a very new development."

"What about in outer space?" asked Jack, "Are they more common up there?"

Talia nodded. "Fleet Intelligence Service reports multiple sightings from our scouts. They're trickling into orbital forces; for now, the sightings have been concentrated in the Lunar Perimeter and the battle groups defending the L2 shipyards."

"Do we have anything on their combat performance?" Heine inquired.

Talia shook her head. "No engagements with them have been reported as of yet. Those two large cannons are obviously the main armament, and the Gatlings slung beneath the fuselage make for a potent backup, but there could easily be other weapons or systems mounted on them that we're unaware of."

"Seems like a step backwards," Alvise chimed in, "The age of the mobile armor is long gone."

Talia folded her arms. "The Earth Alliance clearly feels otherwise, as recent developments have shown. The last war established the dominance of the mobile suit, and that trend has continued in this conflict, yet the enemy has made new strides in mobile armor development that we would be foolish to ignore. The prototypes we encountered in past engagements were quite dangerous, and we required our experienced pilots to deal with them. Our adversary would not have devoted resources to continued mobile armor development if they were not confident of worthwhile results."

Manuel shot an admonishing look at Alvise. "She's right. Don't go taking these things lightly."

Alvise shrugged. "Whatever you say."

"We could try working up simulations of them based on what armaments and flight characteristics are currently known," Larissa suggested, "It won't quite make up for our knowledge gap, and it'll hardly substitute for taking them on in the field, but we can at least start a training program and developing tactics."

Kriyya smiled energetically. "That's a great idea! We could even through the larger units in as well, since we have combat data on them. It'd be good to get practice against those units working in tandem with each other and conventional mobile suits."

Athrun nodded. "Whatever we're missing, we can always update the programs after we fight the real deal."

"Have any elite enemy pilots or squadrons been identified?" Wufei inquired.

"The SIB is still sorting through communications intercepts to figure out exactly who we're up against," Talia replied, "We can expect well-trained and experienced pilots given the importance of the target, but we don't have any specifics just yet."

Heine eyed Wufei. "Looking for another rival already? Going through withdrawal since you killed that Desperado merc and can't fight Heero in this battle?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Wufei quipped.

"Anyone worth your talents on the battlefield is also worth mine," Cipher interjected, his cool gaze sweeping over the Gundam pilot, "If we get to them first, they're ours."

Wufei locked eyes with Galm One for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough. If I find them first, don't interfere."

"Will you extend us the same courtesy?" asked Pixy.

"I already said as much," Wufei answered, "From one professional to another."

Athrun saw Lunamaria roll her eyes. "Figures…"

Pixy chuckled, though the look he gave Wufei struck Athrun as somewhat respectful. "Good man."

Talia was not amused. "I know you pilots have your pride, but we won't have time for you to get caught up in duels. Your objective is to secure air superiority quickly, and I expect you to focus on that."

"I'll fight as I always have, Captain," Wufei casually shot back, "That hasn't been a problem for you in the past."

"We'll do what we're paid for," Cipher added, "The Chairman writes our paychecks, so you can take any performance complaints up with him."

"If your thrill-seeking hampers the mission, I will," Talia promised with an icy expression.

Kriyya cleared her throat as she looked nervously back and forth between the Galm Team and Captain Gladys. "Uhm, on another note… Captain, will we be including the ships brought to Gibraltar by the recent Atlantic Federation defectors in our order of battle?"

Talia nodded. "We will. The current defectors, along with any others who arrive prior to mission launch, will be joining us."

An uneasy silence fell over the briefing room, and the assembled pilots traded uncomfortable looks. Athrun was among them; the whole thing struck him as a massive gamble, especially with regards to operational security.

Rey, of all people, was the first to give voice to what they were all thinking. "Captain, with all due respect… is that wise? Any one of them could tip off the enemy. For all we know, there could be sleeper agents among the defectors."

"The enemy already knows were coming," Talia reminded him, "We're not banking on the element of surprise here."

"We understand that, Captain," Lunamaria chimed in, "but that's not the only problem here. What if the defectors open fire on us once the battle starts?"

"The warships of the defectors will be at the front of the naval assault," Talia explained, "If they turn on us, they'll be caught between our fire and those of the defending forces. It would be suicide for them."

Athrun's head snapped back. "Wait a second… they'll be leading our fleet?"

Talia shook her head. "The defectors will be operating under ZAFT command. My understanding is that representatives of the Chairman and Defense Council have already made the necessary arrangements with the leadership council elected by the defectors."

Athrun's eyes narrowed. "I didn't mean that they'd be commanding the assault fleet, Captain. Even if they're at the front of the formation and could theoretically be caught in a crossfire if they turn on us, the enemy would most likely fire on ZAFT rather than the defectors."

"And probably welcome them back into their ranks," Larissa grumbled.

"Unlikely," Talia argued, "seeing as the Atlantic Federation has long demonstrated an unforgiving policy towards defectors. In throwing their lot in with us, these former officers and enlisted sailors knew there would be no turning back. As a precaution, the SIB is being thorough in evaluating the defectors and running background research to determine if any might still have ideological sympathies for their former masters. The Chairman has assured me that their investigations are comprehensive."

Wufei folded his arms. "Thorough screenings for every defector on those ships? Respectfully, Captain, that strikes me as unrealistic."

Talia was quiet for a moment. "It may be, but it's what the Chairman has ordered."

"Was it the Chairman that ordered the Atlantic Federation defectors be involved with the whole operation?" asked Lunamaria.

Talia slowly nodded. "It was. Officers, myself included, have raised appropriate concerns. The Chairman's orders and those of the Defense Council remain unchanged."

It comes straight from the top, then, Athrun thought, Chairman, what the hell are you thinking?

"With all due respect, Captain, this is a bad idea," Manuel protested.

"Our superiors believe otherwise," Talia replied in resignation, "and they've made their decision clear. The complaints that myself and others have lodged are on the record, as is the order to proceed regardless."

Larissa let out an exasperated breath. "Are there at least measures in place to minimize the risk of friendly fire?"

"Allied IFFs are being programmed and issued for the defectors as we speak," Talia answered, "Their mobile suits and warships are also undergoing some hasty repainting to make them visually distinctive from their Atlantic Federation counterparts. The worst dangers will be mitigated."

"Small favors," Alvise muttered.

"I just hope they're sincere about fighting alongside us," Kriyya murmured.

"If they're not, they won't live long enough to regret any insincerity," Frost Druid growled in arctic menace.

Athrun saw Pixy eye the Nordic mercenary warily. "If they're up front, then they've at least got incentive to perform well; they won't survive long otherwise. Let's give them the benefit of the doubt before shooting them up, Frost."

The blonde contract pilot shrugged, causing her long braid to shift and fall down the front of her jumpsuit. "I'll shoot who I'm paid to shoot. If the defectors turn on us, then that's just more targets to run up a tab on."

"Works for me," Cipher casually quipped.

Rey shook his head. "Mercenaries…"

"The defectors going against us during the battle will be dealt with if it happens," Talia declared, "Contingencies are in the works. In the meantime, we have something much more dangerous than them to contend with."

The image on the screen changed again and split into two sections, upper and lower. Both showed what appeared to be a large crab-like mobile armor. The central hull-section looked to Athrun like someone had taken the disk-like 'backpack' of the Destroy units that had been deployed in Europe and elongated the central section to make it more ovoid instead. Ten legs sprouted from the wide dark grey machines, four multi-jointed pairs on each side while the final pair was towards the front and ended in a set of long and menacing pincers. Around the rim of each machine were the same small Thermal Plasma Composite Cannons that the Destroy used, and their upper hulls had the same type of missile launchers divided into four sets, two forward and two aft. The real difference came in the form of their main armaments, with the unit on the top half of the split-screen mounting the same pair of twin-barrel high energy beam cannons as the Destroy itself, while the unit on the lower section of the screen instead possessed what appeared to be three shell-launching battleship-caliber guns.

"Signals intercepts refer to the upper unit as the GFAS-C1 Karkinos and to the lower unit as the GFAS-C2 Heikegani," Talia explained, "At least six of each type have been spotted so far in Iceland, and there could very well be more. This is the first and, so far, only region where we've seen them deployed in this conflict."

Manuel whistled. "Big sons of bitches."

"And armed to the teeth by the look of it," Larissa noted grimly, "Do we know if they're equipped with positron reflector shields like their mobile suit cousins?"

"That's not confirmed, but it's assumed to be likely," Talia replied, "At the very least, we know that the Destroy's backpack, which these units use as a main body, had one equipped. Since these new machines have the backpack as their central hull, it would be reasonable to guess that a positron reflector is equipped."

Alvise nodded at the screen. "What do we know about those pincers?"

"Not much," Talia admitted, "It's safe to presume that they're powerful as crushing weapons, and I wouldn't rule out the possibility of them being lined with energy emitters."

Kriyya grimaced. "They'll be nasty to deal with up close."

"Up close might be the best way to deal with them," Jack chimed in as he scratched his chin, "Based on their main guns, they look to be designed for long range bombardment."

"That's the SIB's assessment of them," Talia confirmed, "The upper unit appears built as a direct-fire support unit, while the lower one seems better suited to act as indirect-fire support."

"Any estimates on the gun caliber for the lower unit?" inquired Lunamaria.

"Based on the images available, our current assessment is 16-inch/50 caliber," Talia answered.

"Same as what the Americans used on the old Iowa-class," Jack noted.

Athrun felt a pit form in his stomach. "They're basically walking battleship turrets… they'll rip apart any ship in our fleet short of the Minerva."

"Even she could be at risk," Rey added, "Her armor's the best on any ZAFT warship apart from the Gondwana-class carrier, but concentrated 16-inch shellfire's no joke."

"And the rest of our surface fleet isn't armored against that," Heine chimed in, "These things should be priority targets for us alongside the enemy's air units and anti-air emplacements."

"Other squadrons are being tasked with taking them down," said Talia, "Your mission remains securing air superiority before the orbital drop commences."

"With all due respect, Captain, the orbital drop forces won't be able to accomplish much if the navy suffers heavy casualties," Cipher countered, "It's the navy that'll be supporting the landing forces and guarding the transports carrying reinforcements."

Pixy leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. "Captain, would you be open to a slight modification of our role?"

Talia eyed the Galm Team. "You have a proposal?"

Pixy glanced at Cipher, and the nod from his flight lead permitted him to proceed. "Your own pilots can remain dedicated to the air superiority mission, but let us mercs deal with the Karkinos and Heikegani units. Our new mobile suits would be good for taking them on."

"Their biggest vulnerability is probably close-up combat," Jack remarked, "That's my unit's specialty, and it's fast enough to close the distance and outmaneuver their weapons."

"Just be careful not to cut in and detonate the shell magazines on the Heikeganis," Frost Druid cautioned, "Your Raijin lacks Phase Shift Armor."

Jack smirked at her. "I didn't think you cared, Frost. I'm touched."

Pixy winked at her. "She's a big old softie underneath it all."

Galm Two then winced as Frost Druid sharply elbowed him, but his smile quickly came back. As for Frost Druid, she shot him an icy look worthy of her callsign before adjusting her braid and turning away with a huff.

Pixy grinned teasingly. "See?"

Jack chuckled. "Whatever you say."

All eyes turned back to Talia, who spent a moment in thoughtful silence. "Strictly speaking, our orders are to establish air superiority… but mercenaries do tend to get a bit more leeway in mission tasks. I'll forward your suggestion back up the chain. Given the threat posed by these new mobile armors, I imagine Field Marshall Yam and Marine Admiral Cosgrove will appreciate the need to neutralize them quickly. I'll let you know as soon as I get a response from them."

"Hopefully the enemy doesn't have too many of these things combat ready yet," Lunamaria muttered.

"It's impossible to say for sure," Rey noted, "We don't know how many might be underground."

"Speaking of underground, that's another concern," Heine chimed in, "Captain, given the likely extensive subterranean fortifications we'll be facing here, this battle will probably be a prolonged one. The enemy has almost certainly built-up massive supply stockpiles given the importance of the target. Are there plans in place should the situation devolve into a protracted siege?"

"Supply convoys and reinforcements are being prepared," Talia answered, "With the enemy's Atlantic Fleet having suffered considerable losses at the hands of Terminal and the Eurasian Federation, the bulk of their surviving warships in this part of the world have been dedicated to defending either Iceland or the North American east coast. In other words, our naval supply lines for this operation run through now largely-uncontested waters."

"And if the enemy decides to gamble by committing those east coast defense flotillas to the fight?" Wufei countered, "At this point, they may feel like they have nothing left to lose."

"Escorting forces have been set aside for the supply convoys," Talia replied, "They'll be able to keep any raiders at bay."

"How long are we prepared to siege this place?" asked Manuel, "This whole operation's already a huge draw on our surface resources."

"The costs will multiply with each passing day," Larissa added, "Can we sustain them indefinitely?"

"Big sieges aren't how ZAFT's supposed to fight its wars," Kriyya pointed out, "It's completely counter to our revised doctrines."

"Sometimes your 'doctrines' just don't cut it," Alvise pushed back, "and you have to fight the kind of battles you'd rather not."

"Those doctrines exist for a reason," Athrun argued, "ZAFT doesn't have the same level of resources at its disposal as it did two years ago. A siege against a base as heavily fortified as this one is incredibly draining."

"The longer we're tied down there, the more time the Atlantic Federation has to make moves elsewhere," Lunamaria added.

"There's nowhere else that they can make moves," Alvise replied, "Not on Earth, and their space forces have been cowering at Luna and L2 ever since the fleet they sent to L5 got slaughtered."

"The Atlantic Federation does still have surface assets," Heine interjected, "They have army and navy units in the British Isles, even if they are reduced. Their North American homeland might be in chaos, but they do still exert control over some regions, particularly up in Alaska. Granted the forces up there are practically glued to the Anchorage mass driver; they're determined to hold that at any cost. Even so, they could decide that the risk of moving previously defensive forces while we're occupied in Iceland is worthwhile."

"Don't discount their space forces, either," Rey added, "Yes, they've been on the defensive ever since their failed assault on L5, but they still have the numbers advantage. They could just as easily organize an orbital drop of their own to reinforce Iceland and attack us from behind once we settle into a siege."

"It all comes down to target value and appetite for losses," Wufei chimed in, folding his arms as he locked gazes with Talia, "Captain, just how high a potential cost is ZAFT prepared to pay for taking Heaven's Base? Has the Defense Council designated a threshold where casualties or time dedicated become unacceptable and we cut bait?"

Talia took a deep breath. "Chairman Durandal and the Defense Council have made their position clear; taking Heaven's Base will shatter what's left of the Atlantic Federation's cohesion on Earth. Not only will capturing it deliver a crushing blow to the enemy on the surface, but the potential for uncovering valuable intelligence and advanced enemy technology is high. Only the Chairman and the head of the Defense Council have the authority to order a retreat in this operation. Unless that order explicitly comes down from either Chairman Durandal or Grand Admiral Rainer Brinkmann, we are to press on with the assault."

In other words, we're stuck, Athrun thought grimly, even if it becomes an attritional meatgrinder. This doesn't feel right.

"So, it's do or die, then," Jack quipped.

"Brutal," Pixy muttered, "but that's war for you."

"At least we'll earn our pay," Frost quipped, "We'll run up a good butcher's bill before it's over."

"The Chairman and the Defense Council have high expectations for us," Talia continued, "Among the forces taking part in the operation, those of us in this room have some of the greatest combat experience, not to mention the latest mobile suits. We're the spearhead for a reason, ladies and gentlemen."

"No pressure," Rey deadpanned.

"Balance out your rest and training over the next few days," Talia ordered, "A final launch date for the operation has yet to be set, so be ready for departure at a moment's notice. That's all for now; dismissed."

The assembled pilots and officers began to disperse, but Athrun remained seated, his feelings on the impending operation torn. On the one hand, the necessity of it was clear; with the Earth Alliance reeling thanks to their recent losses in Europe along with the ongoing revolt in North America, losing their largest base on the planet along with its defending forces would be a massive defeat, perhaps even a decisive one. However, the enemy would obviously defend such a prize with every resource they could muster, and ZAFT would no doubt pay heavily for each kilometer taken.

I don't like how they're going about this, he thought, but it's a valid target, and an important one. Success here brings us one step closer to ending the threat posed by the Earth Alliance. I'll play my part this time. After that…

…well, I probably won't be sticking around much longer.

….

December 27th, C.E. 73

Powering down Nataku, Wufei wiped sweat from his brow. The last few simulations had gone with worst-case scenarios for enemy numbers at Heaven's Base, and they had been a considerable workout.

For all we know, he mused, even our current 'worst-case' projections could be undercounting the enemy's forces. That's the damn problem with taking on a base that has the bulk of its facilities underground; you have no way of knowing just how much is hidden beneath the surface.

Not for the first time, Wufei found himself wishing that Heero and the rest of his fellow Gundam pilots were still operating from the Minerva. They were more than used to battling it out against overwhelming numbers, and their machines combined with his could put one hell of a dent in the opposition. Wing Zero Albion's Twin Buster Rifle alone would be a game changer, especially when it came to taking on the base itself. After all, if capturing the base proved to be too costly, Heero could always bombard it into oblivion. Unfortunately, that would not be an option this time.

Popping open the cockpit, Wufei climbed out and sealed his Gundam. He then climbed down the ladder leading from the entry and maintenance catwalk to the hangar floor, and he saw Lunamaria do the same before heading his way. Her red-violet hair was matted with sweat, but she still set a brisk pace across the hangar towards him.

"You did well in that last round," Wufei complimented when she drew near.

Lunamaria shook her head. "Not well enough. The whole thing turned into a fighting retreat."

"A fighting retreat that you survived and provided crucial covering fire for," Wufei pushed back, "Under those circumstances, you really can't ask for much more than that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think I'd hear you saying something like that. Isn't retreating something an honorable warrior shouldn't do?"

Wufei ignored the mild taunt. "A warrior can recognize when then situation is untenable. As long as he or she has given the battle their best effort, there's no shame in withdrawal if the tide against them is too great."

Lunamaria cracked a weary smile. "Live to fight another day, huh?"

Wufei nodded. "Exactly."

Lunamaria looked around the hangar. Following her gaze, Wufei saw the other pilots of the Minerva leaving their machines. Most of them were congregating around Heine, and the blond FAITH operative made a friendly wave towards Wufei and Lunamaria.

"You want to join them?" Wufei asked, "They'll probably head for the mess hall after getting cleaned up."

Lunamaria shook her head, and an uneasy look came to her indigo eyes. "Actually… would you mind going topside with me? I was hoping we could chat privately."

Wufei eyed her for a moment. "Alright."

They purposely waited a few extra minutes before heading to the pilot locker room to freshen up, wanting to make sure that Heine and the others had cleared out first. Once they were clean, the two of them went up and out to the helicopter landing pad behind the battleship's bridge.

"Thanks for this," Lunamaria said as they took in the setting sun, "I've been thinking about a few things since yesterday's briefing, and… well, you're the only that I can really talk to about them."

Wufei was curious. "Not your sister or any of the others?"

"Meyrin's got enough to worry about without me throwing this on her," Lunamaria replied as she looked around nervously, "As for the others… I'd like to think I can trust Rey, maybe Heine, but I don't know."

"But you trust me even though you've known me for less time than Rey?" Wufei asked.

Lunamaria held his gaze. "I do. Besides… I think you're the only one who would really get it."

"Only one way to find out," said Wufei, eyeing her expectantly, "What's on your mind?"

Lunamaria was quiet for a minute or two, no doubt getting her thoughts in order. "This Iceland attack… I don't like it."

Wufei nodded in sympathy. "It's going to be rough. We'll be assaulting the enemy's strongest remaining position on the planet. Heavily fortified, potentially massive underground support networks, no way to know the full force composition we'll be up against; there's nothing about that to like. Even the best-case scenario for our attack will still likely involve heavy casualties."

"Right, but that's not what's bothering me," said Lunamaria, rubbing her forehead, "I mean, it does bother me, but it's not the big thing that's bothering me."

Wufei waited patiently for her to elaborate. "Wufei… we're winning the war, right?"

Wufei considered it. "Overall, I would say so. ZAFT's held its core territories on Earth and in space, gained new ground on the planet, and inflicted heavy battlefield defeats upon the Earth Alliance. The Chairman's government still seems to enjoy strong support, too. Compare that with the Earth Alliance; the Eurasian Federation's seceded, the Republic of East Asia is barely even playing a passive supporting role, and the Atlantic Federation is in the process of disintegrating. Going after Terminal didn't really work out for ZAFT, but the campaign against your main enemy has been successful. The Atlantic Federation still has powerful orbital forces, and it holds Luna and the L2 shipyards, but space isn't its home turf; Earth is, and they're falling apart on it now."

"That's what I thought," Lunamaria confirmed, "We're in a much stronger position than the Earth Alliance now, so wouldn't now be the time to start pushing for peace talks and offering terms? This war's supposed to be about defending our people, and we've done that. Launching a new offensive like this, though…"

"Goes beyond defending your people," Wufei finished for her, his brow furrowing, "You're right. I suppose the Chairman's argument would be along the lines of inflicting a defeat so decisive that the enemy will know for a fact that further conflict is pointless. That's my guess, anyway. The potential cost to ZAFT in going after a target like this, though, will be high."

"So, wouldn't it be better to offer terms first?" Lunamaria asked, "Give a chance to end this war before even more people have to die?"

Wufei nodded. "It would. Maybe terms were offered and rejected. You and I don't have friends in high places; we don't know what's going on at the top of ZAFT and the PLANTs. Although… given the brutal way that the Earth Alliance has carried out its campaigns, maybe it was thought that they'd refuse any terms offered, so it was pointless to try."

"I guess that's possible," Lunamaria conceded, "Still, invading Iceland and taking Heaven's Base… if it's really the last major enemy strongpoint on Earth, there are other ways to deal with it. We have naval superiority now; we could blockade the port, intercepting supply shipments. Our surface fleet on this side of the world's strong enough to pull that off, and it wouldn't be nearly as costly for us. Going for the base itself feels more like conquest."

"That's because it is," Wufei grimly replied as realization hit him, "The Chairman wants to do more than neutralize a threat or strengthen his hand in future negotiations; he wants to seize enemy territory and plant his flag. Why else devote so many resources to this operation? It's not just because they're needed to deal with the enemy forces. This is about taking and holding new ground."

Lunamaria was quiet for a few seconds. "Is there any strategic sense in us holding Iceland?"

Wufei mulled it over. "Its position is valuable. If ZAFT could take it and establish a fortified presence, it would give them another naval base from which to sortie out into the North Atlantic. Combine that with the Gibraltar base and the losses taken by the Atlantic Federation fleets, it could potentially give ZAFT domination over most of the Atlantic Ocean. The Eurasian Federation still has active fleet units in this part of the world, though, and ZAFT is legally still at war with them even if both sides have been concentrating their efforts against the Atlantic Federation. The Eurasians might have a thing or two to say about ZAFT seizing control of the sea on their front porch."

Lunamaria took a nervous breath. "You think we'd have to start fighting them?"

Wufei shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on whether the Chairman still views Moscow as a real enemy. He could always try to make a separate peace with the Eurasian Federation since they've seceded from the Earth Alliance."

"He hasn't, though," Lunamaria pointed out, "At least, not that I've heard. I feel like that sort of thing would be a big deal. The higher ups would announce that to us, you know?"

Wufei nodded. "They would, if only to avoid ZAFT troops mistakenly opening fire on Eurasian Federation units and reopening hostilities."

"Right, but they haven't," Lunamaria pressed, "So, that means we're still at war with the Eurasian Federation along with the Earth Alliance. It means we might still have to fight them even after the Atlantic Federation's been defeated, even though the Atlantic Federation is the main power trying to wipe us out and the Eurasian Federation is now at war with them. That doesn't make any sense. If we were just trying to defend our own people, wouldn't we want to make peace with the nations that don't want to kill us all?"

"One would think," Wufei deadpanned, "Chairman Durandal either thinks otherwise, or he's so focused on defeating the Atlantic Federation that he's neglecting all other concerns."

"I get that defeating the Atlantic Federation is our top priority," Lunamaria replied, "but a national leader is supposed to be able to multitask, right?"

"Or delegate authority at the very least," Wufei muttered, "If you and I are talking about a topic like this, then sure whoever the Chairman has managing PLANT diplomatic relations has thought of this as well."

Lunamaria let out an exasperated sigh. "Then what the hell are they doing? The Atlantic Federation's on the backfoot, their allies aren't even bothering to help, and one of them is now their enemy. If now isn't the time to get peace talks going, then when? I get if the Atlantic Federation's refusing to hear us; they're trying to exterminate us, so they probably don't want to talk. What about everyone else, though?"

"Maybe the Chairman wants ZAFT's victory to be seen as guaranteed," Wufei suggested, "Taking the enemy's last major stronghold on Earth would send that message."

"Maybe," Lunamaria conceded, "but… what if the war keeps going? What happens then?"

Wufei shook his head. "I'm not a fortune teller, Lunamaria. If you want someone who can see the future, you're asking the wrong guy."

Lunamaria took a deep breath. "I… I know. Look, I'm sorry for putting this all on you. I just… something just feels wrong, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Neither do I," Wufei confessed.

The two of them looked out at the vast fleet of assembled warships and the mobile suits on patrol overhead. Soon, all that military might would be setting sail for an operation that promised to be one of the most gruesome battles of the war so far. If it was necessary to bring the war one step closer to an end, then Wufei would play his part accordingly. However, if turned out to be a precursor to grander ambitions on Durandal's part…

…then Wufei would not remain in his service for much longer.

Preview for next time!

While the Archangel and her companion ships continue to guard Orb as Cagalli finalizes a new security pact with the Eurasian Federation, a massive fleet made up of both ZAFT warships and Earth Alliance defectors departs Gibraltar. Bound for the stronghold of Heaven's Base, their objective is to storm the Atlantic Federation fortress and inflict a decisive defeat upon the forces of LOGOS. Chairman Durandal and his subordinates expect a hard-fought victory, but little do they know that their fleet is sailing into a trap, one that even a Gundam pilot would struggle to survive. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Thirty-Two: Nightmare Unleashed.

For a Gundam pilot, the worst kind of foe awaits.

Author's Notes: So, there was a fourth song in this chapter; "Merry Christmas, Darling" was the piece that Meer was singing in the background as Lunamaria and Wufei danced. I personally prefer the version performed by The Carpenters. I'm a bit of a snob in that I loathe new Christmas music but have a certain fondness for the classics, and I will die on this hill.

Feels good to post one more chapter for this story before the end of the year. Things are actually looking up for me. To be honest, I've been stuck in a depressive funk the past few years. I can't say that I've completely shaken it off, but it's gotten a little bit better these past months. Here's raising an early glass to 2024. It's been a fun ride, readers, and I'll very much be continuing it with the new year.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Feel free to review, stay safe, and I'll see you all next time!