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?)

8. Chapter 8

Author's Notes: Hey everyone, how's it going? First of all, thanks a lot for putting up with the long wait time in between chapters! I was going to include the opening assault on L5 in this chapter, but I just have too much content, so I decided that I would post what I have now so that the following chapter can focus primarily on the first big battle of the war. Don't worry, guys; the next chapter will have plenty of explosions to make up for their absence in this one!

Only one song's showing up in this chapter; 'The Imperial March' from Star Wars.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or Gundam SEED, or any of the Metal Gear characters that show up here either. I'm doing this for fun, nothing more.

Enjoy!

Episode Eight: Ignition

October 20th, C.E. 73

"That concludes this session," said Chairman Durandal as he and the rest of the Supreme Council stood, "I'll be attending another Defense Council conference if any of you need to reach me. Please forward anything urgent to my secretary; I will review any and all items as soon as I'm able to."

His fellow Council members nodded before filing out the door. Durandal was right behind them, but just like the previous evening he soon split off from the group, accompanied by his aides and security detail. He'd only gotten about two hours of sleep earlier, but he found himself with a surprising amount of energy in spite of that.

I suppose I really do thrive in moments of crisis, he mused as he hurried towards the Defense Council's primary meeting room, Such a rush, to be on the razors edge between success and failure, maintaining the delicate balance needed to ensure my agenda continues forward… I daresay it's exhilarating.

He was at the conference room just a few minutes later. Striding inside the spacious chamber, he saw the twelve members of the Defense Council already seated, although they quickly stood and saluted as he approached. As was custom, they all wore purple and black versions of ZAFT's military uniform.

"Chairman Durandal," said Grand Admiral Rainer Brinkmann.

Durandal nodded in greeting. "Grand Admiral. I apologize for the delay; the Supreme Council session ran a little longer than I had anticipated."

A first generation Coordinator in his early forties, with onyx hair and steely blue eyes, he was both Chairman of the Defense Council and the head of ZAFT's space fleet. A no nonsense officer who had been elevated in no small part due to the incredible casualties the Coordinator fleets had suffered in the final battle of the war, he was a hardened veteran of most of ZAFT's high-profile space battles in the global conflict. While there were more senior officers that could've been tapped for such a prestigious position, Durandal had put his name forward as a nominee because he was apolitical, a very valuable trait in his eyes.

His rank reflected a change in ZAFT's military command structure, an evolution spurred by the need for a more comprehensive system that filled in gaps left by the previous model. ZAFT's original rank system, which it had used throughout the Bloody Valentine War, was quite sparse and informal. At the top of the pyramid had been the Defense Council, nearly all of whom had held the rank of Field Marshal. Other Field Marshals held command of frontline fleets and armies, while Commanders led subdivisions of those forces. Captains were the next down the line, overseeing individual warships, while a senior Captain might be given command over a squadron or task force. Below them were the Reds, the elite pilots, while all others were labled Greens, regardless of whether they were normal combat or support personnel. The entire structure had possessed a great degree of informality and flexibility, thanks in large part to ZAFT's origin as a militia, but it had also resulted in problems when different units of varying sizes and compositions started working in concert. The most common concern was the issue of overall command authority, which was most prominent when larger battle fleets had to coordinate missions. There was also the fact that Commanders didn't necessarily command only fleet task forces or army divisions; sometimes they would be in charge of units as small as an elite mobile suit flight team or a special operations squad. However, because of ZAFT's structure, those Commanders were technically of the same rank as those who led much larger forces, which could cause some degree of tension and confusion if proper arrangements weren't hammered out prior to an engagement.

The problems with the militia-style rank structure had actually never been properly addressed during the war, and Durandal found it to be rather ironic that measures had only been implemented to reconfigure and improve the command system after the Treaty of Junius Seven had been ratified and the military substantially reduced in size. Still, even with the force reductions it was still an organization of considerable size, so the reforms had remained necessary.

The rank of Grand Admiral could only be held by the officer who was head of both the Defense Council and the overall ZAFT armed forces, and that position currently belonged to Brinkmann. The rank of Field Marshal had been retired from the naval command structure, and it was now used strictly by the commanders of the surface armies. Majors were in charge of subdivisions of those armies, and their position was equivalent to that of a Commander from the space forces. Captains in charge of land battleships like the Petrie, Lesseps, and the newer Compton-class were equal to Captains in the space forces. The special rank of Marine Admiral had been created for the officers overseeing ZAFT's aquatic navy, while Marine Commanders led smaller divisions of the ocean-going fleet and coordinated actions between individual surface and sub-surface vessels, which remained under the supervision of traditional Captains. Full ZAFT space battle fleets were let by Admirals, while Commanders were in charge of smaller task forces. A flotilla composed of just a handful of ships would still be led by the Captain with the greatest seniority, which in this case would be officially referred to as the Line Captain. As for mobile suit squadrons, command would go to the pilot with the greatest seniority if they were units composed solely of Greens or Reds. In mixed units, Reds had command authority unless explicitly noted otherwise by the Captain of the vessel that they were flying from.

The new structure wasn't quite as comprehensive as that employed by the Earth Alliance, but it did provide a greater degree of order and hierarchy than the old militia model. At the same time, it still enjoyed some flexibility and made it easier for ad hoc and special units to be formed on a case by case basis. There were also provisions for temporary specialist ranks to be instated depending on the circumstances. The new model had met mostly with approval from ZAFT's officer class, who were becoming exasperated by the tensions between Commanders that had been so common under the militia system. The fact that Durandal had eliminated the position of Special Operations Squadrons from ZAFT's system had also been greeted as a positive development, although his replacing it with the new Fast Acting Integrate Tactical Headquarters, or FAITH unit, had drawn no small amount of criticism since it was answerable directly to the PLANT Supreme Council and its Chairman as opposed to the Defense Council and was therefore outside of the standard command hierarchy.

Actually, to think of FAITH as a single organized unit would be an inaccurate portrayal of the new organization. Rather, it was better considered to be a group of special individuals personally elevated by the Chairman and/or the Supreme Council and empowered to act as agents of the executive governing body within the armed forces. The group was still young, and most of its members were mobile suit pilots who had shown exemplary skill and conduct on the battlefield, but they weren't the sole representatives of the armed forces within this new branch. There was also a handful of ship Captains, as well as a few Majors from the surface forces and individual soldiers elevated from the Special Strike Forces operated by both the space fleets and the ground armies. The privileges and powers granted to members of FAITH were considerable; they had the authority to seize command of conventional military units as the situation warranted, and they had a great degree of independence both on and off the battlefield. The regular forces, including the Defense Council, were less than pleased by this new organization, but since FAITH members typically acted as individuals rather than organized groups like Zala's old Special Operations Squadrons and were therefore seen as having less overall power the officers of the conventional military were willing to tolerate them.

The Grand Admiral nodded at Durandal as the Supreme Council Chairman took his seat. "Well, now that we're all here, I see no reason to delay any further."

Brinkmann tapped several keys on the console built into the table, and a series of screens along the back wall of the chamber flickered to life. Some displayed maps of parts of the Earth Sphere or the Earth itself, while others were images of the gathering fleets.

"I know that only a few hours have passed since our last conference," said the Grand Admiral, "but events are moving at a faster pace than we had anticipated. Earth Alliance forces across the Earth Sphere are already moving. We expect them to be in position to engage us either by the time the deadline passes, shortly afterwards or possibly even a little bit before depending on numerous variables."

Durandal nodded. "I see. What's the most immediate threat?"

Brinkmann tapped a few more keys, causing all but one of the screens along the wall to dim. The sole exception actually got brighter to emphasize its importance. It was a map that included L5, the Moon, L1 and L2. Durandal's eyes were immediately drawn towards a particularly large group of blinking red dots that were positioned at the furthest edge of Earth Alliance space; they appeared to be ready to march upon ZAFT space at a moment's notice.

"This," said the Grand Admiral, "appears to be an Alliance strike force. Its position makes its intent clear; they intend to launch a direct assault on the homeland as soon as hostilities commence. This force has been growing considerably ever since we first noticed it; it appears that the Alliance had prepositioned several battle groups days or weeks earlier in order to allow for a rapid mobilization and rendezvous at a single point."

"How many vessels have they amassed?" asked Admiral Valter Girardelli, the blond haired and brown eyed head of ZAFT's Home Defense Force, a collective designation for every fleet currently stationed at L5.

"At last count," the Grand Admiral replied, "the total stands at a little less than a thousand. Based on the known positions of other Earth Alliance battle groups, we do not project a substantial increase in this figure prior to the passing of the deadline."

Durandal's eyes narrowed. "No small investment, but it still seems… inadequate."

"My thoughts exactly," said Admiral Anastasia Gorshkov, a raven haired and emerald eyed woman who was the head of ZAFT's Fleet Intelligence Service, "Repulsing such a force will be a hard fight, but far from an impossible one. Even with the Earth Alliance fleet being reduced by the treaty limitations, they should still be able to muster a larger force than this for an assault on our homeland. If they do not intend to substantially increase the numbers here then I can only conclude that a conventional head on assault comprises only part of their attack plan."

Brinkmann nodded. "I concur, and I can only think of one reason why the Earth forces would not commit more ships to this attack. Therefore, I am declaring that the Winter Contingency is now in effect."

Winter Contingency was just one of a multitude of code names for certain threats that the PLANTs might be faced with. Only the Supreme Council Chairman and/or the Defense Council Chairman had the authority to declare a Winter Contingency, and it meant only one thing.

The PLANTs were the confirmed or suspected target of a pending nuclear strike.

Durandal nodded. "A drastic step, but one that I am in agreement with. Admiral Delgado, is our countermeasure ready?"

Admiral Jaime Delgado, the tan-skinned, brown haired and brown eyed head of ZAFT's combined military R&D sections, nodded. "The Neutron Stampeder prototype is fully operational and mounted on the destroyer Johannes Bosscha. It can be deployed at a moment's notice."

"Perhaps," said Anastasia as she gave her colleague a pointed glare, "but from what I understand the device can only be used once since its emitters burn out after firing, correct? Do you really expect us to bet the safety of our homeland on this gimmick of yours, Delgado?"

Delgado scowled at her. "Smaller scale tests in the labs and designated field sites have shown 100% reliability. The device works; I'm willing to bet my life on it."

"But it is not just your life that you are gambling with," Anastasia shot back, "All of L5 will be placed on the betting table for this round."

"Unfortunately, our hands are tied," Durandal cut in, "We cannot hope for the same outside intervention that saved our colonies in the final battle of the last war. That's why this project and others like it were undertaken in the first place. The Neutron Stampeder was the only one of those that could work and stay within the limitations of the Treaty of Junius Seven. Therefore, we will have to place our trust in it."

Actually, the Neutron Stampeder device occupied something of a gray area as far as the treaty limitations were concerned. Per the treaty provisions, N-Jammers and N-Jammer Cancellers were explicitly banned. The Neutron Stampeder was neither of those devices, but it did draw upon the same technology as the N-Jammers. That was one of the reasons why this particular anti-nuke system had been kept under wraps; Durandal didn't want to get involved in an international legal battle over the new device. More to the point, since it looked quite likely that the Earth Alliance was getting ready to unleash nuclear Armageddon against the PLANTs, Durandal didn't exactly feel guilty about hiding a potential ace in the hole such as this.

"Chairman Durandal is right," said Brinkmann, "The device is out best and currently only defense against a nuclear strike. If it succeeds then our scientists will be vindicated. If it fails then we will all be too dead to complain about it."

"What a charming thought," Anastasia quipped dryly.

"The device will work," Delgado insisted, "The fleet just needs to hold the line until the enemy reveals their nukes."

"Against the force the Earth Alliance has assembled, I'm confident that our fleet will hold," Brinkmann replied, "Our men and women in uniform will be well aware of the stakes involved in this battle; they will fight to the death to defend their home."

"Then we must do all we can to make sure that the coming casualties will not be in vain," said Durandal, "That goes for more than just the defense of the homeland; I imagine outer space is not the only front that our adversary will be advancing on."

Brinkmann nodded. "Quite right. That's another reason why this session was called; the Earth Alliance surface forces are on the move."

The Grand Admiral tapped a series of keys on his console, and once again the screens on the far wall shifted. Several darkened while others brightened, and the brighter ones all showed maps of key points on Earth.

"We've received new reports from Carpentaria and Gibraltar," said Brinkmann, "Admiral Cosgrove, you may begin."

A rather tall and imposing man with short-cropped auburn hair and silver eyes, Marine Admiral Ray Cosgrove was the overseeing officer of all of ZAFT's oceanic naval forces. He gave a courteous nod to both the Grand Admiral and Chairman Durandal before commencing his report.

"The Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet has departed from the Pearl Harbor base," he began, "All indicators have them heading towards Carpentaria, although we cannot rule out the possibility of them taking action against the Orb Union as well."

"Picking fights with us and the Orb Union strikes me as careless, even for the Earth Alliance," said Anastasia, "Although, the Americans have always possessed a certain… belligerence."

"It would not be without precedent," Durandal reminded her, "The Atlantic Federation did invade the Orb Union during the last war, albeit not while they were simultaneously targeting Carpentaria."

"Have we made attempts to reach out to Orb?" asked Field Marshal Lindile Yam, the dark skinned and brown eyed commander of all of ZAFT's ground forces, "If they are truly under threat from the Earth Alliance, then surely they would be willing to make common cause with us."

"I'm afraid that's not likely to happen," said Field Marshal Bikram Singh, a tan skinned and grey eyed man who was the head of ZAFT's Surface Intelligence Bureau, or SIB, "Our sources have presented us with some rather troubling report; it would seem that the balance of power within the Orb government is shifting, and not in our favor."

Durandal raised an eyebrow. "Really? The Foreign Office had informed me of some potential tensions amongst the noble families and ministers, but I hadn't realized that it had gone so far."

Anastasia's eyes narrowed. "Is the Lion's daughter turning against us?"

Bikram shook his head. "No; our sources indicate that she remains committed to having her country serve as an impartial mediator in this time of crisis. The forces behind the shift appear to be concentrated primarily within the Seiran clan. While nothing is official, apparently the family elder and his heir favor a pro Earth Alliance policy. They are undermining the Chief Representative within the domestic administration and have made inroads into the Orb Union's foreign policy as well. It would seem that their efforts have garnered them enough influence to significantly alter the balance of power with the country."

"The balance of power should still be in the Chief Representative's favor," said Brinkmann, "It's an open secret that she's friends with Wing Zero's pilot and the renegades from the last war, after all."

"Yes," said Bikram, "but apparently when it comes to affairs of state, she holds them at arm's length."

Durandal nodded. "That makes sense. To publicly acknowledge them would cause a considerable stir, to put it mildly."

Anastasia chuckled. "Yes, especially considering the power that her friends displayed in the orbital battle recently."

"It would be nice if we could count on that power being thrown behind our efforts," said Brinkmann, "but we cannot. The renegades have proven to be unpredictable; we cannot count on them to favor one side or the other."

"I wouldn't write them off completely just yet," said Durandal, "The war hasn't even officially started yet, after all. Let's wait for events to take their course before completely designating them as friend or foe."

The Grand Admiral nodded. "Very well. That being said, I doubt we can expect them to come to the aid of our forces at Carpentaria."

"Indeed," said Admiral Cosgrove, "Speaking of Carpentaria, I doubt that the Americans will be the only ones bringing a fleet to bear on her."

"Quite right," said Field Marshal Bikram, "Our sources have confirmed that both the Republic of East Asia and the Eurasian Federation are preparing their Pacific fleets for action as well. As of right now it is impossible to say for sure if they intend to reinforce Atlantic Federation action in the South Pacific; they may simply be mobilizing them to act as a reserve for the Americans."

"What about the nations that comprise the Equatorial Union?" asked Field Marshal Yam, "Are they joining the Earth Alliance in mobilizing against us?"

Bikram shook his head. "No. All current intelligence indicates that they are refraining from mobilizing. They appear unwilling to be drawn into a confrontation."

Durandal smiled. "That's good to hear. I'd like to respect their neutrality for now. I'll keep open channels with them through the Foreign Office; if the Earth Alliance overplays its hand we may yet be able to bring them onto our side."

"They can't have too much to offer," scoffed Admiral Girardelli.

"Not in terms of brute force of arms," Bikram admitted, "However, their territory does contain crucial shipping lanes that transit between the southwestern Pacific and the Indian Ocean. If they joined our cause then they could block Earth Alliance access to those lanes."

"Sure they could," said Anastasia with a scowl, "Right up until the Americans start bombing their cities and slaughtering their civilians."

"Which would consume Earth Alliance resources that otherwise would be deployed to other fronts," said Admiral Cosgrove with a smile, "It probably wouldn't play well from a public relations standpoint either. We could come to their aid and play the role of the heroic cavalry. Their territory is much closer to Carpentaria than it is to any major Atlantic Federation staging area, after all."

"Perhaps," said Brinkmann, "but doing so could potentially weaken our forces on other fronts. If the enemy does strike at the Equatorial Union, or any other neutral nation for that matter, we should only intervene if we have that nation's guarantee of support in return for our efforts."

Durandal nodded. "I concur… although I hate to be so transactional about such matters."

"It might be easier to bring the Equatorial Union into our orbit if we use an intermediary," said Bikram, "The Oceania Union has given every indication of siding with the PLANTs in this matter, and they maintain friendly relations with the Equatorial Union."

"I can ask the Foreign Office to pursue that line," said Durandal, "We've received plenty of encouraging news from the Oceania Union on the diplomatic front in recent days, and I see no reason why they wouldn't be willing to represent our interests to the Equatorial Union."

"What can Oceania bring to the table in military terms?" asked Yam.

"A modest surface fleet, for starters," Bikram replied, "It would serve well as a reserve and it could also shore up Carpentaria's defenses. Their army is considerable, although not of the same measure as those fielded by the member states of the Earth Alliance."

"So they're at best an auxiliary force for us," said Anastasia, "I suppose that's better than nothing."

"Carpentaria isn't the only base that we need to defend," said Brinkmann, "Gibraltar is also at risk, perhaps more so than Carpentaria."

Admiral Cosgrove nodded. "If the Atlantic Federation has secured solid backing from the Eurasian Federation, then we can expect them to lay siege to Gibraltar within days of hostilities commencing. The defenses can hold for a time, but the enemy's advantage in numbers will eventually overwhelm them."

"Which is why we shall reinforce them in short order," said Brinkmann, "I've already drafted a proposal with my command staff. It will be forwarded to the rest of you after this meeting is concluded; you'll find it in the file labeled Operation: Spear Of Twilight."

Yam nodded. "I look forward to reading it."

"Speaking of reinforcing our positions," said Anastasia, "The African Community is just across the sea from Gibraltar. Can we expect any help from them?"

Bikram shook his head. "I wouldn't count on it. To put it mildly, the African Community is rather ambivalent with regards to both ZAFT and the Earth Alliance these days, thanks in no small part to their experience in the last war."

Durandal sighed. "I suppose that can't be helped. Their territory was basically a battleground for us and the Earth Alliance. After going through that, it's really no surprise that they would prefer to remain on the sidelines."

"Perhaps," said Field Marshal Yam, "but the Earth Alliance may not give them that option. Their territory includes the Suez Canal; that's prime real estate even in peacetime, and its value shoots through the roof in a global armed conflict."

Admiral Cosgrove nodded. "I agree. The Earth Alliance will march on them simply to secure the canal. It's possible that they could move further than that; taking North African territory would also give them another staging ground for a siege of Gibraltar, especially if they seized old Morocco."

"The armed forces of the African Community are negligible," said Brinkmann, "but if mobilized in advance they could at least delay Earth Alliance troop movements. Chairman Durandal, would it be possible to make the same diplomatic overtures to them that you are pursuing with the Equatorial Union?"

Durandal nodded and smiled. "Of course. Our ambassador in Cairo does enjoy a good personal friendship with the African Community's Chief of Foreign Affairs. I'll have the Foreign Office put out some feelers and see if we could potentially coax them into leaning our way."

"It would be nice if they agree to help us," said Admiral Cosgrove, "but we shouldn't bet the farm on it."

Brinkmann nodded. "Indeed. Until we know otherwise, we must assume that ZAFT will be going it alone in the coming conflict."

"What's our ultimate strategic aim?" asked Anastasia, "Our forces aren't as large as what we fielded in the last war. We'll be at a serious risk of stretching ourselves too thin if we go into this conflict with no clearly defined mission objective."

"I concur," said Durandal, "which is why I have two overall objectives that I wish for our armed forces to pursue. The first is to simply maintain the defense of the homeland and our bases on Earth. The Earth Alliance will be the aggressor in this war; us merely holding our ground against them and denying them any significant advances will be a victory right there. Our enemy will lose support among their domestic populations if the conflict drags on for too long."

"That could very well apply to us if we're not careful," cautioned Admiral Girardelli.

Durandal shook his head. "Our people understand that we're fighting to protect both our homeland and our independence from those who would either slaughter us or turn us into a client state to be exploited and suppressed. Given what is at stake, I believe that they will be willing to endure a period of hardship in order to secure our future."

"I hope you're right, Chairman," said Brinkmann, "What is the second objective that you want our forces to pursue?"

Durandal smiled. "To bring about a more stable world. It is abundantly clear that the provisions of the Treaty of Junius Seven failed to adequately address the root causes of conflict between us and the Earth Alliance. It is not enough for us to simply defend our homeland in the coming fight; we must engage proactively to alter the geopolitical situation and make sure that this conflict ends on a note that not only favors our continued independence and survival, but will also dramatically reduce the chances of a global conflict such as this from occurring again."

Anastasia's eyes narrowed. "With all due respect, Chairman Durandal, that's a pretty tall order."

"She's right," said Field Marshal Bikram, "As a military, ZAFT's mission is first and foremost to defend our people. We're not out to change the world, only to defend our portion of it."

"I realize that," Durandal replied, "but if we conduct this as just a purely defensive war then I fear that we will only be prolonging the cycle that we now find ourselves in. If we are to truly secure a future for our people then we must look beyond simply protecting our homeland in military terms."

Admiral Cosgrove chuckled. "ZAFT's a purely military body; thinking outside of military terms isn't what we're meant for."

"Cosgrove is right," said Brinkmann, "I'm afraid for your second objective you'll have to work more with the Supreme Council than with us, Chairman."

Durandal nodded. "Well, I'm sure that both bodies will be able to coordinate effectively to pursue our objectives."

"Is there anything else that requires discussion at this time?" asked Anastasia.

Brinkmann shook his head. "No, unless Chairman Durandal has anything to add."

Durandal shook his head as well. "Not at the moment. I'm sure the rest of you have urgent business to attend to at your respective commands. I'll let you get to it."

Brinkmann nodded and stood up, with everyone else joining him. "Meeting adjourned, then. Keep all communication lines open; we made need to reconvene again soon."

Durandal waited for the others to file out before leaving the room. His faithful aides were waiting patiently for him in the hallway, and as he stepped outside they fell right in step with him.

"Chairman," said Rachael, a platinum-blonde woman in her mid twenties, "we received an update about five minutes ago; Athrun Zala has arrived at ZAFT HQ."

Durandal nodded and smiled. "Right on schedule. Is he still in the lobby?"

"For the moment," she replied, "His guide is still with him."

"Excellent," said Durandal, "In ten minutes have him brought to the waiting room of my office. That should give me enough time to prepare."

His aide nodded. "Understood, Chairman."

One meeting is over, he mused as he continued down the corridor, and another shall soon begin. I wonder which will carry greater significance? Let's find out…

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smart phone. The number he desired was on speed dial, and he rang it up immediately.

"Meer," he said with a smirk, "You're up."

….

Imposing but not grandiose, efficient and yet graceful, the headquarters of the Coordinator military was a world apart from government buildings found on the surface. While important structures down on Earth often had a certain traditional sense to them, especially if they were involved in affairs of state, buildings in the PLANTs typically embraced modernity in bold fashion. It was an architectural statement to all of the Cosmic Era of the Coordinator peoples' belief in the promise of progress and science, that they refused to be bound to the past and had the will to not only bravely confront the oncoming future but welcome it with open arms.

At least, that's what Athrun faintly recalled hearing in a civics class back in what felt like over a lifetime ago. His father had lacked the patience for indulging in architectural or artistic studies of any kind; his typical first reaction upon looking at an important building had been to point out any flaws it might posses in its defenses should it come under siege. His mother had taken a more relaxed approach, but before Athrun could really understand what she had truly felt about such things she had been cruelly taken from him by the fire of the Bloody Valentine Tragedy.

Now here he was, lacking both mother and father and therefore having only his own opinions to rely on for casting judgment upon the structure he was currently following his guide through. His feelings were mixed, to put it mildly. On the one hand, the last time he'd been in this building had been to see his father, and days like were seldom happy occasions. However, it also presented a sort of familiarity to him, one that provided no small sense of comfort to him as he tried to find his way through what were rapidly becoming chaotic and turbulent times.

He had arrived at Aprilius One the prior evening. Much to his relief, he hadn't been arrested the moment that he'd stepped off the shuttle. A PLANT official had met him at the docks, but rather than have him cuffed and hauled off by a security team they'd simply informed him that his arrival had been expected and that a hotel room had already been prepared for him. Tired from the shuttle flight and not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Athrun had readily accepted the offer. Before leaving for the night the government official had given Athrun a cell phone and instructions to keep it on him at all times. The former ZAFT Red was sure that it was set up to allow his hosts to track his location, but he didn't mind; he wasn't here to sneak around, after all.

He hadn't been sure what he would do when he had woken up in the morning, but that question had been answered for him almost as soon as he'd finished cleaning up; the official from the day before had called him and asked him to meet him in the hotel lobby. Athrun had followed the instructions and had been promptly led to a high-end black government sedan, which had proceeded straight to ZAFT HQ. The drive there had given Athrun the chance to take in the landscape of a colony that was both familiar and yet alien to him. He'd lived in the capital long enough to know its layout inside and out, and yet he'd been away long enough that it now felt as though he was visiting a foreign country. In a way, he was; his official citizenship had been registered in Orb under his alias following the Bloody Valentine War, and he imagined that his old PLANT citizenship remained revoked following the events of that conflict.

A Coordinator who feels like a stranger in the Coordinator homeland, he mused as he followed his guide through the corridors of ZAFT HQ, I wasn't sure what to expect when I returned here, but… well, it wasn't this.

A lingering sense of guilt had continued to nag at the back of his mind no matter how hard he tried to shove it aside. Not for the first time his thoughts turned back to Cagalli, and he wondered how she was doing. Leaving her to come here wasn't exactly something that he was proud of, but it was something he believed he had to do.

Well, he mostly believed it, anyway.

Athrun shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Are we almost there?"

His guide nodded. "It's just at the end of this hall."

Of course it is, he mentally chided himself, I should know that better than anyone. I did go this same way to see father more than once, after all.

Just a few moments later they were walking into what Athrun knew to be the waiting room for the Supreme Chairman's visitors. It was as comfortable in appearance as he remembered it to be. At the far end he saw a desk, and sitting behind it was a young raven-haired, blue eyed woman. The nametag sitting on the front of her desk labeled her as 'Brittany Campbell'.

The secretary nodded and smiled as Athrun entered the room. "Ah, Athrun Zala! Welcome!"

Athrun nodded as he walked up to her. "Hey. Is the Chairman ready to see me?"

"He will be in just a few minutes," Brittany replied, "Please, take a seat. I'll let you know when you can go in."

"All right," he said.

He wandered over towards one of the chairs along the wall and settled in. Looking around, he saw that his guide had quietly slipped out while he'd been speaking with the secretary. While it was nice to be rid of his minder, it didn't do much to lessen his sense of apprehension about this whole meeting. As much as he'd tried to banish them from his mind, Heero's words regarding Chairman Durandal from the conversation he'd had on the beach with him and Kira kept bubbling up to the surface.

"Even if he agrees to let you help him, I doubt that it'll be out of simple gratitude. He'll want something in return. When you're in the PLANTs, you will be vulnerable; you won't have the leverage you'd need to negotiate with him."

He couldn't deny that Heero's point there was quite valid. The only reason he wasn't locked away or being thrown out an airlock right now was because the Chairman had decided Athrun had something to offer that was worth enough to avoid enforcing the warrant that had been issued against him by ZAFT. Athrun didn't think that the Chairman would have him imprisoned or executed if the two of them couldn't come to an arrangement of sorts, but he had no way to guarantee that. If he got into trouble here, the cavalry wouldn't come charging over the nearest hill to save him; Heero and the rest of Terminal would definitely have their hands full with the way events were so rapidly escalating. Athrun knew that Terminal had contacts in the PLANTs thanks to Eric Bristow's network, but they wouldn't expose themselves to get him out of a jam. He was on his own, and this wasn't the battlefield. This was a political arena, and it was terrain that the Chairman definitely had the advantage in.

What sort of role would the Chairman want him to play? Would he make Athrun an advisor or use him in a public relations stunt? Would he simply reinstate him and give him a ZAKU and a ship to fly from? Athrun didn't know what to expect, and that was in large part because he didn't actually know exactly what he was hoping to get out of this himself.

He was still pondering what the coming meeting would hold when the door to the waiting room slid open. That was quickly followed by a very familiar voice.

"Haro! Athrun!"

His head jerked towards the entrance, and his face became as pale as a sheet of ice.

Impossible!

Sure enough, what had come bouncing through the doorway was a spherical Haro-bot, exactly like the ones he'd once made for Lacus. This one was red, and while Athrun couldn't recall if he'd made a model in that particular color or not, it wouldn't have surprised him if he had; he'd created so many of them back in the day that he'd lost count.

As stunning as it was to see what could possibly be one of his creations bouncing around ZAFT HQ, what came behind it was an even greater shock to his system. "Athrun!"

It can't be, he thought as a woman came into the room, She can't be here!

Long and flowing pink hair, cerulean eyes, angelically pale skin, a golden pendant… it couldn't be anyone else.

Lacus Clyne.

She was beaming as she rushed over to him, and before he could react she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Athrun! I'm so glad you're here! I've been waiting so long for you to arrive!"

Athrun blinked. She'd been waiting for him here?

As he shakily got to his feet and put her at arm's length, he realized that something wasn't right. Sure, superficially, it looked like Lacus was standing in front of him, but upon closer inspection he noticed several details that didn't add up. For starters, the pendant in her hair was a five-pointed star, and he'd never seen Lacus wear one like it. Next was her outfit. The color scheme was vintage Lacus; a mixture of white purple, with some gold trim for good measure. However, the style was anything but that of the Songstress of Peace. Lacus's gowns had always emphasized grace, elegance, and purity. While they might've shown some skin on rare occasions, it was never in a provocative manner. What the girl in front of him wore actually appeared to be something more akin to a white and purple one-piece with a long purple skirt attached. There was a considerable gap where the one-piece met the skirt at her thighs, giving a rather tantalizing view of her hips, and it opened up further down as well to show off her legs. At the same time, the upper-body portion hugged her skin much closer than anything Athrun had ever seen Lacus wear before, and it gave plenty of emphasis to a bosom that he suspected might actually be bigger than that of his ex-fiancé.

No mistaking it, he thought as he pieced together the evidence before him, It's not her! So who is she? What's going on here?

"Athrun?" said the girl, blinking in confusion, "What is it? What's wrong? Aren't you happy to see me?"

Athrun's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, leaning forward and taking his hand, "You know who I am! What kind of question is that?"

Athrun was spared answering her by the sound of the door behind the secretary's desk opening. A moment later Chairman Durandal walked through, nodding and smiling as he approached.

"Ah," he said, "I see you two have already met. Forgive me, Athrun; this was a bit sooner than I'd intended."

"What are you talking about?" he asked before pointing at the girl, "Who is she?"

"Good questions," Durandal replied, "and ones that are best answered in private. Why don't the two of you join me in my office? We have a great deal to discuss, and I'm afraid time is not on our side."

Not seeing any alternative, Athrun nodded. He was here for a meeting after all, although he hadn't counted on having someone like the girl who was holding his hand coming along for the ride. Slipping free of the girl's grip, he followed the Chairman towards his office, while the Lacus impersonator fell in behind him.

"Care for some tea?" Durandal asked as the door shut behind them, "Or perhaps something a little stronger? I keep a bottle of bourbon and some glasses in the desk. I'm told this particular decanter is quite good."

Athrun shook his head. "No, thank you."

"I'm fine, thanks," said the girl next to him.

Durandal nodded. "Very well, then. Please, have a seat."

The two of them did as they were told while Durandal settled in behind the desk. Athrun saw him glance at something on the desktop monitor for a moment before he turned to them.

"First of all," he said, "I'd like to thank you for coming all the way out here to meet with me, Athrun. I admire the courage it took you to return to L5, especially given the circumstances under which you departed the homeland."

"Well, you didn't have me arrested back on the Minerva," Athrun replied, "I felt that you might extend me the same courtesy if I returned to the PLANTs."

Durandal smiled. "Indeed. In fact, you'll be happy to know that I've had the arrest warrant for you completely rescinded. You are no longer considered a traitor or an enemy to ZAFT and the PLANTs. You're free to come and go as you please."

Athrun bowed his head. "Thank you, Chairman."

"Please," said Durandal, "it was the least that I could do in exchange for the aid that you provided us during the events following the attack on Armory One. You performed exceptionally well; civilian life clearly hasn't dulled your piloting skills."

"The ZAKU Warrior is an easy machine to use," said Athrun, "ZAFT's done a lot to simplify mobile suit controls since the last war."

Durandal nodded. "I'm sure our weapons developers would appreciate the approval of a seasoned veteran like you regarding their innovations. It is a pity that you only got to experience their advancements under less than ideal circumstances."

Athrun's eyes narrowed. "I'm assuming that my experience and piloting abilities are part of why you agreed to meet with me today, right?"

Durandal chuckled. "Straight to the point, I see. Rather refreshing, all things considered. Yes, you're quite right. You have skills that would serve my cause quite well, along with a certain name recognition and reputation. You're obviously well aware of that, and you know that I would indeed seek to make use of your talents, which raises a question; why did you decide to come here with that knowledge in mind?"

Athrun sighed. "The world's marching to war, and nothing I do down on Earth will make a difference about that. I thought that if I came here I'd be able to do something meaningful."

Durandal nodded. "An admirable sentiment. However, your position down on Earth wasn't exactly negligible. After all, you were the bodyguard of Chief Representative Athha, and a close friend of hers. Surely you would have her ear and cooperation in times like this, and doubtlessly she would seek to employ your talents in the service of the Orb Union. With all that in mind, why did you abandon your place with her and come here?"

Athrun shook his head. "I was Cagalli's bodyguard, and leaving her was difficult, but I felt that it was something I had to do. I believed that if I returned to the PLANTs and ZAFT I could find a way to help her in a manner that I couldn't do in Orb. Cagalli will try to keep Orb neutral in the coming conflict, but I doubt the Earth Alliance will make that easy for her. Since ZAFT will likely be fighting the Alliance soon, I felt that if I were a part of that effort I could not only defend innocent people in the PLANTs but help Cagalli and Orb as well."

Durandal smiled. "You wish to be at the center of the action, and preferably in the cockpit of a mobile suit, yes?"

"That's right," Athrun replied, "The front line's where I can do the most good. Originally I came here because I wanted to try to find a way to stop a new war from happening at all, but with the way things are going I don't think that's possible anymore. At this point I believe that the best way that I can make a difference is from the cockpit of a mobile suit... and by flying with ZAFT."

Durandal nodded. "Well, I'm certainly inclined to let you rejoin our ranks, and even reinstate you to your former position. Your name carries weight, and if our pilots knew that you were fighting alongside them I know that it would bolster morale. That being said, I'm afraid it's not as simple as allowing you to put on your old uniform and giving you a machine."

Athrun's eyes narrowed. "So, what do I have to do to convince you that I'm on your side?"

"Nothing that you would find objectionable, I assure you," said Durandal, "Think of it more as providing a token of good faith."

"What would that involve?" asked Athrun.

Durandal sighed. "I'll be frank; a little while ago I was partaking in a conference with the Defense Council. The Earth Alliance has amassed a fleet just beyond the Zero Line. Either at the moment the Atlantic Federation's deadline passes or possibly before that we expect the fleet to cross the demarcation and advance on L5. Time is of the essence, and we need every skilled pilot available, so I would test you by fire. Fly with the Home Fleet and defend the PLANTs against the Alliance's opening assault. If their attack is repelled and you survive, I shall not only fully reinstate you, but also give you a position shared only by a handful of exceptional individuals."

Athrun nodded. "What would my position in the Home Fleet be?"

"You would fly as a ZAFT Green from the carrier Gondwana," said Durandal, "You'll be given a ZAKU Phantom and the freedom to requisition the Wizard Pack of your choice. While you are on the Gondwana and on the battlefield you will be operating under the supervision of a man named Heine Westenfluss. He's a veteran of the last war, a ZAFT Red, and personally appointed by me as a member of FAITH."

Athrun's eyes widened slightly. "FAITH? You mean the new Special Operations group?"

Durandal chuckled. "A rather crude way to put it, although given your experience with your father I suppose I can't fault you for reflexively using that title. FAITH is something rather different from the institution created by Patrick Zala. Heine can fill you in on the details when you meet him. If you survive the coming battle and perform well, I may very well bring you in as the group's newest member; you certainly have the background and skills to qualify for it."

"Why would you even make that offer?" asked Athrun, "Since I deserted ZAFT in the last war, wouldn't someone like me be the last person you'd want in an elite unit?"

Durandal shook his head. "I don't see things quite the same way that you do. Yes, you deserted, and military regulations are quite strict regarding the punishment for such an act. However, I believe that yours was a principled defection. You recognized that your father had gone too far and were willing to use what power you possessed to stand up to him while continuing to fight against the tyranny and bloodthirstiness of the Earth Alliance as well. That speaks to a great deal of moral fortitude on your part, and that is a quality that I seek in the people that I choose to surround myself with."

"You were so brave!" said the fake Lacus, "You fought to protect everyone in the last war, not just Coordinators. That's why we need you with us!"

Durandal smiled. "Simply put, but more than adequate. Besides, it would be a crime for a man of your talents to merely be reinstated as a Red. There is so much more that you are capable of, and I want to give you the power to realize your full potential. Serve your probationary period and survive your trial by combat, and I give you my word that I will grant you everything you need to truly make a difference in the struggle to come."

"Is that all?" asked Athrun, "That seems pretty straight forward."

Durandal smirked. "Well, not quite. There is one other requirement that I have for you, and it concerns our lovely friend here."

Athrun looked over at the Lacus lookalike. "I was wondering when you'd get to her. What's her story?"

"As you're quite well aware," said Durandal, "the real Lacus Clyne has not returned to the PLANTs since Patrick Zala's government forced her to flee. It truly is a shame; her ability to both inspire and calm people is unique and invaluable. The PLANTs have felt the pain of her absence more than you realize over these past two years. I cannot reach out to her and convince her to come home; I do not even know where she is. Yet with the way tensions have been escalating even prior to the events at Armory One, her charisma and status as an angel of peace are needed now more than ever. Lacus Clyne may no longer be willing to serve the PLANTs… but the appearance of her doing so can be created just the same."

"So you hired her to act as a double," said Athrun, "That might work short-term, but sooner or later people will catch on."

Durandal smiled. "I think that you're mistaken. You may have seen through the deception, but you know the real Lacus Clyne better than most. To the people at large, she was a singer, an idol, and an inspirational idealist. They didn't know her on a personal level."

"Maybe," Athrun replied, "Even so… this is pretty underhanded."

Durandal sighed. "Perhaps so. However, if she can bring a sense of calm and hope to the people in these troubling times, then I sincerely believe that the deception that comes with her role is a very small price to pay. With her, we can prevent the fear and anger of the people from growing into the terror and hatred that was so readily fueled by your father's regime. War by its very nature is an ugly affair, and it has the capacity to bring out the worst in people. If a method such as this helps the people of the PLANTs remember who they are and brings out their better angels, isn't it worth indulging in a little smoke and mirrors?"

The argument made sense, but Athrun was still a little uncomfortable at the notion of a government-backed fake Lacus preaching to the people. It felt like an insult to what the real Lacus had worked so hard to accomplish in the last war. The taste it left in his mouth was bitter, but he highly doubted that any objections he raised would convince the Chairman to alter course now.

"Fine," he said, "but you're using her in the role you described raises another question; why hasn't she been in the news? Lacus being back in the PLANTs would be a headline story, but there hasn't been a word about it in the international media."

Durandal smirked and nodded. "How very observant of you. The truth is, I'm holding her in reserve. She will be unveiled to the public once the fighting begins. If we time her debut right then it will have maximum impact."

"I won't let you down, Chairman!" said the fake Lacus, "I promise that I'll do my best!"

Durandal gave her a warm smile. "Fear not, my dear. I'm sure you'll exceed even my wildest expectations."

"You said that she was involved in your requirements for me to prove myself to you," said Athrun, his eyes narrowing, "In what way?"

Durandal turned back to him. "Well, for starters, you would need to cooperate in the story that she is indeed the real Lacus Clyne. For obvious reasons, your word would carry a great deal of weight in this matter, and I can't have you revealing her true nature."

Athrun nodded reluctantly. "If it helps keep the people of the PLANTs from going down my father's path… then I'll keep her secret to myself."

Durandal bowed. "I'm grateful for your discretion. Rest assured that it will not go unnoticed or unrewarded."

"Thank you, Athrun!" cried the fake Lacus as she put her arm around him, "I knew that I could count on you!"

"Uhm… sure," said Athrun, feeling more than a little awkward as he carefully slipped free of the girl, "So… what's your real name?"

She smiled. "It's Meer. Meer Campbell. Please call me Lacus, though!"

"All right," he replied as he turned back to the Chairman, "I'm assuming you want me to do more than just keep her true name a secret."

Durandal nodded. "Indeed. During the last war, your engagement to Lacus Clyne was public knowledge… and exploited. The son of the Defense Chairman and the daughter of the Supreme Council Chairman; people saw the two of you as representing the very best of the Coordinator people. As a couple, you were a shining vision of the future."

"That engagement was arranged by our fathers," said Athrun, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable about the direction this conversation was heading in, "We went along with it because it was our duty. We were on good terms, but… well, we weren't exactly upset when it got called off."

Durandal chuckled. "I thought as much. You needn't be ashamed of feeling that way; it's only natural that you would prefer to find someone on your own terms rather than be forced to be with them. I imagine Lacus held a similar sentiment. From what I know of her, I highly doubt that she would've thought ill of you for being relieved at the arrangement falling through due to the events surrounding the two of you and her father."

Athrun shook his head. "No. We both knew that we were better off as friends, anyway; we were always much more comfortable with each other that way than as a couple."

"And there's nothing wrong with acknowledging that," Durandal said with a warm smile, "The two of you were pushed together by circumstances beyond your control. Even if the image of the two of you together made our people happy, it would be wrong to discount your feelings on the matter."

Durandal sighed. "That being said, while the engagement itself may have been called off, the people of the PLANTs do still hold you and Lacus Clyne in high regard. As individuals you are symbols of our better angels. You defied your father and fought against his march to genocide, while Lacus preached understanding and cooperation between Naturals and Coordinators. By yourselves, you're strong. Together, though, I believe that your power is amplified exponentially."

"So what do you want us to do?" he asked cautiously.

"Meer's public debut will come soon enough," Durandal replied, "and it's likely to be a solo performance. However, there may be future instances where it would be ideal to have her appear in public with you."

Athrun's eyes narrowed. "Are you planning on putting the engagement back on?"

Durandal shook his head. "No, unless you indicated an openness to that. Based on your current demeanor, though, I do not see that as likely. That being said, if the two of you gave an appearance of being… close, as it were, it would give the people something to take their minds off of what will no doubt be a hard-fought and bloody struggle."

"So it's not enough to have a fake Lacus," said Athrun, "You want me to be part of a fake relationship, too?"

"It would strictly be for public consumption," said Durandal, although if he was trying to be reassuring it wasn't working, "and the two you needn't make any official statements that you're romantically involved. That would be far too blatant. It would be better to just give the people hints and let them draw their own conclusions. You are under no obligation to actually enter a relationship."

"But you wouldn't be opposed to it," said Athrun, folding his arms.

Durandal smiled. "Well, should it come about, I certainly wouldn't object. How things evolve from here is up to you, though. I only ask that you be willing to partake in public appearances with her should the opportunity arise. Also, this is not just for the civilian population to partake in; I expect that the military rank and file will find the two of you together to be an interesting and welcome distraction. It would be best if you allowed your soon-to-be comrades to come to their own conclusions about you and Meer rather than disabuse them of such notions."

Athrun sighed. He wasn't particularly happy about this, but at the very least it sounded like Durandal was willing to give him more leeway than his father and the late Siegel Clyne had given him and Lacus during their public spectacle of an engagement. If playing along meant that he would be able to fight with ZAFT and make a real difference in the war, possibly even help bring it to a swift conclusion, then was it really such a bad deal?

Cagalli's face flashed through his mind. If he was supposed to be seen in public with Meer and pretend that she was Lacus, it was all but certain that she would see images of the two of them together sooner or later. What would she think? She would instantly know that Meer was an imposter, but what would it say to her when she witnessed Athrun going along with such a ruse?

I can explain everything to her later, he thought, It's for the best. She'll understand.

It was a sentiment that rang hollow to him. There wasn't much he could do about it, though. He had thrown the dice in coming here, and he had no choice but to accept the outcome. Durandal held all the cards, and Athrun was lucky that the Chairman hadn't imposed stricter terms for allowing him to rejoin ZAFT.

"All right," he said, "I'll play along."

Durandal nodded. "I very much appreciate that."

"Don't worry, Athrun," said Meer as she winked at him, "It'll be fun!"

"It's not supposed to be fun," Athrun chided her, "It's for the greater good."

"Athrun is right, Meer," Durandal gently admonished, "I appreciate the enthusiasm that you bring to your role, but you must take the responsibilities that come with your position as seriously as Athrun does."

Meer nodded. "Of course, Chairman."

"So," said Athrun, "when do I leave for the carrier?"

"Within the hour," said Durandal, "I'll have transportation arranged. We'll need to get you reintegrated with the fleet as quickly as possible. I'm sure much of it will be familiar to you, but there have still been some changes since the last war."

"Of course," said Athrun, "I'm a quick learner."

Durandal smiled. "I'd expect nothing less."

He stood up, with Athrun and Meer following suit. Walking around the desk, the Chairman then held his hand out.

"Good luck, Athrun Zala," he said, "I look forward to witnessing your rebirth as a soldier of ZAFT."

Athrun nodded as he shook his hand. "Thank you, Chairman."

….

The hangar design for most ZAFT warships was typically a cramped one. It was usually no more than an enlarged corridor with slots built into the walls for mobile suits, and it was tucked in just behind the ship's linear catapult. It was functional and efficient, but it still made work crews and pilots feel like they were being crammed into a sardine can.

The main hangar bay of the super carrier Gondwana did not fit that description.

As the largest ship in ZAFT's space fleet, and one devoted to the primary purpose of carrying copious amounts of mobile suits, one would expect the vessel to have a larger hanger than normal ships, but even someone with that expectation would be utterly awed by what they found aboard the carrier. The central space where the vessel stored its mobile suits was massive. It felt less like a hangar and more like a central plaza that one might find in a major city. It was a gargantuan and cavernous space capable of housing, maintaining and repairing hundreds of mobile suits, while the open area in the middle was wide enough for scores of machines to be brought out of their births at any one time to allow for experimental maneuvers to test their combat readiness. At the far end were the slots for the vessel's multiple linear catapults, which were capable of getting the ship's vast complement of mobile suits onto the battlefield with stunning rapidity.

Completed after both the Bloody Valentine War and the ratification of the Treaty of Junius Seven, the super carrier Gondwana was perhaps the ultimate expression of Coordinator space combat doctrine. ZAFT was used to having a numerical handicap in its struggles against the Earth Alliance, and the treaty limitations on force numbers had simply reinforced their traditional position of being outnumbered by the opposing power. The answer to this problem was the same one that the Coordinator people had lived by in the war; qualitative overmatch. Just as their mobile suits had been superior to any unit fielded by the Earth Alliance until the development of the Heliopolis prototypes, and just as their warships had outperformed any vessel the Atlantic Federation had produced until the construction of the Archangel, the new super carrier promised to stand well above any craft employed by the opposing fleet in its intended role.

At twelve-hundred meters in length, the Gondwana was the largest military vessel operating in the Earth Sphere. Its colossal olive drab hull was truly an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Four long vertical slots dominated the front of the ship, and each of these in turn was subdivided into four smaller openings. These were the openings for its linear catapults, and its system for launching and recovering mobile suits was unrivaled by any other vessel. The top of the hull was composed of a broad bridge from which not only the ship itself was controlled, but also the operations of both its mobile suit teams and supporting fleets were coordinated from. This command center was flanked on both sides by long, curved, and reinforced protrusions that provided the bridge with shelter from broadside attacks, although it remained vulnerable to fusillades fired from head on.

Unlike the Earth Alliance's Agamemnon-class carriers, the Gondwana had very thick armor. It would take a concentrated assault to bring her down; even the Minerva's mighty Tannhäuser positron cannon was incapable of destroying her with a single shot. Of course, the armor wasn't likely to hold up against something as powerful as a nuke or Wing Zero's fearsome rifle, but it was the duty of the vessel's mobile suits to keep such threats from reaching the warship to begin with. Despite her size, though, the carrier was only lightly armed. Anti-ship weaponry consisted of eight dual beam cannons and eight single beam cannons, while 40 CIWS made up the vessel's anti-air armament. The ship truly was first and foremost a carrier, unlike the hybrid Orizaba-class carrier/dreadnoughts.

It's one hell of a ship, thought Galm Two as he floated next to his mobile suit, I wonder how she'll hold up once the fireworks start…

Now thirty years old, Larry 'Solo Wing Pixy' Foulke hadn't changed much over the past two years. That well-trimmed brown hair, brown eyes, and stubble running along his jaw and chin remained, as did his laid-back and confident attitude. His outfit hadn't changed over the past two years either; blue jeans, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket. It wasn't the right thing to wear in the hangar of a warship; he really should've had his flight suit on just in case there was a loss of pressure. However, he wasn't here to sortie at this time, just to check over his machine. He'd be out of here soon enough.

His machine wasn't much when compared to what he'd flown in the final battle of the last war; the ZGMF-X07A Morgan could've put any unit on the Gondwana to shame. Its successor promised to be an even greater beast, but unfortunately it still wasn't ready for deployment. Galm Two had no choice but to make do with the mass production unit that closest met his preferences and fighting style, although he would admit that he could definitely do worse than a ZGMF-1000/A1 Gunner ZAKU Warrior. Specs and armament wise, Pixy's unit was identical to any other ZAKU that had been fitted with this particular Wizard Pack, but at least the paintjob was distinctive; a mix of light grays and a red right arm. Any pilot that was fortunate enough to survive the last war would recognize the color scheme, and as for any newbies Pixy might encounter… well, he doubted that they'd survive long enough to burn his colors into their memory.

He chuckled as he looked up at his unit. "You're a piss poor substitute for what I'm supposed to have… but I'll manage."

"It's poor form to bad talk your mobile suit," said a familiar male voice from off to the right.

Pixy smirked as he looked over at his flight lead. "Since when did you start caring about that sort of thing?"

"Our mobile suits are invaluable partners," his flight lead replied, "even when they are not the units that we would prefer to be using. They deserve our respect and care, especially since we will soon be using them in battle."

Pixy folded his arms. "Come on, don't hide it; you're disappointed in what we have to fly here, too. Your unit's nice, but it's no Galahad."

Cipher chuckled. "Perhaps, but it will do just fine."

Now thirty-two, then man Pixy knew only as Cipher remained as formidable a mercenary now as he had been two years ago. A black patch covered his left eyes, but the right one remained open, a blue-gray orb with a gaze as sharp as a knife. His brown hair was still as unkempt as ever, and it still fell to the base of his neck. He'd kept the faded goatee as well, and Pixy couldn't blame him for it; it was rather popular with the ladies. Like Pixy, Cipher's outfit wasn't standard military attire. The standout piece was a thick white jacket with grey fur at the neckline, sleeves, and coattails. Beneath that was a simple gray button-up shirt, and rounding the ensemble out were black pants and boots. His signature pair of Colt 1911s remained holstered at his waist, and Pixy knew from firsthand experience just how lethal his flight lead was when it came to a quick-draw with them.

The world at large was under the impression that Galm Team had died with GENESIS in the final battle of the last war. ZAFT and the Earth Alliance had been unable to confirm that one way or the other, so Cipher and Pixy had been officially listed M.I.A., but that had simply been a technicality as far as the two superpowers were concerned. However, the truth had been quite different.

Obviously, the two of them had survived, and had in fact been recovered by the destroyer that they had based out of in the war's final campaigns, the Kerimov. However, upon their retrieval and subsequent medical treatment, Cipher had requested that the Kerimov's crew remain silent about their survival. Since they'd established a good working relationship with the ship's Captain over the course of the time they'd spent aboard the destroyer, Galm One's request had been honored. Pixy had been more than a little puzzled by his flight lead's decision, though. After all, they were mercenaries; they needed a public presence if they were to attract clients and set up new contracts.

Cipher's decision had proven prudent before too long, though. The two of them may have been private contractors, but in the final days of the war they had become closely associated with Patrick Zala. While Galm Team hadn't played a direct role in any of the Zala regime's war crimes, that didn't change the fact that they had acted as the last line of defense for a weapon that was capable of ending all life on Earth. Since Patrick Zala had attempted to use said weapon against the cradle of humanity, there was a distinct possibility that Cipher and Pixy could be tried as accomplices to their former employer even though GENESIS had been destroyed and the threat it posed eliminated. Laying low had definitely been the right call under those circumstances.

Despite their links to the old regime, the provisional government headed by Eileen Canaver had never sought them out. Pixy had simply chalked it up to them having bigger fish to fry, and also because the provisional government had needed time to consolidate its rule and prepare for treaty negotiations with the Earth Alliance. No legal proceedings were ever brought against the mercenary duo and the money they had saved up while working for Patrick Zala meant that they were able to live comfortably while remaining beneath the radar for a little while.

It hadn't been until after the elections that had brought Durandal's administration to power that Cipher had proposed that they reach out to the government and ZAFT for employment. Pixy had been skeptical; Durandal may not have been firmly in Siegel Clyne's camp in the last war, but neither was he a staunch ally of Patrick Zala. The man had occupied a middle ground, and in Pixy's eyes that made him difficult to read. Cipher had seemed confident that Durandal would want them on his side, though, so Galm Two had gone along with his flight lead.

The gambit paid off; Durandal did indeed see value in their skills and had readily set them up with a new contract. It had been a very hush-hush affair; the Chairman had stressed discretion and a desire to keep the legendary mercenary duo in the shadows as a secret weapon. Cipher and Pixy hadn't been bothered by that since it meant that they could continue to operate under the radar and avoid drawing the attention of those who might still seek to prosecute them for aiding and abetting Patrick Zala.

At first their work had been to act as instructors for those who were brought into Durandal's new FAITH organization. The soldiers were of good quality, but the Supreme Council Chairman had still insisted that they undergo new training with Cipher and Pixy, and Galm Team had indeed been able to improve the skills of those who had been brought under their wing. Those that they trained were ordered to keep quiet about Galm Team's involvement, and so far none of the trainees had spilled the beans. The money was good, but instructor work was too dull for Cipher and Pixy's tastes for it to really be a long-term career path. Durandal had been well aware of this, and had assured the two of them that they would soon be moved into a position that had the potential to see real action.

Now here they were aboard the largest warship not just in ZAFT but the entire Earth Sphere, preparing for what promised to be a spectacular opening of a new war. Sure, the new machines that Durandal had promised them were not ready for action quite yet, but they still had mobile suits to fly in the imminent battle, and for now that was enough for the two of them. Pixy doubted that any of the pilots they would face off against had anything close to Heero Yuy's level of skill; a standard Gunner ZAKU Warrior and the machine granted to Cipher would be more than enough for the coming fight.

The mobile suit Cipher would be using for the upcoming battle was certainly nothing to sneeze at. A prototype model close-quarters-combat mobile suit that was soon to enter limited production, the ZGMF-X2000 GOUF Ignited was in a few ways a scaled down version of the much more powerful ZGMF-X06A Galahad that Cipher had flown in the final battle of the last war. Its primary melee weapon was the MMI-558 Tempest beam sword, which was actually a smaller version of the double-edged MMI-515 Caledfwlch utilized by the Galahad. The unit also had two MA-M757 Slayer Whip Heat Rods, one mounted within each forearm as opposed to the single whip that had been mounted within the Galahad's forearm shield. Also mounted on each forearm was a M181SE Draupnir 4-barrel beam gun, which gave the machine limited mid-range attack capabilities.

The unit lacked Phase Shift Armor, just like the Gunner ZAKU Warrior that Pixy had been given, but there was a shield mounted on the unit's left arm that provided limited defensive capabilities while also storing the Tempest beam sword. It was also incapable of utilizing the Wizard Packs that gave the ZAKU Warrior series its flexibility. This was somewhat offset by the unit being equipped with a flight pack that not only provided excellent speed and maneuverability in outer space but also enabled it to fly independently while operating on Earth. The few prototype units of this series that had been given to pilots so far each had their own unique paint jobs, and Cipher's was naturally the same as that used by his prior machines; a light grey base with black trim. Once it entered limited production it would be given to unit commanders and certain elite pilots, moving into the role currently occupied by the ZAKU Phantom.

Pixy shrugged. "Well, as long as we get our new machines before we have to tangle with Wing Zero, I guess I'll be fine. It's even more powerful that it was last time around."

"From what I've heard," said Cipher, "there's some confusion as to whether or not it actually is Wing Zero. According to Durandal Heero introduced it as the Albion when he was working with the Minerva."

Pixy chuckled. "Come on, you don't really believe that he actually allowed Orb to destroy Wing Zero at the end of the war, do you?"

Cipher shook his head. "No. What Orb put together was a convincing dummy; there's no way that Heero would've allowed them to really demolish his machine. The Athha administration simply put on a bit of theater to move the Alliance and the PLANTs towards final treaty ratification."

Pixy nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I'm sure we'll be running into him again before too long."

"But not up here," said Cipher, "Not anytime soon."

Pixy smirked. "You almost sound disappointed."

Cipher chuckled. "Maybe."

Looking around the hangar, Pixy's eyes narrowed as he spotted a familiar figure. "Is that who I think it is?"

He'd never actually met the young man in person, but he knew the face. Pixy had seen it on the occasional news broadcast and notifications from ZAFT during the last war… particularly when the person in question had committed treason.

Cipher nodded. "No mistaking it. That's Athrun Zala."

Indeed it was, and not only was he on ZAFT's flagship, but he was also in military uniform. Granted, one he wore was green instead of the red that his old position had entitled him to, but the fact that he was allowed to wear one at all was impressive.

He also wasn't alone. A young man in a red ZAFT uniform was leading him through the hangar. Pixy had never seen him before. He had amber-blond hair that fell just past his chin, and it served as a bright contrast to his green eyes. The ZAFT Red appeared to be at most in his early twenties, and Pixy's sharp eyes did not fail to spot the white winged badge pinned to the upper left section of his chest.

Pixy raised an eyebrow. "Huh. The son Patrick Zala and a member of FAITH on this ship… I wonder when they showed up?"

"Must've just been today," said Cipher with a shrug, "We would've noticed them before now otherwise."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Pixy, "This ship's pretty damn big, after all. They could've been here for a while and we just never bumped into them."

Cipher shook his head. "No. They just arrived today."

Pixy shrugged. "Whatever you say, buddy. Should we go say hello?"

"Don't you think that'd be a bit awkward?" asked Cipher, "You did almost kill one of them in the last war."

Pixy chuckled. "That's right, I forgot all about that. I'm still surprised that Athrun survived that; I really did a number on his mobile suit."

"Indeed," said Cipher, "If it were any other unit than the Justice then I have no doubt that Athrun would have died that day. It's best that we keep out distance for now; no need to force a confrontation. If he's here then it means the Chairman has a use for him. We should avoid any actions that might make him… uncomfortable."

Pixy nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good call. I'm sure he'll find out about us soon enough; it's not like the rest of the crew's kept quiet about the fact that we're here."

"Yes," Cipher replied, "although I do wonder how he'll feel about fighting alongside the likes of us."

"No kidding," said Pixy with a smirk, "That should be amusing."

Welcome back to ZAFT, Athrun Zala, he thought, Are you going to stick around this time, or will you play the traitor again? I suppose we'll just have to wait and see…

….

"This is incredible!" said Athrun as he looked around the Gondwana's hangar, "I never thought the PLANTs would ever build a ship like this!"

His guide looked back at him over his shoulder and smiled. "It is impressive, isn't it? I must admit that my reaction was much like yours when I first came aboard her. She truly is a marvel."

"You can say that again…" Athrun murmured as the two of them headed towards their mobile suits.

Athrun had been more than a little apprehensive when Chairman Durandal had told him that he'd be operating under the supervision of a member of FAITH, but he'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd met Heine Westenfluss. The ZAFT Red might've been a veteran of the last war and had remained loyal to the PLANTs while Athrun had defected, but the blond pilot didn't seem to hold Athrun's desertion against him in the least. He struck Athrun as a rather outgoing and optimistic soldier, although he still retained a sense of realism about the course of current events. The young man certainly didn't lack for confidence in his abilities either, as evidenced by a request he'd made to Athrun to have a simulator fight with him before they actually deployed. Athrun was actually looking forward to it; Heine's confidence did not seem to border on arrogance, and it would be interesting to see how a member of FAITH operated a mobile suit.

"At times," said Heine as they floated through the hangar, "it can be difficult to actually think of the Gondwana as a ship at all. In some respects she's more like a small mobile, space-borne city."

"I heard a rumor that she's actually capable of operating on Earth, too," said Athrun, "Is that true?"

Heine nodded. "In a constrained fashion, yes. She is capable of handing the stress of atmospheric entry; her armor is remarkably strong. The hull's actually seaworthy and designed to float, so the ship can touch down on the surface, albeit only in deep bodies of water. In practice, this limits her operations on Earth itself to the ocean."

"How would she return to space?" asked Athrun, "She's too large for any of the mass drivers."

"That's true," Heine replied, "From what I understand, apparently there are a series of external boosters that can be attached to the carrier to return her to outer space. However, apparently the process to fit the boosters to the ship is quite time consuming and expensive. I can only imagine that the Defense Council would not have her descend to the surface in the first place unless our forces on Earth were in desperate need of reinforcement."

"Is she going to remain one of a kind?" asked Athrun.

Heine shrugged. "That's hard to say. On the one hand, constructing her consumed a serious portion of the military budget, and operating her is no small expense either. That being said, she's an undeniably valuable vessel which greatly expands our fleet's operational capacity without violating the limits of the Treaty of Junius Seven. I don't know if the Defense Council has plans to construct another one of her on the books, but it's a distinct possibility."

Athrun chuckled ruefully. "My father would've killed to have a ship like this in his fleet."

"He got close," said Heine, "The Orizaba-class carrier/dreadnoughts were impressive, and those that survived the war remain a crucial part of our fleet."

"Maybe," said Athrun, "but still… they're not quite as imposing as this ship is."

Heine smiled. "Quite true."

He then looked up ahead and nodded. "Well, here we are. Your new mobile suit, Athrun Zala."

It was a green ZAKU Phantom, which was definitely a step up from the standard ZAKU Warrior that he had flown during his time aboard the Minerva. The unit wasn't fitted with a Wizard Pack yet, but Athrun planned on having a Blaze Pack attached to it before he went into battle; he appreciated that augmentation's capacity to increase the mobile suit's firepower and agility. Heine's unit was right next to his. It was the exact same model, and the only difference was that it was colored bright orange instead of the standard green.

"It's no Justice," said Heine, "but it'll hold its own in a fight."

Athrun nodded. "I saw Rey using one when I was on the Minerva. It performs pretty well."

"Yes," said Heine, "and with it, a skilled pilot can use it to fight the stolen prototypes on even ground. Perhaps it lacks Phase Shift Armor, but its other attributes more than make up for that."

"There's only one of those prototypes left now in enemy hands," said Athrun, "The Gaia's a tough mobile suit, but if I meet it in battle I'm pretty sure I can match it, even if I only have a ZAKU Phantom."

Heine smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Hopefully we'll be able to capture the unit. It would be a shame to destroy it and completely waste the efforts of those who designed it."

"Do you think it'll show up if the Alliance attacks the PLANTs?" asked Athrun.

Heine shrugged. "It's hard to say. I know that the Fleet Intelligence Service has been trying to track it down since the orbital battle, but I haven't heard any news of success. There's no way to tell when or where it will show up next."

"It's too bad Heero destroyed the other two machines," said Athrun, "I'm sure the Chairman would've liked the chance to recapture them along with the Gaia."

Heine nodded. "Indeed. I suppose that can't be helped, though. It's no surprise that they were destroyed; there are very few pilots who can survive an encounter with the legendary Heero Yuy, regardless of what type of mobile suit they're flying. You're one of the lucky ones, if I recall correctly."

Athrun smiled. "Yeah. Looking back on it, I'm kind of amazed that I was able to come out of those fights alive, especially since I was using the Aegis back when I went up against Heero instead of the Justice."

"The fact that you were able to do so speaks volumes of your skills," Heine replied, "In my opinion, that alone ought to qualify you for FAITH membership. If we both survive the coming fight I can't see why I wouldn't recommend that the Chairman bring you into our ranks, all things considered."

Athrun's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

Heine nodded and smiled. "Oh, absolutely. We're not just another incarnation of your late father's Special Operations Squadrons. Sure, some members of ZAFT's regular forces might call us Durandal's Praetorian Guard, but I can assure you that that is a gross misconception. The Chairman and the Supreme Council do not simply seek out loyal and skilled pilots and invite them to join our ranks. Every member of FAITH brings a unique perspective and set of experiences to the group. You could say that being an extraordinary individual is a prerequisite for joining, and based on everything you went through in the last war I would say that you certainly meet the criteria. I also heard about your actions at Armory One and the orbital battle, and that has only further cemented my belief that you truly do belong in our ranks. I'm sure that the Chairman feels the same way."

"Thanks," said Athrun.

It felt strange to be receiving such praise from a member of the military that he had defected from in the last war. He'd never met Heine before today, and while he certainly believed that his guide had served in ZAFT under the old regime it was a little hard to imagine a guy as outgoing and relaxed as him being part of the same armed force that had come all too close to wiping out mankind on Earth.

"By the way," said Heine, "you're not the only one that I or the Chairman would like to see join FAITH."

Athrun raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"There's no need to play coy," Heine replied, "I know that you're not the only ZAFT defector that took up residence in the Orb Union at the end of the war. The Chairman didn't just remove the warrant issued for you; charges against Yzak Joule and Dearka Elsman have been dropped as well. In fact, quite recently the Chairman issued a general amnesty for those who felt pushed to abandon ZAFT when it was under the control of your father; he felt that it was long overdue."

"Huh," said Athrun, unable to completely hide his skepticism, "I hadn't heard about that."

Heine shrugged. "Well, that's not too surprising. As I said, it was quite recent, and the news cycle has been rather preoccupied with other matters as of late."

"Okay," said Athrun, "So why bring this up to me now?"

Heine sighed. "The Chairman wanted me to show a little more tact, but the sort of eloquence that he's looking for really isn't my strong point. Besides, political double talk and circling around the point isn't the way to earn the trust of someone like you. I'll be blunt; the Chairman would consider it a great favor if you used your influence with the members of the old Thee Ships Alliance who were once part of ZAFT to convince them to come home. Our military can certainly use their talents; it's no secret that our ranks were decimated in the last war, especially during the final battle. We don't have nearly enough veteran officers to provide our new recruits with effective leadership. If even a handful of the defectors from the last war came back into the fold, I imagine that the capabilities of our forces would be considerably amplified."

Athrun shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be of much use to you or the Chairman there. When they left ZAFT, they were pretty adamant on never coming back."

"Perhaps they were back then," said Heine, his eyes narrowing, "but that was two years ago. You're back now, after all. Who's to say that the others haven't had a change of heart over the years?"

"Trust me," said Athrun, "that's not going to happen."

Heine shrugged. "That's unfortunate, especially since the offer would be open to more than just those who left ZAFT. Former members of the Earth forces would be welcome too, and that even extends to the Coordinator that once fought for them."

"You don't know Kira very well," Athrun replied, "He's not about to let himself be used by ZAFT, especially not after what happened in the last war."

Heine sighed. "That is a shame. Well, perhaps after you've spent some time back in uniform you'll reconsider broaching the offer to your friends. The Chairman's quite patient, after all."

"I hope he's not holding his breath," said Athrun, "Nothing personal, Heine, but what you're asking me to do isn't going to happen."

Heine nodded. "If you insist. It's not vital to my evaluation of you; it's just something that the Chairman wanted you to consider."

"So is that another role the Chairman gives members of FAITH?" asked Athrun, "He uses them to pass along items for 'consideration' to people?"

Heine smiled. "We are the direct representatives of both the Chairman and the Supreme Council within the armed forces, and we answer only to them. If they ask us to encourage a particular course of action within the ranks, then it is our duty to do so unless we find their request to be objectionable."

Athrun's eyes narrowed. "And if you refuse?"

"We're not punished," said Heine, "Not if we can present a strong case for our objections. The Chairman does prefer to surround himself with people who think for themselves, after all. Raising dissent is not punished so long as it is done so respectfully and with an eye towards presenting a better course of action. In fact, you could say that such constructive criticism is encouraged."

Athrun was skeptical, although he didn't say as much. Perhaps his experiences with his late father were influencing his perspective more than they should, but he had a hard time imagining that the Chairman would give agents of his will that kind of discretion, let alone tolerate criticism from them.

"Well," Heine continued, "I'm sure you'll learn more about FAITH and the role its members play as time goes on. Trust me; if you become a member, your perspective will certainly shift."

"We'll see," said Athrun.

Not for the first time, Athrun had to wonder if he was getting in over his head here. He'd only returned to the PLANTs so he could take on a role that would let him make a difference and either stop a new war from happening or make sure that whatever new conflict broke out was a short one. While he'd been hoping for a position that had some sort of influence, joining the ranks of FAITH wasn't what he'd had in mind. However, if it meant that he could truly use his talents to their full extent, would it really be so bad if he joined an organization that answered only to the Chairman and the Supreme Council?

I guess I'll just have to wait and see, he thought, Of course, I have to survive the coming battle first…

….

Eric Bristow looked up from the computer monitor and smiled as the young man he'd been waiting for entered the room. "Heero, thanks for coming!"

Wing Zero's pilot nodded. "You said it was important, so I came as soon as I was able to."

"I hope you don't mind that I tagged along," said Murrue as she came into the room behind him, "We were in the middle of lunch when you called."

To Eric's right his wife smiled. "Don't sweat it, Murrue."

"I didn't expect you to be here too, Shemei," said Heero.

The Valkyrie shrugged. "I was helping Eric browse through some files he got from his contacts when he made his discovery. We're going to forward this along to Andrew, but we wanted to get your thoughts on it before we did that."

Heero nodded. "All right, but I'm going to need some context."

"Right," said Eric as he tapped some keys, "Give me a second."

The room they were in was actually part of the subterranean bunker complex that sprawled beneath the mansion owned by Terminal. It was dedicated to information analysis, and as the group's unofficial spymaster it was a room that Eric spent a lot of his time in, especially in recent days with tensions spiking across the Earth Sphere. His desk occupied the center of the room, but there were multiple monitors and consoles along the walls, along with several larger screens for group viewing.

One of the wall monitors came to life, and Eric saw Heero's eyes narrow as he studied the data. "These look like appropriations figures."

Murrue was peering intently at the information as well. "Is this for ZAFT's fleet?"

Eric nodded. "Yup. An old acquaintance of mine forwarded this to me this morning. He's an aide for ZAFT's Budget Committee, so he's got quite a bit of access. What you're seeing are the planned ship construction figures for the next year."

Shemei folded her arms. "They're definitely upping their firepower. More Nazca-class destroyers slated to come on line; looks like they're still phasing out the older Laurasia-class frigates."

"There're more than a few Hel-class cruisers slated for construction too," said Murrue softly.

It was Heero who found the big ticket items buried in the data. "Two more Gondwana-class carriers and three Orizaba-class carrier/dreadnoughts… does ZAFT really have the available dock space necessary for constructing all these?"

Eric smiled. "I'm glad you asked. Check this out."

A second wall monitor came to life right next to the first one. Like the first one it was almost solid text, but Eric knew that his friends were sharp enough to sift through the data and make sense of it.

"These look like shipyard schedules," said Murrue.

Shemei nodded. "Maintenance timeframes and rotations, along with new work orders, I think."

"It doesn't match the Budget Committee's construction figures," said Heero, leaning forward slightly, "The work orders for new ship construction here are mostly for Nazca-class vessels, along with a few Hel-class cruisers. Everything else is maintenance rotations for existing ships. None of the docks capable of building ships on the scale of the Gondwana or Orizaba-class vessels have new construction orders for either type of warship."

Murrue shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. ZAFT's a professional military organization; there's no way that there should be this big of a discrepancy between the Budget Committee's figures and the shipyard work schedules."

Eric sighed. "That's because the Budget Committee's figures are fake. Well, some of them, anyway."

"What do you mean?" asked Heero.

"It's an accounting trick," Eric replied, "and it was used in the last war by the Zala regime. Basically they pad the official budget with costs for warships that they aren't actually planning to construct. It's a way of hiding what those funds are really meant for."

He saw his wife's eyes widen as the proverbial light bulb flicked on. "That's one of the ways they kept the construction of GENESIS hidden, wasn't it?"

Eric nodded. "Exactly. If you only saw the data from the Budget Committee then you wouldn't be able to tell, but by comparing it with the activity that's actually scheduled to take place at the shipyards themselves you can cut through the smokescreen."

"So none of the carriers or dreadnoughts listed will be built," said Heero, folding his arms, "In that case…"

"What are those funds really for?" Murrue finished for him.

"That's the big question," said Eric grimly, "and it's one that I haven't found an answer for yet. My contacts are still digging around, but it's going to take time for them to get to the bottom of this. Whatever Durandal and the Supreme Council are up to, they're trying to keep a tight lid on it."

"Andrew needs to know about this," said Shemei, "If Durandal's keeping this quiet, then I doubt it's anything good."

"Especially when you consider that the last time the rulers of the PLANTs employed this trick it was to conceal the creation of GENESIS," said Murrue softly.

"It can't be mobile suits," Heero replied, "The amount of funds we're talking about here are simply too big, and that's including the possibility for nuclear powered units. Whatever the Durandal government has in the works, it's on a massive scale."

"No argument there," said Eric, "I'm going to have my contacts extend their search. When Zala was building GENESIS he didn't just need to hide the transfer of funds. Physical resources, laborers and specialists had to be shuffled around too."

"You got something in mind?" asked Shemei.

Eric nodded. "I'm going to see if our network can dig up new personnel transfer orders. We'll start with the top tier specialists; weapons designers, nuclear engineers, that sort of thing. Checking out the defense contractors and design bureaus could turn up something too, especially if they've gotten new work orders that they're trying to keep off the books."

"Are the designers that worked on GENESIS still in the PLANTs?" asked Murrue, "If they are, it's possible that they could be drafted to work on this new project."

"That's true," Eric replied, "and they're one of the first groups I'm going to have my network check out. To my knowledge they're still in the PLANTs; their skills are just too valuable for any regime to lose, even if they worked on a weapon that nearly ended all life on Earth."

"How do the redirected funds here stack up when compared to those diverted to GENESIS?" asked Heero.

Eric's eyes narrowed. "Hard to say. Right now we still don't have a full picture. It's entirely possible that ZAFT's diverting funds from more than just the space fleet for whatever this project might be. If my contacts can acquire the budgets and work orders from other sectors of the military like the army or surface navy we might be able to get a better idea as to what we could be dealing with here."

"The military might not be the only group that's in on this project," said Shemei, "Depending on what's involved, Durandal could be bringing in outside groups as well; ones that normally would work on civilian projects."

"That's risky," said Heero, "He'd have to work extra hard to ensure their silence. Bringing in any outside civilian contractors could compromise whatever it is that ZAFT's working on."

"Perhaps," said Murrue, "but it's still an angle worth checking out."

Eric nodded. "Agreed. I can already think of a few groups that might be brought in, depending on the kind of work involved. Their security won't be as tight as ZAFT's, so it should be easier to get information out of them. With any luck, maybe we'll find something that'll help us start to unravel this mystery."

Shemei shuddered. "I hope so. It's bad enough knowing that ZAFT's got something big in the works. Who knows what the Earth Alliance could be cooking up on their end?"

Eric sighed. "I know what you mean. We just don't have the same kind of access when it comes to the Earth forces. All we can do is watch carefully and be ready for the worst."

"Speaking of the Alliance," said Heero, "they're still massing their assault force on their side of the Zero Line, right? Any changes there?"

Eric shook his head. "Not according to my contacts in ZAFT's Fleet Intelligence Service. The number's still at around a thousand, and given that we've got less than a day until the President's deadline passes I doubt that number's going to change."

"It won't be enough to break through ZAFT's defenses in a head on assault," said Murrue, "That means they have to have nukes with them. It's the only thing that makes sense."

Shemei nodded. "You're right. ZAFT's going to have their work cut out for them."

"If they do have a countermeasure," said Heero, "we'll see it in action soon enough."

"I wish we could be up there to help," said Eric, "but with the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet bearing down on us, we can't afford to transfer our forces to outer space. We just have no idea if the Americans are going to strike Carpentaria or if they'll attack Orb too. With the way their fleet's moving it could be either target at this point."

"Cagalli has to be aware of that," said Murrue, "Why hasn't she mobilized Orb's armed forces?"

"I asked Kisaka about that," Eric replied, "Apparently she's been trying to mediate between the Atlantic Federation and the PLANTs, but the Seirans and her ministers are undermining her. At the same time, she's worried about taking any action that either the Earth Alliance or ZAFT might interpret as an act of aggression. She still wants to preserve the Orb Union's status as a neutral nation."

"Neutral or not, at this point she has to mobilize her military," said Heero firmly, "She has to send a message that Orb won't allow either the Alliance or ZAFT to simply steamroll over them."

Eric nodded. "Kisaka felt the same way, and I think Andrew does too. Still, her hands are tied. As much as she might want to stand up to the Alliance's bullying, her government's compromised."

"The Seirans," Shemei hissed, "It's too bad Unato and Yuna didn't die when Elysium got hit in the last war. It would've saved us a lot of trouble."

Murrue shook her head. "I don't get it. What do they have to gain by undermining Cagalli at a time of crisis? If the Alliance moves against Orb they'll be under threat as well."

Eric shook his head. "I don't think so. From what I've learned from Kisaka, it seems that the Seirans have pretty extensive financial ties with the Atlantic Federation. If I had to take a guess, I'd say that whoever's pulling the strings in the American government's been keeping in touch with them. Unato and Yuna are known to be pro-Earth Alliance, after all, and I'm sure the Atlantic Federation's well aware of that. If the Seirans are willing to influence the Orb government in a way that benefits the Alliance then it will be difficult for Cagalli to act against them."

"Members of Orb's five noble families have a lot of legal leeway," said Heero grimly, "They could collaborate with a foreign power but still present it as something other than treason. It's much harder for Cagalli to make a move against them without concrete evidence that they're actively undermining their country."

"But it'd be easier for us, right?" said Shemei, "We are off the grid, after all."

Murrue shook her head. "It's not that simple. Cagalli might not be able to officially acknowledge us, but it's an open secret that we support her. If we made a move against the Seirans people could assume that she ordered us to do so. It would weaken her legitimacy within the government."

Eric nodded. "Murrue's right. Our best bet is to keep digging up information on them and hope that Unato and his son get cocky and overreach. If we can expose the right sort of dirt on them, or if they take actions that the people widely disapprove of and recognize as their actions and not Cagalli's, then we can move to neutralize their influence within the government."

"Unfortunately, that will take time," said Heero, a dark look in his eyes, "and with the Earth Alliance forces on the move, time is not on our side."

Shemei sighed. "Damn it. I can't stand this. The world's about to go to war again, Cagalli's got people in her government who are poised to stab her in the back at any moment, and we can't do a thing about it! Give me a straight up fight any day; I hate this political bullshit."

Murrue put her hand on Shemei's shoulder. "You're not alone there. It'll change, though. We don't have what we need to bring down the Seirans right now, but if we keep investigating them we'll find the silver bullet sooner or later."

Shemei nodded. "I know. It'd just be so much easier if we could assassinate them and be done with it. I'm pretty sure at least half of us here have the skills to pull that off."

"Their time will come," said Heero, "One way or another, we'll get our chance to strike against them. Right now we need to focus on the Earth Alliance. If their fleet hits Orb, we're the best defense; the Seirans will likely compromise Cagalli's control over the military. If they move against Carpentaria, then we can tail them and wait for the right opportunity to attack."

Eric leaned back in his chair. "It all depends on which way Alliance's surface forces move. We'll find out soon enough."

….

Working hard to keep her breathing under control, Flay Allster looked down the sight of her pistol. Her eyes narrowing, she imagined the target downrange was Muruta Azrael, and she pulled the trigger. Firing until her clip was empty, she then flipped a switch on the right wall of her stall on the shooting range. The paper target was brought forward by a sliding rack system mounted along the ceiling, giving Flay the chance to examine her shot grouping. They had all hit in the center of the target's mass, although only one was actually a bull's eye.

"Not bad," said a familiar male voice from behind her.

She turned around and smiled at her boyfriend. "You think so?"

Yzak nodded. "Sure. Your shot grouping's pretty consistent."

She sighed as she looked at the target he was holding; all his shots were dead center. "Not as good as yours, though."

Yzak shook his head. "Don't worry about mine. Focus only on improving your skills."

"That's easy for you to say," she replied, "You're barely even trying and you still do better than me."

"It's not like that," said Yzak, "I've had military training, plus I'm a Coordinator. You only really started shooting after Badgiruel recovered you at Mendel, right? I'd say that I have a pretty unfair advantage over you. You've come a long way over the last two years."

Flay folded her arms. "You're just trying to be nice to me, aren't you?"

Yzak smiled. "Maybe. What's wrong with that?"

Flay couldn't help but smile in return. "Nothing at all."

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before looking back at her target. "Still, I'd like to at least get a little better at this before the fighting starts."

"You're doing fine," said Yzak, "Besides, it's not like you're going to be using your gun on a regular bases. You work on the bridge of the Archangel. If you need your gun there then it means something's gone very wrong."

Flay shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I still want to be ready, just in case."

Yzak put his hand on her shoulder. "You are ready. Your shooting's pretty good for a bridge officer. The skills that really count are the ones you'll be using when the Archangel goes into battle, and you did just fine in the fight up at the Junius Seven ruins."

Flay shuddered. "I don't know… I felt like I was scared stiff during that fight."

"I can't blame you there, considering what the stakes were," said Yzak, "but you still held it together and did your duty. That's what really matters."

Flay nodded. "Thanks. I just hope I'll be able to keep it together when the fighting starts again. We won't be up against ZAFT renegades this time; it'll be the Earth Alliance. I know I left two years ago, but…"

"You still think of it as home, right?" Yzak finished for her.

Flay sighed. "Is it wrong that I do? I mean, after all they did I should've been able to completely leave the Atlantic Federation behind, but still…"

Yzak shook his head and smiled. "It's not wrong. I think I'm the same way, really; part of me still thinks of the PLANTs as home. I can't go back, and I have no plans on doing so, but the sentiment's still there."

Her eyes widened; she'd never heard him mention that before. "Yzak…"

Yzak smirked in response. "Don't worry about it. It's just a bit of sentimentality. Like I said, I'm not going back. Even if they rescinded the warrant on my head for treason, it'd be a bit awkward going back to the same country that my mom's serving a prison sentence in for aiding and abetting a mass murderer."

Flay looked down; she'd completely forgotten about that. "I'm sorry. I thought I had it bad because my dad died, but you and your mom… I don't know what's worse."

Yzak shook his head. "Me neither. My dad wasn't in government, so to my knowledge he's still free, but… well, he and my mom had pretty much the same line when it came to politics, so I doubt he'd be happy to see me again after what I did in the war."

"I don't know what my dad would say if he were still alive," said Flay, "He was pretty high up in the Atlantic Federation, so… I don't think he'd be happy that I turned against it. I don't know if he believed what Azrael did, but I remember that he wasn't too fond of Coordinators."

Yzak sighed. "We didn't exactly have model families, did we?"

Flay smiled and grabbed his hand. "Not before, but we have a new family now, and it's one that we can be proud of."

Yzak nodded and smiled. "You're right about that. It's a pretty badass one too when you think about it. I mean, we've got enough firepower to make both the Alliance and ZAFT pretty nervous."

Flay couldn't help but giggle. "That's true. I wonder what daddy would say if he found out that I was friends with the man who destroyed the Alaska base."

Yzak chuckled. "He'd probably have the same reaction as my mom if I told her that I was working with the one who destroyed Avalon and GENESIS. That's not counting the rest of our friends; with all of us put together I'm pretty sure we've wiped out a few fleets worth of ships and mobile suits from both ZAFT and the Alliance."

Flay nodded. "Good point. I just hope that we don't have to stack up as big of a body count this time around."

Yzak shrugged. "We'll find out soon enough."

He then stepped forward and put both hands on her shoulders, taking her by surprise. "Yzak…"

His expression as he spoke was dead serious. "Flay… no matter what happens, I won't fail you like I did at Mendel. I promise that I'll keep you safe."

Flay couldn't help but smile even as she shook her head. "Yzak, how many times do I have to tell you? You didn't fail me back then. If you'd tried to stop Creuset from sending me to Azrael he would've killed you; we both know that. It wasn't your fault, and I'll never blame you for it. Let it go, all right?"

"Even so," he replied with determination, "I won't let the Alliance or ZAFT get their hands on you. I'll take down anyone who comes after you. After what we survived two years ago, there's no way that I'm losing you now."

She leaned forward and kissed him. "Same here. Maybe you want to protect me, but don't forget that I'll be on the Archangel while you'll be flying your mobile suit. You're the one who'll be in greater danger, so you'd better be careful. You're not allowed to die on me, you got that?"

Yzak smirked. "Is that an order?"

"You bet it is," Flay shot back.

He gave her a mock salute. "Well, then, I'll do my best to follow it."

….

"You know," said Dearka from behind her, "you really don't have to watch this crap."

Miriallia couldn't help but jump as she looked over her shoulder. "How long were you there?"

Dearka shrugged as he came around and joined her on the couch. "Not long. Seriously, do you really need to watch the Atlantic Federation's news broadcasts? I mean, I'm all for staying informed on current events, but it's not like you're going to get a good picture by listening to the Americans."

Miriallia shook her head. "It's not enough to simply be well informed. By listening to enemy propaganda you can get a better idea as to how they think. Yes, what the North American broadcast networks are spewing out is absolutely vile, but it's also content that millions of people absorb on a daily basis. That has an effect, whether the population realizes it or not. In order to fight back against the fear and hatred the hardliner pundits infect the populace with, we have to first understand their talking points and develop effective means of debunking them."

Dearka smiled. "That's a noble goal, but I can't see us challenging the Atlantic Federation's news networks for influence over their own people anytime soon. Lacus may be a genius when it comes to public relations and inspiring others, but even she has her limits. I doubt the Alliance would let any of her messages get out over their official networks, and they've probably got some heavy-duty filters set online too."

Miriallia smirked. "They can try to filter opposition content all they want, but they can't completely control what their population sees on the web no matter how hard they try. I've checked out some of the underground social media sites to sample any dissident views coming out of people in North America; you'd be surprised at what some of them are saying. The Atlantic Federation isn't quite as cut off from the message of our cause as its rulers would like it to be. The tighter an authoritarian regime tries to grasp, the more that those who seek a brighter future search for ways to make their voices heard."

Dearka chuckled. "Sounds like something Lacus would say."

"She did say that, actually," Miriallia replied, "It's something she told me after we got set up here. Her words were actually part of the reason why I agreed to let Mister Bristow teach me the ways of intelligence gathering; I wanted to learn how to find those who oppose people like the monsters we fought against in the last war and show them that they're not alone. If I can do something to inspire them to stand up for what's right like we did, then that would help our cause."

Dearka whistled. "That's ambitious. Any ideas about how to pull that off?"

Miriallia sighed. "Nothing concrete. I've bounced some off of Lacus, but it's definitely a case of easier said than done. Mister Bristow's right; we just don't have the same level of access within the Earth Alliance as we do in the Orb Union and the PLANTs. We need more connections and sympathizers in positions of authority so we can influence a broader opposition movement and learn more about who we're up against."

Dearka shook his head. "And this is why I prefer flying a mobile suit; it's much simpler to shoot the enemies right in front of me than fight them in a war of ideas and information. That sort of thing's way over my head."

Miriallia chuckled ruefully. "It might be over mine, too. I don't know how we're supposed to get the Atlantic Federation to change its policies. It doesn't matter if we beat them on the battlefield if they just regroup and come back later to attack Coordinators again. We need a long-term solution, but without identifying people within the Earth Alliance that could act to change the direction they're going in I don't see how we can accomplish that. Even if we do find people like that there's still the matter of contacting them and helping them organize against the ruling elite."

"That's not your job, though," said Dearka, "Your post is in the Archangel's CIC. I know Bristow gave you intelligence training, but the kind of thing you're talking about is outside of that. It sounds more like something for him and Lacus to try to tackle."

Miriallia nodded. "I know. It's still something that I want to help with, though. I feel like that's the way for us to really make a long-term difference in this world. By winning the battle of hearts and minds, we could accomplish so much more than we could just through military victories. That's the best path for us to forge a future where another war like the one we went through can't happen again."

Dearka put his arm around her. "Well, if anyone can figure out how to do that, I think it's you. You're a lot smarter than I am, after all."

Miriallia smirked as she kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks. That really goes without saying, though."

"Hey," Dearka pouted, "I was giving you a compliment! You don't need to rub it in my face like that!"

"Sure I do," Miriallia shot back, "Someone's gotta keep you in your place."

Dearka chuckled. "Touché."

Miriallia picked up the remote. "Well, I think I've watched enough of this bile for now. Is there anything good on?"

"How about the classic zombie movie marathon on channel 57?" Dearka suggested with a grin.

"Oh, yeah," said Miriallia, "It's that time of year, isn't it? I totally forgot about that."

Dearka shrugged. "Well, considering we're about to go to war again, I can't really blame you for that. So, zombies?"

Miriallia smiled as she changed the channel. "Zombies it is."

….

Sighing as he looked up at the sky, Kira imagined that he could see the hourglass colonies of L5 floating above the Earth. "I hope he's okay."

"You're really worried about Athrun, aren't you?" asked a familiar female voice from behind him.

Kira turned around and saw Lacus approaching him. "Of course I am. Aren't you?"

Lacus nodded as she joined him at the railing. "Yes, and I do hope that he is all right, but we also have to recognize that he is currently beyond our reach. The decision to return to the PLANTs was entirely Athrun's own, and he will have to deal with the consequences himself."

Kira's eyes widened. "How can you say that? What if he gets into trouble up there?"

Lacus shook her head. "I do not mean to sound heartless, Kira. Of course I fear for Athrun's safety, just like you do. However, that does not change the fact that there is very little that we can do for him if the current PLANT government reacts poorly to Athrun's return. Mister Bristow's network of contacts and informants may be able to let us know if he has been imprisoned or worse, but direct action to help him is beyond our capabilities at this time. We have to recognize that."

She reached over and took his hand. "Athrun is a strong and resilient person. He'll be all right, Kira. Besides, I know that he wouldn't want us to worry about him at a time like this. He would want us to focus on doing our part to protect this world, and we cannot do that effectively if we are distracted."

Kira smiled. "You're right. I just wish that he'd listened to me and Heero; I don't like the idea of him getting sucked back into ZAFT."

"Nor do I," Lacus admitted, "Patrick Zala and his followers may no longer rule the PLANTs, but we do not know enough about Chairman Durandal and his administration for us to fully trust their intentions. At present the government's goal may simply be to defend the PLANTs, but that could very well change once the Earth Alliance's opening assault is repelled."

"Can we really be so sure that ZAFT will be able to beat back the Alliance attack?" asked Kira, "What if they have nukes? Everyone else here seems to think that they do."

Lacus nodded. "Yes, but Mister Bristow and Mister Waltfeld seem confident in ZAFT's ability to counter such a scenario. We have to trust that they know what they're doing. Besides, with the Pacific Fleet heading this way we cannot afford to move to intervene in the coming battle at L5. We still do not know if the Atlantic Federation surface navy is only targeting Carpentaria or if they mean to invade Orb like they did in the last war."

Kira clenched the railing in frustration. "I hate this. It feels like there's nothing that we can do to stop this new war from starting! What's the purpose of what we've built here if we can't do that?"

Lacus shook her head. "I understand how you feel, but we have to accept the limits of our power. There are forces at work here beyond our control, and the ones driving them clearly desire conflict. When our efforts to stop a new war from beginning fail, we must shift our priorities and focus on defending those that we have the power to protect. If the Atlantic Federation decides to bring Orb into its camp through force of arms, then Cagalli's military will not be enough to stem the tide. We must be prepared to act to defend the people of this land where Coordinators and Naturals have proven that it is possible to live together in peace. The Orb Union is more than just our new home; it is a symbol of the world that we strive to create."

Kira sighed. "I know that, but still… it feel like we're just sitting around when we should be acting."

Lacus smiled. "We are hardly idle, Kira, and you know that. All of us in our own way are preparing for the struggle to come. In the last war we acted where our strength was needed the most, where it could have the greatest impact. It is the same here; we are keeping watch and waiting for the right time to take action."

Kira looked up at the sky. "I guess I'm just having a hard time accepting that it's come to this. After all the suffering and death the world endured in the last war, I can't believe that it's about to jump into another one."

Lacus nodded solemnly. "I understand completely. At the end of the last war, I had allowed myself for a time to hope that our world had learned the same lessons that Heero's had; that sheer scope, carnage, and incredible stakes of the final battle had robbed the people of both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT of the will to fight. Mankind was brought to the brink of annihilation, and it was through our efforts that it was given a second chance. I believed that the leaders of both sides would take it and devote their efforts to reconstruction and reconciliation."

She looked down and sighed. "After the treaty signing, when Heero came to visit our island and tell me about his misgivings, his doubts as to whether or not our peace would last… I wanted to believe that he was wrong. I wanted so badly to believe that our world was like his; that mankind in the Cosmic Era could turn its energies towards disarmament and healing, that a new era of world peace could be forged. I may have conceded that we had to prepare for the worst and lent my resources to those efforts, but… I dearly prayed that we would never have to use them. I wanted our days of fighting to be done, but it was not to be."

She turned back to Kira again, and he was startled by the fresh determination in her eyes. "The peace that we fought so hard for in the last war may have failed, but I refuse to lose hope. I am willing to do my part in whatever fighting lies ahead, and I will put my faith in our ability to save this world again. We may be about to plunge into a new war, but we have the power to not only make a difference on the battlefield but in the aftermath as well. When this is all over, we will forge a new peace, and I will devote all of my energy to make it endure. Are you with me, Kira?"

Kira nodded. "Of course."

How could he not be at this point? After all that they'd been through together in the last war, it was impossible for Kira to abandon his commitment to Lacus and her ideals now. Whenever he felt uncertain about the path that he and Terminal were taking, she was always there to give him reassurance and inspiration. The world that she wanted to build was the one that he wanted to build; for him, committing himself to that goal helped give some kind of meaning to all the lives that had been lost in the last war.

Lacus smiled. "Thank you, Kira. The road before us may be long and difficult, but together we can persevere and see this through to a new dawn."

"I know," he replied, his confidence growing, "I'll give it everything I've got."

Lacus leaned forward to kiss him. "I'm sure you will."

….

Taking a sip of his coffee, Andrew Waltfeld smiled as he savored the taste. "Ah, this one brings back memories."

"Which blend is it, Andy?" asked Aisha as she poured herself a fresh cup.

Andrew chuckled. "The one I came up with back in North Africa. It was right before the Archangel touched down on our turf."

Aisha smirked. "In that case, I can definitely see the nostalgic value. That seems like a lifetime ago."

No kidding, he thought, I can't believe all that was just over two years back. Am I really still in my thirties? I feel much older after all we've been through since then. I wonder if Eric feels the same way…

Aisha smiled as she sat down across the table from him. "You're not about to start going gray on me, are you?"

The Desert Tiger smirked as he ran his hand through his hair. "I'm surprised I don't have gray hairs cropping up already. Running a paramilitary group dedicated to keeping two superpowers from wiping each other out definitely isn't easy, that's for sure."

Aisha chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee. "Well, you don't look any worse for the wear. Besides, if the Desert Tiger goes gray, he'll be quite the silver fox."

Andrew grinned. "That's one way to look at it."

Have to keep looking for that silver lining, he thought, and that's not a bad one. Still, I'm amazed I've held up until now. I may still have some mileage left, but I've got plenty of wear and tear. We all do, really, and we'll have a good deal more before this is all over.

The two of them were upstairs in the private quarters they shared at Terminal's estate. They'd just finished going over another batch of intelligence files and were taking a well deserved brake. Outside the late afternoon sun still blazed, but it was moving lower on the horizon.

He looked across the coffee table at his wife. "So you really don't think that we're getting too old for this?"

Aisha shook her head. "We've seen more action that I'd like, but I still got plenty of fight left in me. You do too, don't you?"

Andrew smiled. "As long as you're willing to stick it out with me."

Aisha nodded. "Always."

He closed his good eye for a moment, considering some of the information the two of them had reviewed earlier. "I may be up for another round or two, but I'd at least like to know what I'm getting myself into. Eric's done a good job, but there're still too many gaps in our knowledge for my liking."

"What are you more worried about?" asked Aisha, her expression becoming serious, "The Earth Alliance or ZAFT?"

He sighed. "As strange as it is to say this… ZAFT, actually."

Aisha raised an eyebrow. "Really? Granted, we know less about the new leadership than we'd like to, but whatever else Chairman Durandal is he doesn't strike me as a rehash of Patrick Zala. I doubt genocide is among his intentions. The Earth Alliance is a different matter; based on their rhetoric and activity we've got a pretty good idea as to what they're hoping to accomplish."

Andrew nodded. "I know, but despite their brutality and ruthlessness the Alliance at least follows a familiar script. We know what their real motives are; we have from the beginning. The PLANTs under Durandal are another matter. This war may start for ZAFT as a defensive action, but I've got a feeling it won't stay that way."

"What makes you say that?" asked Aisha, "I mean, sure, Durandal's made some controversial moves in the past. Armory One would be the standout example, especially if he was telling Heero the truth about the end goal being an entire colony city being set up at L4. Still, I can't see him fighting this war any other way than defensively. The people of the PLANTs wouldn't go along with him shifting gears and making this into a war of conquest; they're too wary after what happened with the Zala regime."

The Desert Tiger shook his head. "Normally I'd agree with you, but Durandal's not like Zala. Zala was cunning, but he lacked restraint; it was all too easy for his real agenda to slip into his public speeches. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could've figured out how he really wanted to end the war, especially during the final campaigns; his filter pretty much went out the window right before Jachin Due."

He looked out at the sky before continuing. "Durandal's different. He's intelligent, discrete, and highly charismatic. His public persona's been well crafted; the people see him as a reformer and a visionary. They're not wrong in that regard, but there's more to him than that. He has an eye towards the long game, and he's very ambitious."

"That last bit could be said about anyone who goes into public service," Aisha countered, "It's not necessarily a bad thing, particularly if the energy behind it is harnessed and directed towards a noble goal."

"I agree with you there," Andrew replied, "but it's impossible for us to say for sure what Durandal's ultimate goal is in all this. His path towards politics and high office was rather unusual; he started out as a geneticist, of all things. A man like that doesn't go into politics for the usual reasons. He wants something, and I've got no idea what it is."

"So becoming Supreme Council Chairman wasn't an end in and of itself," said Aisha, her eyes narrowing, "Just the means."

Andrew nodded. "Yeah. Call me crazy, but I think his motives are still rooted in his background as a geneticist. I've got no proof whatsoever; it's just a hunch."

"Is there anything in his work from his time in that field that could offer a clue?" asked Aisha.

The Desert Tiger shrugged. "Hard to say. According to Eric, the work he did that's public knowledge was pretty conventional for someone in that field. It's what was done behind closed doors that might hold the key we're looking for. Don't forget, from what Eric's managed to dig up so far, Durandal has done work for the government in the past, and some of it was pretty hush-hush. Also, he was rumored to have connections to what went on out at Mendel, although there's no concrete evidence of that."

"Mendel…" said Aisha softly, "Could that have been one of the reasons why he chose L4 as the site for Armory One's construction? It's just outside of the debris field; that old colony's practically a stone's throw away."

Andrew's good eye widened slightly; he'd never considered that possibility. "You know… you might be onto something there."

"Do you think it's worth checking out?" asked Aisha.

Andrew nodded. "Back when we were at Mendel, the furthest any of us actually went inside that colony was when Kira and La Flaga were chasing Creuset. The colony definitely survived the war, so the facility that Kira and La Flaga found should still be intact. There could very well be something out there that can shed light on Durandal's motives."

"If it hasn't been disturbed since the battle out there," said Aisha, her eyes narrowing, "Remember, Armory One's been out there for a while now; Durandal's had plenty of time to dispatch operatives to Mendel if there's evidence out there that he'd rather not see the light of day."

"It still wouldn't be a bad idea for us to swing on out there and take a look for ourselves," Waltfeld replied, "I'll talk to DaCosta about it; he's in a better position to dispatch a team than we are."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Aisha, "You put him in charge of the Eternal and gave him strict orders not to compromise the location of her hidden dock. Sending out a team from that position does carry the risk of exposing him."

Andrew nodded. "I know, but I still think the potential for new intelligence makes it worth the danger. Besides, it's not like he's undefended up there. He's got the new pilots and their DOM Trooper units, plus we assigned another pilot to your old GuAIZ. If ZAFT or the Alliance does discover him, he's got enough firepower to fight his way to out."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," said Aisha, "I'd rather DaCosta keep our ace in the hole concealed for as long as possible. Besides, the Eternal's not the only thing we're hiding there. The new model mobile suits are being developed there as well, and I'd rather not have ZAFT or the Earth Alliance finding them."

Andrew sighed. "I know what you mean. Those things are absolutely lethal, even when compared to their predecessors. No matter what, we can't let them fall into the wrong hands."

"When do you think they'll be ready for action?" asked Aisha, "Their specs are impressive, but it would still be nice to see what they're really capable of when the heat is on."

"They're coming along nicely," said Andrew, "From the last report I got, I'd say that they're pretty close to completion. Give them a couple more weeks and they'll be all set for live-fire trials."

Aisha sighed. "A couple weeks… who knows how the war will have developed by then?"

Andrew nodded. "I hear you. Unfortunately, we don't really get a say in the matter. That's the price you pay when you develop powerful but complex mobile suits; you have to wait to reap the fruits of your labor."

"I know," Aisha replied, "At least the pilots we built them for don't need them just yet. One still has his machine from the last war, and the other… well, given where Athrun's at right now, I'd say it's a good thing that he doesn't have his new mobile suit."

"Agreed," said Andrew, "ZAFT's got a very advanced mobile suit development program as is. The last thing I want is for them to have access to what we've been cooking up. That goes double for the Earth Alliance; the new unit they debuted at the Armory One raid is trouble enough as it is."

"Heero seemed to deal with it well enough," said Aisha with a smile.

Andrew chuckled. "True, but there're very few pilots out there that come close to his skill level. Besides, he wasn't able to actually destroy it, just force it to withdraw. Granted, had the circumstances of the encounters been different, I bet he could've taken it down. Still, the fact of the matter is that whoever's flying that mobile suit has now survived three battles with the deadliest pilot in the world. That means they'll be even more dangerous the next time we encounter them on the battlefield."

Aisha nodded. "We'll be ready for them and anything else that the Earth Alliance or ZAFT throws at us."

The Desert Tiger looked out the window again. "I hope you're right."

….

Climbing out of the cockpit of her Wraith, Priscilla looked to her right as Adaline exited her machine. "Nice match."

Her red-headed friend smiled and nodded. "Thanks. You almost had me at the end there."

Priscilla sighed as the hatch closed behind her. "Close but no cigar. That's always how it ends up when I try to take you on in a simulator fight."

"Hey, don't be like that," said Adaline as she walked over and patted Priscilla on the shoulder, "I still can't beat you on the firing range, remember?"

Priscilla smiled. That was just like Adaline; she always tried to find a way to make someone feel better about themselves. It was one of the reasons why she was considered the unofficial second-in-command of the Valkyrie Team; she could help lift people up in a way that Priscilla and Lan couldn't.

"I guess so," Priscilla replied.

"Come on," said Adaline, "Let's go grab something to drink."

It didn't take the two of them long to get from the hangar to the Dominion's mess hall. After they each grabbed a water bottle they went out and headed for the battleship's topside observation deck.

It's too bad the ship's not outside, thought Priscilla as she leaned against the railing alongside Adaline, I'd like to look at something other than the dock. Oh, well. It can't be helped right now.

All around the ship, the dock crews were hustling about, making last minute touchups and topping off supplies and ammunition. Everyone knew that the Earth Alliance's deadline was almost up, and they wanted to be sure that they ships and mobile suits of Terminal were ready to go at a moment's notice.

"Too bad Lan couldn't join us for that last round," said Priscilla.

Adaline shrugged. "She was here earlier today and got her practice time in. With the way things are going, I can't really blame her for wanting to get a little more time together with Quatre before the shit hits the fan."

Priscilla smirked. "You know, it's kind of funny. Back when she was taking him out to the club we didn't want her to make a move on him. Now we're totally fine with her hooking up with him whenever she gets the chance."

Adaline smiled. "I know what you mean. Normally I'd still be against it, but… well, Quatre's not a normal guy. He's made Lan happier than I've seen her in a long time."

Priscilla nodded. "Yeah. Back when her mom died, it felt like part of Lan almost died with her. Now she's got it back, and it's all thanks to him."

Adaline sighed. "It's too bad we all know how it has to end. That's going to be rough on her."

"Lan's a big girl," Priscilla replied, "She knew what she was getting into; she can deal with the consequences when the time comes."

Adaline winced. "That's harsh. Didn't expect that from you, Pris."

Priscilla smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound that way. Lan's a grown woman, and she's well aware that Quatre can't stay here when this is all over. He's not like Heero; he actually has obligations and people back in his world that he can't abandon for good. She knows that she's in for some pain, but she's strong. She'll get through it, and we can help her. Besides, knowing Quatre, I'm sure he'll do all he can to be gentle about it when this fling of theirs comes to an end. It won't take the hurt away entirely, but he seems like the kind of guy who'd try his best to soften the blow and make sure that they part on good terms."

"That's true," said Adaline, "If nothing else, Quatre seems like just about the nicest guy out there. It's kind of funny to think of him that way when you consider that he's a Gundam pilot."

Priscilla laughed. "I know, right? I guess being around Heero for so long gave us a certain impression about how Gundam pilots from his world are supposed to be. The only one that's anything like Heero is Trowa, but honestly he just strikes me as shy more than anything else."

Adaline smirked. "Shy, but still pretty cute, wouldn't you agree?"

"No argument there," said Priscilla.

Adaline smiled. "Too bad he's not sticking around; otherwise I might make a play for him."

Priscilla nodded. "I hear you there."

"Well," said Adaline, "at least he'll be here for a little while. We can definitely use all the help we can get for what's coming our way."

"Yeah," said Priscilla softly, "The forces of the Earth Alliance and ZAFT might not be as large as they were in the last war, but… well, they still outnumber us by a ridiculous degree. We're in for an uphill fight, no doubt there."

Adaline nodded. "You'd think that after the last war the nations of this world wouldn't be so eager to plunge right into another one. It's hard to believe that the Atlantic Federation hates us that much."

Priscilla sighed. "I wonder how many people in their general population share the same views as Blue Cosmos. It's not fun thinking that there could be millions of people out there who want you dead just because of how you were born."

"No kidding," said Adaline, "What really bugs me is how these assholes managed to hold onto power after the war. How the hell did they not get voted out of office after the shit they tried to pull at Jachin Due?"

Priscilla shook her head. "You have to remember that the Atlantic Federation is really a pseudo-democracy at this point. With the way their system's set up, the plutocrats who buy into the agenda of Blue Cosmos pull most of the strings now. An opposition party still exists, but its best candidates for office have nasty habits of suffering fatal car crashes… at least when the rulers are feeling subtle, anyway."

Adaline chuckled ruefully. "So fear rules the day the North America… not all that different from when Zala ran the PLANTs, really."

Priscilla nodded. "Another problem is that the real power players in the Atlantic Federation are good at covering their tracks. If they were truly exposed for the monsters that they are I bet the majority of the population would be furious and try to oust them, but they don't leave a whole lot of evidence lying around. The independent press has been more or less gutted, and anyone within the government that speaks out is labeled a traitor and has to go into exile."

"Toe the party line or be hunted for the rest of your life," said Adaline grimly, "Makes you really feel bad for the Archangel crew, doesn't it?"

"They were set up to die at Alaska," Priscilla replied, "They had more reason than most to leave their country behind."

"No kidding," said Adaline, "The Atlantic Federation, ZAFT… both just viewed soldiers as disposable pawns in the last war. It'll probably be the same for this one, too."

Priscilla nodded. "It will. That's why Terminal has to show that there's another option. We gained so many defectors from both sides in the last war that we were able to build up our own fleet. If we can demonstrate our commitment to ending this war by defending people regardless of race and show that we value soldiers as more than merely expendable assets, we can grow our ranks and openly challenge both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT. The Atlantic Federation is trying to dominate the narrative; we have to push back."

Adaline smiled. "You're starting to sound like Lacus, you know that?"

Priscilla couldn't help but blush. "You think so?"

"A little bit," said Adaline, "I know that she's big on challenging the narratives of the major powers and trying to get our message out there. We've had to lay low to avoid causing problems for Orb, but if fighting starts up again then we can act more openly. Depending on how things play out, we might actually have a chance to do more than just face off against the Alliance and ZAFT on the battlefield; we could shake things up internally if we can expose more people to our ideals and give them the courage to act."

Priscilla smiled. "Well, if Lacus wants to do that, I wish her luck. That's outside of my expertise, though."

Adaline smirked. "I hear you there. Blowing stuff up is what we're good at. Why not stick with it for a while longer?"

Priscilla shrugged. "We might as well. We'll be doing plenty of it real soon."

Sooner than I'd like, she silently added, We knew that there was a chance this peace could end, but none of us imagined that it would be so soon. It's too late for us to change that, though. All we can do now is make the ones who shatter this peace regret that they did so. One way or another, they're going to answer to us for what they've done.

….

A confident smile on his face, Quatre moved his black rook forward. "Checkmate."

Leaning forward to carefully study the board, Lan's eyes widened when she saw that he indeed had her beat. "Son of a bitch… that's the third time in a row! I thought you said that you would take it easy on me after the last round!"

Quatre laughed. "I did take it easy on you! You lasted much longer this time than you did the last round, didn't you?"

Lan sighed as she flicked her white king onto its side. "I guess so. Damn it, I was really hoping for a win!"

"Well, you did tell me that you didn't want a freebie," Quatre replied, "You said that you wanted to work for it, so I'm trying to oblige."

Lan smiled. "I know. I guess strategy games really aren't my thing."

"For what it's worth," said Quatre, "you're definitely getting better. I've just been playing this for longer than you. So, do you want to go another round?"

Lan leaned back and shook her head. "I'll pass. Getting my butt kicked three times in a row's enough for one day."

Quatre nodded. "If you insist."

He started picking up the chess pieces and putting them back in the box. Despite her defeats Lan still couldn't help but smile as she watched her foe clean up; Quatre was just too cute to stay mad at.

"So," said Lan, "how'd you get so good at this?"

"My father was the one who introduced me to the game," he replied, "He said he wanted me to learn to appreciate the need for planning ahead, and this was his way to do it."

"And you stuck with it?" asked Lan, raising an eyebrow, "I thought you and your old man didn't really see eye to eye."

Quatre shook his head. "We had our differences, but I didn't fight him on every little thing. I happen to like the game, and I picked it up pretty quickly."

Lan smirked. "I bet. You're not just a rich boy with a cute face, after all."

She had the satisfaction of seeing him blush slightly. "Thanks."

I never get tired of seeing that look on his face, she thought, more than a little amused, and it's so easy to get him to show it.

"Want to grab a drink?" he asked, "I know it's still a little early, but I'm up for one if you are."

Lan smiled. "Sounds like I'm rubbing off on you. Okay then, let's go."

Setting the game aside, the two of them went downstairs to the kitchen. Lan went straight for the wine and proceeded to pour two glasses.

"Anything you want to toast?" asked Lan.

Quatre nodded and smiled as he raised his glass. "To a good game."

Lan chuckled as she tapped her glass against his. "Yeah, for you, maybe."

They each took a sip before leaning against the counter next to each other. Gently grabbing his hand, Lan leaned over and kissed him on the cheek as she simply enjoyed his company.

This is probably the last chance we'll get for a while to do something like this, she thought, Man, where did the time go?

Neither of them wanted to openly admit what they already knew; by the time tonight was over, the world would be at war again. After two years of peace, how did one dive back into another global conflict? They had already done all that they reasonably could to prepare, and Lan simply wanted now to make as much of the time she had left with Quatre before the two of them jumped into the coming conflagration.

"So," she said, "how do you think it's going to play out? Up in orbit when the fireworks start, I mean."

Quatre closed his eyes as he took a sip of his wine. "That's hard to say. Bristow and Waltfeld seem confident that ZAFT's developed a defense against ZAFT's nukes. It would certainly make military sense for them to invest in one, but we have no idea as to how effective it really is. If it works, then I imagine the action up in space will become a stalemate since the Earth forces' offensive will have been blunted. Otherwise… well, those 'fireworks' that you mentioned will be large enough to spot from down here, I imagine."

Lan shuddered. "Talk about a buzz kill. I wish I hadn't brought it up."

Quatre shook his head. "It's something we have to consider. There's no sense in hiding from it."

Lan nodded. "Right. So, what's your money on? Countermeasure or the PLANTs getting wiped out?"

There was a thoughtful silence for a moment before he replied. "Countermeasure. Durandal strikes me as the type to give serious thought to something like that. I don't know for sure if two years would be enough time for his administration to develop an effective one, but my money's on ZAFT having something up its sleeves."

Lan sighed. "Either way, I suppose it doesn't affect us very much. Our first action in this war's going to be down on the surface. For us it really all depends on whether or not the Alliance just goes after Carpentaria or if they decide to attack Orb as well."

"I know," said Quatre, "From everything we've learned so far, it sounds like the Atlantic Federation is well on its way to subverting the Orb Union's leadership thanks to the Seirans. Depending on how far their influence reaches, it's entirely possible that the Earth Alliance will see Orb as more or less on their side and simply move on towards Carpentaria."

Lan scowled. "Sons of bitches… I really want to kill those bastards."

"I doubt you're alone there," said Quatre, "but we can't just take them out without being able to prove their corruption to those that Cagalli would still have to work with in her government. Whether we like it or not, we can't go after them just yet."

Lan nodded. "I know. What about the Minerva? That ship's still here, after all. Won't the Alliance raise a stink over that?"

"I imagine so," Quatre replied, "and if the Seirans really are trying to get on the good side of the Atlantic Federation, then they'll probably find a way to sell out the Minerva to them. It's the most advanced ship in ZAFT's fleet, so the Earth Alliance would see it as quite the prize."

Lan sighed. "After the last war, I'm not exactly ZAFT's biggest fan, but still… from what you and the other Gundam pilots have said it sounds like the crew of that ship are good people. I don't like the thought of the Seirans handing them over to the Earth Alliance on a silver platter."

Quatre shook his head. "Nor do I. If there's a way for us to help them then I think we should. I doubt Cagalli would approve of any action against them after what they did up in orbit, but there's always the chance that someone could go behind her back. We'll just have to watch carefully and try to give them enough of a warning so they'll have a chance to make a break for it."

"I hope we don't end up having to fight them later on," said Lan, "That'd probably be awkward for you guys after helping them out up in orbit."

Quatre shrugged. "If it happens, we'll deal with that when the time comes. I'll do what I have to, and I'm sure that Heero and the others feel the same way."

"What about Wufei?" asked Lan, "He stuck with the Minerva instead of coming here with you guys, right? Do you think that he'd be on your side if you had to fight against that ship?"

Quatre sighed. "Wufei's always done things his own way. To be honest, he's more of a wild card than any other Gundam pilot. I think I've got an idea as to why he stuck with the Minerva after the orbital battle, but it's hard to say for sure… and it's hard to tell if that's enough of a reason for him to stick with that ship's crew if we end up having to fight against them."

Lan smirked. "The wild card of the wild cards, eh? That's saying something. When Heero first showed up in our world, the biggest challenge was figuring out what he'd do next; he really didn't make it easy to predict his moves."

Quatre chuckled. "Well, that's what us Gundam pilots do best; we keep everyone else on their toes."

Lan smiled as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, you won't hear me complaining about that. I may not be looking forward to a new war, but I'm not gonna lie; I can't wait to see what you and your friends are capable of when you take on the world."

Quatre smiled in return. "I'll try not to disappoint, then."

Lan raised her glass. "Here's to knocking our enemies flat on their asses!"

Quatre laughed as he tapped his glass with hers. "I'll drink to that."

….

Down in the underground hangar, Duo looked up at the fearsome demon that was Deathscythe Omega and smiled. "It doesn't matter what world we're in, old buddy; it looks like I'll be the God of Death for some time to come."

"There aren't many people out there who would embrace that title so casually," said the voice of an old friend from behind him.

Duo chuckled as Trowa came up next to him. "What can I say? I like the ring it has. Besides, black is the color of death, and my buddy and I wear it so well."

Trowa smirked. "Hard to argue with that."

"You know," said Duo, "I was a little skeptical about the staff here working on my Gundam, even if it was just routine maintenance, but I gotta say, they've done pretty well. About as good as Howard's crew, I think. How's Heavyarms Arsenal?"

"Quite well," Trowa replied, "I agree with your assessment of the staff; Engineer Simmons tapped the right people to work here. She's quite talented in her own right, too."

Duo grinned. "No kidding. I bet her and Howard would really hit it off. The old man's gonna kick himself when I tell him what he missed out on!"

Trowa shrugged. "Maybe, but I bet he'd be fine with not getting involved in another war like we're about to be. This wasn't our original mission, after all."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "Having second thoughts?"

Trowa shook his head. "No, just trying to keep things in perspective. I agree that helping this world survive the coming conflagration is the right thing to do. We just can't allow ourselves to lose sight of where we're from and where we belong. Heero found a new home for himself here, and I believe he's found a sense of belonging here that he could never find in our old world. However, it's not the same for the rest of us. We have people and obligations waiting for us back in our world."

Duo nodded and smiled. "I know. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten. After all, I've got a wife waiting for me when this is all over… not to mention Duo Jr.!"

Trowa chuckled. "Do you really think that Hilde's going to go along with that name if you two have a boy?"

"She will if I never shut up about it!" said Duo with a grin, "She'll surrender out of sheer frustration."

"Don't underestimate her," said Trowa, "She can hold her ground pretty well when she want to."

Duo laughed. "Believe me; I know that better than anyone!"

"Good," said Trowa, "So you'd better have some backup names ready when she shoots you down for good."

Duo folded his arms. "Hey! Have a little faith, man!"

Trowa shrugged. "We'll see."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Like you would know anything about this. I haven't exactly seen you make a play for a girl. Hell, even Quatre managed to hook up with someone! Sure, that one's temporary, but it's still better than your track record."

"I haven't had the opportunity for romance," Trowa replied, "and I'm not actively seeking it out."

"Oh, come on, dude!" said Duo, "What's wrong with you? You're not just a Gundam pilot; you're an acrobat in the circus and the guy Catherine throws knives at! You can't tell me that you haven't had a few girls send you some signals."

"If they have," Trowa replied, "I haven't noticed."

Duo shook his head. "Of course not. I really should expect that from you; sometimes you're as dense as Heero."

"It's not a matter of awareness," said Trowa, "It's just not something I've found myself interested in yet."

Duo grinned. "Well, maybe this world will fix that. We're going to be here for a while, after all, and it's about to get pretty noisy; I bet in the middle of all the fireworks we can find a girl who'll be up for a wartime fling with you!"

Trowa smirked. "Are you making that your mission?"

"I might have to at this rate," Duo shot back as he punched his friend on the shoulder, "Seriously, Trowa; you need to get laid!"

"And you think a world at war's the time and place for that?" asked Trowa dryly.

"Why not?" Duo replied, "There're plenty of chicks out there who'll go for that. You just gotta find one of them!"

"That kind of 'chick' doesn't strike me as my type," said Trowa.

Duo raised an eyebrow. "So you do have a type, then? Care to elaborate, buddy?"

"Not to you," Trowa quipped.

Duo chuckled. "That figures. Well, at least it's a start."

"A 'start' would imply that it can go somewhere," said Trowa, "I highly doubt that'll be happening while we're in this world, so don't get your hopes up."

Duo shook his head. "Come on, man, don't be like that! You gotta keep an open mind about this sort of thing. After all, you never know when a good girl's gonna pop up. You have to be flexible and go with the flow!"

Trowa rolled his eyes. "For the sake of argument, let's say that I did find a girl in this world that I might like. That doesn't change the fact that we're not sticking around here. Any sort of dalliance will inevitably have to end. I'd rather avoid causing undue distress for a woman, which is further incentive for me to avoid the scenario you want me to pursue."

"It's not 'undue distress' if the girl knows what she's getting into!" Duo countered, "If she knows it's just a temporary thing from the get-go then it'll be totally fine!"

Trowa folded his arms. "And how am I supposed to tell this hypothetical woman that it's strictly temporary? I thought we weren't supposed to be advertising the fact that we're not from this world."

"Well," said Duo, "if it's one who's part of this organization, then that keeps things simple. There're a few cuties who work on the maintenance staff down here, and I wouldn't be surprised if a few more single ladies were on the Archangel or the Dominion. I bet any of them would be up for a roll in the hay with a Gundam pilot! After all, thanks to Heero we've already got a bit of a reputation with this crowd. You might as well take advantage of it!"

Trowa shook his head. "I'd prefer not to mix business with pleasure. We need to have a good working relationship with Terminal while we're here, and I'd rather avoid causing any unnecessary complications."

Duo sighed. "You're just not going to make this easy, are you? I'm trying to help you hook up here! You could at least throw me a bone, buddy!"

"You might find that sort of thing appealing," said Trowa, "I don't."

"Is that really you talking," said Trowa, "or would that be Catherine's opinion? Come on, Trowa; I know she's been good to you, but you can't just go along with whatever she might want you to do."

"If I did that," Trowa shot back, "I wouldn't be here right now. Catherine wasn't exactly in favor of our expedition, after all."

Duo nodded. "True, but you know what I mean. She's way too protective of you, man! You gotta spread your wings and fly sooner or later."

"I'm more than capable of asserting myself," Trowa countered, "I just don't see the point in giving into my impulses without an eye for the consequences. I would think that you could understand that, seeing as how you're the only married Gundam pilot among us. I doubt that Hilde would agree with the advice you've been giving."

Duo grinned. "Well, this isn't about me and her. This is about you. If you're not going to take a chance and live life to the fullest while we're out here, then when will you?"

"At a time and place that suits me, and not you," Trowa replied as he turned and headed off towards his Gundam, "Later, Duo."

Duo smirked as he watched his friend leave. "Later, buddy. Don't go thinking that I've given up on you, though. I don't care if it's during a world war; I'm going to find you chick that you can have some fun with whether you like it or not!"

….

"Thirsty?" said Murrue as she put her hand on Heero's shoulder.

He turned around in his chair and nodded as he accepted the water bottle she passed to him. "Thanks. I guess I lost track of time for a little while there."

The two of them were upstairs in the spacious room that they shared at Terminal's estate. It was one of the most luxurious set of accommodations Heero had ever experienced, and one of the things he appreciated about the room was the workstation that had been set up for him and Murrue. It had a direct link to the data analysis room located in the bunker complex, so any information stored down there could be securely forwarded up here for ease of viewing. This was what Heero was taking advantage of now, and in fact he had been so focused on the intelligence files on the screen that he'd barely been aware of his lover entering the room.

Murrue smiled as she sat down on the edge of the desk. "I'll say. You've been staring at the screen there for a couple hours now. It's almost time for dinner. My mother came over to cook with Akila tonight, so you'd better not plan on being late."

Heero couldn't help but chuckle. "And incur your mother's wrath? I'd rather go another round with the Galm Team than upset her. Don't worry; I have no intention of being late for dinner."

Murrue leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Good. She really does enjoy cooking for us, so I'd hate for you to miss out on it."

Heero nodded. "So would I. She's quite talented."

Murrue smirked. "She is, but flattery won't save you if you're late. She won't care what you've been reading up here, either."

"Really?" he replied, "She wouldn't care that I've been studying the enemies that we could end up fighting against? I'd think that she would appreciate that I'm doing that so I can help keep you and your ship safe."

"Is that what Eric sent you?" asked Murrue as she leaned closer to get a better look at the screen, "I thought you were going through the appropriations and construction figures that he showed us earlier."

Heero shook his head. "No. This is actually data that we got from his informants in ZAFT's reconnaissance forces. They're really our best source of intelligence on Earth Alliance fleet buildups and movement since we lack similar contacts within their organization."

"I see," said Murrue, her eyes narrowing, "Is this the armada they're going to launch against L5?"

Heero nodded. "I know we won't be engaging them directly, but depending on how the battle for the PLANTs goes we could end up facing off against part of this force somewhere down the line, so I wanted to see what fleet units were attached to it."

"Find anything interesting?" asked Murrue.

"A few items, actually," said Heero as he turned back to his laptop, "The fleet's composition is pretty mixed; there are quite a few veteran units assigned to it. A lot of them are survivors from the last battle at Jachin Due. There are still plenty of warships and mobile suit squadrons that have raw recruits for crews and pilots, but the armada does have an experienced core to provide leadership and backbone when the fighting starts."

"ZAFT might have a problem there," said Murrue grimly, "I'm sure they've got plenty of experienced soldiers acting with their home defense battle groups, but from what Eric's reported they've also seen a major influx of new recruits. The force out at Armory One was an example of that. It's hard to know how they'll hold up under heavy assault, and ZAFT's going to need a disciplined force if they want to have a chance to deploy their countermeasure against the Alliance's nukes."

Heero nodded. "Agreed. ZAFT can't count on technological superiority alone to win the day, either; the Earth forces have made a great deal of progress with mobile suit development over the past two years. Both sides can field units that are capable of assuming a variety of combat roles; we can blame Kira's old Strike unit for inspiring that."

Murrue sighed. "Imitation is the highest form of flattery after all. The mass production units may not have Phase Shift Armor, but in the hands of experienced pilots they can still be dangerous. It's going to get ugly real quickly once the Alliance crosses the Zero Line."

"No argument there," Heero replied, "I found another interesting bit of information in here, too; ZAFT was finally able to identify the flagship of the Earth Alliance armada. Turns out it's the Victory."

Murrue's eyes widened. "You mean it's operational now? I thought it was still undergoing trial cruises!"

"So did I," said Heero, "It looks like they commissioned it ahead of schedule. I guess the higher ups really wanted it to take part in the opening attack of the war."

His fingers danced across the keyboard, and a new image quickly dominated the screen. At first glance, the ship in question bore a striking similarity to the older model Agamemnon-class carrier that still held such a prominent role in the Earth Alliance space forces. The hull design mirrored the rounded-triangle frame used by the Agamemnon-class, and it also shared the upraised bridge and stern extended engine housing as well. However, there were key distinctions, the most important being the size; the Victory was three times the length of its predecessor. It also had a heavier armament, which consisted of six topside Gottfried Mk. 71 225cm High-energy Dual Beam Cannons, with two more of the weapons mounted on the ship's belly. This was still a light main battery for a warship of its size, which made it clear that this new ship's primary role was not direct engagement but to act as a fleet carrier. The antiaircraft fit was heavier than that of the Agamemnon-class carrier as well, consisting of 38 Vulcan Guns for rapid fire close defense and two batteries of ten light anti-air missile launchers each, which were arrayed in rows flanking the bridge. For deploying its mobile suits the carrier employed six linear catapults. Four of them were towards the bow, set up with two catapults topside and two underneath, while further back there was one on each side at the widest point of the hull.

The Victory was the namesake ship of the Atlantic Federation's new Victory-class heavy fleet carrier. It was meant as an answer to ZAFT's monumental Gondwana, but while the Victory was smaller and deficient to its Coordinator counterpart in sheer size, armament, armor, and mobile suit capacity it did have a key advantage over the pride of the PLANTs' armed forces; it was easier to construct. The Victory was the first ship of her class to come online, but from news reports Heero knew that the Atlantic Federation already had at least one sister ship for her undergoing final fitting at the L2 shipyards, and a third was not too far behind. That was the price ZAFT paid for going for qualitative overmatch with its heavy capital ships; they could not be produced at the same rate as their Earth Alliance counterparts, and that was without factoring in the treaty restrictions.

"If they've commissioned the Victory early," said Murrue, "then the Earth Alliance is redoubling the weight that they're putting into this opening assault. They really want a first round knockout this time."

Heero nodded. "If they're going to deploy nukes, then it'd be reasonable to assume that a fair amount of them will be held on that ship. They'll fix launchers and warheads to its mobile suits prior to the engagement, and then once both fleets have mixed it up and opened gaps in the defenses they'll deploy for their strike."

"Do we know who's commanding the fleet?" asked Murrue.

Heero shook his head. "No, but for a strike this big I'd assume that the Atlantic Federation has a member of its High Command heading up the assault."

"That would make sense," said Murrue, "Are there any signs of our old friends from the orbital fight?"

"Not that I can tell," Heero replied, "but since Natarle destroyed their battleship they now lack a distinctive vessel. Their surviving mobile suits might be unique, but they could have those stored away within any vessel in the fleet. We won't know if any of them have been assigned to the armada until the fireworks start. Well, all except for Samuel Rodrigues; thanks to my recon flight we know that he's at the Pearl Harbor naval base along with the rest of Desperado's heavy hitters. Actually, with the Pacific Fleet on the move he could be with them now. Either way, he's not up in space."

"Small favors," said Murrue, "If Rodrigues was skilled enough to survive two fights with Wufei then ZAFT should be grateful that he won't be part of the force attacking their homeland."

"No argument there," said Heero, "but the pilot with the gun-drone machine could be operating with the armada, and he could cause some problems for the defenders."

"ZAFT should have data on that mobile suit from the previous encounters," Murrue countered, "They have to have forwarded it to their front line commanders so they can be prepared for a possible engagement."

"It's one thing to have data on an enemy's capabilities," said Heero, "It's another to actually face off against them. A few of ZAFT's pilots show promise, but as things stand right now I don't think Durandal's regime has anyone capable of taking that unit's pilot on in single combat. The last war pretty much cleaned out their top pilots; they either defected or were taken down by us."

"They do have Athrun back with them now," said Murrue, "Sure, they had a warrant for treason on his head, but from what you've told me so far Durandal doesn't sound like the type to act on that if he can avoid it. I'm betting that he's already found a use for Athrun's skills as a pilot. At the very least he has to recognize that his armed forces only benefit by allowing Athrun to rejoin their front line units."

Heero shook his head. "Athrun's good, but his ability to fight back against more powerful units will depend on the kind of mobile suit ZAFT lets him fly. If it's just a regular ZAKU or ZAKU Phantom then he might be able to fight a delaying action at best, but the gun-drone unit is nuclear powered; it completely outclasses conventional machines, and its pilot is top tier. If Athrun doesn't have a more advanced unit in the event that he clashes with that machine, then his victory is in doubt."

"Do you think he knows that?" asked Murrue.

Heero nodded. "Athrun might've been overestimating himself when he decided to return to the PLANTs to try to influence current events, but he's not a fool; he recognizes the limits of his combat capabilities. If he had a unit like the Justice then I would give him much better odds against the gun-drone mobile suit, but with a more conventional machine it'll be all he can do just to keep himself alive. Fortunately, he seems to have a knack for survival even under the worst circumstances. In that respect, he definitely qualifies as a Gundam pilot."

Murrue smiled. "High praise, coming from the best of the original five to hold that title."

Heero couldn't help but smirk. "Flattery? You know that doesn't work on me, Murrue."

She leaned down and kissed him. "I know, but I'm still allowed to try, aren't I?"

"You won't hear me complaining," Heero replied.

"Thought so," said Murrue before she became serious again, "So, did you find anything else in there?"

"Nothing of major importance," said Heero as he exited the file and shut down the monitor, "At this point our most immediate priority is confirming where the Pacific Fleet will strike, and the data here was focused on the orbital forces. They won't be in position to attack either Orb or Carpentaria in synch with the space forces' assault on L5, but soon they'll have to alter their heading and begin making their final approach, and that's when we'll know what their target is. That's the force that we have to be ready to fight."

Murrue nodded. "We are ready. I know that we're outnumbered, but that's never stopped us in the past. We're stronger now than we were two years ago, and regardless of what the Pacific Fleet's target is we won't be fighting alone. It won't be easy, but we can do this."

Her confidence was reassuring, and despite the gravity of the situation Heero could still feel a small smile sneak its way onto his face. "We've never been ones to take the easy road before; there's no reason why that should change now."

Murrue smiled as well. "If the Alliance hated fighting us in the last war, they're going to be enraged when they realize what it means to go up against you and the rest of the Gundam pilots. What their black ops forces experienced up in orbit was just a taste of what you're capable of."

"Don't go giving us all the credit," Heero replied, "After all, we're going to have you and your ship backing us up, and our enemy still hasn't seen all of what the new Archangel's capable of."

"We did give them a good taste of her new power in the orbital battle," said Murrue, "but you're right; it's not the same ship that turned against them in the last war. She's a whole new beast, and she'll make them pay dearly for starting another war."

"I'd expect nothing less," said Heero.

He then saw her look out the window, the smile fading from her face. "We may be ready for a new conflict, but… we can't keep living like this, Heero. Going from one war to the next, with just a brief lull to rest and heal our wounds… this isn't the way people are meant to spend their lives."

Heero shook his head as he stood up. "It's not the way I want to spend my life, but… well, the concept of peace itself is still pretty new to me. Over the past two years you've given me a glimpse of what it means, and I'm grateful for that. However, the shadow of another global war was always there in the background. We knew that both sides would rebuild and rearm; we hadn't eliminated the root cause of the last conflict. We just forced a change in leadership. In light of that, the 'peace' that we brought to this world… I'm no expert, but I don't think that it was the genuine article."

Murrue sighed. "I wish you were wrong. I wanted so badly for you to experience the world that I knew before the Bloody Valentine War. I wanted you to understand and live the peace that your world denied you. I still want that, more than almost anything else in the world, but… I don't want it to have to be us that have to keep fighting for it. We've already done more than enough!"

"Murrue…" said Heero, his eyes widening slightly.

She turned towards him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Heero, I'll fight alongside you to bring peace to this world again, but I won't keep fighting forever. I want us to have a life beyond the battlefield. I want us to leave our warships and mobile suits behind one day, but I have to know that you're truly committed to reaching that day as well. I know that you want peace, but at the same time I also understand how much your Gundam means to you. It brought you to this world and has helped you save my life more times than I can count. I'm grateful for that, I truly am, but I don't want you to hold onto Wing Zero forever. Heero, when the day comes for us to finally leave the battlefield behind for good… I want you to destroy that machine. That's the only way that you'll truly be free from a life of combat. Wing Zero's power is a great gift, but it's also a curse; it's what binds you to the battlefield. I wish that I could be the one to free you from it, but I can't do that by myself; you have to play your part too. I'll continue to stand by your side and do all I can to help you, but I need a commitment from you as well. I need you to promise me that one day you will destroy Wing Zero."

Heero closed his eyes. What she was asking him to do was far from easy for him to accept. Yes, he had something of a reputation for self-detonating mobile suits, and in the final battle of his old war he had been willing to destroy Wing Zero and himself along with it if it meant saving the Earth from the falling ruins of the giant battleship Libra; only the timely intervention of Zechs Merquise had prevented him from going through with that course of action. Had destroying his Gundam been necessary during the Bloody Valentine War to save Murrue's life, Heero knew that he would've done it in a heartbeat.

This was different, though. He'd had this Gundam for over two years now, and while he wasn't normally the type to get sentimental about a mobile suit it was impossible to deny that there were some very real ties between himself and Wing Zero. It wasn't just another machine; it had brought him to the Cosmic Era and had given him the power to not only survive the hellish war this world had been engulfed in but also to defend his new friends and the woman he'd fallen in love with. In its upgraded form it gave him even more strength to pursue those same ends, and it was not a power that he could throw aside lightly.

However, he could not deny that Murrue's point was quite valid; as long as Wing Zero was in his possession, he would never truly be free from his life of combat. The power it gave him, the temptation to wield its strength, was too great, even if he would do so to defend the world and those closest to him. That power also served as a threat to the world, so much so that an entire clause of the Treaty of Junius Seven had been devoted to its removal. Terminal may have circumvented that clause by destroying a dummy before the eyes of the world, but Heero had to admit that the concerns underlying that portion of the treaty had some real validity to them. Wing Zero was both a guardian angel and a wrathful demon, and its very existence would continue to tie him to his identity as a Gundam pilot. As long as it was around, he would never truly be liberated from the call of the battlefield.

I told Murrue that I wanted to experience life beyond combat, he thought, I wanted to convince her that I was ready for peace, especially one that I could enjoy with her. It's not enough for me to simply say that and fight for it, though. I should've realized that long ago. My actions have to prove that I'm ready to embrace peace not for my sake, but for hers as well… and there's only one way to do that. It's not time yet, but someday it will be.

"Heero?" said Murrue, cautiously putting her hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and met her gaze. "Murrue… you're right. I hadn't considered things that way before, but your analysis is correct; as long as I hold onto Wing Zero, then I'm not truly committing myself to a new life with you in peace. Part of me would still belong to the battlefield, and that's the last thing I want."

Murrue smiled. "I thought as much. I've always believed you when you've told me that you wanted to find out what peace really means; that you want to move beyond a life of conflict. I want you to do that, but there's only so much that I can do to help you with that."

Heero nodded. "I know. You deserve a commitment that goes beyond just words after all you've done for me. I can't say for sure when the day will come; we are about to jump into another war, after all. However, I promise that one day I'll get rid of Wing Zero. When the time comes, I'll destroy it myself."

Murrue leaned in and kissed him. "I'm going to hold you to that."

Heero gave her a small smile in return. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good," she replied, "If we're really going to build a life together beyond the battlefield, then I can't have that machine lingering behind you like a shadow. It may be part of your past and your present, but it doesn't belong in a future where you'll truly know peace."

"I agree," said Heero, "but before I do that, I want to make sure that the world will be safe for you and the others. I know that we can't make things perfect, but I think we can at least secure a lasting peace."

Murrue nodded. "I'm with you there. Whether I like it or not, we are going to need Wing Zero's power for the immediate future. However, we won't need it forever. Once we know that the threat has truly passed and the world is ready to move forward into a new era, it'll be time to wrap things up. The age of the Gundams has to end sometime, after all."

"I know," said Heero, "and I think the other pilots do too. However… we'll end it on our terms. They're our machines; we'll be the ones to bring their chapters to a close."

"I would expect nothing less," said Murrue, "and I'll be right there by your side when that day comes."

Heero smirked. "You'd better be. You've never seen a Gundam self-detonate; it's one hell of a fireworks show. I'd hate for you to miss it."

Murrue laughed. "And you would know that better than most, wouldn't you?"

Heero shrugged. "Maybe."

Murrue smiled again and nodded. "All right, then. It's a promise. One day Wing Zero's time will come to a close, and I'll be right there with you so we can send it off with a bang."

"Sounds good," said Heero, "I think it deserves that much, at least."

"I agree," Murrue replied, "It helped you make your mark on this world. I think the very least we can do is help it go out with style."

Heero nodded. "And... what comes after that?"

Murrue leaned forward and kissed him. "The future, Heero. Our future."

Heero gave her a small smile. "Roger that."

….

Start "The Imperial March"

Up in orbit, just across the demarcation between Alliance and ZAFT space known as the Zero Line, an armada the likes of which had not been seen in over two years was massed. At just over a thousand vessels strong, the combined fleets composed roughly thirty percent of the Earth Alliance's total fighting strength. Floating in the void like a vast group of sharks waiting for the start of a massive feeding frenzy, the armada held representatives of every ship class currently available to the Earth forces. Drake-class escort ships and Typhoon-class destroyers made up the outer screen, while just beyond them was the force's core of Nelson-class battleships and Agamemnon-class carriers. Mobile suits flitted about on their assigned patrol routes like flies amongst dragons, the blue fires of their thrusters creating the illusion of tiny comets. At the very heart of the armada was a vessel that dwarfed them all; the nine-hundred meter flagship Victory.

Standing on the bridge of the new heavy fleet carrier was Colonel Nazara. His arms folded, he looked out the viewport with a smile as he observed the massed warships. While this force paled in comparison to the armada that he had been part of two years ago in the final battle of the last war, it was still an imposing fleet, one that Phantom Pain's commander could not wait to see unleashed against the enemy.

Your hour is almost at hand, L5, he thought, imagining that he could see the hourglass colonies in the distance, I wonder… how will you react when you see that your end is nigh, Durandal? Oh, what I would not give to see the look on your face when we unleash this armada's secret arsenal. There will be no Wing Zero to save you this time; the Pacific Fleet has the Demon Lord of Avalon pinned in Orb. There might've been a few hiccups before, but now events are back on track.

The scars beneath his mask throbbed at the thought of his personal nemesis. Not for the first time, he wondered if Wing Zero's pilot was aware of the fact that the first time they had met in combat was not at Armory One, but at Jachin Due. Did the greatest of all the thorns in his side realize that he was crossing swords with a phantom from the last war, or was Nazara an unknown rival to the Angel of Ruin? Would the living legend finally connect the dots the next time they encountered one another on the battlefield, or would he remain in the dark?

At this moment, it did not matter. All that was important was that the greatest threat to his plans was currently preoccupied. How long Heero Yuy would remain checked by the Pacific Fleet was impossible to say, but for now it was enough that Wing Zero would not be able to intervene in the opening battle of the new war. The stage was set for a grand clash of armadas, and this time there would be no pesky third parties to disrupt the brawl between the Earth Alliance and ZAFT.

"Magnificent…" he whispered.

"Colonel Nazara!" called the ship's communication's officer, "You have an incoming transmission, Priority One!"

That will be Djibril, he thought, more than a little irritated, He does love to micromanage…

"Very well," he said, "I'll take it in the private comm suite. If Admiral Wallace asks for me, tell him that I'm engaged with our mutual benefactor."

The comms officer nodded. "Understood, Colonel."

Turning away from the viewport, the Phantom Commander headed for the exit. It took him just a minute to enter the comm suite and lock it before activating the sophisticated holoprojector that occupied the center of the chamber. Nazara had to fight a grimace as the image of Lord Djibril appeared. The way he sat so arrogantly reminded Nazara of a king whose pride had long overtaken his intellect, and the Colonel could only take comfort in the knowledge that someday he would assume his rightful place as ruler of Djibril's domain.

Sooner rather than later, of course, he mused, and if I have it my way, the transfer of power will not be a peaceful one…

"Lord Djibril," he said, "I wondered when we would hear from you. The deadline set by President Copeland is still a few hours away."

Djibril smiled. "Of course it is… and you and I both know that we never intended to wait up until the last minute to kick off this show."

Despite his hatred of the man who dared believe he was in a position to command him, Nazara could not help but grin. "So it's finally time... at long last."

Djibril nodded. "Indeed. Is the armada ready?"

"It can launch at your command, my lord," said Nazara, for once using the title without biting back sarcasm.

Djibril nodded. "Good. Is Admiral Wallace on the bridge?"

Nazara shook his head. "No, he's in his quarters. No doubt dictating another page of his odious memoirs."

Djibril chuckled. "Well, he'll have quite the page to add to them when this battle is over. Summon him to the bridge; let's get this show on the road."

"And what of President Copeland?" said Nazara with a smirk, "He'll throw quite the fit when he realizes that we've crossed the Zero Line early."

Djibril waved his hand dismissively. "His thoughts on this matter are irrelevant. He can deal with the fallout however he sees fit; if nothing else, he's at least proven himself to be an adequate spin doctor."

"True enough," said Nazara, "Is there anything else, my lord?"

Djibril grinned. "No. March on the Coordinator homeland. Wipe them out. Leave none alive."

Nazara nodded, a cruel smile gracing his visage. "It will be done, my lord."

The hologram disappeared, and Nazara wasted no time in returning to the bridge.

"Contact the Admiral," he ordered the comms officer, "Tell him if his ass isn't on this bridge in five minutes I'm going to shoot him. And yes, quote me verbatim on that, if you would be so kind."

Not even waiting for a reply, he headed for his seat. It was right next to the Admiral's chair and was level with it, symbolizing that even though Nazara technically had the lower rank his authority was at the very least equal with that of the fleet's official commanding officer.

Much to his surprise, it only took the Admiral two minutes to make it to the bridge. Nazara didn't even both to spare the graying fleet officer a glance; his gaze remained focus on the grand armada just out the window.

"Colonel!" Admiral Gregory Wallace huffed, "Just who the hell do you think you are? The Victory is my ship; I will not allow an outsider to order me around on it!"

Nazara chuckled. "Spare me the melodrama and wounded pride, Admiral; we both know who's really calling the shots here. Let's not waste another moment with trivial theatrics."

The Admiral sat down next to the Colonel. "So, it really is time, then? So much for waiting for the official deadline."

"We're only going a few hours early," said Nazara, "It doesn't really make a difference, does it?"

"Not to our goal," the Admiral replied, "but global opinion…"

"Is irrelevant," Nazara swiftly finished for him, "By the time this war is over 'global opinion' will be whatever the Atlantic Federation says it is. This is the beginning of our march to glory, Admiral; let us not delay it a second longer than necessary."

Wallace nodded. "In that case, I shall address the fleet."

"Feel free," said Nazara, doing his best to suppress a grimace; the Admiral had a reputation for being a windbag, and the Colonel prayed that he would at least keep his remarks brief.

Wallace tapped a few keys on the pad built into the right arm of his chair, setting up a fleet-wide broadcast. "Soldiers of the Earth Alliance, this is your commanding officer, Admiral Wallace!"

"Here we go," Nazara muttered under his breath.

"For too long, we have allowed our enemies to rest in the comfort and security of L5," he continued, "They sit in luxury in their colonies while plotting to bring Armageddon to our precious world! The Break The World Incident was just the first attempt at wiping us out; they will try again and again until all that we hold dear has been destroyed! In order to defend our beautiful Earth, we must act swiftly and decisively to eliminate the threat at its source!"

Not bad so far, Nazara mused, At least he's hitting all the right notes.

"Our enemies have already demonstrated their capacity for brutality," said the Admiral, "They preach about how enlightened they are, and yet they attack us with the savagery of beasts! Thus do they reveal their true nature, and in order to fight against them we must show the same brutality that they have. There can be no mercy for those who dare to threaten our sacred planet. Harden your hearts and strike with an iron fist, and we shall purge this menace once and for all! By the power vested in me by our President and military, I hereby order this armada to advance. Cross the Zero Line; the objective is L5! We will engage the enemy as soon as we have them in our sights!"

Wallace cleared his throat. "Carry on, soldiers. Do your duty, and do not let misguided thoughts of compassion and mercy infect your resolve. The war begins now, and it will not end until one side or the other is completely obliterated. Our enemies have already tried to send us down to hell; let us return the favor."

The Admiral cut off the address and sat down. Next to him, Nazara gave him half-mocking applause. The speech was actually shorter than he'd expected, and the Admiral certainly could've done worse.

He could feel a subtle vibration as the Victory's powerful engines kicked into high gear. The entire armada was in motion now, and it would not stop until it had reached the PLANTs.

Here I come, Durandal, Nazara thought with a smile, Please, sent everything you have against me. It will be my pleasure to carve through your ranks and strike at your beloved homeland. Say your prayers, Supreme Council Chairman…

…because I'm about to send your entire species straight to hell.

End "The Imperial March"

….

Leaning back in the chair behind his office, Durandal nodded at the man on the screen before him. "I see. Are you sure she's there?"

Major Adam Langley, the raven-haired head of the surface Special Forces division based at Carpentaria, nodded. "Completely. Our infiltrators spotted her in town a few days ago. She was disguised, but it wasn't hard to tell who she was. Tailing her was difficult, but we did manage to confirm where she's staying."

"You've done well, Major," Durandal replied, "Can Case Black Rose still be enacted under these circumstances?"

"There will need to be some modifications to the operational parameters," said the Major, uncharacteristically nervous, "but it can be done. However… is this really necessary, Chairman?"

Durandal smiled. "I understand your reluctance, Major. After all, the role she played in the last war as a force for peace is undeniable. She is an icon, and one who has truly earned her status. However, her power lies beyond our control, and in the coming war I'm afraid that we cannot allow her such independence. She will not join us, so we must ensure that our adversaries will not get the chance to make use of her gifts. This is a dirty and unenviable task, Major, but all wars have their share of such missions."

Langley nodded grimly. "I understand. Shall I put a unit on standby?"

"Yes," said Durandal, his eyes narrowing, "but you are not to commence the operation until you get an explicit order from me. Staging for Case Black Rose may commence, but the operation does not have the green light until I say otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Of course, Chairman," said the Major.

Durandal nodded. "Very good. I will leave the necessary preparations to you. Secrecy is paramount, Major. If you determine that local forces have discovered your strike team before I give the order to commence the operation, you have my permission to abort."

"Thank you, Chairman," the Major replied.

"I won't take any more of your time, then," said Durandal, "Until next time, Major."

The Special Forces officer disappeared from the screen, leaving the Supreme Council Chairman a moment alone with his thoughts. He could certainly sympathize with the Major's reservations regarding Case Black Rose; only a psychopath would take pleasure in carrying out such an operation. There was a reason that assignments like these were known as black ops, after all; they were hardly noble endeavors. However, Durandal had accepted long ago that to achieve his ends he would have to engage in less than honorable means, and this was simply one of the most dishonorable of the lot. He would live with that private stain on his nobility and accept it as a price to be paid for the greater good.

I've come too far to turn back now, he thought grimly, and I hardly deserve a clean conscience, given the methods I've employed thus far to advance my agenda.

He couldn't help but smile ruefully as he recalled his conversation with Heero Yuy in the Minerva's officer's lounge. The young man's suspicions regarding the construction of Armory One and the plans for an entire colony city to eventually be established at L4 were right on the money; it was intended as a provocative gesture. He had baited the trap, and the Earth Alliance had gone for it hook, line and sinker. Of course, they had moved earlier than he'd anticipated, and were it not for the intervention of Heero Yuy and his four mysterious friends he imagined that he would quite likely have died in the attack on the colony. Lady Luck was a very fickle mistress indeed, but right now she seemed to be smiling upon his endeavors, or at least amused enough by them to let them play out for the time being.

The war that he knew his plans required was about to begin. It was a very odd thing, playing the role of a determined peacekeeper in public but privately preparing for a global conflict. At least he could take comfort in the knowledge that he had a very willing, if quite unwitting, partner in the Earth Alliance; their recent actions had considerably accelerated his agenda, and under other circumstances Durandal might be so bold as to actually thank them for their invaluable assistance. It was one of those amusing ironies of life; those who utterly hated Coordinators had unknowingly given their leader a chance to bring the world closer to unity under L5's banner.

He was snapped out of his musings by a chime coming from the console. Checking the monitor, he saw that it was Grand Admiral Brinkmann calling in.

"Grand Admiral," said Durandal as the head of ZAFT appeared on the monitor, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The veteran commander's face was grimmer than usual. "We've received a report from our scout forces; the Alliance armada has crossed the Zero Line."

Durandal's eyes narrowed; to his knowledge there were still a couple of hours before the deadline given by the Atlantic Federation President had given in his address to Congress. "Are you sure?"

Brinkmann nodded. "The report has been verified. They're coming, Chairman."

Durandal sighed, playing the role of reluctant leader to the hilt. "Then it's time, Grand Admiral. Put our forces on maximum alert. I will convene an emergency session of the Supreme Council immediately."

The Grand Admiral saluted. "Understood, Chairman."

The head of the armed forces disappeared from the monitor. After a moment of staring at the blank screen lost in thought, a triumphant smile slowly worked its way onto the Chairman's face.

"So it begins."

Preview for next time!

The Earth Alliance force has crossed the Zero Line, triggering the start of the Second Bloody Valentine War. It doesn't take long for the armada to make contact with the outer defenses of the PLANTs, and a full-blown fleet brawl quickly erupts. While warships and mobile suits clash in the first major battle of the war, both sides prepare their trump cards. Those who lead the Earth Alliance armada place their faith in their nuclear stockpile, while ZAFT lays it all on the line with a prototype defensive device designed to avert another Bloody Valentine Tragedy. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Nine: Opening Match.

Not by strength alone is victory achieved…

Author's Notes: I'm glad I cut this one short. I know that you guys were excited for the mobile suit action to start up again, but by making the big battle at L5 the focus of a chapter instead of just a portion of one I'll be able to really do it justice. Thanks again for your patience, I promise that it will be rewarded!

Oh, and for those of you who think that the Victory is pretty much a Star Destroyer; you're right! Granted, it's a much weaker one, but the design intent is there all the same.

Hope you liked the chapter! Please review!