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?)

23. Chapter 23

Author's Notes: Hello there! Sorry for the wait with this, it's been a rather hectic past few months on my end. Work's been a raging dumpster fire, and that doesn't look like it'll let up anytime soon.

Only two songs for the chapter: 'Archange' from Ace Combat Seven: Skies Unknown and 'Enforcement Rush' from Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz.

Enjoy!

Episode Twenty-Three: The Berlin Calamity

November 18th, C.E. 73

Sitting in the cockpit of the Nosferatu, Nazara smiled as he went over his pre-flight checklist. Oh, it had been far too long since he'd been allowed to take the field. The work back at Heaven's Base might have been necessary, but it was also unbelievably dull. Only a few death threats had been needed to get things back on schedule, and after that the Colonel had done little except monitor progress, redouble his flight training and oversee the next round of modifications and upgrades to his personal mobile suit. He'd removed the Nosferatu's hip-mounted linear guns, and in their place was now a pair of M18M-D6 Wireless Gunbarrel pods. Unlike their larger cousins mounted on the mobile suit's wings, these were slender delta-shaped drones with only a single beam cannon inside them. Their mountings were capable of swiveling, allowing Nazara to either use them as fixed weapons attached to his machine or to deploy them with the larger drones. While they possessed less firepower than the larger drones, they compensated with greater agility and a slimmer target profile. Training to use all six of his gun drones in concert had been taxing, to put it mildly, but it had at least given him another way to pass the time.

Thankfully, the need to pass the time with monitoring reports and target practice was over now. His transfer back to field operations had been sudden, but the Colonel had been ready for it. It had taken hardly any time at all to ship himself and his mobile suit out of Iceland and over to northern Germany, and now both had taken up residence inside the Hannibal-class land battleship Bonaparte. At 250 meters in length, the Earth Alliance's answer to ZAFT's famous landships wouldn't be winning any prizes for beauty. Lumbering across fields covered by fresh snow, the mechanical beast was composed of a boxy central hull, with a slanted front panel that also served as the door to the main hangar dominating the prow. Up top, the front half of the central hull was flat, but the rear half was dominated first by a large dome and then an upraised bridge and small landing pad behind it. Propulsion came courtesy of the monster treads located in the four trapezoidal modules located at each corner of the vessel. Although it was mainly designed as a carrier and had capacity for 40 mobile suits along with one very special unit held beneath the topside dome, the land battleship was more than capable of either defending itself or joining in on an assault courtesy of its four upraised dual beam cannons, ten dual machine cannons and single dual anti-air cannon. As a last resort, the vessel was also equipped with 32 smoke dispensers atop the hull, allowing the Bonaparte to drop a screen to cover its retreat should events take a turn for the worst.

This'll be the class's first proper deployment in the capacity that it was truly designed for, Nazara mused, occupation and subjugation. I have high hopes for this great beast, not to mention the many little beasts she's carrying.

Looking across the hangar, Nazara could see some of those 'little beasts' waiting for the chance to deploy. Then again, 'little beast' was probably the wrong term for a machine like the GAT-01-RPI-212 Grognard assault mobile suit. Unlike the Dagger-Ls or Windams favored by the majority of the Earth Alliance mobile suit forces, the Grognard was a decidedly bulky machine, with flared hips and very broad shoulders. With a black base and gold trim for its color scheme, the unit was quite imposing just on an aesthetic level, and that was before one got into its nasty array of armaments. A triple-barreled autocannon was mounted on the machine's left arm, while built into its right arm was a unique revolver-like weapon known as the Jet Magnum, carrying six charges for a unique plasma stake. The weapon was meant to be used in close-quarters combat, where the Grognard would deploy it by punching the hull of an enemy mobile suit, driving the plasma stake into the hostile machine. On its back were two pods, each one containing six split-missiles. When launched, these would arc over the machine before racing forward and dividing into smaller munitions, spreading out to ensure the largest possible range of destruction. Last, but certainly not least, two large boxlike containers were built into the unit's shoulders. These were the Heavy Claymores, with each one holding numerous heavy titanium ball bearings that could be released like giant versions of the original mines that they'd been named for. They could shred enemy mobile suits or tear into structures, and it was the latter ability in particular that Nazara was looking forward to seeing in action today.

There were twenty Grognards aboard the Bonaparte, while the other half of the land battleship's main hangar space was taken up by eighteen Windams, the Ronin and the Nosferatu. Many more mobile suits, mostly Windams but some additional squads of Grognards as well, were being shipped in large transport planes overhead and would be dropped in from above once the assault kicked off. Additional waves of heavy transport jets would airdrop even more Windams and Grognards as the operation went on. There was one more machine aboard the Bonaparte up in the specialized hangar beneath the topside dome, and it was this unit that Nazara turned his attention to now. Checking one of his displays, Nazara smiled as he saw that the readings for the behemoth above him were all in the green. He opened a channel with the unit; he could check the mechanical status of the machine remotely, but the pilot required a more personal touch.

"Rosa, this is Nazara," he said, "How are you feeling?"

The girl that showed up on the screen looked like she'd barely even registered his words. Sixteen years old, with a slender figure, tan skin, brown eyes and black hair that was tied back in a ponytail, Rosa Nogales was an oddity as far as products of the Extended Program went. Rather than being just a snap away from a manic rage or panic attack like most of the surviving test subjects, she was practically lethargic most of the time. Her gaze was dull and unfocused, and she could barely be bothered to even eat or drink unless prodded to by her handler. The doctors had theorized her mannerisms were her way of dealing with the rigors of the program, that she'd essentially killed all feeling inside herself simply to survive. Nazara didn't care about any of that psychological bullshit; as long as he could point her at a target and unleash her, nothing else mattered.

"I'm fine, Colonel," she replied, not even bothering to hide her apathy.

In a way, it makes her much easier to manage than the others, he mused, although getting her into the action can take some work. Once her code phrase is triggered, though…

Nazara smiled as he thought of the footage he'd been shown of her fights in the lab. How she'd gone from being a girl who wouldn't react to even gunfire to a raging murder machine in just a matter of seconds, and the glorious mess she'd left in her wake…

She was perfect for what was needed today.

Nazara nodded. "That's good. We'll be deploying soon, so make sure you're ready, okay?"

Rosa nodded. "Copy that, Colonel."

Such a pliant tool, he thought, I wish the other survivors were like her. Well, no matter. We use the implements we have at our disposal.

Switching channels, he contacted the Ronin. "Rodrigues, status?"

The mercenary was as insolent in his reply as ever. "I'm not one of your little lab rats, Colonel. A remote check should've sufficed."

"Just wanted to make sure everyone's good to go," Nazara countered, biting back a more stinging retort; his loathing for the contract fighter grew with each passing day, but he needed the man's skills now more than ever, "We'll be in the target area soon, and we're expecting fierce resistance."

Rodrigues gave a bitter laugh. "Fierce resistance? From what? Protesters throwing water bottles? Oh, how terrifying!"

"Take this seriously," Nazara growled, "We have reports of mutinies within both the police and armed forces. Factions within key units are openly siding with the rebels."

"Oh, is that what we're calling them now?" Rodrigues sneered, "I was under the impression that they were just people who were pissed off at being forced to play along with our warmongering. It's so good to have that misunderstanding cleared up."

Beneath his helmet, Nazara glared at the mercenary. "Are we going to have a problem, Jetstream Sam?"

Rodrigues gestured dismissively. "No, we're not. Relax, Colonel. If there's anything deadlier than a Molotov cocktail out there, then I'll snuff it out for you."

It wasn't the answer that Nazara had been hoping for, but it would have to do. "Good. Be ready to launch at a moment's notice."

Rodrigues gave him a mock salute. "Copy that, Colonel."

How irritable, Nazara silently fumed as the mercenary disappeared from his screen, I don't know how much longer I can put up with him. Fortunately, if Project Iron Legion remains on track, then we'll eventually be able to cut him loose. Oh, what a glorious day that shall be…

There was one last pilot that he needed to check in with, but this one wasn't aboard the Bonaparte. Routing his new transmission through the land battleship's communications array, Nazara reached out to the Wunstorf Air Base. Or, more specifically, to the ace pilot that was stationed there.

The grizzled face of Mihaly appeared on his monitor a moment later. "Colonel Nazara. I was wondering when I'd be hearing from you."

Nazara nodded. "Major Reyne. What's the Wyvern's status?"

"Fully operational," the old Eurasian ace answered.

"Good," said the Colonel, "You'll get your launch orders soon enough. Remember, there is only one target that we need you to engage today."

"I'm aware of that," Mihaly replied.

Unlike his other pilots, it was difficult for Nazara to get a good read on this one. The man wore no mask like the Colonel, but his poker face was damn good. Whatever his real thoughts on this operation were, he kept them well hidden.

"Very well, then," said Nazara after a moment, "I'll leave you to it."

He cut the connection and leaned back in his seat. When he'd first learned that Mihaly was the one expected to engage Heero Yuy should he attempt to interfere in this operation, Nazara had been furious. What right did this over-the-hill Eurasian dog have to steal his prey? Yes, the Wyvern and its pilot had survived two clashes with the fearsome ace, but in Nazara's eyes those had both been due to nothing but luck. It was insulting to have to forfeit his rematch with Wing Zero to a latecomer like the Major.

At least, those has been the Colonel's initial sentiments. Upon further thought, though, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, this would actually work out quite nicely. If Nazara had been unable to slay Heero Yuy using a machine as advanced as the Nosferatu, then Mihaly's battery-powered Wyvern had no chance whatsoever; two battles already had proven that. The old man could put up a good fight, though, and through doing so perhaps weaken Wing Zero's pilot to the point that Nazara could finish him off. It wasn't how he'd originally wanted his revenge, but at this point he would take what he could get.

Adjusting his screen, he pulled up a tactical map. The Bonaparte and its accompanying support units were moving on Berlin from the north; the display had them labeled as Force A. Force B had swung around and was approaching the city from the east. The second group had no land battleships like Force A, but they had plenty of mobile suits and support units. While Force A would be doing the bulk of the fighting, Force B was meant to hassle the inevitable Eurasian Federation reinforcements that would begin trickling in or provide flanking support should Force A require it.

Nazara grinned as he minimized the tactical map. The Atlantic Federation had suffered defeat after humiliating defeat in this war, but things would be different now. At last, they would subjugate the Eurasian Federation and bring their immense resources fully to bear on this conflict. There would be a period of chaos as they worked to bring the colossal nation under control, of course, but those would be mere growing pains and necessary collateral damage. The Earth Alliance would finally live up to its name…

…and the world would be theirs for the taking.

….

The scramble order had been sudden, yet Heero had been ready for it. He couldn't explain how or why; he'd simply had a feeling that things were about to go south. Heero could already feel the Archangel ascending, and it wouldn't be long before the warship breached the surface. Jumping into his Gundam and powering up the machine, he wasted no time in establishing contact with the bridge.

Murrue appeared on his screen a moment later, and the look on her face was grim. "It's started, Heero. The Atlantic Federation forces have begun their assault on Berlin."

Heero's eyes narrowed. "What triggered it?"

Murrue shook her head. "I don't know. We don't have much in the way of details at the moment. It's complete chaos out there. Some of the local Eurasian forces are fighting against the Atlantic Federation units, others are fighting each other, and there are millions of civilians stuck in the middle. We need to get in there ASAP!"

Heero nodded as he began moving Wing Zero Albion towards the portside hangar exit. "Agreed. Orders?"

"Protect as many people as you can," she replied, "Destroy any Atlantic Federation forces you find, along with any Eurasian units that appear to be helping them. Beyond that, act at your own discretion."

"Roger that," said Heero as he saw the hangar door begin to open.

"Once you and the rest of our strike force has launched, we'll be moving our warships inland," Murrue continued, "We'll follow in your wake and do what we can to get a better understanding of the wider situation. From what we're seeing, communications are in disarray across the continent; I think Berlin's just the tip of the iceberg. With all the confusion, I believe the Archangel and Dominion will have greater freedom to maneuver."

Heero understood the reasoning, but he still didn't like the risk she was taking. "You'll still be exposed, and with only a minimal escort. At the first sign of trouble, recall me right away. Withdraw towards the sea if you have to."

Murrue smiled. "We'll be careful, Heero. Worry about yourself out there, not us. You're going where the fighting is thickest, after all."

Heero nodded. "Will do. Take care of yourself and the others while I'm gone."

"And you watch your back," said Murrue, "ZAFT's scrambling forces as well from the looks of things. I know you can handle yourself, but both sides hate your guts, and a chaotic three-way fight would be the perfect opportunity for either to go after you."

"Just like old times, then," Heero replied, "I'll stay on my toes as long as you do the same."

Murrue nodded. "Deal. Now get out there and show them what you've got."

Murrue's face was then replaced by Miriallia's. "Heero, you've been designated flight lead. You're clear to launch. Good luck out there."

"Copy that," said Heero, "Wing Zero Albion, launching."

Gunning the engines, his Gundam shot out of the hangar. Zipping out from the starboard exit alongside him was the Freedom, and the two of them formed up as they ascended. Off to the portside of the Archangel was the Dominion, with Epyon Revenant and one of the Wraiths already airborne. As Heero climbed, he saw the rest of the strike force launch and move to join him. From the Dominion came the other two Wraiths and the Tallgeese Kai, with Eric Bristow and his GuAIZ Werewolf remaining behind for defense. Meanwhile, the remaining units launching from the Archangel included the Mercurius Kai, the Vayeate Kai…

…and an Aile Striker-equipped Skygrasper.

That left the two Murasames and Strike Rouge behind to defend the Archangel, and Heero had faith in their pilots. His focus now was on Shinn, and he contacted the ZAFT defector.

"You ready for this?" the Gundam pilot asked.

"I have to be," Shinn answered, "Innocent people are dying out there. We have to help them!"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Heero couldn't help but give the former ZAFT red a small smile; he'd come a long way in a very short time. "We do, indeed. Form up, and let's get moving."

Shinn's response came without hesitation. "Roger that!"

….

Finishing his pre-flight checks, Trowa moved Heavyarms Arsenal out of its birth and towards the hangar exit. Looking down one last time, he made sure that his travel bag was secure beneath his seat.

We pushed our luck staying for as long as we have, he thought as he fired up his Gundam's engines, After this mission, we won't be coming back.

Duo, Trowa and Quatre had agreed on that well before they'd gotten the scramble order. Quatre's hacking of Gibraltar's command center servers and forwarding their valuable data on to Heero had been a real coup, but while the L4 native had done what he could to cover his tracks the Gundam pilots knew that the breach would be uncovered sooner or later. The trio had been planning their escape ever since, and this sudden operation was the perfect opening. They'd do what they could against the Alliance, then bug out and contact Heero. From there, it'd be a simple matter of making their way to the Archangel and Dominion.

Of course, it would only be the trio making the getaway; Wufei would be left behind. While Trowa understood the necessity of it, part of him still felt guilty over leaving the L5 native in the dark. They'd come to the Cosmic Era as a united Gundam Team, but the growing rift between the rest of them and Wufei was becoming impossible to paper over. If Altron Custom's pilot didn't want to go back to their world when this was all over, that was fine. Trowa and the others could deal with that. The road he was going down now, though, was something much worse.

Trowa didn't know how they'd bring Wufei back to the light, but he had no time to think about that now. Confirming that he had launch clearance, he gunned his mobile suit's engines and shot out of the hangar. As made his ascent, he glanced down at the sprawling Gibraltar base. Somewhere down there was Meer…

…and Trowa was leaving her behind.

His mind flashed back to that moment in their conversation a few nights ago. Had Duo not shown up when he had to give his warning, would the girl have taken his hand? What would he have done if she had? Round up the others and blast their way out with her that very night? Possibly. That was all it could be now, though; a possibility, a 'what if'. The die had been cast, and Trowa could now only hope that she'd be able to survive in the belly of the beast.

He formed up with Duo and Quatre, who were already airborne. Wufei and Athrun soon joined them, followed by Heine and Rey. The latter had been granted a new unit; the Impulse. A reserve Core Splendor module had arrived at Gibraltar just the day before, and it had been assigned to the ZAFT Red immediately. It was currently fitted with the Force Silhouette Pack, for speed was of the essence.

They didn't know much beyond the fact that the Atlantic Federation had launched an assault on Berlin. The mission was simple; defeat the Atlantic Federation forces and protect the civilians. The mobile suits were the vanguard; the Minerva herself had already pulled out of dock and would be following in their wake. Moving the battleship over the European mainland was insanely risky, but from what Trowa understood it seemed like the entire Eurasian Federation was in disarray right now. If ZAFT wanted to make such a bold move with their prized battleship, that was their call to make. Protecting it was no longer Trowa's responsibility.

Trowa turned his gaze to the northeast as he and the others continued their ascent. Only the mission mattered now. Would they make it to Berlin in time to save lives, or were they already too late? Would they have an unobstructed path to the heart of Europe, or would they be intercepted and forced to fight their way through a slog of enemy forces?

There was only one way to find out.

….

There had been tense missions before, but nothing like what Shinn was experiencing now. As he flew the Skygrasper over Europe, he'd been constantly on the lookout for surface-to-air missiles, mobile suits, fighters, and more besides. He'd expected some form of opposition long before now, yet he and the rest of the strike force remained unchallenged. It was incredibly unnerving, to the point that Shinn would've actually been relieved had someone taken a shot at them by now. Instead, their flight across the continent continued without obstruction, an eerie calm before what was almost certainly a raging storm.

In fact, the storm was already in full swing; it just hadn't hit the strike force yet. Throughout the flight, Shinn had been cycling through various radio frequencies, trying to get some idea as to what was going on out there. The picture that the transmissions and broadcasts painted was very disturbing. He'd heard distant explosions, panicking journalists, screaming civilians, distress calls, and more besides. Much of it was centered on Berlin, but he'd picked up fragments coming from all over Europe. The entire continent seemed to be descending into a state of utter pandemonium, and the fact that Shinn was only getting tiny pieces of the puzzle made it all the more alarming.

It sounds like complete hell out there, he thought as he caught distant flashes of light on the horizon, I don't know what's going on, but it can't be good.

He took several deep breaths to calm himself. Shinn couldn't tell if it was working, but as long as he could keep flying, he supposed it didn't really matter. Checking his gauges, he made sure that the Skygrasper's various weapons were online and ready for action. In addition to the aircraft's built-in weapons, the beam rifle of the Strike was slung on the fighter's right side while the shield was on its left. The Aile Striker Pack might not have added too much in the way of firepower, but the mobility boost it provided more than made up for it; it was probably the only reason why Shinn was managing to keep up with the strike force to begin with.

Adjusting the dial on the radio, Shinn tuned in to a new frequency. A man's voice came over his cockpit speakers, and what Shinn heard did not sound good.

"…rampaging through the north of the city! They're destroying everything in their path! Oh my god… what the hell is that? I've never seen a mobile suit that big before… oh no… get down!"

What sounded like a particle beam was faintly audible before the transmission was suddenly cut off by harsh static. Shinn tried to get the frequency back, but he had no luck. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he suspected that whoever had been speaking before would never speak again.

Shinn grimaced as he established a connection with the Gundam Albion. "Heero, are you hearing all of this?"

"Yeah," Heero grimly replied, "It's begun."

Shinn blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The invasion," Heero answered, "or rather, the open phase of it. The Atlantic Federation's dispensing with pretense now. They were never here to back up the forces of the Eurasian Federation; they're here for conquest. They're just making it official now."

Shinn shook his head. "But the Eurasian Federation is their ally! Why pick a fight and open a new front in the war?"

"Probably because they were never satisfied with the Eurasians' contributions to the war effort," Heero surmised, "Their allies have been half-hearted in the fighting. The Eurasian Federation was very much a reluctant partner in their campaign. With civilian discontent boiling over, the Atlantic Federation likely saw now as an ideal time to assert themselves and bring their 'ally' to heel."

"How do you know all of this?" asked Shinn.

"What do you think I was doing while you were in the infirmary with Stella or practicing in the simulator?" Heero countered rhetorically, "My duties for Terminal involve far more than simply flying or giving new recruits their orientation."

Shinn raised an eyebrow. "Orientation? Is that what my training's been?"

"That, and an audition," said Heero, "So far, you're on the right track."

Shinn was going to ask him what he meant by that when a beeping came from his console. Checking the radar, he saw a single contact to the northeast. His eyes narrowing, he saw that it was on an intercept course with the strike force.

More specifically, with Heero.

Start "Archange"

Shinn was about to shout out a warning when a green particle beam flashed through the air. Heero must've already detected the contact, because the Gundam Albion neatly sideslipped the shot before rushing forward. Shinn could make out a mobile suit in the distance, and his fingers raced across his console as he tried to zoom in on it. What he saw was a surprisingly slender machine…

…with a black base and orange markings.

Shinn's blood chilled. He'd seen this machine before, if only from a distance.

A gravelly voice came over an open channel, and Shinn knew it was the pilot. "A miss, but it's better this way. A lucky shot would be boring. Wouldn't you agree, Heero Yuy?"

"I would," Heero replied as the Gundam Albion broke off from the others, "Everyone, continue on course; I have this one. Shemei, command is yours. Get to Berlin ASAP."

"Copy that!" the Valkyrie replied, "Come on, people; we've got a city to save. Heero's got this."

"Hold on!" Shinn protested, "We should help him!"

"He's not the one who needs our help," Shemei countered, "The people of Berlin do. The longer we're here, the worse things get for them. Heero gets that, and so should you!"

Shinn took a deep breath as he saw Heero put away the Twin Buster Rifle and draw his second beam saber. He knew that the Valkyrie was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to remain with the strike group. He cast one last look at the two rapidly approaching machines as the Eurasian Federation unit ignited its violet beam saber before focusing on the flight ahead.

"Don't you dare die to him, Heero," Shinn muttered under his breath.

….

"I'd ask you to step aside," said Heero as he squared off against the Eurasian Federation ace, "but I don't have time to waste with futile requests."

"That makes two of us," Mihaly replied.

The two mobile suits rocketed forward, Heero's twin railguns spitting out a salvo while Mihaly let fly with a quick volley from his rifle. Slugs and particle beams flew at their respective targets and were evaded with mere meters to spare, and then the combatants were in melee range. In theory, Heero would have the advantage with two blades, but he knew better than to take things for granted here. He thrust his right beam saber forward, but Mihaly was effortlessly able to parry and riposte. Heero had already brought up his left blade in preparation for just such a counterattack, deflecting Mihaly's violet blade before making a diagonal slash with his right saber. The Wyvern's thrusters screamed as the machine reversed to avoid the swing, and the mobile suit went into a steep dive.

Heero pursued, unleashing a quick burst with his machine cannons. The Wyvern twisted and twirled with inhuman grace as Mihaly evaded his shots before his unit suddenly flipped around and took a shot with its beam rifle. Heero rolled his Gundam to the right, dodging the shot without bleeding too much momentum. He closed the distance, and sparks flew as emerald blade met violet.

"You've clearly made your choice," Heero noted as he slashed away at his foe, only for each strike to be deflected, "You surely know what's happening in Berlin, yet you're still siding with the bastards responsible for it. Your deal with the devil's complete."

"There was no choice this time," Mihaly answered as he countered with a thrust that Heero was only barely able to parry, "The cards have been dealt. I'd say my hand was poor, but compared to the others, I'm getting off easy."

There was a clear sense of resignation in his voice, and Heero could tell something was off. "You're not talking about the people of Berlin, are you?"

As Heero drove Mihaly towards the ground, the Eurasian ace responded with a bitter growl. "No… but I suppose it makes little difference to them, doesn't it?"

"Then who are you talking about?" asked Heero as he hammered his opponent's defenses with both blades, "Give me a straight answer."

"I thought you just said that you weren't going to waste time with futile requests," Mihaly shot back as he fended off Heero's strikes before suddenly breaking to the right, forcing the Gundam pilot to reorient himself and bring his outer wings around to block a volley of particle beam fire, "As you said, neither of us have time for it."

As Heero returned fire with another salvo from his railguns before zipping forward to cross energy blades again, his mind raced. Possible scenarios flashed through it, with one in particular standing out to him.

"They've taken hostages, haven't they?" he ventured as he thrust his right blade forward before following up with the left, with Mihaly redirecting both attacks and immediately countering, "The Atlantic Federation have taken someone close to you."

The only reply he got from Mihaly was a grunt as the venerable pilot went on the offensive with a series of swift slashes, but it was all the answer that Heero needed. Doubtlessly Mihaly's communications were being monitored, and any sign of hesitation on his part might spell doom for whoever he was trying to protect.

"Fine," said Heero as he deflected Mihaly's attacks, "You don't have to answer. We've met in battle twice before now. Let the third time be the charm, for good or ill."

The Eurasian ace's answer came in the form of an intensified assault, his single violet blade flashing streaks across the sky. No thought was given to the pilot's aged body, and Heero suspected that was deliberate; win or lose, this would be the old warrior's last fight. The Gundam pilot wasn't here to indulge a veteran's wish for one final duel with a worthy opponent, but he had no choice here. He couldn't afford to have a soldier with Mihaly's skills running around unchecked and interfering with operations in Berlin. If he could deal with the ace by himself, it would give the rest of the strike force a chance to reach the city in time to actually make a difference.

If a good death will satisfy him and save whatever hostages his superiors have taken, Heero thought grimly, then he'll have it here.

Crossing his blades to catch Mihaly's saber, Heero then slammed his thrusters forward. He brought up Wing Zero Albion's right knee, driving it into the Wyvern's torso. The impact left a decent dent in the machine, but didn't punch through. Still, it was enough to rattle Heero's opponent and give him a chance to retake the initiative. He immediately seized it, unleashing an emerald whirlwind and putting his adversary on the backfoot.

Even on the defensive, though, his enemy was not to be taken lightly. The Wyvern kept its violet blade in close and angled itself to present the narrowest possible target profile. It moved with the grace and precision of an Olympic gold medalist fencer, its saber darting out in riposte after expertly parrying one vicious thrust after another.

Zechs would've gotten a kick out of fighting this guy, Heero mused, Treize too, I bet. Mihaly, I think you were born in the wrong world.

His twin blades moved like lightning as he pressed his assault, relentlessly slashing away at his opponent with brutal efficiency. Heero went high and low, left and right, doing everything he could to trip up his opponent with strikes from unexpected angles. Nothing could get through; Mihaly was simply too sharp for that. Man and machine were in perfect synch, and Heero had to give as much credit to the engineers behind the Wyvern as he did to the man flying it.

It was a marvelous piece of machinery, as much a work of art as a deadly weapon. The Atlantic Federation and ZAFT had believed that building more powerful mobile suits was the key to countering Wing Zero, but the Eurasians had gone with a much more thoughtful approach than relying on raw strength or gimmicks, and the Wyvern perfectly encapsulated it. Its thrusters were so finely tuned, their vectors so expertly calculated, that the mobile suit seemed to dance through the air rather than maneuver in the conventional manner. Heero could only imagine how excited the likes of Erica Simmons or Mike Howard would've been to study such a machine up close. The Gundam pilot regretted the fact that he would have to destroy it and the exceptional pilot behind its controls.

The ZERO System prodded at his mind, searching for doubts. It found none. As Heero continued to cross blades with the venerable ace, there was only grim resolve. The battle lines had been drawn long ago, and Mihaly had chosen his side. There was only one path before the two pilots; the duel they were engaged in now.

One way or the other, it would be their last.

….

Pushing the throttle as hard as he could, Mihaly took the Wyvern into a steep climb. He didn't need to check his display to know that Heero was hot on his heels, and he juked and twisted his machine like a madman to throw off the enemy's aim. A silent countdown was ticking away in his head. He'd pulled this move on other pilots before, but not against one like this.

When his mental timer hit zero, he pulled back on the control sticks. He was thrown back in his seat as the Wyvern flipped around, and it took everything he had to keep from passing out. His rifle was already raised, and the maneuver now had him aiming right at the pursuing pilot.

Mihaly fired while simultaneously accelerating forward. The Gundam was too close to dodge, but Heero had already moved his outer wings into position, and the emerald particle beams splashed against the blue shields that materialized over their white surfaces. Mihaly raised his beam saber as he closed what little remained of the distance, but his subsequent strike was parried by one of Heero's viridian blades.

He saw it coming, Mihaly thought as he dived, his machine bobbing and weaving as he evaded a burst of fire from Heero's machine cannons along with a railgun slug salvo, I don't know how, but he knew what I was going to do. He wouldn't have had those shields up in time otherwise…

It wasn't the first time he'd observed this eerie precognition in his adversary. Mihaly had thoroughly studied every scrap of combat footage he could get his hands on in preparation for challenging this particular foe, and one thing that had always stood out at him about Wing Zero's fights was how its pilot seemed to possess an unnaturally sharp sense for what his opponent was about to do. Experienced aces could often guess what another veteran pilot might try, but this went far beyond that. Guesswork, lucky or otherwise, could not account for what Mihaly had just seen.

"Maybe he's a mind-reader," Mihaly muttered under his breath, barely able to grit out the words thanks to the insane acceleration he was subjecting himself to, "or his machine is. Guess it's all the same in the end."

Alarms began ringing in his ears; he was getting dangerously close to the ground. Since that was intentional, he tuned out the annoying screeches and focused solely on the task at hand. He'd chosen the perfect region to make his intercept in; there were no structures out here, civilian or military, and therefore no chance of collateral damage. Fields broken up by patches of forest stretched in all directions, and if he'd been given time to admire the scenery Mihaly might have found it beautiful. It was awfully hard to do that when a deadly ace was gunning for you, of course.

Pulling up at the last moment, he spun the Wyvern around and let fly with another volley. Once again, Heero had reacted with unnatural speed, zigzagging through the emerald bolts like it was the simplest thing. It was unearthly, inhuman, otherworldly…

Otherworldly…

An absolutely mad thought crossed his mind as he brought his beam saber up to fend off a veritable cyclone of slashes from the Gundam pilot. It was complete lunacy; a rational human being wouldn't have even bothered to consider it. Mihaly hardly considered himself to be rational, though, especially when it came to flying. What other pilots considered insanity were simply intriguing possibilities to him… and this was potentially the most intriguing of them all.

Figuring that there was no harm in trying, Mihaly reached out to his foe. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Such a bland question on the surface. The American stooges monitoring his communications might be a bit confused, but they were little more than thugs; they wouldn't bother to search for a deeper meaning. There was no risk to Marius and his team in trying this when those holding them hostage were too stupid to understand it in the first place.

The reply he got consisted of one word. "No."

A simple and generic answer. It could've been as plain as it sounded to the casual listener; no, the enemy pilot wasn't from the region that they were fighting over now. It could've even meant that he wasn't from Europe as a whole, or anywhere in the Eurasian Federation for that matter. However, as Mihaly once again crossed blades with his opponent, he knew what it really meant.

It took every last iota of self-control to keep himself from bursting out in laughter. The ultimate mystery of the First Bloody Valentine War, the one that both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT had devoted who-knew-how-many intelligence analysts to figuring out only to come up empty…

…while an old dog of war had gotten the answer with a wild thought and a plain question.

That knowledge wouldn't do him much good in this fight. Mihaly didn't care. All that mattered was that he, a way past his prime pilot who just didn't know when to quit, who had let himself be used as a living weapon against the enemy that his superiors feared over all others just so he could fly one more time, had solved the puzzle that the two great powers of the Cosmic Era were still completely confounded by. There was a special kind of satisfaction to be found in that.

Almost the same kind as that he found in facing the ace that would lead the new generation.

….

Hound him relentlessly, Heero told himself as he thrust his blades at the Wyvern, and run him down. His only real weakness is his age. Use that.

Heero would, and he'd do so mercilessly. He drove Mihaly towards the ground again, his twin sabers flashing like bolts of emerald lightning as he hammered the Eurasian's defenses. To his credit, Mihaly didn't let a single blow through; his swordsmanship was top notch, and having only one blade as opposed to Heero's two wasn't proving to be much of a handicap for him. However, having to constantly defend himself from such a furious assault would take its toll. Heero had the edge in endurance, and he would milk that for all it was worth.

Mihaly still had plenty of fight left in him, though, along with a few tricks up his sleeves. As Heero transitioned from a thrust with one blade to a slash with the other, Mihaly parried both strikes before suddenly flipping his machine. The Wyvern's legs came up so fast that the ace actually managed to kick the Gundam in the chest, disrupting Heero's momentum and giving Mihaly an opening. The veteran pilot immediately seized that, and now Heero found himself being driven back by his enemy's relentless blade.

"Well played," Heero muttered under his breath, sweat building up at his furrowed brow as he deflected one strike after another.

The pair of mobile suits gradually gained altitude as Mihaly pressed his assault, driving Heero up into the clouds. Heero could only imagine what an observer down below might see; probably little more than two tiny blue-white comets of thruster fire repeatedly clashing with each other, with miniscule flashes of light as their beam sabers met. In an earlier time, it might've been the kind of thing that'd be mistaken for a UFO sighting, but those innocent days for humanity were long gone. This was the era of the mobile suit, and anyone with two functioning eyes and working brain cells would know what was unfolding in the skies over central Germany.

Catching Mihaly's violet saber with his right blade, Heero managed to swat the sword aside and counterattacked with his left blade. Mihaly deftly maneuvered the Wyvern to the right, slipping past the sword before rocketing upwards. The Wyvern only climbed for a second before it took aim with its beam rifle, and Heero banked hard to the left to avoid the ensuing volley. He returned fire with a salvo from his railguns, but Mihaly had already accelerated and the slugs zipped past him. He was coming in hard and fast, straight for Heero.

Heero was ready for him. Blades crossed, he locked Mihaly's saber with his before spitting out a burst of bullets from his machine cannons. The rounds chewed into the plating on the Wyvern's shoulders, and sparks flew from the holes as the machine disengaged. Heero didn't notice any decrease in performance from the machine, although it was possible that the range of motion for its arms had been compromised.

A wounded tiger was all the more dangerous, though, and Mihaly wasn't about to go down yet. He'd pulled back, but only so he could fire off a volley with his beam rifle. Heero jerked his Gundam to the left to evade the shots, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. Mihaly had gunned his engines, and he'd anticipated the direction that Heero would dodge in. His violet blade lashed out, and while Heero was able to bring his right beam saber up to parry, it wasn't a flawless defense; the Eurasian ace's blade had thrust forward just far enough to bury itself in Wing Zero Albion's left machine cannon, wrecking the weapon. Mihaly was forced to quickly withdraw his sword as Heero made a counterthrust with his left saber, and he raised his beam rifle to fire again. The movement was slower than before, though; Heero's earlier shells had damaged its inner workings.

"You're good," said Heero as he blocked the particle beams on his wing shields, "It's been a long time since anyone's landed a meaningful hit on me. Too bad you're on the wrong side."

"Agreed," Mihaly replied as he dodged a salvo from Wing Zero Albion's railguns, "I think this dance has gone on long enough, don't you?"

Heero nodded. "It has. Let's end this."

The two mobile suits shot up into the clouds, juking and weaving as they traded potshots. Once they were well over the cloud layer, they charged forward, and the final exchange began. Twin emerald blades and a single violet one flashed like lightning, lashing out at each other like dueling vipers. After feinting low, Mihaly's blade darted towards the Gundam's cockpit. Heero's parry came with mere meters to spare, with his left blade held in just over the Gundam's Search Eye. Then he made a broad slash with his right beam saber, a downward diagonal strike…

…one that carved into the left side of the Wyvern's head.

It didn't stop there. The strength and momentum behind the strike carried the blade down, cutting into the mobile suit's torso and coming out the right side. Sparks and smoke gushed from the wrecked machine, and the Wyvern plummeted towards the clouds and ground beneath them. The decisive blow had been landed; Heero had won.

End "Archange"

However, as the mobile suit fell and vanished into the clouds, the voice of its pilot came over the radio, albeit with his words chopped up and garbled by static. "Well… I'd hoped. Go… Berlin. Look out… drones… foolish legacy. This… due to my ego. Put... end to..."

That was all Heero could make out before the channel became nothing but static. On his sensors, the blip representing the Wyvern vanished entirely. Heero waited for a moment, but no further transmissions came. Was Mihaly down for good, or had he survived the crash? And what was that he'd mentioned about drones?

Heero would have to ponder that later. Gunning his engines, he raced towards Berlin. As intense as the duel had been, that was merely a warm up.

The true battle still lay ahead.

….

Every soldier ponders what their first battle's going to be like. Where will it be fought at? Who will they be fighting? Will they win the day, or have to retreat? Will their buddies make it out alive, or will they be the only survivor? And, of course, there's the big one; will they be the one to bite the dust?

Erwin Pabst had done more than his share of pondering, but never in his wildest dreams or worst nightmares had he ever imagined that his baptism by fire would be anything like the utter hell he found himself stuck in now. All of nineteen years old, lean and lanky with short cropped brown hair and bright green eyes, the young man could only look on in horror at the charnel house that his hometown was rapidly being reduced to. He wanted more than anything else to suddenly wake up and find himself back in the barracks with his friends, breaking out in a cold sweat before laying back down and trying to get a few more hours of sleep before morning drills began. He'd had more than a few nights like that, and he'd hated them before, but he would've given all the money in his bank account for this to be one of those nights now.

Unfortunately for Erwin, this was no bad dream.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Fresh out of secondary school, he'd joined the Eurasian Federation armed forces more to honor the family tradition than anything else. A wide-eyed idealist through and through, he'd been brought up believing that putting one's life on the line for your countrymen was a noble calling. He'd heard the horror stories of the First Bloody Valentine War, and while he couldn't say he was a fan of either the actions of the Earth Alliance or ZAFT in that conflict, he still felt that he could make a difference and wanted to do his part. He wanted to serve with dignity and humility, to do the right thing no matter what the personal costs might be.

He'd had mixed feelings when the new war broke out, but he wasn't in a position to do anything about it. As a new recruit in a nation that was reluctant to fully commit to the broader fighting, Erwin had lucked out. His posting had been with the Berlin garrison, which was about as safe of a spot to ride things out as a soldier could ask for. It gave him plenty of time to think about what was going on in the world, and he had supposed that would be all he'd really do in this war at the rate things had been going; think noble and conflicted thoughts while others went out and did the fighting and the dying.

Then the war came to Berlin.

Not all at once, and not in the way Erwin had expected. It'd started small; a few anti-war demonstrations, mostly peaceful in the beginning. People marching, waving signs and chanting slogans, all the while the police looked on. They'd been more of a curiosity than anything else as far as the everyday people had been concerned, and for the most part the rest of the city had simply gone about its business.

Then there was the surprise attack on Cagliari, and things had changed. When he'd first heard of it, Erwin hadn't known what to think. So many Eurasian Federation sailors dying was a tragedy, of course, but that was war for you. He supposed that others would be outraged, and indeed they were, but not in the way that Erwin had initially expected. Government and certain media figures had tried to turn it into the Eurasian Federation's version of Pearl Harbor, attempting to stir people up in defiant rage against ZAFT. That hadn't gone their way, though. Quite the opposite, in fact; people were stirred up, but it was against the Earth Alliance, and the Atlantic Federation in particular. The war was hitting much closer to home now, and the people were finally waking up to the fact that they were being asked to stick their necks out in the name of stroking the Americans' collective hate-boner for Coordinators.

That hadn't sat well, to put things lightly. Anti-Coordinator sentiment might have been a bit more prominent in the Eurasian Federation during the First Bloody Valentine War, but things had changed over the past two years. The crimes of both sides had gotten quite the spotlight shined upon them in the aftermath of the conflict, and while the Eurasian Federation remained part of the Earth Alliance, there was now a certain degree of wariness for the Atlantic Federation and their resident Blue Cosmos maniacs. The group had been effectively marginalized in Europe, and the religious nuts who had fanned the flames in the last war had been mostly ridiculed into obscurity. Not completely, unfortunately, but enough to blunt their influence. The people had moved on, and for the most part they wanted to do away with past hatreds and try to live in peace. When the Atlantic Federation had started stirring the pot following the incident with the Junius Seven remains, it had taken a lot of work on the part of Eurasian Federation officials to nudge their country into a position of support, and all they'd really managed to do was put themselves into a position to lend half-hearted aid. After Cagliari, the people didn't even want to lend that much support. In fact, they were completely sick of the war as a whole and wanted out.

Initially, it had just been civilians protesting in the streets, but that had soon begun to change. Erwin had been aware of rumors of some members of the police putting down their riot gear and joining the demonstrators, even facing off against their former colleagues. It hadn't taken long for dissent to spread to the armed forces, either. At first, Erwin had simply watched as his friends and comrades began to not show up for drills or any of their duties, instead joining the protests. While his family had tried to instill in him the idea that good soldiers didn't abandon their post regardless of their personal feelings, in truth, Erwin sympathized with them. His own ingrained instincts had prevented him from joining them, but he'd at least been able to look the other way, even silently cheer them on.

Then the orders had come for loyal soldiers to begin cracking down, first on those who had gone to take part in the demonstrations, and then on the protestors themselves. That had been the final straw for Erwin and many of his comrades who had sat on the fence until now. They weren't about to attack their friends or civilians, and duty to his superiors could go straight to Hell for all Erwin cared. So, he'd saddled up, taking the Dagger-L that he'd been assigned out, but not to fight his former comrades or suppress the demonstrations. Instead, he and his likeminded friends would act to protect them, and to show their superiors that they would no longer be a part of the collective insanity that was this war.

For the first time since the conflict had begun, Erwin genuinely felt like he was doing the right thing. Other units had been brought out to confront them, but they'd actually managed to convince many of the soldiers to switch sides. As for those that remained loyal to the government, they'd settled into tense standoffs. Erwin had heard of skirmishes breaking out between soldiers and police from both sides, but none had occurred in the area where he had taken up watch. Instead, he'd simply kept his machine between the protestors and riot police, a tall and imposing guardian. Needless to say, the police weren't about to pick a fight with a mobile suit without serious backup from the armed forces, and so Erwin had been able to maintain the standoff with little difficulty.

He'd hoped that things would remain like this, that he could play the part of silent sentinel and help buy time until people higher up the chain and smarter than him could work something out. Erwin hadn't known exactly what to expect, but despite the earlier orders he was reasonably confident that nothing drastic would happen. His superiors might have wanted them to suppress the demonstrations earlier, but those orders had been given in terms that at least made it clear preferably non-lethal, if still rather brutal and rough, methods were to be employed. That told Erwin that there was perhaps still a chance for negotiation; after all, no one was ordering lethal force be used on civilians, so even if the higher ups were still being leaned on heavily by the Atlantic Federation, they hadn't completely bowed to pressure just yet. Things were tense and, if Erwin was being honest with himself and paying attention to the radio chatter, pretty bad, but there was still hope for cooler heads to eventually prevail and things to calm down.

Hope that had now gone, quite literally, up in flames.

The first inkling Erwin had been given of the Hell coming his way was the sudden chorus of screams over the radio and flashes of crimson and emerald light in the distance. Those flashes and screams had been followed by a series of explosions, and Erwin had looked on in horror and shock as entire city blocks were suddenly reduced to fire and rubble. His sensor display had lit up with contact, and Jet Windams had begun strafing runs across Berlin. Messages from his comrades in other parts of the city spoke of new black and gold machines, prototype assault mobile suits from the sound of it, blasting their way through buildings and mobile suits alike with brutal efficiency. Others spoke of a violet machine with multiple small drones swirling around it raining down death and destruction. Most worrying of all, though, were the reports of a gargantuan machine marching straight through the city from the north and utterly demolishing everything in its path. Erwin didn't know much more beyond that, but he was certain that none of this was from the Eurasian Federation armed forces. The Atlantic Federation had come, and they had brought Hell on Earth with them.

Erwin had joined an ad hoc squad with some scattered comrades, and they'd done what they could to buy time for the protestors in their area to flee. Unfortunately, they hadn't lasted long. Massed rocket barrages from a group of passing Jet Windams had taken out half of them, while the others had been whittled down one by one courtesy of beam rifle fire. Now, Erwin stood alone, firing his rifle at Windams making another strafing run. He clipped the left wing of one with a lucky shop, causing its pilot to lose control and slam into a nearby office building. Erwin winced; he could only hope that the structure had already been evacuated.

He couldn't spare much room for such thoughts, though; he had much more immediate concerns. The downed Windam's comrades had taken exception to Erwin's actions, and they were moving in for payback. He maneuvered his Dagger-L behind another building, hating that he had to use a civilian structure as cover but not having much choice in the matter. Poking around the side, he let fly with another volley, and much to his amazement one of his particle beams actually hit a Windam dead-center and blew it apart. The rest of the enemy formation scattered, but they quickly reformed into a pair of pincers, and Erwin knew they were about to make him pay for his momentary success.

That was when a flurry of missiles suddenly flew forth, engulfing the remaining machines and ripping them apart. His eyes widening as he looked behind him, Erwin saw four self-propelled surface-to-air missile launcher systems coming up the street. They were old, really just tracked vehicles with a series of rails holding eight missiles nailed onto the back, and they'd expended half of their ammunition in the act of saving his hide, but Erwin wasn't about to turn down the help.

Before Erwin could thank them for the save, though, alarms blared in his cockpit speakers. The Eurasian Federation pilot only had a moment to check his sensors and see a flurry of small inbound contacts before everything around him exploded. Even more alarms sounded as he was thrown about wildly in his cockpit, and his mobile suit was flung backwards. As his machine hit the ground, Erwin belatedly realized that those contacts had been missiles. He tried to right his machine, but all it did was twitch and shudder. Checking his display, Erwin realized that the blasts from the warheads had blown off both of the Dagger-L's legs and its right arm. As bad as he'd gotten it, though, a quick glance at his sensors told him that he'd gotten off easy; the four self-propelled missile launchers that had rescued him just seconds ago had been completely wiped out.

He could still move his mobile suit's head, albeit barely. It was enough, though, for Erwin to find the machine that had launched the deadly barrage. His eyes widened in horror as he looked upon it. It was huge. Each of its legs alone was bigger than a conventional mobile suit, and the three steel talons that jutted out from its feet to balance it gave it the look of some abomination from another world. He would've called it a mobile suit, but the upper half of its torso was dominated by a strange disk-like structure. Mostly dark grey with bits of red trim and with a set of truly massive cannons jutting out from the top, the machine was unlike anything that Erwin had ever seen before.

And it was lumbering down the street right at him.

Erwin instantly realized that his stricken mobile suit was in the giant's path, and he knew that it wouldn't be getting up ever again. He rapidly undid his harness and popped open the cockpit hatch. The young man didn't like his chances outside on foot, but they were a hell of a lot better than if he stayed her. Erwin leapt free of the fallen Dagger-L and ran for the blasted husk of a nearby building, praying whoever was piloting the massive machine that had ripped apart his own didn't see him.

His luck held, and he made it through the building's blown-out entrance. He took shelter behind the charred remains of a receptionist's desk, cautiously peeking his head out to see what would happen next. Erwin had no plan now beyond simple survival; if he lived through the next minute or two, maybe he could try to find some fellow Eurasian Federation soldiers, although he didn't have the foggiest clue as to how he'd go about that.

Erwin instinctively held his breath as he watched the mechanical Goliath outside casually step on his crippled Dagger-L, crushing the machine like a can of shitty beer. The ground trembled as the beast plodded onwards, and after a few seconds Erwin allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He decided to stay in his current hiding spot for just another few minutes; best to be safe and make sure the damn behemoth didn't see him sneak out. Once he was damn sure the coast was clear, then he'd go out and try to find some allies.

It'd be a miracle if he survived the day.

….

Magnificent, thought Nazara as he watched the unfolding carnage, I certainly had high hopes, but even then, I never dared imagine it would be so glorious!

Oh, how long he had waited for this day. To be kept on the leash back at Heaven's Base had been utter torture. This was where he belonged; out in the field, bringing ruin to his enemies and demonstrating to the world the price for cowardice and treachery. Squadrons of Jet Windams raced overhead, keeping the skies clear of Eurasian air units and suppressing surface combatants. The Grognards were tearing through the urban areas, shredding buildings and mobile suits alike with their Heavy Claymores before gunning down protestors and foot soldiers alike with their autocannons. Rodrigues and his Ronin cut down disorganized Eurasian Federation mobile suits left and right, with none of them able to so much as scratch the mercenary. Berlin's streets were already running red with blood, and the assault had only just begun. Nazara had gotten in on the action himself, bombarding entire city blocks with the Nosferatu's gun drones and cutting down any Eurasian mobile suit that got close to him with his beam saber.

Of course, the death and devastation wrought by the Jet Windams, Grognards, Ronin and Nosferatu paled in comparison to the utter ruin left in the wake of today's true star. That honor went to the titan striding through the center of Berlin; the GFAS-X1 Destroy Gundam. Naught but fire and rubble surrounded the behemoth, and it was only just getting warmed up.

Conceived in the immediate aftermath of the First Bloody Valentine War, the Destroy Gundam actually owed its existence in large part to one of the last weapons developed in that conflict. It paid homage to that weapon in the form of its disk-shaped upper half in its mobile armor configuration; the shape was almost a dead-ringer for the FA-X Juggernaut units that had been fielded in the war's final campaign. The Destroy even used a few of the Juggernaut's old weapons in the form of the two twin-barrel Aufprall Dreizehn high-energy Beam Cannons and the four Mark 62 6-tube Multipurpose Missile Launchers that were mounted atop the unit's backpack and served as a big chunk of its offensive firepower in its mobile armor configuration.

Those weren't the only weapons it could use in its current form. While the front of the disk was dominated by the unit's optical sensors, two glowing slanted crimson eyes, the rim was lined with no less than twenty Nefertem 503 Thermal Plasma Composite Cannons. Far more powerful than the ten Igelstellung CIWS that had ringed the FA-X Juggernaut, these were capable of spewing out emerald death continuously for limited amounts of time before they had to cool off. While an outside observe might think that their firing arcs were limited thanks to them being fixed weapons, a closer look would reveal that their barrels could rotate in order to adjust their shooting angles.

Even this impressive array was not the end of the unit's armaments, though. The remainder of the arsenal could only be used in the Destroy's mobile suit form, and Nazara was very much looking forward to seeing them in action. He had half a mind to order Rosa to transform the unit just so he could watch the show, but he held off; the mobile armor form was proving more than sufficient at the moment.

I'll get to see the rest of its bells and whistles in action soon enough, he mused with a smirk, and they'll be quite the nasty surprise for our foes.

His sensors pinged, and Nazara saw two groups of Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls approaching the Destroy. They were making a classic pincer attack, with one squad coming in from the left and the other from the right. Nazara could've struck them down himself, but instead he held back; he wanted them to experience the futility of attacking the Destroy firsthand. The unit might've appeared to be a gigantic target, but its defenses were no less formidable than its weapons.

Sure enough, the mobile suits opened fire. Volleys of emerald particle beams flew forth, but while all of them were on target, none of them found their mark. Instead, the beams were deflected by a shimmering barrier that appeared over the unit courtesy of the Schneidschutz SX1021 Positron Reflector Shield mounted on the Destroy's backpack. The machine didn't have so much as a scratch on it. Its attackers wouldn't get off nearly so lightly. A storm of beams flew forth from its Nefertem cannons, and both squads were instantly annihilated.

Nazara chuckled as he watched the show. "It's almost too easy, isn't it? Oh, if only this thing had been ready months ago!"

It certainly would've come in handy during prior battles, but none of that mattered now. Now, the Destroy was unleashed, and the unit devastating Berlin was not the only one of its type. Soon, the entire Eurasian Federation would cower before its brethren, and ZAFT would look upon them with dread. Nothing in their arsenal could match them. Nazara was hardly worried about them in any case; the Destroy's true test would come from another adversary, one that had yet to take the field.

Nazara had heard nothing from Mihaly after the Eurasian Federation ace had taken off from Wunstorf Air Base. It was possible that he'd already engaged Wing Zero, or was about to do so. Either that, or the man had gone rogue and condemned Doctor Morozov and his team to death. The Colonel supposed that he would find out one way or the other soon enough.

Particle beams raced by his machine, and Nazara chuckled as he found the source; a trio of Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls. It was awfully brave of them to try taking a shot at him, and he wasted no time in demonstrating to them the folly of such an attempt. His six gun drones spread out, with two targeting each machine. The drones unleashed a web of emerald fire, and the three mobile suits were blown apart in short order.

Checking his display, he saw that things were moving apace. Force A was moving through the city with ease and demolishing everything in its path. What little resistance they found was disorganized and scattered. It was almost disappointing, really; Nazara had hoped for more of a fight than this.

Beneath his mask, he raised an eyebrow as he checked on Force B. As per the plan, the second Atlantic Federation group was outside the city proper keeping an eye out for reinforcements, but they weren't quite in the right position. In fact, as he studied the display in further detail, it almost looked like Force B had split into two distinct sub-groups…

…and those groups were now facing off with each other.

The Colonel was about to radio Force B's commander to find out what was going on when a series of alarms rang in his cockpit. Several new contacts were on the radar, all coming in from the west. Reorienting the Nosferatu so he could get a good look at them, Nazara's eyes narrowed. He spotted six units; five mobile suits and, improbably enough, what looked like a jet fighter. Zooming his optical sensors in as far as they could go, Nazara smirked as he realized who had come to join the party.

"The meddlers are here," he murmured, "but no Wing Zero… did Mihaly actually take him down?"

He would have to get confirmation later. Nazara steeled himself for the coming confrontation and was about to order his forces to intercept when he realized something was wrong. One of the new units, the crimson machine with demonic wings, was suspected to be piloted by none other than Shemei Rehema. If the Valkyrie herself was here, then the three Wraiths flown by her subordinates should have been present as well, yet there was no sign of them. There was no way they'd sit out a fight like this, which could only mean one thing; their Mirage Colloid systems were activated.

Damn it, thought Nazara as he looked around the battlefield, where are they?

He got his answer a moment later as particle beams and railgun slugs ripped through a squad of Grognards that had been about to finish off some Eurasian stragglers. Three of the black and gold machines were immediately blown apart, and as their fellows struggled to find the source of the shots another volley took out three more of them. Then the Wraiths deactivated their Mirage Colloids and brought their Phase Shift Armor online. With the rest of the meddlers rapidly closing in, Nazara knew he only had seconds to issue new orders.

"Rodrigues, pick whatever foe strikes your fancy and stall them!" he shouted, "All Jet Windam squadrons, converge here; the meddlers are your top priority. Grognards, continue your assault on the city itself. Rosa, it's time; shift to the Destroy's mobile suit form."

Various acknowledgements echoed over the radio, but Nazara paid them little heed. His concentration was on the Gundam heading straight for him; the crimson demon, its emerald beam sword already ignited. The Colonel raised his violet beam saber and arrayed his six drones around him while taking aim with his rifle and shoulder cannon. Green and red beams flew forth, with the latter curving to track the Valkyrie as she twisted and weaved through the barrage. None of the shots found their mark, unfortunately, and she was upon him within moments.

As Nazara blocked his foe's opening slash, a female voice came over an open channel, and he knew it was that of the Valkyrie. "I'm sure you'd rather fight Heero than me, but he's already killed you once; it's only right that he shares!"

Beneath his mask, the Colonel blinked in confusion as he deflected a quick sequence of strikes while attempted to flank his adversary with his drones. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Shemei Rehema's laughter echoed in his ears as Nazara swiftly pulled back to avoid a swipe from her Heat Rod, and he realized the answer just before she verbally confirmed it. "No need to keep up the façade, Colonel Nazara! Why don't we call you what you really are? Although, I suppose Azrael 2.0 doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?"

So, his suspicions were confirmed; Heero Yuy and his allies had managed to uncover Lodonia's darkest secrets. Nazara silently cursed Doctor Frick and his staff for their failure to wipe the records in time. That being said, a small part of him actually felt something akin to relief. The need for the mask had become tiresome of late. Perhaps it was fitting that, with the new stage of the war now in full swing, he could finally embrace his true identity.

Yes, thought Nazara as he unleashed a storm of emerald particle beams from his drones, with the Valkyrie either smoothly slipping between them or blocking them on crimson energy shields that appeared over her Gundam's outer pair of wings, it might just be time to drop the charade.

He pulled back, holding his violet beam saber in front of him diagonally as he fended off a round of swift slashes from his foe. As he did so, his left hand went to his dark grey and red mask, and he removed it a moment later. Now, at long last, his true face was reflected on the screens of his mobile suit.

It wasn't exactly the face that the man who'd ordered his creation might have wanted, but the Colonel actually thought it was better this way. Without the mask restraining it, his long blond hair fell to his shoulders, and when combined with the series of shrapnel scars that ran across the middle of his face it gave him the look of a barbarian warrior from a bygone era. The pale complexion and deathly cold blue eyes remained the same as his template, but he had become so much more than his originator.

You couldn't even fly a basic mobile suit, he thought disdainfully of the man whose genes he shared, yet here I am, taking the fight directly to one of the Coordinators that you dedicated your life to exterminating! I will do what you failed to, and so much beyond.

"Call me whatever you want, Coordinator bitch!" he snarled as he surrounded her with his drones and opened fire, only for her to gracefully zigzag through the bolts and drive him back with her blazing sword, "It will make no difference when I put you in the ground!"

She laughed again, as if she didn't have a care in the world. "Take your best shot! Far better than you have tried!"

The disdain in her voice was readily apparent, and it made Nazara's blood boil. He lunged his machine forward, but the Colonel soon found himself playing right into her hands. The Valkyrie slipped to the right before making a swing with her Heat Rod, and the whip shredded the Nosferatu's beam rifle. Nazara pulled back and unleashed another barrage with his drones and shoulder cannon to keep her at bay, all the while cursing himself for letting her bait him like that.

The momentary distance from the crimson mobile suit gave Nazara a chance to check on the Destroy. Sure enough, Rosa had followed his orders, and the Destroy was just finishing its shift from mobile armor to mobile suit form. As impossible as it might've seemed to an outside observer, the machine was now even taller that it had been in its previous configuration. If the denizens of Berlin and the city's defenders had thought the first version was a nightmare, the second would be even worse. It could no longer use the set of Aufprall Dreizehn high energy Beam Cannons on its back, but that was hardly an issue; it now had so much more at its disposal.

With its chest exposed, the Destroy could now unleash the three Super Scylla 1580mm Multi-phase Energy Cannons that were mounted in a horizontal row on its upper torso. The weapons on its head also now had clear fields of fire, and while no one would be impressed by the four Igelstellung 75mm CIWs mounted there, the Zorn Mk2 200mm Energy Cannon in its mouth was much more formidable. When combined with the three chest cannons, the raw destructive power that could be unleashed in a single direction by the machine was utterly staggering, and it was no less than ruinous when used in a dense urban area like Berlin.

Perhaps the most unique and dangerous weapons of the Destroy, though, were its arms. With most mobile suits, the arms and hands were simply the means by which they used their main armaments, but the Destroy took it in another direction; its arms were weapons in and of themselves. Each forearm was actually a Sturm Faust Detachable Arm Beam Cannon. Just as the name itself stated, they were capable of splitting off from the rest of the limb and serve as wireless remote-controlled weapons platforms, similar to the drones of the Nosferatu but far more powerful.

While there might only be two of them, each of these large drones were formidable. There was a large triangular shield over each one, with the tip of the shield housing a beam cannon. Each of the five fingers on the detached hands also had a beam cannon mounted within, allowing the drones to put out a withering volley. In addition to these armaments, each arm also housed the same Positron Reflector Shield systems as the one mounted on the Destroy's backpack. These were built into the triangular shields over the arms, and they were just as potent as the one mounted on the great disk that was so prominent in the unit's mobile armor configuration.

Switching over to the tactical channel, he contacted the Destroy's pilot. "Rosa, do you see these meddlers? They're carrion fowl, vultures come to feast upon your flesh!"

Nazara grinned as he watched the girl on his screen give a bestial snarl at the sound of her trigger phrase. "I'll rip them all apart!"

The Colonel laughed maniacally. "Yes, you shall! Show them how powerful you are! Show them what will happen should they try to lay so much as a finger upon you!"

Show them that their time has finally come, Nazara thought as he deflected a blinding fast series of strikes from the Valkyrie, and that the only thing they'll find here is a fiery grave!

….

Juking and weaving the Skygrasper through a hail of particle beams, Shinn let out a string of curses under his breath. He was really missing the Impulse right now; at least he could tank enemy fire on its shield. Sure, since the Skygrasper had the Aile Striker Pack equipped, it technically had a shield as well, but it was running along the left side of the fighter, and only the rear half of it at that. It wasn't like he could swing it around in front of him. His only real protection was the blue and white fighter's speed, and it made Shinn feel very exposed. He had a newfound respect for the Alliance pilots who had flown mobile armors and fighter jets against mobile suits during the last war, along with a grim understanding of why their casualty rates had been so high.

If I make it through today alive, that'll be a miracle, he thought as he frantically zigzagged across the sky, I can't believe I let Heero talk me into flying this thing!

It wasn't the first time he'd flown into combat in just a jet rather than a mobile suit; that crazy scheme involving him flying the Core Splendor through the cave network for the sneak attack on the Lohengrin cannons at the Gulnahan Ravine readily came to mind, although that was hardly an experience Shinn was eager to repeat. That had at least been made bearable by the fact that he'd afterwards linked up with the rest of the Impulse's modules and fought the remainder of the battle in the mobile suit. This time, though, he'd be going the entire battle in just the fighter.

At least his role in the engagement was simple; hit and run strikes against targets of opportunity. With the Aile Striker Pack improving mobility while also giving him another beam weapon to work with, the Skygrasper's current configuration was well-suited to exactly that kind of mission profile. Shinn had initially wanted to use the Launcher Striker Pack, but Heero had vetoed the idea due to the fighting taking place in and over a dense urban area. The potential for collateral damage was simply too great, especially with a weapon like the Agni Hyper Impulse Cannon. The former ZAFT Red had reluctantly conceded the point; after all, Shinn had firsthand experience with the consequences of collateral damage in urban environments, and he wanted to minimize the chances of him inflicting that on the poor souls who inhabited Berlin.

Shemei had given them a simple yet effective engagement plan during their final approach to the city. The rest of the strike force had momentarily dropped back while the three Wraiths had activated their Mirage Colloid systems and moved ahead. Once the visible portion of the strike force was picked up by the Atlantic Federation units assaulting the city, the Wraiths had launched their surprise attack on the new black and gold assault mobile suits. They would work to thin their numbers while the Valkyrie went after the purple gun drone machine that Heero had taken on in past battles. Meanwhile, Shinn, La Flaga, Yzak and Dearka would draw the attention of the enemy's air units while Kira attacked the giant machine that was at the heart of this ghastly mess. Shinn could only hope that Heero would finish his duel with the Eurasian Federation ace soon and catch up quickly to support them; they were going to be stretched awfully thin here.

Rolling to the right to avoid another volley of particle beams, Shinn returned fire with the Skygrasper's beam turret and the Aile Pack's rifle. The salvo caught the offending Windam right in the cockpit and blew it apart. Shinn immediately slammed the throttle forward and pulled up, narrowly evading shots from the fallen Jet Windam's comrades. As he rapidly gained altitude, Shinn began making a broad left turn, circling overhead as he set up for his next run.

You can't win a turning fight with a mobile suit in this thing, he reminded himself as he locked onto his target, and you definitely can't take the hits that they can. Don't even try to mix it up like you normally would. Swoop in and out, lead them on a merry chase, and let the others do the heavy lifting.

It was a much more calculated and tactical manner of fighting than Shinn preferred, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He gunned his engines as the Skygrasper went into a dive, and he opened up with a spray of both energy beams and machine cannon rounds. His barrage caught a Jet Windam in the wings and sent it spiraling down out of control. Shinn grimaced as the mobile suit crashed into what looked like an office complex, and he could only pray that it had already been evacuated.

Particle beams from the other Jet Windams nipped at his heels as he climbed again, and lock-on alarms blared in his cockpit. Then a blast of yellow energy melted three of the Atlantic Federation machines that were shooting at him, and two railgun slugs knocked out a fourth. Glancing to the right, Shinn saw the Vayeate Kai, its head looking at him for a moment before its pilot started searching for his next target.

"Thanks for the save, Dearka," said Shinn.

"Don't mention it," the former ZAFT pilot replied.

Dearka wasn't the only one tearing into the Windams; Yzak was getting in on the action as well. The crimson Mercurius Kai had charged right into the middle of the fray, cutting down Atlantic Federation machines left and right with its blazing yellow beam saber. Any that tried to counterattack found their particle beams blocked by the energy field put up by the Gundam's ten Planet Defensors. Shinn envied Yzak's protective umbrella; he would've given his left nut to have something similar for the Skygrasper, if only to ease his nerves.

As Yzak brawled up close and Dearka bombarded from a distance, a third mobile suit flitted in and out of the enemy ranks, picking off Jet Windams with precise shots from its beam rifle and cutting down others with its violet saber before they knew what hit them. Shinn had never really paid close attention to the Tallgeese Kai before, but knowing that its pilot had once flown the fighter that he was using now had given the former ZAFT Red a newfound respect for Mu La Flaga. Sure, the veteran ace's reputation as the Hawk of Endymion had spread far and wide even before he'd swapped out his mobile armors and jet fighters for mobile suits, but Shinn hadn't truly appreciated the man's skill as a pilot until now. He could only marvel at how La Flaga had survived the First Bloody Valentine War piloting such craft, let alone become one of the Earth Alliance's top aces before defecting with the crew of the Archangel. The way he seemed to dance amongst the ranks of the Jet Windams and pick them off without them being able to so much as touch him was unreal. Of course, having four Planet Defensor shield drones to fall back on certainly helped, but the Hawk of Endymion only called upon them sparingly.

The Hawk of Endymion wasn't allowed to work his magic amongst the ranks of the Jet Windams for long, though; another contact was closing fast with the Tallgeese Kai. Shinn immediately recognized it as the black and red machine of Jetstream Sam. He was so used to seeing that mobile suit clashing with the Altron, and it was a bit jarring to realize that Wufei wasn't here to duel the mercenary this time. Shinn was about to radio La Flaga and warn him, but the Tallgeese Kai had already adjusted course and was rushing to meet the Desperado Enforcement machine head-on. The former Earth Alliance ace was only able to get off a snapshot with his rifle before the two mobile suits were in melee range, and sparks flew as they crossed swords.

Shinn didn't have time to watch the unfolding duel, and not just because he needed to focus on his own role in the battle. Another duel was kicking off nearby, one that promised to have a much wider blast radius than the fight between La Flaga and the Atlantic Federation's dog of war. The Freedom had opened up on the monstrosity at the center of all this carnage with every gun at its disposal, only for the mechanical Goliath to render the barrage utterly ineffective. It had detached both of its forearms, and while the right one unleashed a volley of emerald particle beams at Kira, the left one angled itself in front of the massive machine. The air in front of the behemoth shimmered, and all of Kira's shots were deflected.

Crap, thought Shinn as he juked hard to the right to break a lock, that thing's got shields along with all those guns? We might be in trouble here!

As he set up for another run on the Jet Windams, Shinn silently prayed that Heero would show up soon. The enemy clearly had the firepower advantage, and if Terminal wanted to win this fight, they'd have to tip the scales in the other direction before it was too late.

….

It wasn't the first time that Kira had fought against a mobile suit with a metric crap-ton of guns; his clash with Creuset and the Providence in the home stretch of the Second Battle of Jachin Due readily came to mind. In some ways, actually, fighting the Alliance's new behemoth of a machine was easier than his duel with Creuset. ZAFT's legendary masked ace might have been a complete maniac hell-bent on wiping out the entire human race, but his skills as a pilot had been the real deal. When combined with the swarm of DRAGOON gun drones that the Providence had wielded, he had become Kira's deadliest foe by a considerable margin. While the giant that Kira was fighting now appeared to have similar weapons in the form of its detachable forearms, it only had two of them, which meant that keeping track of them was a much simpler matter. Kira still had to watch his back, of course, but it was a much more manageable task here than it had been against Creuset.

However, this new monstrosity had certain advantages that Creuset had lacked. First and foremost were the positron reflectors; if the Providence had been equipped with such devices in addition to its already fearsome arsenal, Kira highly doubted that he would've survived the fight against it. His trademark combat style of picking off the enemy's weaponry was impossible to implement if his foe could simply deflect every shot he fired at them. The sheer size of the machine was also a problem. Sure, it was a large and sluggish target, but it could mount so much in the way of weaponry on its titanic frame that a safe approach vector was incredibly difficult to come by. The Freedom's Phase Shift Armor would protect Kira from the unit's missiles, and his shield could tank most of its beam weaponry, but it had so many guns that the Gundam's shield simply couldn't offer complete protection. Speed and Kira's skill as a pilot were allowing him to keep one step ahead of the intense barrages being put out by the enemy, yet the enemy would only need one or two lucky shots to rob him of that advantage… or his life.

The likelihood of those potential lucky shots was actually amplified by one major difference between whoever was piloting this hulking mechanical beast and Creuset. ZAFT's masked ace had been a madman, but he'd found a way to separate his insanity from his piloting skills and tactical prowess. Creuset had been a fiendishly cunning and capable combatant, and his moves had been marked by cold calculation and ruthless precision. The pilot that Kira was up against now, though, was nothing less than a rampaging beast. They lashed out wildly; there was no method to the madness here. Particle beams and missiles flew everywhere, sometimes only vaguely aimed in Kira's general direction, and often not even that. It was like trying to fly through a tornado that had torn apart an entire village and was throwing the pieces of homes all over the sky. The longer the battle went on, not only would the greater the damage to Berlin be, but the chances of random shots hitting the Freedom and causing meaningful damage or outright destroying the mobile suit went up as well.

Kira frantically juked and weaved across the sky, barely able to snap off return volleys before hitting his thrusters and initiating the next desperate series of evasive maneuvers. Every shot he fired was on target, but none of them could get through the positron reflectors. He knew that their coverage wasn't perfect; it had only taken a few exchanges for him to narrow down where the barriers were being generated from, and there were theoretical gaps that could be exploited. However, any opening in the shields themselves seemed to be filled with a storm of fire from the gigantic mobile suit's insane arsenal. The speed and maneuverability of the Freedom hardly seemed to matter when the enemy could open fire on him from any direction. Kira knew that he needed backup, at least one other pilot who could split the enemy's attention and create an opening for him to get in close so he could put his sabers to use. Unfortunately, all the pilots on the battlefield that were skilled enough to survive such a role were occupied, and Kira didn't want to enlist the remaining local defenders in such a task. He didn't know what they were capable of, and they were already so badly battered and mauled that asking them to help him out against this monstrosity would've been all but a death sentence.

As he dodged a trio of crimson beams from the massive machine's chest, Kira saw a swarm of additional contacts begin to appear on his sensors. Briefly glancing up, he saw scores of Jet Windams descending from on high, along with more of the new black and gold machines. The latter had their falls slowed by a trio of giant industrial-grade parachutes; there had to be transport planes above the clouds that were dropping them in. A desperate situation was already rapidly deteriorating, and it would be all that Terminal's pilots could do to simply survive, let alone defend the burning city.

That was when a familiar and welcome blast of golden-yellow hellfire swept across the sky. Seven Jet Windams and three of the new black and gold mobile suits were blown to bits, and many of the survivors immediately scattered. Checking his sensors, Kira saw a friendly contact racing in from the west; Wing Zero Albion. Briefly pulling back from his clash with the Atlantic Federation's monstrosity, he got a visual on the Gundam, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw that the left machine cannon mounting was a burned-out mess.

Heero actually took damage, Kira thought as he banked hard to the right to avoid a volley of energy beams, What kind of fight did we miss?

Speaking of Heero, his face appeared in the lower left corner of Kira's main monitor a moment later. "Sorry I'm late."

Kira shook his head as he snapped off another volley at the giant mobile suit, only for the positron reflectors mounted on the right detached forearm to tank the shots. "Don't worry about it. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Heero replied as he picked off another Jet Windam with a salvo from his railguns, "Talk about a real mess."

"No kidding!" Kira exclaimed as he weaved through a veritable web of particle beams, "I can keep the big guy busy for a while; help the others thin out the reinforcements!"

It wasn't often that Kira gave orders to Heero, but the Gundam pilot nodded without so much as raising an eyebrow. "Roger that. Soon as we've got some breathing room, I'll come back and help you take this thing down. Be careful."

"You too!" Kira shouted as he unleashed another barrage and saw his shots once again come up short thanks to the giant machine's shields.

The situation was still grim, but their chances were definitely better than they had been just moments earlier. Kira could only hope it would be enough to turn the tide.

….

La Flaga's brow furrowed as he crossed blades with the black and red mobile suit before him. He had to give credit where it was due; Rodrigues knew what he was doing. The mercenary was a solid pilot, and while his machine wasn't able to match the speed of the Tallgeese Kai, Rodrigues more than made up for that with sheer skill. His bladework was superb, and he was always able to meet La Flaga's strikes with smooth deflections and parries. It was no wonder that the man had survived multiple clashes with a Gundam pilot over the course of the war; he had experience and talent that few soldiers could match, and he knew how to use it.

As he drove the mercenary back across the sky, he heard a male voice come over his cockpit speakers, and while La Flaga had never spoken to Rodrigues he knew it was him. "Well, well… first a Gundam pilot, and now the Hawk of Endymion. It's an honor."

La Flaga grit his teeth as he hammered away at the black and red machine with a flurry of blows, only for the enemy to block each strike with practiced ease. "Jetstream Sam, I presume?"

"The one and only," his foe replied as he countered with a thrust that La Flaga was barely able to redirect in time, "No offense, but you're not who I was hoping to fight today. Can't really complain, though. At least you know how to handle yourself. Can't say the same for the poor bastards who were defending this city earlier."

"I know you're a contract fighter," La Flaga growled as he deflected a sequence of swift slashes from the mercenary, "but from the way you fought in the past, I thought you at least had a sense of professional pride. You threw that out the window the second you agreed to take part in this slaughter!"

Much to his surprise, his adversary didn't deny it. "The devil will get his due for this, one way or the other. You think you have what it takes to collect on the bill?"

"I'm sure as hell going to take a shot at it!" La Flaga declared as he quickly pulled up before taking aim with his rifle and letting fly with a volley.

The black and red mobile suit smoothly weaved through the rain of particle beams, and all of his shots hit nothing but pavement. Still, they gave La Flaga a chance to go back on the offensive, and he wasted no time in doing so. Gunning his engines, he charged right back in, and while Rodrigues was able to block his strike the sheer force of the impact pushed his opponent back.

As La Flaga followed up his attack with a series of thrusts, he felt a familiar tingling in the back of his mind. It wasn't the first time the sensation had struck him today; it had been prickling in his head since he and the rest of Terminal's strike force had entered Berlin's airspace. Thanks to the data Heero had recovered from the Lodonia lab, La Flaga could identify the source.

Still hard to believe that they used some of the Mendel work in Azrael's cloning project, he thought in disgust as he pressed his assault against Rodrigues, Knowing that I've got a link to that monster makes me want to puke…

He would've preferred to take on the clone himself, but the Valkyrie had called first dibs. La Flaga wouldn't deny Shemei the fight; not only did she have a nuclear-powered machine just like her opponent, but there was a good deal of poetic justice behind the notion of a Coordinator ace slaying Azrael's duplicate. He didn't know if she'd be able to take him down today, especially since the man had already survived multiple fights with Heero, but he was more than willing to let her take a shot at the Colonel.

She was pressing the bastard hard, but a quick glance at the duel was all La Flaga needed to know that the fight was far from over. Shemei had the advantage in speed, and she was making the most of it, leaving streaks of red light in her wake as she zipped across the sky. She mostly kept the action close, slashing away at her foe with the Epyon Revenant's beam sword and lashing out with her Heat Rod whenever the enemy tried to open up the distance. Unfortunately for her, Nazara had the edge once he got outside of melee range, and he was filling the air around her with particle beams from his six gun drones along with curving crimson plasma blasts from his shoulder cannon. The Colonel would only be able to get a handful of shots off before Shemei closed the distance again and forced him to defend himself with his saber, but so far, he was managing to keep her from landing any major hits.

The wider battle looked little better. Heero's arrival had drawn the attention of most of the enemy reinforcements, and squadrons of Jet Windams were attempting to swarm him. He made them pay for doing so, blasting away with the Twin Buster Rifle and ripping apart any that got close with his beam saber. Still, the Atlantic Federation mobile suits were keeping him occupied, which La Flaga supposed was the whole point. The longer Heero spent trying to thin their numbers, the longer Kira would have to contend with the giant machine ravaging Berlin solo. To make matters worse, La Flaga was already picking up another flight of transport planes approaching the city from the north; another wave of airborne reinforcements was surely imminent.

They wouldn't need all of those just for Berlin, he realized as he made a thrust at the mercenary's cockpit, only for Rodrigues to smoothly parry and counterattack, not with all the firepower that their giant new toy is packing. They were holding those reinforcements in reserve for us, I'm sure of it. Bastards are getting smarter…

La Flaga was about to warn the others when he caught sight of both the Skygrasper and Vayeate Kai rapidly gaining altitude. Shinn and Dearka had already spotted the threat and were attempting to intercept, perhaps even shoot down a transport or two before they could start dropping fresh mobile suits. It was a good move, but it meant that now just Heero and Yzak remained below to contend with the Jet Windams already swarming over Berlin. Wing Zero Albion and the Mercurius Kai were putting a real dent in the enemy's numbers, but both machines were being forced to spread themselves thin. Between the former's wing shields and the latter's Planet Defensors, both were tough nuts to crack, but they weren't invincible. La Flaga could only hope that Dearka and Shinn would return quickly to help out the others, otherwise even Heero and Yzak would soon be in trouble.

Things were little better for the three Wraiths. Adaline, Lan and Priscilla had split up in order to cover more ground and were engaged in brutal surface combat with the Atlantic Federation's new black and gold assault mobile suits. The girls were picking the units off one after another, but there were a lot of them, and their pilots were clearly a cut above the typical Alliance cannon fodder. The initial surprise attack had disorganized them, but the survivors were regrouping and attempting to coordinate a counterattack. The Wraiths had the advantage of being able to go airborne if things got too hairy, but the Alliance pilots had a nasty habit of starting to demolish buildings and target any civilians or Eurasian Federation soldiers they could find the moment the girls broke contact. La Flaga knew that they were engaging in such acts to keep the girls focused on them, which would give the enemy a chance to encircle them. He was sure that the Valkyrie's subordinates were smart enough to figure that out, and he could only hope that they'd be able to manage.

La Flaga didn't envy the task that the girls had before them, and the same went for Kira's. The Freedom's pilot was throwing everything he had at the monster that was at the heart of this catastrophe, but he had yet to make so much as a dent in the thing. Between the truly staggering volumes of fire the giant mobile suit was capable of dishing out and the positron reflectors blocking any shots that Kira was able to send its way, the massive unit was practically an unassailable fortress on legs. La Flaga had grown accustomed to the Atlantic Federation unleashing horrors upon the world, but even he had never imagined them building an abomination like this. The black and gold machines were clearly new model assault mobile suits and would have their place in a conventional order of battle, but this thing was clearly meant for indiscriminate devastation. It would be formidable on any battlefield, yet in La Flaga's eyes the machine was obviously meant for terrorizing civilians and laying waste to urban population centers. Berlin was its first victim, and if Terminal didn't find a way to stop it then the German city certainly wouldn't be its last.

"Disgusting," he growled under his breath as he fell back under a fierce assault from Rodrigues, "That thing's a disgrace to the title of mobile suit."

"For what it's worth, I agree," the mercenary chimed in as he made a series of diagonal slashes that the Hawk of Endymion was barely able to deflect, "It's brute force taken to a ridiculous extreme. No skill is required for a weapons platform like that. You just pull the trigger and let the artillery do the rest. What a joke."

"It's not a particularly funny one," La Flaga replied as he parried a strike and went back on the offensive, driving his adversary across the sky, "and you're lending it support, regardless of what you say about it. I thought you were one of those professionals who had standards. Clearly I had the wrong read on you."

"I honor my contracts," Rodrigues casually shot back as he fended off La Flaga's strikes, "If it makes you feel any better, the only targets I've attacked so far today were all military. The Colonel gets off on this butchery, but it's not my cup of tea."

"Tell that to all the innocent people who've died today!" La Flaga snarled as he redoubled his efforts, hammering the mercenary's defenses with a brutal sequence of slashes, "You might not be killing them personally, but their blood's still on your hands!"

There was no answer from Jetstream Sam as he continued to deflect La Flaga's attacks. Whether that was because the mercenary agreed with the former Alliance ace or was simply too preoccupied with keeping himself alive, La Flaga didn't know. He also didn't care.

On his sensors, he saw two of the transport jets above disappear; Shinn and Dearka had begun their interception. Unfortunately, the other aircraft were already disgorging their Windams and whatever the new assault mobile suits were called, and his display was lighting up with new contacts. A blast from Wing Zero Albion's Twin Buster Rifle lit up the sky, obliterating a dozen machines just as they fell through the clouds, but more took their place. Scattered particle beams and missiles from the surviving Eurasian Federation forces picked off a few more Atlantic Federation units, but it wasn't nearly enough to make a meaningful difference. If something didn't change quickly, Terminal might have no choice but to pull back and leave Berlin to its fate.

And that was when two crimson beams shot out from the west, piercing a pair of Windams and turning them into fireballs. Those beams were swiftly followed by a swarm of missiles, and several more Atlantic Federation machines were blown to pieces by the barrage. A small group of new contacts appeared on La Flaga's console, and he smiled when he saw who they were. Seven mobile suits dived headlong into the fray, and suddenly the odds didn't seem so bad. Three were ZAFT machines, and the remaining four…

…were the Gundams.

….

"Damn it!" Lan hissed as rounds from one of the black and gold machines' autocannon pinged off of her Wraith's Phase Shift Armor, "Piss off already!"

She returned fire, nailing the mobile suit square in the cockpit with a particle beam and blasting the unit apart. Lan didn't have time to celebrate the kill, though; more of the new assault mobile suits were converging on her position, and she needed to deal with them ASAP. Hitting her thrusters, she started to gain altitude, but she'd only climbed a few meters before another one of the Atlantic Federation units let fly with its Heavy Claymores. The large ball-bearings couldn't outright punch through her mobile suit's Phase Shift Armor, but their sheer weight and force was enough to slam the Wraith back into a nearby building and rattle Lan. She hastily snapped off another particle beam and destroyed the offending unit, but she still needed a moment to get her machine back upright, and still more Atlantic Federation mobile suits were closing in.

She'd been fighting alongside some scattered survivors from the city's garrison, but their numbers had been whittled down considerably since the start of the battle. There were only a few Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls left, and they were all damaged to varying degrees. Lan was doing what she could to keep the heat off of them, laying into the Atlantic Federation machines with everything she had, but it just wasn't enough. She'd thought that she and the others had put a dent in the number of those new black and gold assault units in the city, but then the transport jets had shown up and dropped a whole new batch of them.

We're in a real dicey spot here, she thought as she cut a machine in half with her beam saber, I know we had to spread out in order to take out as many of these things as we could, but we can't mutually support each other like we usually do in combat. We need to regroup!

Checking her display, she saw that Adaline and Priscilla were trying to do just that. Both had assembled ad hoc squads around them as they'd saved other Eurasian Federation units from annihilation, and they were slowly working their way block by block in an effort to link up with each other. Lan wanted to join them, but the ragtag gaggle of allies she'd saved over the course of the battle was barely holding on. If she wanted to, she could simply gain altitude and fly over to her friends, but that wasn't an option for the Eurasians with her. They were stuck on the ground fighting tooth and nail with everything they had, and if Lan abandoned them to link up with the other Wraiths, she'd be leaving the local survivors to certain death.

"I'm just too damn nice for my own good," Lan muttered under her breath as she dropped another enemy with a salvo from her railguns, "Shit…"

Try as she might, she just couldn't keep the Atlantic Federation forces away from her allies. In fact, the enemy seemed to be gunning for them with particular zeal. Lan suspected the Americans were looking to make an example of those they'd deemed traitors to the crusade against Coordinators; they probably hated the Eurasians more than they did her at the moment, which was a pretty high bar to clear given all the trouble she and her friends had given them during both the last war and this one.

As she ripped apart a black and gold machine with her saber, she saw another one shred a Dagger-L with its autocannon. Lan swiftly avenged the fallen by destroying the offending unit with a well-placed particle beam, but the rest of her allies were falling like dominoes. Another Dagger-L was pinned against the blackened husk of a bombed-out building, and the assault unit holding it there finished it off by driving its right arm into the machine's torso and then impaling its cockpit with a plasma stake. Lan immediately made the Atlantic Federation pilot pay for that kill by shooting the machine in the back with her railguns, but that meant little when what few Eurasian survivors remained were being picked off left and right.

An alarm rang out, and Lan whirled to counter another machine that was approaching from her right. Her enemy got off the first shot, though, and her Wraith took the ball-bearings from the machine's Heavy Claymores right in the torso. The mobile suit was knocked back into a building, and if it weren't for her helmet Lan would've hit her head and been knocked out cold. As it was, her vision briefly blurred, and she could only snap off a barely-aimed shot with the beam rifle mounted in her Gundam's left shield. She got lucky; the particle beam hit the mobile suit's upper torso and blew the machine apart. As Lan struggled to get her Wraith upright, though, she knew that others were closing in. They sensed an opportunity, and they wanted to seize it.

Start "Enforcement Rush"

Lan had her weapons raised, ready to go down shooting, when her sensors picked up a new contact charging headlong into the fray. Before she could so much as blink, two streaks of silver flashed through the air, and a pair of the black and gold machines were sliced clean in half. A blue and white mobile suit stood before her, two giant curved blades in its hands, and Lan grinned.

It was the Gundam Sandrock Saladin.

Her Desert Prince had arrived.

The remaining black and gold machines were caught completely off guard by this new arrival, and Lan wasted no time in exploiting their shock. She popped off a pair of particle beams, blowing apart one mobile suit and blasting the head off of another. Quatre lashed out with his Heat Shotels again, finishing off the machine she'd damaged and cutting down another. His face appeared in the bottom left corner of her display a moment later, and even through his helmet's visor his concern was clear as day.

"Sorry I'm late!" he called out as Lan got her Wraith back on its feet, "Are you okay?"

"Now that you're here? Absolutely!" she replied, "Thanks for the save!"

"Anytime," said Quatre as he whirled around to cut down a mobile suit that had been trying to backstab him with its plasma stake, "What the hell are these things?"

"No idea," Lan answered as she moved her Wraith so that she was back-to-back with Sandrock Saladin, blasting away at any Atlantic Federation machine that dared to approach, "Some new assault model, I guess. They're a real pain in the ass to fight."

"I bet," said Quatre as he slashed another black and gold unit apart, "Especially when you're trying to protect the locals. I can't believe you were able to keep as many Eurasian soldiers alive as you did!"

Looking around as she blew apart another hostile mobile suit, Lan saw that a few Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls were miraculously still standing. They formed up around Sandrock Saladin and the Wraith; they'd received no orders from either pilot, but the soldiers were clearly smart enough to realize that their best chance at survival was to stick with the Gundams.

"Got a plan?" asked Lan as she stabbed a mobile suit through the cockpit with her beam saber.

"Let's meet up with your friends," Quatre answered while slicing and dicing another one of the black and gold machines, "They look like they could use some help."

Checking her sensor display, Lan couldn't argue with Quatre's assessment. Adaline and Priscilla had just about linked up, but more Atlantic Federation units were converging on their positions. If they didn't get some backup soon, both of Lan's friends and the Eurasian Federation pilots they were trying to protect would be in trouble.

"Copy that," Lan acknowledged as she shot down a Jet Windam that had been lining up for a strafing run on their formation, "You want to take point?"

"We both will," said Quatre before switching over to an open channel, "To the Eurasian Federation forces, this is Quatre, pilot of the Gundam Sandrock Saladin. You want to live to see tomorrow? Stick with us!"

Lan was surprised to hear one of the pilots immediately reply. "This is Lieutenant Werner Siegert. Pretty sure I'm the highest-ranking officer left from our garrison. Our lives are in your hands, Gundam pilot. We're yours to command."

"In that case, form up and watch our backs," Quatre ordered as he cut down another black and gold unit, "My friend and I will clear a path for you!"

Lan smiled as she blew apart a machine that had been angling for a shot at one of the Eurasian units. Things were still looking dicey, but this was definitely a step up from a few minutes ago.

Let's go, lover boy, she thought as she glanced at the Gundam next to her machine, This isn't quite what I had in mind for our big reunion, but seeing as you saved my life, I'll roll with it. Let's make the Americans pay for what they've done here today!

….

Stabbing a black and gold machine in the back before blasting another one with a particle beam, Adaline didn't need to check her sensors to know that she and her companions were in trouble. A handful of Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls were clustered around her, using the blasted remains of nearby buildings as cover while they did what they could to harry the enemy. They didn't have much in the way of firepower, but their desperate shots were at least forcing the enemy to be cautious in their approach, and that gave Adaline a bit of breathing room.

"Pris, where are you?" she asked as autocannon rounds pinged off of her Phase Shift Armor before she blew the machine attacking her apart with her railguns.

"About three blocks east of your position," her friend replied, "We're moving towards you as fast as we can, but the Americans aren't making it easy! They're blocking us on the main road. We could use some help!"

Glancing at her display, Adaline saw that her comrade had a veritable wall of Atlantic Federation mobile suits confronting her and the ragged Eurasian mobile suits with her. Like Adaline, Priscilla was taking point and drawing the bulk of the enemy fire while the allied units accompanying her did what they could to provide support. Were it not for the fact that the Wraith's nuclear reactor gave her Phase Shift Armor virtually unlimited power, her mobile suit would've been torn apart by the fire it was taking.

"Concentrate your fire on the left side of the line!" Adaline ordered as she rounded the corner and drew a bead on one of the black and gold machines, "I've got the right!"

She cut loose with a pair of particle beams and blew her target apart. Priscilla did the same, targeting the opposite end of the enemy's formation, blasting off a mobile suit's head before plugging another shot right into its cockpit. The Dagger-Ls with her opened up with their beam rifles, and those accompanying Adaline joined in as well. Caught in the center of the two pincers, the Atlantic Federation machines withered away.

"Come on!" Adaline called out to the units accompanying her, "You've got your opening. Go!"

Turning around, she set herself up as rearguard while the Dagger-Ls proceeded forward. Adaline let fly with the rest of her Lancer Dart missiles, utterly demolishing two mobile suits and crippling a third. She walked her Wraith backwards along the road, firing off particle beams to discourage pursuit. Checking her sensors, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the soldiers she'd been protecting finally link up with their comrades.

"Small favors," she muttered under her breath as she moved to join them.

"You doing okay?" asked Priscilla as they took cover behind a cluster of charred office buildings.

"Out of missiles," Adaline answered, "but still good to fight. You?"

"Same," said Priscilla, though her voice sounded shaky, "I can't believe they're actually doing this… urban warfare's always ugly, but this is outright barbarism! They're not here to 'restore order' to Berlin, or even conquer it. They're here to annihilate it!"

Adaline nodded grimly as she surveyed the blazing city around them. "I know. The local garrison's been reduced to tatters, and I don't even want to think about the civilian casualties… it's a damn bloodbath."

"I don't understand!" Priscilla cried out as she hit an enemy mobile suit in the shoulder with a particle beam, which Adaline finished off with a follow-up shot, "I mean, I know the Americans want to wipe us out, but going after their fellow Naturals like this… it's insanity!"

"These are the same people who thought cloning Azrael was a good idea," Adaline pointed out, "I think it's safe to say that sanity went out the window long ago."

"You're right," Priscilla replied as she fired off another volley, "and the world's suffering for their madness."

Adaline couldn't argue with that. She'd seen more than her share of brutal battles, both in this war and the previous one, but this was something else entirely. Terminal had dedicated itself to protecting the world from atrocities like this, yet they'd only been able to act after the Atlantic Federation had begun its assault on the city. Even if they drove off the Americans, how many civilians would have already been lost in the carnage?

This is just Berlin, she thought numbly, If the chaotic radio traffic we heard on the way in is any indication, the Atlantic Federation is moving against all of Europe now. How are we supposed to fight this?

"Adaline, look out!" Priscilla shouted.

Adaline's eyes widened as she saw a black and gold machine come out from behind a building. She'd allowed herself to get distracted by what was happening to Berlin, and the enemy had snuck up on her. She took aim and fired off a particle beam, but not before the opposing unit unleashed its Heavy Claymores on her. The large ball-bearings hammered her Wraith and knocked it back against a nearby building. While Adaline's shot had destroyed the unit that had unleashed the storm of metal spheres on her, another one was behind it and rushing forward, the plasma-stake device in its right arm glowing red-hot as it prepared to impale her cockpit.

Then there was a green flash, and the charging machine was sliced cleanly in half. For a moment, Adaline thought Priscilla had saved her hide before remembering that the Wraith's beam sabers were violet and that its particle beams, while destructive, didn't make neat cuts like that. That was when she realized that the emerald crescent was attached to a long pole… which was in turn held by a mechanical Grim Reaper.

A familiar male voice then came over the radio. "Anyone here call for the cavalry?"

"Duo!" Adaline cried out in amazement as she brought her machine upright again.

"The one and only!" he answered as Deathscythe Omega whirled around and cut down another Atlantic Federation machine, "Thought you could use a bit of backup. Good thing I got here when I did, eh?"

"I'll say!" Priscilla replied as she traded fire with a trio of machines approaching from the north.

"We need to link up with Lan," said Adaline as she gave Priscilla some support, with the two of them shredding the three black and gold mobile suits heading towards them with their beam rifles, "Can you help us cut through?"

"You got it!" Duo confirmed, already charging forward and swinging his beam scythe, "One giant hole in the enemy lines coming right up!"

A sweep from the God of Death's signature weapon sliced two Atlantic Federation mobile suits clean in half, while two more fell to fire from Adaline and Priscilla. For the first time since the battle had begun, Adaline finally felt something other than grim resolve and suppressed horror. The situation was still dire, but they at least had a chance to turn things around. It might be too late for the civilians and Eurasian Federation soldiers that had already been mowed down by the Americans, but Terminal could at least make the enemy pay in blood for the carnage they'd wrought today.

You bastards have had your fun, she thought with a grimace as she blew apart another mobile suit with her railguns, and you've racked up quite the butcher's bill. We're going to collect on that now…

…and send you straight to the pits of Hell where you belong!

End "Enforcement Rush"

….

Weaving through the storm of fire being put up by the Atlantic Federation's behemoth, Kira hadn't been blind to the new arrivals. The other four Gundams showing up was most certainly a welcome sight, even if one of them had clearly drifted into ZAFT's camp since their arrival. From what Heero had told him, though, Kira didn't think that Wufei would be a threat in this battle; he might have been hard to understand, but he had a sense of honor, and the Freedom's pilot didn't think that Wufei would attack them under these circumstances.

I have to imagine he's disgusted by what the Atlantic Federation's doing here, Kira thought as he unleashed another salvo from the Freedom's formidable array of weaponry, only for his foe's positron reflectors to fend off the barrage like it was nothing, I don't believe he'd pick a fight with us while we're trying to stop them. At least, I hope he doesn't try to fight us here. We've got enough on our plate as it is.

Fortunately, Wufei didn't look like he'd be a problem today. Altron Custom was already carving through the Atlantic Federation's air units like an emerald buzzsaw, and the burning parts of destroyed Jet Windams were raining down on the city below. His trajectory seemed to be taking him towards La Flaga's ongoing duel with the black and red mobile suit belonging to Desperado Enforcement, which wasn't too surprising given Wufei's record of engaging that particular unit. As for the other Gundams, they had likewise engaged the enemy and had caught the Atlantic Federation completely off guard. Duo and Quatre had gone to help out the three Wraiths, and together they were now in the process of wreaking utter havoc amongst the new model assault mobile suits that the enemy had brought to the party. As for Trowa, he was focusing on the Jet Windams, mowing them down with a hail of bullets and missiles that was occasionally joined by blasts of yellow from his Double Assault Beam Cannon.

ZAFT's contingent was what had Kira concerned, not the Gundam pilots. He already knew that Athrun was present; the twin plasma beams that had heralded the newcomers' arrival could only have been from the Saviour. The crimson ZAFT prototype been in its mobile armor form when it had first shown up, but Athrun had since shifted the unit over to its mobile suit configuration and was working his way through the Jet Windams towards Kira. Kira also spotted two other familiar units; the GOUF Ignited and the Impulse. Based on what Heero had reported, he assumed that the former was still being flown by Heine. The latter was a mystery, though. The Impulse had been Shinn's machine, but obviously he was no longer flying it. Two other ZAFT pilots, Rey and Lunamaria, had been prominent in Heero's earlier reports, so Kira guessed that one of them had to be in the Impulse. Which one, of course, Kira couldn't say for sure. He didn't know their piloting styles well enough to make such assumptions.

As Kira zigzagged through the firestorm unleashed by the gargantuan Atlantic Federation machine, he kept a careful eye on the three ZAFT mobile suits. Hopefully they would recognize that the Americans were the main threat here and concentrate their efforts on them, but there was no guarantee of that. There was also the possibility that these three were just the vanguard and more ZAFT units were on the way. If Terminal's pilots weren't careful, they could easily find themselves caught between two opposing forces that would happily work together to kill them before turning their guns back on each other.

With the Impulse and GOUF Ignited concentrating on the Jet Windams, Athrun was the only one that Kira really had to worry about. Between his violet saber and his beam rifle, he was picking off Atlantic Federation aerial units left and right while working his way towards the Freedom and the massive assault mobile suit. Mere weeks before, Kira wouldn't have had a doubt in his mind as to Athrun's intentions, but now? Nothing could be taken for granted, especially here.

I suppose I'm about to find out just how deep his loyalty to ZAFT really goes, thought Kira as he pulled away from his main target, both to line up another volley and to give himself breathing room in case his old friend had truly become an enemy, Athrun… what's it going to be?

He got his answer a moment later. A flurry of emerald bolts flew forth from the Saviour's beam rifle, and they were aimed at the giant Atlantic Federation mobile suit. The beams all splashed off of the barriers generated by the positron reflector, but it was at least a signal that Athrun was on his side this time. Kira got further confirmation when Athrun, evading the return fire from the grey behemoth, maneuvered behind the massive mobile suit and let fly with another volley. Curiously, this new salvo included shots from his CIWs in addition to the beam rifle. It was utterly absurd; those were meant to shoot down missiles and wouldn't even scratch the paint on such a beast, let alone do meaningful damage.

Athrun wouldn't do something like that for no reason. Backing off a bit further, Kira watched as his old friend made another strike. Once again, the CIWS joined the shots from the beam rifle, and that was when Kira noticed something. Athrun was firing the former in oddly timed bursts. Studying his old friend's shots carefully while simultaneously continuing to evade enemy fire, Kira's eyes widened as he realized something. The CIWS bursts weren't attacks at all.

Athrun was using them to signal Kira via Morse code.

Firing off a salvo from the Freedom's artillery to distract the enemy pilot, Kira's mind raced to decode the message. His Morse was rusty, to say the least, but he was still able to get the gist of what Athrun was trying to say.

'Not here to fight you. On your side. Acknowledge.'

Kira smiled. Adjusting his angle so that the giant machine wouldn't obstruct Athrun's view of him, he made another attack against the rampaging titan. This time, in addition to the Freedom's main guns, he included a few bursts from his CIWS; his reply to his old friend.

'Acknowledged.'

….

Letting fly with both of Altron Custom's Dragon Fangs, Wufei crushed two Jet Windams as casually as one might swat a fly. He didn't pay the subsequent explosions so much as a second's worth of notice; he had much bigger fish to fry than American grunts.

He's here, Wufei thought as he rushed towards the duel between the Tallgeese Kai and the Ronin, I knew he would be, but even so… am I shocked or disappointed? Perhaps both.

He'd learned much about Rodrigues through fighting him since the war had begun. In the beginning, Wufei had assumed that the man had at least some standards, but his view of the mercenary had become more bitter and disillusioned as the conflict continued to rage. Even if he wasn't deliberately targeting civilians, the contract fighter was still partaking in an operation that was geared first and foremost towards the utter annihilation of a major metropolis. Any warrior with a shred of honor and self-respect wouldn't have gone along with this utter barbarism.

It was becoming abundantly clear that Rodrigues lacked that honor and self-respect, at least as Wufei might define it. The mercenary might have been a worthy combatant and duelist, but by simply being present for this display of butchery and doing nothing to stop it, he'd forfeited the right to truly call himself a warrior. Defeating the private military contractor now was about more than simply proving who was the better of the two of them; it was, for Wufei, a mission to rid the world of an accessory to atrocity.

As he ripped apart a Jet Windam with his double-ended beam trident, Wufei reached out to the Tallgeese Kai. "Mu La Flaga, right? Mind if I step in? With all due respect, I'm sure your talents could be put to better use elsewhere on this battlefield."

Although his main motive might've been simply to get Rodrigues to himself, Wufei was being serious with his message. He didn't know the Hawk of Endymion like Heero did, but it was clear that the man was an exceptionally skilled pilot; the fact that he could handle a machine as fearsome as the Tallgeese and was currently dueling Jetstream Sam to a stalemate was proof enough of that. The skill of the pilot and strength of the machine, though, would be better served in taking down the Atlantic Federation's air units and going after the mechanical abomination at the heart of this carnage.

Much to his credit, La Flaga clearly recognized that. "You want this guy? He's all yours."

Rodrigues wasn't about to let him break of casually, but the Tallgeese Kai easily had the Ronin beat in the speed department. La Flaga simply slammed his thrusters in reverse and popped off a volley from his beam rifle to keep the mercenary at bay, then flipped his mobile suit around and jetted off. Jetstream Sam looked for a moment like he might try to pursue, but Wufei didn't give him the chance. He let fly with his left Dragon Fang, with the weapon grazing the Ronin's right side as Rodrigues move to evade just a bit too late. Thanks to the Ronin's Phase Shift Armor, the unit wasn't damaged, but even a glancing hit would still consume precious energy. As he retracted the Dragon Fang, Wufei closed the remainder of the distance and thrust his beam trident forward. The Ronin smoothly deflected the blow, and yet another duel between the L5 native and the mercenary commenced.

"You're late, Wufei," Rodrigues greeted him as he blocked Wufei's follow-up attack, "What took you so long?"

"Had to fly out here from Gibraltar," Wufei snapped back as he whirled his polearm, hammering the mercenary's defenses with a veritable tempest of blows, "I didn't want you to be here, Rodrigues… but I knew you would be. There are no depths you wouldn't sink to in order to satisfy your lust for battle."

"Don't get the wrong idea," Rodrigues replied as he parried Wufei's strike and countered with a thrust, disrupting the Gundam pilot's momentum and putting him on the defensive, "This is hardly the kind of battle I want."

"Tell that to the innocents who've been slaughtered today!" Wufei shouted as he blocked a series of slashes from his foe, "Is there nowhere that you'll draw the line?"

"I won't expect forgiveness or understanding for my actions today," Rodrigues answered as he pressed his assault, "and I do not want them. This is business. I'm a mercenary, remember? My business is war, and war by its nature is dirty business."

"On that, at least, we agree," Wufei growled while deflecting a diagonal slash and countering with a wide swing from his beam trident, forcing his foe to momentarily back off and allowing Wufei to go back on the offensive, "I'd tell you to enjoy the blood money you'll reap from today, but if I have anything to say about it, you won't live long enough to spend it!"

A rueful chuckle from Rodrigues echoed in his cockpit. "Have you tired of our dances, Wufei? I thought you lived for walking that knife's edge between life and death. Where will you find that thrill again when I'm gone?"

"The world's at war," Wufei quipped as he tried to drive his foe into a burned-out building, only for Rodrigues to hit his thrusters and climb, "I'm sure I can find another worthy opponent to challenge. I've already got one in mind."

He chased after the mercenary, with their two machines climbing higher and higher over the burning city as their duel continued. The swirling chaos of the Jet Windams battling the other Gundams and ZAFT's mobile suits was all around them, but no one from either side attempted to interfere in their clash. Their respective weapons left green and violet streaks of light in their wake, flashing like bolts of lightning as they repeatedly clashed.

Rodrigues laughed as the two aces took their fight up into the clouds. "Are you really so desperate to kill me now, Wufei? Why now, of all fights? You claim disgust at who I side with and what I abet, and I can't blame you for that, but it feels like there's something more to it."

"Shut up!" Wufei snapped as he unleashed an emerald cyclone of strikes against his adversary.

In truth, the mercenary wasn't wrong. Wufei's outrage at the Atlantic Federation's atrocity and Rodrigues's tacit support of it was genuine, but there was a deeper reason for why the L5 native felt the need to bring the contract fighter down now more than he had in any previous battle. Not for the first time, he found himself looking into a mirror of sorts as he clashed with Jetstream Sam. His desire, no, need for combat in order to find purpose, to feel alive, had brought the mercenary to this point…

…and could easily take Wufei down the same path.

"Do you really think you have some grand moral high ground?" Rodrigues taunted as he fended off Wufei's attacks, "You remember what ZAFT did during the last war, right? They were just as eager to massacre the innocent as the Alliance, and that was only two years ago! Durandal may talk about rising above past mistakes, but he won't hold to it. When the chips are down, he'll unleash the full brutality of his soldiers upon the world, just like Patrick Zala did! What will you do then, Wufei? You say you fight for justice, but your position with ZAFT isn't all that different from mine with the Alliance. We're both using them to find new battles, and they're using us to fight them!"

Wufei gritted his teeth as he pressed his assault, hammering the mercenary's defenses while the broader battle raged below. "They're not the ones annihilating entire cities!"

"Not yet," Rodrigues replied as he parried a thrust from Wufei and countered with a horizontal slash that forced the Gundam pilot to momentarily pull back, allowing the contract fighter to go on the offensive, "No, the Alliance is the one going all in on the atrocities, but you know just as well as I do that it won't stop there. Escalation is inevitable. Tit-for-tat, eye for an eye, and all the rest. Having a pretty songstress on his payroll won't stop his forces from embracing their lust for revenge. They'll wrap it up in lofty words like justice, but you'll know the truth, won't you? After all, isn't yours the true justice? That's what you tell yourself, right?"

Wufei had no answer as he whirled his double-ended beam trident in front of him to block the mercenary's attacks. No witty retort or righteous proclamation to give his foe. After all…

…how could he counter when part of him feared that his adversary was right?

….

"Shinn, bank right!" Dearka called out, "Now!'

Shinn immediately did so, and not a moment too soon; a volley of emerald particle beams flew through the space his fighter had occupied mere moments ago. The source was a pair of Jet Windams who'd been drawing a bead on him while Shinn had shot down another aerial mobile suit, and the two machines were blown apart a second later by a blast from the Vayeate Kai's heavy Beam Cannon.

Shinn climbed and went into a wide arc as he looked for a target. "Thanks."

"No problem," Dearka replied, "See any more transports?"

Shinn checked both his sensors and the sky around him before shaking his head. "No. Not that we'd be able to do much about them if there were. We got enough to worry about up here as it is."

That much was certainly true. The two former ZAFT pilots had done what they could to take out transports before they could disgorge their mobile suits, but there had simply been too many Jet Windams running interference for Shinn and Dearka to destroy any more than a handful of them. They'd settled into a pattern of Shinn drawing fire from the enemy and setting up ideal shots for Dearka. Since Shinn was in a fighter jet rather than a mobile suit, it led to the Atlantic Federation pilots considering him to be an easier target, so it was all too easy to get them to take the bait.

Not exactly the role I'd prefer to play, Shinn mused as he rolled to the left to dodge another volley of particle beams before blasting the offending unit apart with the Aile Pack's beam rifle, but the Skygrasper's pretty good at it.

The clash for air superiority over Berlin was still in full swing, but the situation wasn't nearly as desperate now as it had been earlier. While Shinn and Dearka had been operating at high altitude trying to thin the herd, Yzak and Heero were mauling the units that descended past the Skygrasper and Vayeate Kai. The occasional blast from the Twin Buster Rifle would slash across the sky, incinerating entire flights of Jet Windams in a river of golden-yellow hellfire, while others would fall prey to either Heero's railguns or beam saber. Those who managed to steer clear of Wing Zero Albion weren't out of the woods by a long-shot, and instead found themselves contending with the crimson sentinel that was the Mercurius Kai. Between his blazing yellow beam saber and precise shots from his beam rifle, Yzak was reaping a rather fearsome toll, and none of the enemy had been able to land so much as a hit in return on him thanks to the energy field created by his Planet Defensors.

Thanks to the arrival of the other Gundam pilots, Yzak and Heero had some much-needed help in the form of Trowa. The Gundam Heavyarms Arsenal was filling the sky with bullets, missiles and the occasional volley of particle beams, making the enemy think twice before coming near him. Thanks in no small part to his efforts, some of Berlin's few surviving defenders had begun to rally beneath Trowa's position, adding what firepower they could to his anti-air umbrella. It wasn't much, but they'd managed to at least carve out a safe pocket amidst the burning city, and Shinn hoped that more Eurasian forces would be able to join them there… assuming there were any left alive.

The other Gundams were hardly standing by idly, either. As he zigzagged through the sky to throw off the aim of circling Jet Windams, Shinn caught sight of the only other Gundam that was operating at a similar altitude to him and Dearka; none other than the Altron Custom. In fact, Wufei had actually climbed above him, with the warrior engaging in a furious duel with the black and red Ronin. Shinn fervently hoped that Wufei would be able to take down Rodrigues for good this time, although that outcome was hardly guaranteed. Altron Custom's beam trident was practically an emerald tornado as Wufei hammered his foe's defenses, but Rodrigues refused to back down. As much as Shinn detested the mercenary, he had to admire the man's skill as a pilot. The Ronin's blade expertly picked off each and every strike Wufei sent his way, and the mobile suit seemed nearly as agile as the Gundam attacking it.

Theirs wasn't the only duel in full swing. Further down, Shinn caught sight of a web of emerald particle beams as the violet gun drone machine clashed with the Gundam Epyon Revenant. The Atlantic Federation mobile suit was unloading on Shemei with every weapon at its disposal, but none of the shots had so much as grazed the Valkyrie. The demonic Gundam was barely more than a crimson streak of light as it zipped through the barrage. Any beam that actually looked like it might be on target was blocked by the energy shields built into the outer wings, and Shemei rarely seemed to have to call upon them. Her foe almost constantly seemed to be falling back, and whenever she closed the distance, it instantly became clear why. The Epyon Revenant was an absolute beast in melee combat; it had been designed precisely for that, after all. Shinn caught sight of brief flashes as the Gundam's beam sword crashed against the violet saber of its foe, with the enemy able to do little more than block while bringing their gun drones back in an effort to catch Shemei in flanking fire. One such attempt was underway now, but this time it was met with a wide swing from the Gundam's Heat Rod. The red-hot whip caught one of the two new smaller gun drones and shredded it, and while Shemei was still forced to break off due to another barrage from the remaining five drones, first blood was still hers.

Of course, the amount of fire that the violet mobile suit could put out paled in comparison to what was being unleashed by the giant machine at the heart of this battle. The dark grey titan was letting fly with beams and missiles in every conceivable direction as the Freedom and Saviour bobbed and weaved around it looking for openings to counterattack. They'd been joined by the Tallgeese Kai, and the pilot of the behemoth seemed to be succumbing to panic as they struggled to fight the three aces. While Shinn supposed the enemy pilot was trying to aim, the barrages of missiles and salvos of energy beams really just seemed like wild thrashing more than anything else. They were dangerous, sure, but there was no method to the madness. If anything, they were more of a threat to the city of Berlin itself than they were to Athrun, Kira and La Flaga. Still, the trio of aces hadn't been able to land a solid hit on the giant yet; every shot they took was blocked by the machine's positron reflectors. Beam sabers were almost certainly the way to go, and Shinn saw all three Terminal aces attempt to move in, but getting in close was devilishly tricky when the enemy could unleash withering barrages in just about any direction at will.

Popping off a shot at a Jet Windam that struck his target in the back, Shinn then took the Skygrasper into a steep dive to evade fire from the fallen machine's allies. Pulling up and banking left a few seconds later, Shinn caught sight of Deathscythe Omega and Sandrock Saladin to the north. The two Gundams were fighting alongside the three Wraiths and a handful of Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls, and they were wreaking a bloody toll on the Atlantic Federation's new black and gold assault mobile suits. A wide swing from Duo's signature weapon cut one machine clean in half, while Quatre sliced and diced another with his twin Heat Shotels. Having fanned out around the two Gundams, the three Wraiths were letting fly with their beam rifles and railguns, picking off any Atlantic Federation mobile suit that tried to flank their allies. As for the Eurasian Federation Dagger-Ls, while they couldn't hold a candle to their allies, they were still doing what they could to provide support with what functioning weaponry they had left. With their combined efforts, they'd carved out what might pass for a safe zone in the midst of the carnage, and Shinn hoped that any surviving civilians trapped in the city might be able to find temporary refuge in their midst.

While Shinn was more than thankful for the arrival of the other Gundams, it was the ZAFT pilots who had accompanied them that he was worried about. Since the Saviour seemed focused on helping Kira and La Flaga take down the giant assault machine, it appeared safe to rule out Athrun as a threat, but the same could not be said for the GOUF Ignited and Impulse. So far, both machines were fighting Atlantic Federation air units, and the former looked focused on doing just that, but the latter was gradually making its way towards Shinn. Seeing his former mobile suit fight without him at the controls was a rather surreal experience for Shinn, to put it mildly.

They shipped down a backup Core Splendor module faster than I thought they would, Shinn thought as he twisted and weaved through enemy fire while setting up for another attack run, I was hoping my theft of the original would keep the Impulse off the field for a while. Looks like I was wrong about that. Who's piloting it, though?

He could rule out Heine; the presence of the GOUF Ignited was proof enough of that, and the orange machine was still fighting in the same manner it had the last time Shinn had seen the FAITH operative in action. That just left Lunamaria and Rey, and the more Shinn watched his old mobile suit in action, the stronger his suspicions became that the latter was the one in the cockpit. The way the mobile suit was maneuvering through the whirling mess of Jet Windams and Gundams definitely reminded Shinn of Rey, as did the focus on precision and high-speed attacks. Lunamaria tended to favor raw firepower, although the fact that her unit was always a ZAKU Warrior with the Gunner Wizard Pack equipped did end up forcing her into that role. No, the new pilot of the Impulse had to be Rey.

And he was heading Shinn's way.

Had Rey likewise already determined what unit Shinn was flying? Shinn wouldn't put it past his old friend. Rey wasn't talkative, but he was smart and observant; it was completely possible that he'd identified Shinn just by comparing his piloting of the Skygrasper with how he'd flown the Core Splendor on the few occasions he'd used that module separate from the Impulse itself. If he had indeed done so, then that raised a very disturbing possibility. The enemy here was without a doubt the Atlantic Federation, but Rey might have had another goal in mind apart from battling the Alliance; executing a traitor.

That's what Shinn was, after all. The former ZAFT Red didn't see it that way, of course, but he could hardly count on hid former comrades to share his take on the matter. He had helped a prisoner escape and absconded with a sophisticated piece of military hardware. Shinn might not have been aiding ZAFT's direct enemy, but Terminal was an independent faction, one that seemed increasingly likely to come to blows with ZAFT in the near future. Hell, it already had, and twice for that matter; fending off the attempt on Lacus's life, and Heero's diversionary raid on Gibraltar. The former might have been unacknowledged by ZAFT due to the secretive nature of that particular operation, but the latter clash had taken place out in the open for all to see.

Shinn was now flying as an ally of the man who had claimed the lives of many ZAFT pilots, which meant that, in the eyes of his former superiors, his old friend had every right to kill him. Would he make such an attempt here, though? That was the million-dollar question, and one that Shinn did not have an answer for.

"Please, don't do this," Shinn whispered as he locked onto another Jet Windam and let fly with the Skygrasper's beam turret and medium caliber cannons, ripping his target to shreds, "Come on, Rey…"

As if simply muttering his old friend's name had summoned him, a familiar voice suddenly came over the Skygrasper's cockpit speakers. "Shinn… I thought you'd be here."

Shinn gritted his teeth as he cautiously pulled up and went into a wide arc, doing what he could to keep at least a few Atlantic Federation mobile suits between himself and the Impulse. "Of course, I'm here, Rey. I'm not with ZAFT anymore, but I'm still fighting the Alliance. Their rampage here has to be stopped!"

"At least we're in agreement on that," Rey replied as he blocked a Jet Windam's beam saber with the Impulse's shield before striking the offending machine down with his own energy blade, "It might be the only thing we still agree on. I don't know what happened, but you're not you anymore, Shinn."

Shinn sighed as he rolled his fighter to the left to evade enemy fire. "I won't ask you to understand why I left, Rey. I'm still me, though. Still the same Shinn Asuka that you, Luna and the others knew."

"I don't know if I can believe you," Rey shot back as he whirled around to tank beam fire on the Impulse's shield, "None of us ever imagined you abandoning us. Taking the prisoner's one thing, but going along with Heero Yuy? I thought you hated him. What changed?"

"He helped open my eyes to the big picture," said Shinn as he took the Skygrasper through a series of climbs and dives to throw off the enemy's aim, "I don't have time to explain it here, Rey! We've got more important things to worry about. Are you here to help the people of Berlin, or are you here to fight me? Pick one, now!"

"I already have," Rey replied as he shot down a Jet Windam, "Our mission here is to stop the Atlantic Federation's rampage and save the city, and that's what we're going to do."

Shinn breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay… thank you."

"Don't bother thanking me," Rey snapped, "Sooner or later, you're going to have to face the consequences of your treachery. It might not be today, but it will come eventually. ZAFT will not forgive your betrayal, Shinn… and neither will I."

….

He's a tricky bastard, Shemei thought as her Gundam twisted and weaved through a barrage of emerald particle beams, I always wondered why Heero wasn't able to land a killing blow on him yet. The guy might be a clone of Azrael, but he's no slouch as a pilot.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw the violet mobile suit's shoulder cannon glow, and she was more than ready when a crimson beam shot forth a split second later. As fiendish as the Epyon Revenant's version of the ZERO System was, it definitely made dodging the subsequent curving energy blast easier. To Shemei, it almost felt as though the Gundam itself was projecting disgust towards her opponent's preferred style of combat. She'd never sensed anything like it from another mobile suit, but Shemei supposed that was because she'd never flown a Gundam like the ones that had originated in Heero's world before.

"I feel you, big guy," she muttered under her breath as she gracefully guided her mobile suit through the storm of fire, "This punk just loves to hide behind his toys, doesn't he? Let's show him how we feel about that!"

Closing in to strike, she led with a wide swipe from her Heat Rod. It didn't connect with the enemy machine directly, but then again, the mobile suit itself wasn't her target. The blazing whip wrapped itself around the second of her foe's new and smaller drones, quickly reducing the weapon to scraps and sparks. Now that both of the sleeker and more maneuverable drones were destroyed, her fight would become that much easier.

Her next strike was with her beam sword. She brought her blade down in a diagonal slash, aiming right for her adversary's cockpit. Alas, the clone had sharp reflexed, and he was able to bring his beam saber up to block the blow in time. Shemei swiftly followed up with another swing from her Heat Rod, this time going for the enemy machine's legs. The violet mobile suit gunned its thrusters and climbed, barely avoiding the whip. Its four remaining gun drones rose with it, and it proceeded to rain fire down on Shemei with those, its rifle and shoulder cannon. She slammed the throttle down in response, and the Epyon Revenant shot forward like a bat out of Hell. The sheer force of the acceleration threw the Valkyrie back in her seat, and it took considerable effort for Shemei to keep herself conscious.

Shemei grimaced as she saw particle beams meant for her devastate a city block, reducing a shopping district to ash and flame. She hoped that the locals had long since evacuated the area, but of course it was impossible to know for sure. How many lives had the Atlantic Federation utterly ruined today with their monstrous assault? How many dead and wounded were there so far? How many more would live with the trauma from today for the rest of their lives, waking up in cold sweats as images of a city ablaze assaulted them in their dreams? Just thinking about it made her sick.

If there's a Hell, Azrael had better be suffering in its deepest circle, Shemei thought as she charged her foe, and they'd better be saving a place right next to him for his twisted doppelganger!

She closed in before her foe could fire off another volley with his array of artillery and made a broad swing with her Heat Rod. The enemy slammed their thrusters in reverse, but they weren't quite fast enough; the tip of the whip sliced through the barrel of the violet mobile suit's shoulder cannon, rendering the weapon useless. It was one less gun that Shemei would have to worry about dodging, and the fact that it was the weapon that could bend its shots was a bonus. She followed it up with a thrust from her sword, trying to take out the enemy's beam rifle. Unfortunately, this time her foe was able to deflect the strike with their beam saber, and a fresh clash of energy blades began.

"As relentless and ruthless as your machine's demonic visage might suggest," she heard her foe praise over the radio, "It's a pity that your parents made you a Coordinator; the Alliance could use more pilots with your abilities. An even greater pity that we weren't able to kill you back when you were in Cairo."

"Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" Shemei casually shot back as she pressed her assault.

"Hardly," Azrael's clone replied as he fell back, and Shemei didn't need her sensors to know that the remaining four gun drones were arraying themselves around her, "Killing you today will rectify that mistake."

Shemei laughed as she suddenly ascended, with the particle beams from the four gun drones harmlessly sailing through the airspace she'd occupied just a split second ago. "Take your best shot, you son of a bitch! I've fought far better than you and lived to tell the tale!"

As if to drive her point home, she twisted the Epyon Revenant and dived just as quickly as she'd climbed. Her target wasn't the enemy mobile suit itself, though. Instead, she went for the drones. A swipe with her Heat Rod ripped one of them to shreds, and she was able to strike down another with her beam sword before her foe was able to pull the remaining two out of her reach. A volley of fire from those two drones and the enemy's beam rifle forced her to go evasive, but Shemei was still satisfied with the damage she'd inflicted.

Whittling down his arsenal isn't my preferred method of fighting, she thought as she zigzagged through the emerald bolts, but I'll do what I must. If I can't outright kill him, I can at least rip out his teeth one by one!

….

As much as he hated to admit it, Nazara was still capable of recognizing that events were no longer playing out the way he'd anticipated. The arrival of Wing Zero and its affiliated mobile suits had been predicted, but his intended countermeasures hadn't worked. Mihaly had inflicted damage to the Gundam, but the Eurasian Federation ace had only taken out one of Heero Yuy's weapons, and a minor one at that. The Gundam was still tearing through the Atlantic Federation air forces, whether it be with railguns, its fearsome rifle, or beam saber; losing a single machine cannon was hardly a major blow.

Damn you, Mihaly, the Colonel silently fumed as he blocked a slash from the Valkyrie's beam sword, I always knew you were overrated! They should've put you out to pasture and given the Wyvern to a pilot who wasn't a deluded old man seeking to recapture his glory days…

Nazara had set aside considerable reserves for the operation with the intent of bringing them in to swarm and exhaust an already-tired and battered Heero Yuy before he himself moved in for the killing blow. That was no longer possible in no small part because Mihaly had clearly failed in his assignment. The mobile suits that had accompanied Wing Zero were simply making things worse, ripping through both the Jet Windams and Grognards. For a while, the Atlantic Federation had still possessed the upper hand, but the arrival of the remaining Gundams and three of the ZAFT machines that were known to be stationed aboard the Minerva had only sown further disarray in the Colonel's forces. Nazara still had the numbers, yet he knew that advantage would not last much longer.

The Destroy wasn't faring much better. True, the behemoth hadn't taken any actual damage yet, but its offensive had been stalled. Rosa was surrounded by the Freedom, the Saviour, and the strange blue and white machine that had first appeared during the last war; Atlantic Federation intelligence had never actually figured out what it was called. The pilot was rumored to be the Hawk of Endymion, though, and Nazara was more than willing to believe those rumors based on the machine's performance. The trio of mobile suits were still struggling to deal with the Destroy's formidable array of artillery and the protection provided by the positron reflectors, but it was just a matter of time before they found a gap to exploit. Rosa wasn't equipped to deal with methodical and skilled aces like these; she was a blunt instrument, nothing more.

Then, of course, there was his own personal situation. He was already down the two smaller and more agile drones thanks to the Valkyrie, and she'd taken out two of the larger ones as well. Combine that with the fact that she'd rendered the Nosferatu's shoulder cannon inoperable, and the Colonel's available firepower had taken a serious hit. He could still fend off his foe's attacks for now, but Nazara knew that it wouldn't last. The Valkyrie's demonic machine was a perfect counter to his own, a crimson devil built for lightning-fast close quarters combat. Once she'd started picking apart his drones, the writing was on the wall.

It was time to call in reinforcements. Force B was still deployed east of the city, and there had been no sigh of the Eurasians massing for any kind of organized counterattack. Checking his display, Nazara prepared to contact them…

…and that's when he realized that something was very wrong.

Earlier in the battle, he'd noticed that Force B had split into two groups, and that said groups almost appeared to be facing off with each other. Well, that situation had dramatically escalated while Nazara had been dueling the Valkyrie. The contacts that represented Force B on his sensors had been considerably reduced in size… and more were vanishing with each passing minute. His reserves were fighting each other.

In concentrating on fighting the Valkyrie while watching Force A burn Berlin to the ground, Nazara had completely missed the fact that a damn mutiny had broken out.

….

Europe was a rather long ways from the traditional stomping grounds of the Earth Alliance's South Pacific Brigade, but once they'd been folded into Phantom Pain in the leadup to the Second Bloody Valentine War the unit had been all over the map. An elite mobile suit unit, it had been hastily added into the secretive organization to provide extra firepower, as well as serve as a testing unit for the new assault mobile suits. In fact, the original prototype that had led to the development of the Grognards was with them, and its pilot was one of the men who had taken one look at the carnage being wrought in Berlin and decided that enough was enough.

Sitting in the cockpit of the GAT-01CX Demolition Dagger, the twenty-two-year-old Kyle Eisen didn't look at first glance like the kind of man who might revolt against his superiors. Tall and quiet, the brown-haired pilot normally had a cold or just downright apathetic look in his obsidian eyes. He wasn't some wide-eyed idealist; he was a professional soldier who typically just wanted to carry out his mission and come out alive at the end of the day. To anyone who didn't know him, he might seem like the kind of pilot who would enforce his superiors' orders without a second thought, no matter how brutal they might be. That was where they were wrong, though. War was hell, but true soldiers had standards, and the utter barbarity of what his superiors were inflicting upon Berlin was far beyond the pale. So, Kyle and a few of his comrades had decided to do something about it.

Mutiny wasn't on the agenda when I woke up today, Kyle mused grimly as he shredded a Jet Windam with the Demolition Dagger's three-barreled autocannon, but then again, neither was taking part in razing an entire city to the ground. Colonel Nazara, consider this my resignation.

It felt a bit strange, drawing the line here. After all, he'd served with the Earth Alliance throughout the entirety of the First Bloody Valentine War, and there had been plenty of massacres on both sides to go around. Then again, the South Pacific Brigade hadn't been directly involved in any of those, which for Kyle was probably why he'd stuck around. He'd been involved in just the straight-up fights. Rumors had run rampant, of course, but the full truth of the matter hadn't come to light until the end of the conflict. Perhaps if he'd been ordered to take part in the slaughter of POWs or civilians directly, he might've broken away back then and joined the renegade faction that had popped up, that strange amalgamation of Alliance, ZAFT and Orb soldiers who had ultimately been the ones to truly end the war.

Instead, he'd ridden things out, surviving even Boaz and Second Jachin Due. Of course, with nukes and GENESIS coming into play then, the writing had been on the wall, but Kyle hadn't gone rogue. At that point, he'd felt like he was in too deep. In his eyes, best he could've done was try to keep his comrades alive in those final desperate battles and hope someone else would clean things up. As it turned out, someone had, in the form of those renegades. The war had ended without Naturals and Coordinators wiping each other out, and Kyle had gotten on with his career, but there had always been a sense of guilt lingering in the back of his mind. He was a professional who had fought cleanly and followed orders, and in the past that had been enough.

The two years in between the First and Second Bloody Valentine Wars, though, had given him plenty of time to think. When tensions between the Alliance and ZAFT started heating up again, it hadn't been too hard to see where things were going. Kyle and his unit had been on the surface when the action kicked off in earnest, so thankfully he'd missed out on the utter debacle that was the Alliance's opening assault on L5. Still, it hadn't exactly been hard to find out about what his side had tried to do to the Coordinator homeland. The fact that the Alliance had attempted to repeat what it had tried during the Second Battle of Jachin Due had struck a nerve with Kyle, but he'd mostly kept quiet about it. The only person he'd confided his doubts in had been the man in charge of designing and maintaining the machine he was piloting now.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath as he took cover behind the charred carcass of a Grognard, "I guess I'd better give James a heads up on what's going on. He'll need to get clear."

Part of him wondered why he was bothering. The man he was trying to warn was a self-professed sociopath, after all; the only thing the guy cared about was science. That even extended to his odd friendship with Kyle in that the man really only thought of the pilot as a component for the mobile suit. He was an oddball and pain in the ass, to put it mildly… and yet, it had been hard not to grow fond of the guy. In his own way, the man had come to understand Kyle in a way that others hadn't. So, if only because he didn't want to lose the one person who could offer interesting and occasionally mildly horrifying topics of conversation when he was bored, Kyle needed to make sure the eccentric professor knew what kind of heat was probably about to come down on him.

A thin and lanky man with silver-white hair and greyish blue eyes appeared in the bottom left corner of the display. "Oh ho, what's this? Throwing off the yoke now, Kyle?"

Kyle blinked; had the madman become a mind-reader while he wasn't looking? "Yeah… something like that. They're torching Berlin and everyone inside it. I'm not being a party to that."

James Earl Asplund gave a theatrical sigh as Kyle's mobile suit shuddered from nearby missile detonations. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped. Once I saw the data from the assault come in, I figured it'd be just a matter of time before you decided to object. Let me guess; you're calling now because you're concerned about little old me?"

"You need to get out of there," Kyle replied as he forced a Grognard to temporarily back off with another burst from his autocannon, "I know you don't give a damn about any of this, but the higher-ups will go after you simply because you're associated with me."

The mobile suit designer actually laughed. "Oh, Kyle, as if I hadn't already prepared for just such this moment! As it turns out, most of the crew shared your objections to such wanton destruction and slaughter, and going along with them was the path of least resistance. We're already on the move. I'll be sending you our coordinates shortly. I'm assuming you'll want to stick around and do what damage you can to our former allies before calling it a day?"

Kyle nodded. "Pretty much."

James smiled. "Called it! Well, just make sure you bring my precious Demolition Dagger back in one piece afterwards. Oh, my prototype going up against the mass production versions… I can't wait to review the combat data! Ciao!"

He took that in stride, Kyle thought as the scientist disappeared from the screen, Just when I thought I had the guy figured out…

James definitely had more than a few screws loose, but Kyle would say this much for him; the man knew how to make a damn good mobile suit. The red and black GAT-01CX Demolition Dagger had been the precursor to the newer Grognard, but just because it was older didn't mean it couldn't hold its own. Using the GAT-01 Strike Dagger as a base, the unit had been designed as a new assault mobile suit. It shared many of the armaments of the Grognard, including the autocannon on the left arm, the missile launchers mounted on the back, and the shoulder-mounted Heavy Claymores. The unit also had a Revolving Stake mounted in the right arm with six charges, although in this case it was a physical stake rather than one using plasma. Rounding out the arsenal was a Heat Horn, protruding from the unit's head. Comprised of basically a metal shaft lined with energy emitters in a manner similar to an anti-ship sword but on a smaller scale, it was a last ditch close-quarters weapon that literally allowed the Demolition Dagger to head-butt its foes to death.

While the unit definitely had the armament needed for a frontline close assault mobile suit, only the prototype had been produced before the line of development had moved on. The reasons were simple; balance and weight. The Demolition Dagger was simply trying to put too much on the frame of the Strike Dagger, and even reinforcing said frame hadn't proven to be an adequate solution. The machine was unwieldy and difficult to maneuver even in basic exercises, let alone the chaos of combat. Ultimately, the only viable solution had been to design a larger and bulkier machine capable of properly balancing the bulk of the Demolition Dagger's armaments, hence the eventual progression to the Grognard. That had left the prototype seemingly doomed to languish in storage as an oddity or to be stripped for parts, but it had been spared that fate thanks to Kyle. He'd been one of the test pilots for the machine, and the only one who'd been able to make it work for him. Not wanting to waste a unit when at least someone could use it properly, the Demolition Dagger had been assigned to him, and the rest was history.

Now the prototype had to prove itself against its successors, and that was definitely an uphill struggle. Up in space, the weight issues of the Demolition Dagger could be minimized, but down on Earth Kyle had to deal with the balancing problems in all their ungainly glory. A single misstep could send the unit crashing to the ground, and that would be fatal in a clash like this. Still, Kyle at least had experience going for him, and he was making full use of that here.

Unleashing the last of his missiles, he blasted a Grognard to bits while kicking up smoke and debris that temporarily obscured the vision of others. That was Kyle's opening, and he charged right in. He let fly with his Heavy Claymores, and the giant ball-bearings did their job with brutal efficiency, shredding one Grognard and knocking another back on the ground. Kyle finished off the latter with a Revolving Stake right to the cockpit, but he had no time to savor his victory. A rain of rockets landed around him as a trio of Jet Windams made a strafing run, with one of them impacting the now-empty Heavy Claymore container on the Demolition Dagger's right shoulder. The blast completely wrecked the joint, leaving the mobile suit's right arm to dangle uselessly at the machine's side, connected only by hydraulics lines, wiring, and some severely strained strips of metal.

Kyle raised his autocannon and was able to take down one of the Jet Windams with a burst, but the other two already had their beam rifles aimed at him. Before they could fire, though, streams of autocannon rounds ripped them apart. Looking behind him, Kyle saw two of the Grognards that had sided with him early in the mutiny, smoke wisping up from the barrels of their weapons.

"We should get out of here," one of the pilots suggested, "We don't have the numbers to keep this up!"

It was tempting to agree. The mutineers had definitely been in the minority at the start of the battle, and their numbers had only been further whittled down since then. They'd been reduced to Kyle and his Demolition Dagger, a barely-intact squadron of Jet Windams trying to provide at least a measure of air support, and a handful of Grognards who were fighting tooth and nail to hold their current position. Their former comrades had been bloodied considerably, but this had been a war of attrition from the start, and it was one Kyle knew they couldn't win.

Kyle wasn't one for lost causes or futile last stands. The pragmatist and tactician in him wanted to call the retreat, and it wouldn't necessarily be the wrong decision to make… yet he hadn't done so yet. Falling back would preserve their limited numbers and give them the chance to fight another day, but that would also give the remainder of Force B that was still loyal to the Atlantic Federation the opportunity to join the greater battle raging in the heart of the city. How many more civilians would be slaughtered if that happened? Their blood might not be directly on Kyle's hands, but that would be cold comfort at best.

"Damn it all," Kyle muttered under his breath as he popped off a burst with his autocannon at an approaching Grognard, which was joined by supporting fire from another one of the mutineers and managed to bring the machine down, "What the hell are we supposed to do here?"

It was at that moment his console beeped, and several new contacts showed up in the east. Checking their IFF signals, Kyle saw that they were Eurasian Federation units. Belatedly, he remembered that Force B's original purpose had been to prevent Eurasian reinforcements from getting to Berlin. Ironically, now those very reinforcements might be just what Kyle and his allies needed to get out of this mess alive.

Only about a few squads of Dagger-Ls, he thought, I guess they're having trouble coordinating forces. Can't blame them given all the chaos. Still, we can make this work…

"Everyone, with me!" he ordered, "Someone get on the radio with those Eurasian units coming in; tell them we're on their side. I'll take point and try to make a breach. If we can punch through and link up with them, we've got a chance!"

A chance for survival and to save innocent lives. Not much of a chance, but a better one than Kyle and the mutineers had been faced with just a few moments ago.

He could only hope that it was enough.

….

"We're not getting anywhere with this!" La Flaga shouted as a volley of particle beams from his rifle was blocked by the giant mobile suit's positron reflectors, "If anyone's got a bright idea, I'm all ears!"

So was Kira, although coming up with one while constantly dodging fire from the Atlantic Federation's behemoth wasn't exactly easy. Perhaps between him, Athrun and La Flaga, they could eventually wear whoever was piloting this mechanical beast down, but a prolonged fight wasn't acceptable against a machine that devastated entire city blocks with stray salvos. The Freedom, Saviour and Tallgeese Kai were all still in one piece, but their foe had reduced a swath of Berlin to charred rubble that who-knew-how-many corpses were buried under now. Letting this clash drag on a second longer than necessary was unacceptable, and Kira knew that they needed to change things up now.

A volley of emerald particle beams from one of the detached forearm drones forced Kira to quickly climb to avoid getting perforated. He swiftly returned fire, but his shots were blocked by the positron reflector mounted on the remote limb. That about summed up the engagement in a nutshell; the three of them were too agile for their foe to hit, but the enemy was too well protected for their own shots to get through.

We're going about this the wrong way, Kira realized as his gaze fixated on the detached arm that was taking aim at him again with the guns mounted in its fingers, We're trying to take out the machine while working around its protection, but that's not working. We need to strip it of its protection first!

"Target the arms!" Kira called out as he tanked a volley on the Freedom's shield, "Two of the positron reflectors are mounted on them! If we take them out, that just leaves the one on the main body to worry about, and that'll be much easier to deal with."

"Good idea," La Flaga replied, angling to support Kira as he returned fire against the right arm drone, "We'll take this one first! That'll leave Athrun to draw fire, but he can take it."

Kira hoped La Flaga was right. They couldn't really coordinate with Athrun since his communications were almost certainly being monitored by ZAFT. Even the improvised Morse code message with his CIWS earlier had been risky. Kira could only trust that Athrun would recognize what he and La Flaga were trying to do…

…and that he could survive being the center of this monstrosity's attention for a few minutes.

….

It only took Athrun a moment to understand Kira and La Flaga's intentions as they both suddenly shifted from attacking the massive machine directly and went after the right detached arm. The plan was sound, but if the enemy pilot recognized what it was then they would be in trouble. Athrun knew that at least one of them had to keep attacking the main body of the machine directly in order to ensure success… and that role had clearly fallen to him.

"Okay, then…" Athrun muttered under his breath as he dodged a salvo of crimson beams from the behemoth's chest cannons, "I'm the bait. I can do this… I hope."

The best way to keep the enemy's attention on him was to take them head-on and be as annoying as possible, and Athrun did just that. He peppered the machine with a volley from his beam rifle, and even as the shots were blocked by the positron reflectors he didn't stop there. Athrun swooped in to take a swing with his beam saber, only to have to break off as a burst of emerald beams from the titan's left detached arm drone threatened to blast him full of holes.

Extinguishing his beam saber and putting the weapon away along with his rifle, Athrun then swung the Saviour's two large Amfortas plasma cannons down and under the unit's shoulders so that they were facing the dark grey giant. He let fly with a salvo of two crimson beams, only to once again see these shots blocked as well. Athrun gunned his thrusters and tried to swing around the machine and hit it from the side, knowing full well that he was exposing himself to the ring of smaller cannons that lined the massive disk-like backpack. He took another shot with the Amfortas plasma cannons before immediately breaking off again, and not a moment too soon; a flurry of emerald beams filled the space he'd occupied just a split-second ago.

The fact that he was using his mobile suit's most powerful weapons clearly registered with his enemy, because they proceeded to unleash practically everything they had against him. Emerald and crimson beams filled the sky as Athrun frantically went evasive, while a swarm of missiles flew up from the machine's backpack. Bursts of shells from his CIWS took out a few of the warheads, and another salvo from his plasma cannons destroyed more, but there were plenty left to threaten Athrun. One of them hit the Saviour square in the chest, and the detonation threw Athrun wildly off course. Were it not for his mobile suit's Variable Phase Shift Armor, he would absolutely have bitten the dust.

As he regained control of his mobile suit, Athrun shifted the plasma cannons back to their standby position; he needed to conserve the Saviour's energy now. He drew his beam saber and rifle again, although he only got a few potshots off at his foe before he had to go evasive again courtesy of a volley of particle beams from the left arm drone. Athrun was able to take a few of the shots on the Saviour's aerodynamic shield, but one of the beams did hit his rifle and destroyed it.

"Shit!" Athrun hissed under his breath as he desperately weaved his way through the enemy's barrage, "Come on, Kira! Hurry up!"

Taking a quick glance at his friend, he saw that Kira was making good use of Athrun's little diversion. La Flaga was drawing the fire of the right arm drone, tanking shots on his Planet Defensors, while Kira had gotten into position behind the weapon. The Hawk of Endymion then suddenly broke to the right, and at that moment the Freedom cut loose with every gun it had. The drone couldn't maneuver in time to bring its positron reflector into the proper position, and it was shredded by the barrage. One down, one to go.

Athrun hoped number two wouldn't take long. Aside from the fact that he was still drawing the bulk of the giant mobile suit's fire, all of the misses from his foe were only serving to further devastate an already ruined city. The First Bloody Valentine War had seen far more than its share of brutal fighting, but Athrun had never witnessed anything comparing to this level of absolute barbarism before. It was an utter sacking of the city, one that harkened back to almost ancient warfare, except now the invaders had mobile suits instead of axes and swords.

Golden flashes of light lit up the sky as both Wing Zero Albion and Vayeate Kai swept through the squadrons of Jet Windams with their fearsome main guns. While each blast from Heero and Dearka further reduced the Atlantic Federation's air power in this battle, the plummeting remains of the Jet Windams that weren't outright disintegrated still inflicted further damage on the city below. Matters were worse for the machines that were shot down by Mercurius Kai, the Skygrasper, Heavyarms Arsenal, the Impulse and GOUF Ignited; while each enemy machine they took down certainly helped, none of their weapons possessed the same raw destructive power as Heero's Twin Buster Rifle or Dearka's heavy Beam Cannon, which meant that the resulting debris from their kills was much more intact. The only good news as far as Athrun could tell was that, thanks to the efforts of his friends, the Atlantic Federation had lost their air superiority. The contest for control of the sky had swung in Terminal and ZAFT's favor, and the enemy could do nothing to halt their momentum.

The two enemy aces that could possibly have done something about that were likewise on the backfoot. Athrun saw Wufei absolutely pummeling the black and red machine of Jetstream Sam, driving him towards the outskirts of the city. While the Gundam pilot hadn't actually landed a damaging hit on the mercenary, Rodrigues was constantly on the defensive now, only able to block Wufei's relentless whirlwind of strikes. Athrun had never seen Wufei fight like this before; the L5 native from Heero's old world must've been truly furious at what his rival was aiding and abetting here. Meanwhile, Shemei was hounding the violet gun drone machine with vicious zeal, her blazing emerald beam sword and searing Heat Rod picking apart her foe's weaponry with brutal yet methodical efficiency. Athrun saw her whip entangle another gun drone and rip it to shreds, leaving just one of the violet machine's remote weapons left. Her beam sword hammered away with broad sweeps and swift thrusts, keeping her adversary on the back foot and even leaving a few scorch marks in the machine's Phase Shift Armor as the energy blade grazed it. At this rate, the enemy commander would be lucky to simply survive the day.

The Valkyrie wasn't the only former ZAFT pilot earning her keep; down in the city below, her subordinates were ripping into the Atlantic Federation's ground forces with cold fury. Together with Deathscythe Omega, Sandrock Saladin, and the ragtag group of Eurasian Federation mobile suits that had rallied to them over the course of the battle, they cleansed Berlin block by block of any hostile unit in range. The three Wraiths provided mutually supporting fire with the beam rifles built into their shields along with their hip-mounted railguns, while Duo and Quatre ripped into the enemy in brutal close-quarters combat. The God of Death was more than living up to his moniker today, with each swing of his verdant scythe sending another Atlantic Federation soldier off to the underworld. As for the Desert Prince, the kind and gentle Quatre… well, he had no kindness for his foes today. Sandro Saladin's wicked Heat Shotels flashed through the air in streaks of silver, slicing and dicing whatever unfortunate Atlantic Federation pilot got in his way. The enemy's brutality towards the people of Berlin was being repaid in kind.

Don't think like that, Athrun silently chided himself as he dodged a salvo of crimson beams from the giant unit's chest cannons, I know it's easy to go down that road, but we're not here for vengeance, no matter how good it might feel. We're here to save what lives we can, and we're going to do just that!

Athrun just hoped that there were still people left to save after what had been done to this city.

….

As Kira tanked fire from the remaining arm drone's weaponry on the Freedom's shield, La Flaga swooped in from above. With the drone completely focusing on the Freedom, it was wide open to attack from the Tallgeese Kai, and the Hawk of Endymion made the enemy pay for their single-mindedness. Striking like a bolt of lightning, the former Alliance ace plunged his beam saber into the top of the remote limb. Sparks flew as he pulled his energy blade out, and the drone exploded moments later.

"About damn time," La Flaga grumbled as he turned his attention to the machine that the drone had once been attached to, "Now, let's take out the big guy."

With both of its arm drones destroyed, the pilot of the mechanical titan finally seemed to recognize their peril. A flurry of missiles flew out in all directions, and as La Flaga raced to evade them and pick a few off with his beam rifle, he saw that the machine was shifting back to the form it'd been in at the start of the engagement, with the disk-shaped backpack now sitting atop the unit. Since the third positron reflector was mounted atop the disk, it made sense for the machine to shift back to this configuration; with the two arm drones and their respective reflectors now destroyed, this form offered the best coverage with its remaining reflector.

Emerald beams shot out from the array of guns that lined the disk, along with heavy blasts of plasma from the set of massive guns mounted topside. None of the shots hit the Freedom, Saviour or Tallgeese Kai, but the already-devastated city had further gouges inflicted upon it. Returning fire with his beam rifle, La Flaga scowled as he saw his shots get blocked by the positron reflector.

"This thing can't cover the whole damn machine by itself," said La Flaga as he broke off and deflected return fire from the enemy with his Planet Defensors.

"I think it's vulnerable below!" Kira called out, "The reflector's on top of the disk. If we get below the rim, we should be able to do damage!"

"That's a hell of a lot easier said than done," La Flaga replied as he frantically evaded a storm of emerald particle beams, "Too many damn guns to dodge!"

"Then I'll give them something else to shoot at," came a familiar male voice over the radio.

Checking his sensors, La Flaga saw Wing Zero Albion closing in. "Heero! Good timing! Blast this damn thing already!"

"Not that simple," Heero replied, "A full power shot from the Twin Buster Rifle might be enough to breach the shield, but it could also destroy far more than just the main target. Brute force isn't going to cut it here."

"Then go low-power!" Kira suggested as he blocked beams on his shield while shooting down missiles with the Freedom's formidable array of artillery, "Just enough to distract it while La Flaga and hit it beneath the rim!"

"That's the plan," Heero confirmed as he circled warily overhead, "Athrun's not going to be a problem, is he?"

La Flaga smiled as he popped off a few more shots at their foe just to distract the mechanical titan. "Actually, I think he's starting to come around! Kira can fill you in later."

Taking a quick look, he saw the Saviour circling around behind their target. Athrun might have lost his beam rifle to enemy fire, but that didn't mean he was out of the fight. Instead, he kept trying to close the distance so he could attack with his beam saber, and while he hadn't succeeded just yet, his efforts were forcing the enemy to devote a portion of the behemoth's arsenal to keeping him at bay.

"La Flaga's right," said Kira, "Heero, we can trust Athrun!"

Much to La Flaga's relief, Heero didn't argue. "Very well. Be ready. As soon as I take my shot, move in."

As Tallgeese Kai, Freedom and the Saviour continued to twist and turn through the insane barrage that their foe was putting out, La Flaga caught sight of a familiar golden-yellow glow forming at the barrels of Heero's rifle. Wing Zero Albion let fly a moment later with a river of energy, not a full-power blast but still nothing to sneeze at. The air over the target shimmered as the enemy utilized their sole remaining positron reflector, and Heero's shot splashed against the barrier. Sure enough, it had done no damage…

…but it had done a superb job of outlining just how far the barrier's reach extended.

A broad and flat disk of energy extending over the top of the machine and coming to a stop just a little way beyond the rim. Wild fire from the cannons lining the disk would've sent other pilots scrambling for cover, but not La Flaga, Athrun and Kira. The pilot of the Saviour hadn't been included in Heero's transmission, but he was still a sharp enough pilot to discern the intent of his friends and react accordingly, moving in at the same time as La Flaga and Kira. The Hawk of Endymion blocked the shots on the Tallgeese Kai's Planet Defensors, Athrun managed to avoid them altogether, while Kira tanked them on the Freedom's shields. A second later, all three mobile suits were beneath the disk. They thrust out with their beam sabers, La Flaga from the right, Kira from the left, and Athrun from behind…

…with all three violet blades plunging into the behemoth's torso.

….

If Nazara needed a sign that the battle was lost, the fall of the Destroy was as clear of one as any. Even with his focus primarily on defending himself from the Valkyrie's brutal assault, the Colonel hadn't been blind to the peril faced by his force's juggernaut. He'd tried to warn Rosa, convince her to pull back so others could support her, but she'd been completely unresponsive, instead redoubling her focus on throwing everything she had at the enemy even as they proceeded to systematically strip her of key weaponry before moving in for the kill. It was a risk the Colonel had been all too aware of; once she was let off the leash, as it were, regaining control over her was extremely difficult.

Now, it would be impossible. As the three mobile suits that had struck the coup de grace against the Destroy withdrew their beam sabers and pulled back, Nazara could only look on as gouts of flame, sparks and smoke billowed from the machine. Those quickly gave way to a massive explosion that consumed the machine and sent large chunks of it flying everywhere. Some simply fell to the pavement, while others became lodged in the blackened-husks of buildings. Under other circumstances, retrieval of as much debris as possible would be ordered, but the Atlantic Federation no longer had sufficient forces to support such an operation here.

Even if the Destroy had survived, though, Nazara would've had no choice but to order a retreat. Not only had his aerial and ground units been decimated by the intervention of the Gundams and ZAFT, but the mutiny within Force B had dramatically slashed his remaining assets in the field. To make matters worse, the first truly organized Eurasian Federation response to the assault was finally making itself known, with new squadrons of Dagger-Ls and Windams with IFF beacons broadcasting German tags moving in from east, south and north. Amongst the eastern reinforcements appeared to be the surviving mutineers of Force B, and while the Colonel would've liked nothing more than to slay them all here and now for their treachery, his own survival came first.

As he fended off slashes from his foe's beam sword, Nazara contacted his remaining forces. "To all surviving units, this is Colonel Nazara. Withdraw to the north immediately and link up with the Bonaparte. We're done here."

Deflecting another strike from the Valkyrie, Nazara then sent the Nosferatu's last drone straight at his foe. He turned his machine around and gunned his engines while the drone took shots at the enemy. It would last no more than a few seconds or so at the most, but that was all the Colonel needed.

A mixed bag, he thought as he surveyed the burning city, I was hoping that between us and Mihaly, we'd be able to take down Wing Zero with this operation. The Destroy lost, the first run of Grognards devastated, heavy casualties in our air units, and a full-blown mutiny in Force B… not exactly a resounding success. Still, with the carnage we've inflicted upon Berlin today, I daresay that the Eurasians have gotten our message. Combine this with the other thrusts of Operation: Suzerainty, and fear of our wrath should be spreading across the continent. Today's losses were merely a speedbump on the road to subjugating Europe…

…and we'll be back on track soon enough.

….

Although he was focused on taking down Jetstream Sam, Wufei wasn't blind to the larger battle. He could see the remaining Atlantic Federation forces beginning their withdrawal, and that meant his adversary was undoubtedly eyeing the exit as well. Wufei redoubled his assault on the mercenary, unleashing a whirling storm of strikes with his double-ended beam trident.

"Don't even think about retreating," Wufei growled at his opponent, "You don't get to run away after so many innocent people died here today!"

A rueful chuckle was his foe's response. "If there were justice in this world, Wufei, you would certainly be right. Unfortunately, we don't live in a just world."

Before Wufei could reply, his foe suddenly broke off and dived towards the surface. Wufei wasted no time in pursuing, and while the Ronin was fast, Altron Custom was faster. Wufei let fly with both his Dragon Fangs, and while the mercenary was able to dodge the right one, the left hit his machine square in the back. Only the Ronin's Phase Shift Armor saved it from destruction, and the blow momentarily threw Rodrigues off course. Still, his descent continued, and the blackened husk of Berlin was swiftly growing larger with each passing second.

"What's this, a game of chicken?" Wufei asked, "I'll hound you into the pits of Hell if that's what it takes, Rodrigues!"

"Oh, I don't doubt that a bit," Rodrigues replied.

The mercenary's trajectory was taking both him and Wufei towards the city's main financial district, a sector that had already been thoroughly ravaged by the Atlantic Federation's assault. Burned-out shells of what had once been office buildings were getting closer to the two descending mobile suits at an alarming rate, but Wufei refused to relent in his chase. Perhaps those who had ordered this rampage wouldn't suffer consequences today, but the mercenary who had gone along with it would if the Gundam pilot had anything to say about it.

Unfortunately for Wufei, thanks to all of the banter he'd shared with Rodrigues in their duels since the Gundam pilot had arrived in the Cosmic Era, this particular Wind of Destruction knew just how committed the warrior was to justice, and he was using that to his advantage here. As the two mobile suits found themselves amongst the blackened and charred towers of the financial district, Rodrigues suddenly whirled around and swung his beam katana. Wufei instinctively brought his beam trident up into a basic guard stance, but he realized too late that the strike wasn't meant for him.

The burning violet edge of the katana cut through one of the buildings like a hot knife through butter. Wufei found himself buffeted by falling chunks of concrete and steel as Rodrigues took off. Letting fly with his Dragon Fangs, Wufei attempted to halt the mercenary's retreat, but his weapons were blocked by the debris that was raining down around him.

"Son of a bitch!" Wufei snarled as he was forced to whirl his beam trident around him to carve up the debris that posed the greatest threat to him, "Rodrigues, you damn coward! You won't get away next time!"

"Perhaps, or perhaps not," Rodrigues shot back, his voice laden with a strange bitter casualness, "Until the next battle, Wufei."

….

We've driven the enemy from the field, thought Heero as he surveyed Berlin, but it's kind of hard to call this a victory. Terminal was founded in no small part to prevent atrocities like this. That we could only act to interrupt the assault on the city after heavy civilian casualties were already inflicted is a damning indictment of our capabilities. And this was just one city; if the communications chaos we observed on our flight in was any indication, the Atlantic Federation is marching on all of Europe now. Berlin was just the beginning.

Under other circumstances, Heero might've moved to pursue the retreating Atlantic Federation forces, but as satisfying as it might be to hound the surviving perpetrators of the carnage that had unfolded here, he remained mindful of the bigger picture. Terminal needed to get a better handle on the broader strategic situation and figure out just what they were really dealing with. They needed to regroup, compile what they'd learned here with whatever the Archangel and Dominion had been able to decipher with their own efforts to monitor communications since this fiasco had begun, and plan their next move.

"To all Terminal pilots," Heero ordered, "We're withdrawing. We've done all we can here."

"Mind if we tag along, buddy?" asked Duo, "I think we've worn out our welcome with ZAFT."

"Who all does 'we' entail?" Heero inquired.

"Duo, Trowa and myself," Quatre chimed in, "Sorry to disappoint, but not Wufei. Pretty sure he's sticking with ZAFT for now."

Heero shook his head. "It's okay. I figured that'd be the case. It'll be good to have you three back, though we'll have to split the group up between the two ships; we're getting a bit crowded."

"No worries," Quatre replied, "Mind if I go to the Dominion? There's someone aboard her I want to catch up with."

Duo whistled over the radio. "Quatre, you sly devil! Going to reunite with a certain spicy lady friend? Oh wait, you're already with her here, aren't you? Nothing like fighting back-to-back with your girlfriend in the middle of a burning city, right?"

"Duo…" Quatre groaned, though Heero mentally noted that he wasn't denying the accusation.

"That's fine," said Heero, "Trowa, you go with him. Duo, you'll take up residence on board the Archangel. That should balance things out while giving both warships just a bit of internal room to spare."

"What about our friends from ZAFT?" asked Trowa.

Heero glanced at the GOUF, Impulse and Saviour. After the destruction of the Atlantic Federation's titan, Athrun had pulled back and regrouped with Heine and Rey. La Flaga's earlier words regarding Athrun were echoing in Heero's mind, and it was tempting to reach out to the Saviour's pilot, but his communications were almost certainly being monitored by ZAFT. If Athrun was coming around, he'd make a valuable intelligence asset inside the crew of the Minerva, and Heero wasn't about to compromise such a potential breakthrough. Of course, it meant that Athrun and Cagalli would remain apart for the time being, and Heero knew that they needed to reunite and hash things out as soon as possible.

Ultimately, the ball's in Athrun's court, Heero thought, I can only hope that he knows what he's doing.

He then turned his attention to the strike force. "Valkyrie Team, status report."

"We're all okay," Shemei replied, though her tone was somewhat bitter, "Can't say I'm happy about letting Azrael's clone slip away, though."

"His time will come," Heero vowed, "By your hand or mine, one way or the other, we'll bring him to account."

"We'd better," Adaline chimed in, "If he's not brought down in this war, he'll just find a way to start a new one."

"Besides, the world's already suffered enough at the hands of the original Azrael," Priscilla added, "It doesn't need another."

"Especially one that can actually pilot a mobile suit," said Lan, "The clone might be more dangerous than the original."

"At least he'll be the last one," said Dearka, "Heero, you accounted for all the others back at Lodonia, right?"

Heero nodded. "From the data we retrieved and the facilities we investigated, it looks like Nazara was the only 'successful' product of their twisted Phantom Commander project."

"Good," Yzak grumbled, "That one's bad enough. Look at what he did here today. Bastard!"

"No kidding," said La Flaga, "although… Heero, you said he was a modified clone, right? That's the reason why I got the same sensation from him that I did from Creuset and ZAFT's new clone of my father?"

"That's what I found in the files," Heero confirmed, "If nothing else, they built off of the work that was done at Mendel. Might have something to do with your little psychic connection."

Kira sighed. "Mendel… the labs there were destroyed long ago, yet the experiments from that colony still haunt the world."

"Some of them do, but not all of them," La Flaga reassured him, "You're not like the others, Kira. You came out just fine."

And for that, Heero mused as he looked out over the burning city, the world should be very grateful.

He was about to contact the Archangel, but a chime coming from his console told him that the warship had beaten him to the punch. Murrue's face appeared on Heero's screen a second later, and the concern in her eyes was impossible to miss.

"Heero, are you okay?" Murrue asked, "The reports we've been hearing since you left… it sounds like Berlin's a real nightmare."

Heero nodded. "We're fine, Murrue, although I can't really say the same for Berlin. We managed to drive off the Atlantic Federation's forces, but not before they inflicted incredible damage to the city. I don't know how bad the civilian casualties are, but… well, even with our intervention, the body count's going to be high."

Murrue sighed. "I was afraid of that. We've continued to monitor communications during our advance inland, and it sounds like Berlin was just the start. Another force is advancing on Vienna, and something big is happening in Moscow, although we're still struggling to piece everything together. There's major fighting in France, too, and more beyond. Eurasian Federation and Atlantic Federation units are clashing all over the continent, with the latter firmly on the offensive. You probably blunted some of their momentum with your intervention in Berlin, but this is much bigger than the old German capital."

Heero's eyes narrowed. "You and Natarle haven't had any problems on your end, have you?"

Murrue shook her head. "A few skirmishes with Atlantic Federation scouts, but we drove them off easily enough. That being said, there's been a new development over here… one with some very big implications, if it's to be believed."

"You've got my attention," said Heero, wary of where this could lead.

"We're in southeastern France at the moment," Murrue explained, "Apart from those scouts I mentioned, Atlantic Federation forces haven't made much headway here. Local Eurasian forces are doing what they can to fortify the region, although they're going to be up against some heavy firepower in the coming days. None of the domestic forces have taken any hostile action against us. In fact… one of the Eurasian Federation military commanders actually reached out. It was a brief transmission, and the signal was rather poor; we think the sender's in an area where the Atlantic Federation's trying to jam communications."

Heero leaned forward. "Who's this commander?"

"Brigadier General Mathieu Neuville," Murrue replied, "The French regional command's a mess right now; the Atlantic Federation is pressing hard, and they're struggling to coordinate a proper counterattack. General Neuville is doing what he can to rally local forces and establish resistance behind enemy lines. He's offering an alliance with Terminal."

Heero's eyes widened ever so slightly; a serious partnership with Eurasian Federation forces would be a huge win for Terminal, but they had to play this carefully. "How much authority does he speak with? Have his superiors given their support to his outreach?"

"We don't know at this point," Murrue confessed, "He wasn't able to reveal too much during the transmission; was probably concerned about the Atlantic Federation eavesdropping. However, given the fact that the Atlantic Federation is now openly invading Europe, I would imagine that whoever General Neuville's superiors are, they now have a rather strong incentive to ally with us. Believe it or not, though, all of that's actually not the big news. It's what General Neuville hinted at towards the end."

"And that would be?" asked Heero.

"He mentioned that there are others who are willing to join us in our fight," said Murrue, her eyes narrowing, "and some of them are in the belly of the beast, if you will."

There was only one conclusion Heero could draw from that. "Is he actually saying there's an internal resistance within the Atlantic Federation?"

"Not in as many words, or so clearly," Murrue conceded, "but the implication was definitely there, Heero."

Heero nodded. "We need to arrange an in-person meeting as quickly as possible. This could be the big break we've been looking for."

"Agreed," said Murrue, "Unfortunately, high-level meetings might have to wait a bit. The Atlantic Federation's new offensive is going to keep us busy for a while."

Heero concurred. "No argument there. We're leaving Berlin now, and we're bringing some friends; Duo, Trowa and Quatre are coming back."

Murrue smiled. "That's good to hear. I'll make sure both the Archangel and Dominion are ready to accommodate them. What about Wufei?"

"No such luck," Heero answered as his gaze lingered on the Altron Custom, which was hovering not too far from the Impulse and GOUF Ignited, "I think he'll be staying in ZAFT's camp for the time being."

Murrue sighed. "Well, I suppose getting three out of four ain't bad. I hope he comes around in time."

"Might be a while," Heero grimly admitted, "Wufei's by far the most stubborn of us."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "Even more so than you? That's quite the accomplishment."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Heero couldn't help but chuckle. "Compared to him, I'd say I'm quite flexible."

Murrue smiled again. "I suppose you are. Return as quickly as you can, Heero. We have work to do, and you need to rest and rearm."

"Copy that," Heero replied, already accelerating as the rest of Terminal's strike force and three of his fellow Gundam pilots fell into formation behind him, "I'm coming home."

….

"Home, sweet home," the voice of Rodrigues echoed in the hangar from behind Nazara, "although I wager it'll be much quieter than before, at least for a little while."

The unmasked Colonel scowled as he turned around to look at the mercenary. "Something you want to say, Jetstream Sam?"

The two of them had just returned to the Bonaparte, the last remnants of the original force that had launched directly from the massive land battleship. A few Jet Windams had touched down with them, but they were units that had been deployed from the transport planes in the subsequent waves rather than any that had come from the Bonaparte itself; all of those had been destroyed. None of the Grognards had made it out, either, with those few who had survived long enough to attempt an escape finding themselves intercepted by local Eurasian forces finally arriving on the scene. It was rotten luck to lose the entire first batch of the new assault mobile suits, but they'd served their purpose well enough.

Had they all been lost in the name of a triumphant victory, it'd be easier for Nazara to write them off when he spoke to Djibril later. Instead, they'd all been destroyed in what could at best be described a blunted punitive expedition. The Eurasians had been bloodied, but now the fires of war were burning across the continent, and the Grognard would be a valuable asset in the battles to come. The ones lost in Berlin would be sorely missed, and shipping over more quickly would not be easy.

The more keenly felt loss, of course, would be Rosa and the Destroy. Djibril would be livid when he learned about that, and Nazara was hardly looking forward to that conversation. That was why he wanted nothing more than to brush Rodrigues off right now; he already had one asshole he'd have to deal with, and he didn't need another one on his plate.

Rodrigues, of course, didn't give a shit about any of that. "It's rather funny when you think about that. For an operation that was really supposed to be nothing more than slaughtering civilians and taking out their pathetic defenders, our losses were quite heavy today. Wonder who that says more about; our intended victims, or our own supposedly 'elite' soldiers?"

"We crushed the opposition within Berlin to our war," Nazara growled through gritted teeth, even as he knew that said opposition would only rally with greater determination now that they had martyrs for their cause, "That was our mission, and we carried it out. Those who fell in doing so are acceptable losses."

Rodrigues chuckled. "Is that how you're going to justify it to your bosses? Wish I could see how that plays out! Bet it would be quite entertaining."

"I'm sure you'd enjoy it, but you're not being paid for that," the Colonel quipped, "You're being paid to fight and nothing more. Is that clear?"

Rodrigues folded his arms, and while he was smiling at Nazara, the Colonel couldn't help but feel like the gesture was less friendly and more that of a beast bearing its fangs. "Oh, it's quite clear, Colonel… or should I call you Azrael? Guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, don't worry; as long as you keep paying me, I'll kill whoever you want. Europeans, Eurasians, Asians, South Americans, even traitors from the Atlantic Federation. As long as the payment's good and the enemy can put up a fight, I'll cut them all down."

The mercenary walked forward, and the Colonel thought for a moment that he was about to throw a punch, but instead he simply moved past him and continued for the door. However, before he left the hangar, he threw out one parting shot.

"Just keep this one little thing in mind," Rodrigues casually called out before the door shut behind him, "I'd happily kill you for free."

Preview for next time!

Terminal's strike force returns to the battleships with three more Gundams in tow. While contact has been made with local Eurasian Federation forces and the potential for an alliance is now on the table, the Atlantic Federation's ongoing assault leaves little time for the delicate work of negotiation. Heero and his friends are only given a brief rest and chance to rearm before they must redeploy again to save another European city from utter devastation. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Twenty-Four: The Battle of Vienna.

'A cry for help in time of need, Await relief from Holy League.'

'60 days of siege, Outnumbered and weak.'

'Sent a message to the sky, Wounded soldiers left to die.'

'Will they hold the wall or will the city fall?'

Winged Hussars, by Sabaton.

Author's Notes: Well, the action's kicking into high gear now, and it's not going to let up anytime soon! Also, completely unrelated note, but by the time you read these words I'll have turned 32! Okay, technically a day late, but who's counting?

Quick shoutout and thanks to KentLinuxStadfelt, who not only designed the Grognard but also the Demolition Dagger that showed up in this chapter. Also, Kyle Eisen and James Earl Asplund are his OCs, although as some of you might have guessed, the latter is clearly an expy of the good old Earl of Pudding Lloyd Asplund from Code Geass! I promised a cameo for you, buddy, and here it is!

Also, word of thanks to Titanic X. Brigadier General Mathieu Neuville's first appearance actually isn't in this story, but in Titanic X's tie-in to it, Gundam Wing: The Phoenix Rising. If you haven't read it yet, go do so!

I know a few others have messaged me about OCs making cameos, and don't worry, their time will come. If any of you have a minor OC that you want to have make a brief appearance somewhere down the line, feel free to message me. No, I won't be making them a central character or giving them a nuclear-powered mobile suit or anything like that. They'll just be one of the background characters in a battle or two, nothing more. Consider it my way of paying back the readers who have been particularly enthusiastic about this story over the years. Besides, it's my birthday, and I'm feeling generous.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to celebrate the occasion with cake and weed. What, why are you looking at me like that? I live in Washington state, it's totally legal out here. Besides, if you worked auto claims in a call center job for nearly 8 years, you'd probably do it too! My coworkers and I had a good running joke back when we were all still working in the actual office; half the claim handlers are stoners, and the other half are simply in denial. Life's crazy, we all got to cope somehow.

Regarding the Q&A from last chapter, I decided to just keep my replies as PMs. For all those who asked questions, I hope the answers I gave were satisfactory. Thanks to all who participated, it's fun to do stuff like this every now and then.

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