Author's Notes: Hello there! Apologies for the delay, meant to have this one done sooner. Work still hasn't eased up, unfortunately, and I think I'm starting to crack. Might actually get my ass fired if things keep going at this rate, and that honestly might be a good thing. Eight years working an auto claims call center gig tends to drain you over time, that's for sure. Maybe it's time for a new career path. Guess I'll see how things shake out.

Anyway, enough about my work life, it's not what you kids are here for. Two songs for the chapter: 'Winged Hussars' by Sabaton and 'Battle For Farbanti' from Ace Combat Seven: Skies Unknown.

Enjoy!

Episode Twenty-Four: The Battle of Vienna

Should be coming up on the battleships any minute now, Heero thought as he checked his sensors, I don't know how much time we're going to have for rest and repairs, though. Things really seem to be kicking into high gear now. Berlin was just the opening salvo.

The flight back from the ravaged city had been proof enough of that. While the members of the strike force and their three new companions had been relatively quiet during the journey, Heero had been monitoring various radio transmissions throughout the trip, and he was sure that the others were doing the same. All manner of languages had come over his cockpit speakers; French, Flemish, German, Polish, Russian, and much more. Heero didn't have complete fluency over such a wide variety of languages, but he had enough of a working knowledge to get a general feel as to the sentiment and situation behind the words, and said sentiments were universally ones of horror and outrage. If the Atlantic Federation had hoped that the carnage visited upon Berlin would cow the rest of Europe into submission, Heero suspected that the Americans were about to be in for a very nasty surprise.

Speaking of surprises, Heero's eyes widened slightly as new contacts appeared on his sensors. Two were what he'd expected; the Archangel and Dominion. He also saw a few more familiar faces in the form of the Strike Rouge, two Murasames and the GuAIZ Werewolf flying combat air patrol over the two warships. However, there were other mobile suits around the two warships as well. These were Dagger-Ls, some on the ground and others in the air with the assistance of Jet Striker Packs, and their IFF beacons were broadcasting Eurasian Federation signals. There were no signs of combat between them and Terminal's forces, but Heero was still quite wary.

"Archangel, this is the Albion," said Heero as he opened up a channel, "Murrue, do you read me? Is everything okay over there?"

Murrue's face appeared on his screen, and to his relief she was smiling. "Heero, we read you loud and clear. Don't worry, we're all perfectly fine! The Eurasian units here are friendly. We rescued one of their officers earlier, and her support staff's just finished boarding. The Eurasian Federation mobile suits here are local patrols that wanted to pass on additional information regarding the wider situation in France. Anyway, the officer will be acting as a liaison between us and the Eurasian Federation forces for the time being."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "Liaison? Sounds like things really got interesting while we were gone."

Murrue nodded. "That's one way to put it. Actually, she's up here on the bridge right now. Might as well get you two acquainted. Major Gardinier, would you mind coming over here for a moment?"

There was some brief shuffling as Murrue moved to the side to make room, and woman in a Eurasian Federation officer's uniform joined her on Heero's screen. Her short black hair was neatly trimmed with the exception of her rather long bangs, her hazel eyes peering out behind said bangs gleamed with razor sharp focus, and her athletic figure stood ramrod straight at attention.

"Heero," said Murrue, "allow me to introduce Major Sibylle Gardinier. She's from Eurasian Special Operations French Regional Command, and Brigadier General Neuville has authorized her to speak on his behalf. Major Gardinier, meet Heero Yuy, Terminal's top pilot."

Sibylle nodded. "It's an honor, Monsieur Yuy. Special Operations has quite the file on you, and it's only grown over the course of this war. As dire as our current circumstances are, I am pleased to be making your acquaintance in this manner rather than a… well, let's just call it a less appealing one."

"Let me guess," Heero quipped, "If your government thought it could assassinate me, Special Operations would've gotten the job, right?"

Sibylle sighed. "A blunt one, aren't you? I expected as much. Officially, my government would deny such an accusation. Unofficially… had we gotten the assignment, I have no doubt that all we would've gotten for it is the corpses of whatever force we gave the mission to. Suffice to say that, with today's events, the Eurasian Federation is inclined to see you in a more favorable light."

"Lucky me," Heero deadpanned as he checked his approach trajectory, "We'll talk more when I land. Murrue, do I have clearance?"

"You do," Murrue confirmed, "We're opening the hangar doors now. Miriallia will give final instructions. Major Gardinier and I will meet you down in the hanger."

Heero nodded. "Copy that. See you soon."

Murrue and Sibylle's faces were replaced by that of Miriallia. "Heero, you and Kira are up first for landing. You'll take the portside hangar entrance. Freedom has starboard."

"Understood," Heero replied.

As he got closer to the white battleship, Heero studied the assorted Eurasian Federation units that were patrolling the area. Many were actually sporting signs of battle damage, and their pilots seemed to be rather on edge if their somewhat shaky flight patterns were any indicator. It was hard to blame them for that; Heero could only imagine what was going through their heads right now.

A supposed ally is invading their homeland, Heero mused, and their now desperate enough to consider working with a group that's been the enemy of the Earth Alliance since well before this war began. The presence of the Gundams probably isn't helping matters, especially considering the utter thrashing we gave the Eurasian Federation fleet at Cagliari. Securing an actual alliance here is going to be tricky.

Heero silently lamented Lacus Clyne's return to outer space. The young woman was a natural diplomat, and her charisma would definitely have come in handy here. Cagalli would likely have to fill those shoes instead, and while Heero had faith in Orb's Chief Representative, he knew that she was very much cut from a different cloth than Lacus. Glancing at the nearby Strike Rouge flying combat air patrol over the Archangel, he felt a pang of sympathy for its pilot. Cagalli already had enough on her shoulders, and the weight was only going to get heavier in the coming days.

Folding Wing Zero Albion's wings in as he entered the hangar, Heero carefully made his way over to the Gundam's designated berth. Glancing to the right, he saw Kira enter a second after him. The ship's mechanic crews were already springing into action, with fresh munitions being brought out of storage so rearmament could commence as rapidly as possible. At the far end of the hangar, Heero saw one of the doors open, and Murrue and Sibylle entered the hangar a second later. Despite the gravity of the situation, Heero smiled as he watched the woman he loved stroll forward.

She's under a lot of pressure right now, he thought as he powered down his mobile suit, and yet she still stands strong. The challenge that lies ahead might be one of the toughest we've ever faced, but she's not going to back down. Neither am I.

As the cockpit opened and Heero stepped out, he was greeted by the grizzled face of Murdoch. "Good to have you back, Heero! Looks like it was rough fighting out there. Must have been if even you took some damage."

"You can thank Mihaly for that," Heero replied as he looked up at the Gundam's ruined left machine cannon, "How quickly can you get that swapped out?"

Murdoch's brow furrowed as he followed Heero's gaze, and the Gundam pilot could practically hear the gears spinning inside the veteran mechanic's head. "Beam saber hit, so we're going to have fused and superheated components to deal with… we can remove the worst of the damaged parts easily enough, but getting new mountings set up for the replacement gun's going to be the tricky part. This might take a bit of time."

Heero nodded. "Do what you can. Given how rapidly the situation's deteriorating, we might have to launch again quickly. If you can't have a replacement gun operational before then, I'll settle for having that section sealed up until you have a chance to finish the work."

"You got it," said Murdoch before raising his voice as he turned to his subordinates, "Okay, boys and girls, you heard the man! Let's get to it!"

As the mechanics got to work, Heero descended the ladder and met Murrue on the hangar floor. He saw her glance at the Major and then back at him, her unspoken message clear; no public displays of affection in front of the outsider. It was a sentiment that Heero understood quite well.

Don't need her gossiping about our relationship to Eurasian Federation High Command, Heero thought, and if word leaked out from there, I have plenty of enemies who might try to use that knowledge. Better to play things safe.

Murrue nodded and smiled in greeting. "Welcome back, Heero. It's good to see you and the others still in one piece."

"Likewise," said Heero before turning to their guest and holding out his hand, "Major Gardinier."

"Monsieur Yuy," she responded as she shook his hand, "On behalf of my superiors, I'd like to express our gratitude for your actions today. We will not forget the risk that you and your comrades took for Berlin."

"I appreciate the sentiment," said Heero, "but it's not like we were able to completely save the city. The Atlantic Federation's assault force inflicted heavy damage both before and after we arrived on scene."

Sibylle sighed. "All too true. I imagine it will be quite some time before we're able to fully account for the dead and wounded. Even so, without the intervention of your forces, the city would almost certainly have been completely destroyed, and the resulting casualties significantly higher. Despite today's carnage, you still saved many lives."

"Yet many more remain at risk," Heero pointed out, "The Atlantic Federation's invasion is only just getting started, after all."

"Which means that we've got our work cut out for us," Murrue added, "and little time to waste."

Sibylle nodded. "We do, indeed. Captain Ramius, Monsieur Yuy, may we speak somewhere that's a little more private? I do not doubt the discretion of your crew, but a noisy hangar does not strike me as the best place to hold such a discussion."

"Of course," said Murrue, "We'll use the conference room. Please, follow me."

As they headed towards the hangar exit, Heero looked over his shoulder and saw the Skygrasper coming through the portside entrance while Deathscythe Omega came in via the starboard entryway. It was good to know that Duo was aboard the Archangel now, while Quatre and Trowa would be touching down on the Dominion shortly if they'd maintained their current approach pattern. Four out of the five Gundam pilots were now firmly back in Terminal's ranks, which would be a significant boost for the organization. As for the fifth, Heero could only hope that Wufei would be kept busy helping ZAFT in their fight against the Atlantic Federation forces for the time being.

Durandal could try to use the chaos unfolding across Europe to make a move against Terminal, Heero mused as the trio left the hangar, so it's a good idea for us to ingratiate ourselves with the Eurasian Federation as quickly as possible. We'll need all the backing we can get. A non-aggression pact alone would be a huge boost, and we can probably swing a good deal more than that given the circumstances.

"Will it just be the three of us?" asked Sibylle as the group entered the conference room, "No disrespect intended, but I had been led to believe that there were several other notable figures working with you, particularly the former Desert Tiger of ZAFT and the Wolf of the Far East."

Murrue nodded as she took a seat, with Heero settling in to her right. "I'm afraid that Andrew Waltfeld departed on a separate mission a few days ago. As for Eric Bristow, he's currently flying combat air patrol and operating out of the Dominion. I have full authority to speak for Terminal in my present capacity, Major. The same goes for Heero."

The Major looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before joining them at the table. "Very well, then. As for my own position, I have been authorized to enter into negotiations on behalf of Brigadier General Neuville. While I am here, my words are his."

"That's all well and good," said Heero, "but how much authority does the general have? Is he acting with local authority only, or can he act on behalf of the entire Eurasian Federation?"

"For the moment his voice, and by extension my own, is that of French Regional Command," Sibylle answered, "Efforts are underway to brief Eurasian Federation High Command and get approval for wider negotiating powers, although with the present situation and the various communications difficulties being experienced as a result… that may take some time, unfortunately."

"At least it's a place to start," Murrue replied, "I'm assuming the Brigadier General wants us to help him drive out the invading forces in this region?"

"While that would be ideal, that is actually not what I'm here to currently request," said Sibylle, "We would most certainly welcome your aid, but the Brigadier General is currently working to stabilize the front line. Northern France is engulfed in heavy fighting at the moment, and our forces initially charged with defending that area were caught off guard by the sudden hostilities, but we are in the process of rallying and solidifying a defensive position. The Paris metropolitan area is surrounded but still under our control, and we're gathering our southern forces for an eventual counteroffensive. Despite the severity of our local situation, there are other parts of the Eurasian Federation that remain in far more desperate need of your organization's aid."

Heero folded his arms. "Parts of the Eurasian Federation that you just told us you and the general can't speak for, I'm assuming."

"Only for the moment," Sibylle countered, "and given the sheer brutality the Americans have exhibited in their attack, I have no doubt that our forces throughout the continent will be more than willing to work with you. You've already won good will in the German region, which will serve you well if you accept this plea for help."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "You want our pilots to go back to Germany and defend another city?"

Sibylle shook her head. "Not Germany; Austria. Berlin was the target of the enemy's opening thrust, but another force is advancing on Vienna as we speak. As Berlin was hit first, southern Eurasian Federation forces were given time to organize an actual defensive line. Current field reports indicate that they have managed to stall the Americans, but we estimate they can only hold for a day or so at the most. Reinforcements are marshalling in Italy and the Balkans, but their mobilization has thus far been hampered by Atlantic Federation air attacks. Without help, Vienna will fall."

Heero closed his eyes for a moment as scenes of the devastation in Berlin played out in his head. "What's the current population estimate for Vienna?"

When he opened his eyes and met those of Sibylle, he saw the desperation in them. "As of the last census… almost four million in the greater metropolitan area. I can understand your reluctance to sortie again so deep into what was until recently for your organization considered to be enemy territory, but we are on the verge of catastrophe. The world saw the Three Ships Alliance fight to defend innocents across the Earth Sphere in the final campaigns of the First Bloody Valentine War, and while the Eurasian Federation was against you then, we wish to make up for that mistake. Save our people, and we will do everything in our power to help you bring this war to an end! Please… you're our only hope."

Heero turned to Murrue. "What's our move?"

Murrue took a deep breath before turning to Sibylle. "You said the defenders can hold for a day or so at the most. How certain are you of that?"

"They're determined, well-equipped and in good positions," Sibylle replied, "but your pilots saw firsthand the kind of firepower that the Atlantic Federation is bringing to this fight. Frontline reconnaissance units have confirmed sightings of at least one of the new giant assault mobile suits taking part in the southern push, and the Americans could always have more that we're unaware of. Were it not for these new walking platforms of chaos and destruction, our forces could hold out for possibly weeks, but even one of them is a threat the likes of which we don't have the armaments or expertise needed to deal with. We're still analyzing the reports from survivors in Berlin about these monstrosities, and I'm sure this behemoth posed a challenge for even your organization's pilots."

Heero nodded at Murrue. "She's not wrong. We took it out, but didn't go down easily. Against more conventional mass production units, these things are utterly devastating. If one of them is spearheading the Atlantic Federation's southern thrust, then it'll be a miracle if the defensive line can hold for more than a day, no matter how dug in they are."

Murrue's expression became one of solemn resolve. "I was afraid of that. Very well, then. Here's how this is going to work. I'll contact Natarle as soon as we're done here and we'll begin moving east. Major Gardinier, I want you to get the word out to your superiors that we're moving to aid Vienna. I'd rather avoid any unnecessary clashes with Eurasian forces."

Sibylle eagerly nodded. "Of course, Captain Ramius!"

"I'll get your staff dialed into our communications array," Murrue continued, "With our equipment, we should be able to cut through whatever jamming the Atlantic Federation tries to impose. Bear in mind that we won't be launching our pilots right away; I want them to have at least a small bit of rest before they fly into battle again. Heero, that means as soon as we wrap up here, you're getting some sleep. That's an order, understood?"

"Roger that," said Heero, "I know Murdoch and his crews need a bit of time to repair and rearm our mobile suits. Mine was the only one that took any substantial damage. It can still operate just fine; if need be, Murdoch can just seal the damaged section and handle major repairs at a later date."

Murrue shook her head. "No, I want your unit operating at full capacity for this battle. I'll contact Murdoch and see how quickly he can get this done. You and the other pilots are getting at least six hours of sleep before you're diving into the next fight. That should give the mechanics time to at least handle the worst of the damage."

Sibylle nodded. "A wise decision. Though I know my superiors would prefer you launch your mobile suits immediately, I understand your situation. Your pilots just completed one grueling battle, and the defense of Vienna will be no less intense. Our forces should be able to hold, but I must again stress that speed is of the essence here."

Murrue's eyes narrowed as she turned to the Major. "Believe me, I'm well aware of that."

Sibylle inclined her head. "Of course. If there is nothing further to attend to, I'd like to go to your bridge so that I might relay a status update to my superiors."

"Not just yet," said Heero as he folded his arms, "I have a question before you go."

The Major raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What might that be, Monsieur Yuy?"

"When Murrue contacted me after the Berlin battle, she said that Brigadier General Neuville had made a veiled reference to potential allies in an unlikely place that your faction was in contact with," said Heero, "I want to know the truth; was he referring to a potential dissident movement within the Atlantic Federation?"

Much to Heero's surprise, Sibylle's response came without hesitation. "He was. I know it might seem hard to believe given your experience with the Atlantic Federation in both this war and the last one, but there is a notable underground resistance faction gathering strength in North America. The Brigadier General was only very recently made aware of this via an old acquaintance of his within the ranks of the Atlantic Federation military. Admittedly, we don't know much as to the extent of their capabilities at the moment, but we have at least established covert diplomatic channels and lines of communications with them. One of the reasons that the Brigadier General dispatched me to make contact with the Archangel was so that I could serve as an intermediary for messages that these rebels wish to pass on to Terminal through the Eurasian Federation."

"How certain is the Brigadier General that this is genuine?" asked Murrue warily, "For all we know, this could be an elaborate ruse by the Atlantic Federation in an attempt to lure us into a trap."

"We barely survived their snare at Alaska in the last war," Heero growled, fixing Sibylle with a glare, "I'm sure you'll understand if we're reluctant to trust anyone from North America in light of that prior bit of treachery."

Sibylle cautiously nodded. "Yes, I can hardly blame you for having doubts as to the intentions of the Americans. I cannot speak with certainty on the matter myself, but General Neuville has vouched for this contact as being an old friend of his. They have promised intel regarding the Atlantic Federation's invasion force; with any luck, we'll start seeing it within the coming days."

"Then we'll wait and see just how good this intel is before deciding on any outreach on our part to this resistance," Murrue declared, "With all due respect to you and your superior officer, Major, I do not intend to simply take your word on a matter as important as this. If the Brigadier General's old friend and the resistance he claims to represent wants our trust, they'll have to earn it."

"If they provide consistent and accurate intel, we might play ball," said Heero, his eyes narrowing, "but if there's so much as a hint of something suspect… well, I already have plenty of targets on my list for this war. I can always add more."

Sibylle looked back and forth between Heero and Murrue. "Is… is that a message that you wish me to relay to the Brigadier General and his contact?"

Murrue firmly nodded. "It is. Again, neither of us mean any disrespect, and we do want to give this purported resistance a chance to prove that it's real and acting in good faith. Should they prove capable of doing so, then Terminal will be open to establishing more permanent lines of communication… and perhaps, eventually, an alliance. Pass this message along to them as well; they will have the chance to show the sincerity of their intentions, and we will judge the fruits of their efforts fairly. That being said, we're going to be damn careful about this."

"I'm sure they'll understand," Sibylle replied, "Was there anything further that either of you wished to discuss with me?"

Heero shook his head, and Murrue did the same before she rose. "No. However, I do wish to confer with Heero for a moment. Major, if you'll kindly await me out in the hall? This will not take long, I assure you."

Sibylle inclined her head before standing up and leaving the conference room. Heero stood up as well, and as the door shut behind the Eurasian Federation Major he turned to Murrue…

…just in time for her to pull him into a tight embrace.

Heero allowed himself a small smile as he readily returned it; he'd wondered which of them would make the first move once the Major was out of the way. He closed his eyes as the two of them simply held each other for a moment, taking comfort in the knowledge that both had survived the day's crisis.

"I'm so glad you're back," Murrue whispered in his ear, "God, the wait was agonizing! Just listening to radio chatter trying to figure out what was going on, only able to catch hints of the mess you were flying into… you have no idea how worried I was."

Heero lowered his head as she released him. "I'm sorry. With how chaotic the battle was, there was no chance for me to send a transmission providing a status update. I'd meant to contact you after the fighting was done, though you beat me to the punch there. I didn't mean to stress you out so badly."

She cupped his chin in her fingers, raising his gaze to meet hers before she leaned in for a soft and lingering kiss. "You don't need to apologize to me, Heero. You had a job to do. We both did. It doesn't mean I won't fear for your safety every time you sortie. This time was just worse than usual because we couldn't provide any real support… and it looks like Vienna will be no different."

Heero shook his head. "I don't believe that. You'll have the ship moving to the east as we rest, and even though we'll be launching our mobile suits well before the Archangel gets close to Vienna, we'll still be counting on you to give us a place to return to. Besides, the work you were doing back here communicating with the local Eurasian Federation forces and getting their liaison on board was important, perhaps even more so than our battle. Establishing an alliance with them will be a big step forward for us, and it starts here. I have no doubt that you'll continue that work tomorrow. Even if the Archangel and Dominion themselves don't make it to the battlefield, you still have a vital role to play. Don't forget that."

Murrue sighed. "I know. It's just frustrating, not being able to back you up with covering fire like we usually do. I don't like battle to begin with, but these long-range engagements where you're operating so far from us are amongst my least favorite kinds of fights."

"That makes two of us," Heero concurred, "Still, we do what we must."

Murrue nodded. "That we do. Now, what you must do is rest. I was serious about that order earlier, Heero."

Heero gave her a small smile as he reached out and took her hand. "I know you were. I'll get some sleep, just as long as you promise to do so as well. Neither of us will do Terminal any good if we wear ourselves out before the next operation."

Murrue squeezed his hand. "Don't worry. Give me about an hour, and I'll be joining you in our quarters. We won't have the luxury of a full eight hours of sleep, unfortunately, so we'll have to make do with what we can get for now. It might be that way for a while, depending on how things play out in the coming days."

"I think you're right," said Heero, "If Berlin was any indication, we've definitely got a rough patch ahead of us. The war was bad enough before, and now it's intensifying still further. The Atlantic Federation isn't pulling their punches here."

"No, they aren't," Murrue agreed, her gaze hardening with resolve, "which just means we'll have to fight that much harder to stop them. We were able to interrupt their assault on Berlin, and while you and the strike force saved many lives, plenty of others weren't so lucky. I refuse to let Vienna suffer that kind of devastation. This time, we will stop them in their tracks."

"Roger that," Heero replied with equal determination.

….

After landing on the Dominion, Quatre hadn't immediately gotten out of Sandrock Saladin. Although he was definitely tired and knew he needed to rest, he still wanted a chance to study the combat data from the fierce clash in Berlin. In particular, his focus was on the new black and gold assault mobile suits and the destructive behemoth fielded by the Atlantic Federation.

We should have expected the Atlantic Federation to begin fielding new model mobile suits as the war went on, Quatre mused, and this is pretty quick, all things considered. Nothing drives weapons development like global conflict. Even so, that giant machine… that had to have been in development long before the war broke out.

The new assault mobile suits were something that Quatre could understand; they filled a specific role on the battlefield, and they'd definitely proven themselves to be a cut above the mainline units fielded by the Atlantic Federation so far. Quatre had no doubt that production of them would pick up, which meant that Terminal's pilots needed to seize this opportunity to learn how best to counter them. As for the mechanical titan that had done the lion's share of damage to Berlin, though, Quatre had trouble grasping the mindset behind it. Its sheer size alone made it a resource sink, and when combined with all the advanced weaponry and defensive technology utilized in its design, Quatre was willing to bet that the unit probably cost more to build than a conventional warship. It was incredibly powerful, sure, but it would've been far more economical to just increase the production of the new black and gold assault mobile suits if the Atlantic Federation was looking for units to serve as heavy hitters in urban combat zones.

"It's a terror weapon," Quatre muttered under his breath, "A walking weapon of mass destruction… this thing was designed to destroy cities and butcher civilians, all the while sowing as much fear as possible. Damn it all."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed, his body suddenly feeling incredibly heavy. The Atlantic Federation had never hidden their willingness to commit atrocities; the attempted nuking of the PLANTs at the start of this war had been proof enough of that. Even so, it felt like a new line had been crossed with the deployment of these monstrous machines. Large swaths of Berlin had been turned into Hell on Earth, and it seemed as though the new nightmare was only just getting started.

It was a nightmare that Quatre knew he'd need all his strength to fight, which meant that he'd wasted enough time here; it was time to get some sleep. Powering down his Gundam, he grabbed his travel bag from beneath the pilot's seat and slung it over his shoulder before popping the hatch open. His eyes widened when he saw who was waiting for him on the maintenance catwalk.

Lan Zhao.

A flood of images raced through his mind from the last time they'd been together in person. The night of passion they'd shared before he left the Dominion for his extended mission aboard the Minerva, fighting alongside her against the Alliance before that, the time they'd spent together in Orb; it all hit him like a tidal wave. So, despite the gravity of the situation and his own weariness, Quatre couldn't help but smile as he closed the hatch of his Gundam behind him and stepped forward to greet the woman who had rocked his world in more ways than one.

"Hey," he said, already feeling himself blush like a nervous schoolboy, "Sorry it took me so long to get back here."

Lan grinned as she strode forward, and before Quatre knew it her face was mere centimeters away from his. "Seeing as you saved my life back in Berlin, I think I can let you off the hook for making me wait."

Without further delay, she put her hand behind Quatre's head and pulled him forward. Quatre didn't resist, and the two of them shared a fierce kiss. Her soft and moist lips, daring tongue; oh, how Quatre had missed all that and more. He took her in his arms, his grip on her tight with both longing and relief that she'd survived the Hell that had been today.

She clearly picked up on that, because when they parted for air, she brought her hand up to caress his left cheek. "Hey… you okay? I know today was rough… would've been even worse if you hadn't shown up when you did. I owe you one."

Quatre shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, Lan. I… I'm just glad you're okay."

She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him. "That makes two of us. The whole time you were gone… I was worried. Knowing you were surrounded by ZAFT soldiers who could try to attack you at any moment… I mean, I know you can handle yourself, but still… you have no idea how badly I just wanted to take off, storm the Minerva and get you out of there."

Quatre smiled as he continued to hold her. "Thanks… that means a lot to me. Things got a bit tense towards the end, but we were able to stay one step ahead of the hounds. Had it gotten to the point where we needed outside help with our escape… well, I have no doubt you would've come in guns blazing. Would've been quite the sight, I bet."

Lan smirked as they released each other. "I might fly a sneaky mobile suit, but I know how to put on one hell of a show when I want to."

Quatre chuckled as he remembered fighting alongside her during that club brawl back in Orb before the war had started. "Oh, I know you do."

Looking around the hangar, he saw the various mechanics swarming over the mobile suits, and there was a crew of them ready to attend to his Gundam as soon as Quatre gave them the okay. They looked almost impatient, and the Gundam pilot suspected he had missed something while studying the combat data from the most recent battle.

"Any idea what our next move is?" he asked.

"That's part of why I'm here, actually," Lan replied, "When you didn't come out of your Gundam right away, I figured you were preoccupied and didn't get the message. We're on the move, heading east. The Americans have another assault force moving towards Vienna. Pretty sure they want to give them the Berlin treatment."

Quatre winced; had he really been so caught up in his post-battle analysis that he'd missed something that important? "Damn it! Do they need us back in the air already?"

Lan shook her head. "Not yet. The pilots that were involved in the Berlin battle are being ordered to rest up. We've got about six hours, then they'll probably have us launch again after a quick briefing."

Quatre nodded. "I see. I… I never got my own quarters last time I was here, did I? I… I shared yours."

Lan smiled. "You did, and I was hoping you'd be up for the same arrangement."

Quatre immediately found himself blushing again. "I definitely would. I've… I've missed you."

Lan kissed him on the cheek, and Quatre was surprised at the tender look in her eyes. "Same here. This would normally be the part where I'd invite you for a roll in the hay to celebrate our reunion, but… well, seeing a city torched is kind of a mood killer. Still, I'd definitely appreciate the company. Just… just holding each other as we drift off to sleep… a bit of comfort before we have to fly back into the fray… I'd like that."

"So would I," Quatre replied softly.

With that, she led him out of the hangar. It only took them a few minutes to reach her quarters, and without ceremony Quatre simply dropped his bag on the floor as the door shut behind them. Then Lan took his hand, pulled him over to her bed, and within moments the two of them were lying together, arms around each other and the rest of the world forgotten. The war might still be raging outside, but in that room, for a precious bit of time, they could find a little measure of peace and warmth.

And that was all they wanted.

….

"About damn time they got back," Lunamaria muttered under her breath as she undid her harness and powered down the Gunner ZAKU Warrior, "What the hell happened out there?"

Although she hadn't been able to deploy with the strike team that had launched from the Minerva thanks to the limitations of her mobile suit, Lunamaria hadn't sat idle. Well, not completely. Per the Captain's orders, she had launched her mobile suit and taken up position atop the battleship in order to supplement the vessel's defenses while the bulk of its mobile suits were away. With Europe apparently descending into absolute chaos, the Minerva had made her way up the southeastern Spanish coast after departing from Gibraltar, and absolutely no enemy forces whatsoever had made a move to engage her. Sure, the Eurasian Federation's Mediterranean fleet had hardly been in a position to intercept given the heavy losses they'd taken at Cagliari, but Lunamaria had expected the ship to at least be harassed by coastal defenses and air patrols. However, the Minerva had gotten almost suicidally close to the shore without so much as a single shot being fired at her, and that had Lunamaria worried.

It's been way too quiet back here, she thought, I don't what that means, but it can't be anything good.

She hadn't been the only one to deploy her mobile suit atop the Minerva. With the Impulse now being assigned to Rey, that had left his ZAKU Phantom free for the taking. Lunamaria had actually been offered the machine by Captain Gladys, but she'd turned it down; she was comfortable with her ZAKU Warrior. Besides, the all-white paintjob of Rey's former machine just wasn't her style. Instead, the unit had gone to a reserve pilot that the Minerva had been assigned from Gibraltar, a young ZAFT Red by the name of Emilian Vasile. Lunamaria hadn't spoken to him much beyond simple greetings and periodic reports during their vigil, but he'd seemed like a nice enough guy in her eyes.

Lunamaria didn't really have much of a mind for her new comrade at the moment, though. The group of mobile suits that had returned to the Minerva from the clash in Berlin was conspicuously smaller than the group that had departed the battleship; three of the Gundams were missing. A pit formed in her stomach as Lunamaria considered the worst possible scenario, and she hoped that her fears were ill-founded. Things had become tense between ZAFT and the Gundam pilots in recent days, but Lunamaria hadn't forgotten just how many times they'd saved her and her friends ever since the surprise attack on Armory One. Even if the relationship between them and ZAFT was starting to sour, she still thought well of them and certainly didn't want them dead.

"I hope they're okay," she murmured as she popped the hatch, "Duo, you've already made my sister cry once. If you died on her, I'll bring you back to life just so I can kill you myself!"

Exiting her mobile suit, she quickly made her way across the hangar towards the Altron Custom. Wufei's Gundam had already settled into its berth, and the pilot was climbing down the ladder from the maintenance catwalk. By the time he reached the bottom, Lunamaria was already there.

"Hey," she greeted him with a friendly smile, "Glad you made it back!"

His eyes widened ever so slightly; she'd caught him off guard, something that Lunamaria wasn't accustomed to. "Oh… hey. Yeah, guess I did."

Alarm bells started ringing in Lunamaria's head; it didn't take a genius to figure out that something was off here. "What's the matter? Where are Duo, Trowa and Quatre? Are they okay?"

Wufei nodded. "They're fine. They just won't be coming back here."

Lunamaria raised an eyebrow. "Where else would they go?"

Wufei folded his arms. "Where do you think? Same place as Heero and Shinn."

Lunamaria blinked as she let that sink in. "Wait, you mean they're going to the Archangel? Why?"

Wufei shrugged. "It's where they feel they're needed now. They weren't going to stay aboard the Minerva forever, you know."

Lunamaria sighed. "Right, I get that. Still, why now?"

"Ask them the next time we cross their path," said Wufei as he headed towards the exit, with Lunamaria quickly falling in next to him, "I'm not in charge of them. They do what they want. We all do. It's a Gundam pilot thing."

"I've noticed," Lunamaria deadpanned.

Together, they made their way to the ship's mess hall. Lunamaria dished up a hearty meal, but Wufei's pickings were rather on the slim side. It was yet another indicator of something troubling the young man, but Lunamaria had yet to find a real clue as to what that might be.

As tricky to figure out as ever, she silently fumed, Mom always said the guys worth going after could be difficult to read, but I don't think someone like Wufei was who she had in mind…

"By the way," said Wufei, jolting the ZAFT Red out of her thoughts, "Shinn was out there. At Berlin, I mean."

Lunamaria's eyes widened. "He was? Is he okay? What was he doing there?"

"He's fine," Wufei replied, "Saw him withdraw with the rest of Heero's team after the fighting was over. He was helping them defend the city."

Lunamaria had to smile at that; he might have left ZAFT, but Shinn's determination to protect the defenseless clearly burned as brightly as ever. "Of course, he was. He might be a thick-headed idiot, but his heart's always been in the right place. What kind of mobile suit did Heero hook him up with?"

"None," Wufei answered, "He was flying a Skygrasper."

It took Lunamaria a moment to recall just what that was. "Wait… you mean one of those old fighter jets from the last war? The ones that were operating with the Archangel?"

"One and the same," Wufei confirmed, "It's impressive he was able to survive the battle while flying something like that. Seems he's actually picked up a bit of skill since the war began."

"Did he say anything to you guys?" asked Lunamaria.

Wufei rolled his eyes. "We didn't exactly have time to chat out there. I think Rey might have contacted him briefly, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was a bit too busy with Rodrigues to bother with that. Besides, he's not my responsibility. He's a ZAFT defector; he's your problem to deal with."

Lunamaria looked down as the harsh reality of Shinn's particular circumstances weighed upon her. "I know what the regulations are for situations like this, but… I don't want to fight him. Renegade or not, he's still a friend. Besides, he hasn't actually fought ZAFT yet. He was fighting the Atlantic Federation today, right?"

Wufei nodded. "He has. Do you think your superiors will see it that way, though? Militaries tend to be rather rigid when it comes to their troops going AWOL. In your eyes, and in mine, Shinn is not an enemy. I doubt ZAFT as a whole is as understanding, though. I imagine the only reason Rey didn't open fire on him was because the Atlantic Federation forces posed the greater threat."

Lunamaria shook her head. "It's not just that. Rey and Shinn are friends. I know Rey can come across as cold sometimes… well, a lot of times, really. Even so, he has a heart. I don't think he'd willingly attack Shinn."

Wufei's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that? From what little I saw today, he sought Shinn out specifically on that chaotic battlefield. Had circumstances been different, can you say with absolute certainty that he wouldn't have taken the shot?"

A chill went down Lunamaria's spine as she realized the truth; she couldn't. "I… I don't know. I don't really want to think about that right now."

Wufei gave her a surprisingly understanding look. "I can imagine. Things are grim enough as it is. The fires of war are spreading even faster now than they were before. A shadow hung over this world for quite some time, but now… well, it feels as though night truly has fallen. Who knows when we'll see the dawn… or who we'll be when the sun rises."

That last line caught Lunamaria off guard. "Who we'll be… Wufei… did something happen in Berlin? I mean, besides the whole 'Americans burning the city and killing civilians' thing."

She half expected him to brush her off, but after he took a bite from his meal, he nodded. "I met Rodrigues again. I knew he was a dog of war, but even so… I still expected him to have at least some semblance of honor, some standards. I suppose, from a certain point of view, he still does. He didn't directly attack civilians; he only engaged active combatants. Even so, for him to have even been present for that massacre and not lift so much as a finger to stop it… he might be a skilled warrior, but his skills are the only thing worthy of respect about him."

"Is that what this is about?" Lunamaria asked, "You thought your rival was a better man that he's proved himself to be? I mean, sorry that you got such a rude awakening, but the man's a mercenary fighting for the Atlantic Federation. I don't think he was ever much good or worthy of respect to begin with."

Wufei shook his head. "No… well, not quite. I'll admit that I'm disappointed, yes, but that's only part of it. Rodrigues is a mirror for me, in a way. If he's fallen so far… could the same fate be in store for me?"

Lunamaria reached across the table and took his hand. "No. Absolutely not. Wufei… look, even on your good days, you can sometimes still be a pain in the ass, but you are nothing like that mercenary shithead."

Wufei bitterly chuckled. "What makes you so certain of that? We're both dogs of war when you get right down to it."

"That's not true at all!" Lunamaria argued, "I mean, sure, you've got this weird thing about supposedly only feeling alive when you're in a fight, but I know that there's so much more to you than that. The fact that you're so disgusted with Rodrigues for going along with the atrocity in Berlin is proof of that. I don't think it's healthy that you enjoy fighting, but you at least try to keep innocent people out of it and protect them when they're threatened. You've got a heart, Wufei. Rodrigues doesn't."

Wufei looked at her for a long moment. "A heart, hm? I don't know if it's that simple, but… well, I suppose it's something. Leave it to a woman to follow that line of thinking."

Lunamaria bristled but stood firm. "Yeah? Well, this woman doesn't want you to get yourself killed out there just because you're distracted by dumb thoughts like these. You talk a good game, Wufei, but I know that you're after something bigger than just your next good fight. Maybe the battlefield's where you feel you belong right now, but I don't think it'll be that way forever. I want you to survive so that you can see just how much more there is to life than fighting, and that won't happen if you get all down in the dumps just because your rival has you doubting yourself. You need to live so someone can drag your ass out of your Gundam and show you what life really has to offer."

"And who's going to be the one to do that?" asked Wufei, eyeing her curiously, "You?"

"If you'll give me a chance, yes!" Lunamaria snapped, feeling a surge of heat rush to her face.

She expected a sarcastic retort, but what Wufei gave her instead was surprisingly sincere. "Perhaps I will… someday."

Lunamaria blinked a few times, unsure if she'd heard him right. "Wufei?"

He then looked down, and she realized that her hand was still holding his. "Are you going to let me finish my meal?"

Lunamaria took a deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and frustration, before releasing his hand. "Yeah… sure."

The remainder of the brief meal passed in silence. As they got up and left the mess hall, Wufei headed towards his room. Lunamaria followed him, partially because hers was close to his, but also because she was still worried about him.

As he opened the door to his room, he looked at Lunamaria. "Shouldn't you be getting some rest? You had a long watch earlier, didn't you?"

She nodded. "I will. I just… I want you to make me a promise first, okay?"

Part of her expected him to simply wave her away dismissively, but to her relief, he did no such thing. "And that would be?"

She tentatively reached out and took his hand again. "I know you said that you're not going anywhere, but I also know how much you Gundam pilots value your independence. I believe you when you say that you're staying, but things can always change. Just… before you make any drastic decisions like that… promise that you'll talk to me, please? I swear that I won't rat you out if you decide that you need to move on or anything like that. I… I just want to help you make sure that, whatever choice you make, it's the right one for you."

Wufei blinked a few times; he seemed genuinely confused. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?"

If she hadn't gotten to know him over the past few weeks, Lunamaria would've thought that he was pessimistically assuming some ulterior motive on her part. That wasn't the vibe she was getting here, though. He sincerely wanted to understand what was going through her mind, something that Lunamaria truthfully only had a very rough grasp on. She wasn't yet ready to just come out and say it to him… but she could at least give a hint or two.

So, she stepped forward, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek as she felt herself blush furiously, and then smiled. "Because I care about you… and I want to help you. It's that simple, Wufei."

He was quiet for several long seconds before finally responding. "I… I will. You have my word."

He held her gaze and hand for a moment before releasing both. A small nod was his farewell before he entered his quarters and closed the door behind him. For her part, Lunamaria simply leaned against a nearby wall and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"You don't make things easy, Wufei," she whispered to herself, still smiling, "but… I don't think I'd have it any other way."

….

Studying the preliminary reports from the pilots in her office, Talia rubbed her forehead as a fresh stress headache made itself known. Reaching into the drawer of her desk, she pulled out a small container and popped a tiny white pill. The medicine would thankfully only require a few minutes to take effect, and it would hopefully last long enough to see Talia through to an eventual rest period.

Then again, she thought grimly as her eyes scanned the information on the monitor, I doubt I'll be getting much rest anytime soon…

She certainly had good cause to lose sleep. Even the preliminary reports about what had gone down in Berlin were downright ghastly to read, and the fact that the Atlantic Federation was trying to enact such carnage upon a continental scale only further made it a bitter pill to swallow. Talia had been awaiting updated instructions from Gibraltar or the Defense Council, but none had come through. As a result, the Minerva had no clear direction now that the battle she'd been ordered to launch mobile suits for was over. If necessary, Talia was willing to act on her own initiative, but her available intelligence on the larger strategic situation was hopelessly inadequate. With seemingly much of Europe now becoming a battlefield, it would only take a single mistake to send the Minerva into a confrontation that she had no chance of surviving, let alone winning.

To make matters worse, her margin for error was now much less than it had been before. While Talia had made contingency plans for the event that the remaining Gundam pilots left the Minerva, she'd still hoped that such an eventuality would be further into the future. Granted, Wufei had returned to the warship, but the departure of Duo, Trowa and Quatre was a body blow to her available fighting strength. Under those circumstances, retreating to Gibraltar and requesting new mobile suits and pilots to make up the numbers would've been the prudent decision.

Yet it was a decision that Talia was reluctant to make. The chaotic radio traffic alone that her crew had been listening to ever since launching the mobile suits painted a dark picture. From what they'd been able to gather, and the reports from her pilots had indicated, the Americans seemed dead set on conquering their erstwhile allies and making examples of at least some of their major population centers. It was an utterly baffling tactical and strategic decision in Talia's eyes. Sure, the Eurasian Federation hadn't been an enthusiastic participant in the war; if they had been, then the Minerva would've faced much stiffer opposition in several of her previous engagements. Even so, that hardly seemed like sufficient justification for the Atlantic Federation to outright attack them. Yes, Europe had been shaken by growing discontent and dissent, but that was an internal matter that the Eurasian Federation theoretically had the required resources to deal with on their own. It certainly hadn't required outside intervention, let alone repression that was this bloody and ham-fisted.

"What on Earth are they thinking?" Talia muttered as she tried to make sense of it all, "If they keep this up, then it won't just be ZAFT and the Clyne Faction that they'll have to fight; the rest of the Earth Sphere will be at war with them."

Greater strategic considerations aside, the blunt truth was that innocent people were dying with each passing minute. They might not have been PLANT civilians, but it didn't matter in Talia's eyes. No one deserved to be on the receiving end of the utter barbarism that the Atlantic Federation was unleashing upon Europe now.

Talia didn't know if a single battleship with a depleted contingent of mobile suits could make a difference, but she wanted to try. To simply stand by while innocents were murdered, regardless of nationality, was unthinkable to her.

And so, the message she received from Arthur mere moments later proved to be most unpleasant. "Captain, this is the bridge. We've received a transmission from Gibraltar. With our mobile suits retrieved, we are to return to base immediately."

Talia was thankful that the message was strictly audio; it wouldn't do for her XO to see her clenching her fists and gritting her teeth in indignant fury. "Are they perhaps not aware of what's happening out there, Arthur? The Americans seem dead set on putting the entire continent to the sword!"

Arthur sighed. "I don't know what our superiors' assessment of the situation is, Captain. They did not see fit to divulge as much in the transmission. Their orders, I'm afraid, were quite specific… and leave no room for misinterpretation. We've been recalled, and we must head back right away."

Talia took a deep breath. "This order… did it come from Gibraltar Command specifically, or were they passing on word from the Defense Council?"

"Gibraltar Command specifically," Arthur answered, "though I fail to see why the distinction matters."

It matters because Durandal is still at Gibraltar, Talia thought, and any commands issued to us from Gibraltar are almost certainly from him rather than Command. Were it the Defense Council, I could perhaps exercise autonomy courtesy of my FAITH status, but with the Chairman himself… I suppose I could always try, but I doubt it would end well. This position comes with more of a leash than Durandal would lead us to believe. By design, I'm sure.

"I suppose it doesn't," Talia replied after a moment, "Very well, then. Set course for Gibraltar, and keep me apprised of any follow-up transmissions."

"Of course, Captain," said Arthur, "Bridge, out."

"Gilbert," Talia hissed under her breath once the audio feed cut, "just what are you planning now?"

….

November 19th, C.E. 73

Dawn was still a few hours away, but Terminal's pilots were not waiting for sunrise. Rushing across the hangar of the Archangel, Heero raced up the ladder to the maintenance catwalk. Looking over his Gundam before he entered it, Heero saw that Murdoch and his crew had outdone themselves; the wrecked machine cannon had already been completely replaced. Glancing to the right, he saw the chief mechanic himself, and the grizzled technician had a triumphant smirk on his face.

"Busted our humps on this one!" he called out as Heero moved to enter the cockpit, "She's raring to go, Heero!"

He nodded before sealing the hatch. "Thanks. Good work."

He wasted no time in powering up his machine. Word had reached the two battleships that the Atlantic Federation forces were intensifying their assault on the Eurasian units guarding the way to Vienna. With at least one of the Americans' new mechanical titans leading the charge, it was all the defenders could do to simply stall the enemy's advance. Major Gardinier had not minced words when she'd relayed the Eurasian Federation's latest report to Terminal; if the defenders were not relieved quickly, Vienna would burn before the day was done... or perhaps before it even properly began.

As Heero ran through a quick pre-flight system check, Murrue's face appeared on the monitor. "Heero, are you ready?"

"Just about," he confirmed, "Does Natarle have her suits in the air?"

"She will shortly," Murrue replied, "Once you're all airborne, operational command is yours. We'll follow behind you as quickly as we can."

"At least we'll have a few more Gundams with our strike force this time," said Heero.

Murrue smiled. "Hopefully, that will make the decisive difference. The Atlantic Federation's simply bullying the Eurasian forces with these monstrous new machines of theirs. Show them that raw power alone is no guarantee of victory."

Heero nodded as he wrapped up his systems check. "Roger that. I'm set to go."

"Then I'll let Miriallia take over," said Murrue, "Be careful out there, Heero."

"Same to you, Murrue," said Heero.

Her face was replaced by that of Miriallia a moment later. "Heero, move to the starboard launch lane. Kira will take the portside."

"Understood," Heero acknowledged.

It only took a few moments to get his Gundam into position, and Miriallia wasted no time in giving him clearance. "Wing Zero Albion, you are green for launch. Watch your back and kick ass, Heero!"

Heero nodded. "Will do. Wing Zero Albion, launching."

He felt a sense of déjà vu as his Gundam raced clear of the Archangel and rapidly ascended. Just yesterday, Terminal's pilots had scrambled to the aid of a European city, and now they were doing so again for another one. This time, though, they had a little more help. In addition to the mobile suits that had launched from both battleships the day before, three more Gundams were now among them.

Having them with us from the get-go will be a considerable boost to our firepower, Heero thought as the mobile suits formed up with him, I just hope it'll be enough.

The presence of Duo, Trowa and Quatre in the strike force wasn't the only difference between today and yesterday. Heero's gaze drifted towards the Skygrasper, this time sporting the Launcher Striker Pack rather than the Aile loadout. With the intent of the operation to intercept the Atlantic Federation's assault force before they made it inside Vienna itself, Heero had deemed it acceptable for Shinn to have a more powerful if less precise set of armaments today.

Sparring once last look at the Archangel and Dominion below, Heero then slammed the throttle forward. Just like yesterday, millions of innocent lives hung in the balance. Unlike yesterday, though, Heero intended to make sure that the Atlantic Federation didn't make it to their target. He also intended to have an ace up his sleeve.

His fingers danced across his console as he composed a brief message before sending it off to the one Gundam pilot that wasn't present in the strike force. Wufei might have thrown his lot in with ZAFT for the time being, but Heero was willing to bet that his unique sense of justice burned as brightly as ever.

The only question now was how far he would go to act upon it. One way or the other, Heero would find out soon enough.

….

Up on the bridge of the Minerva, Talia was listening to the latest status updates regarding the European strategic situation when Arthur barked out an interruption. "Captain, we've got a problem down in the hangar! Altron Custom has moved out of its berth!"

Talia's eyes widened in dismay. "What in the world is Wufei doing? Get him on the line at once!"

Wufei's face immediately appeared on the central bridge monitor, far too quickly for any of the crew to have contacted him; he was already one step ahead. "Captain, open the hangar door and allow me to launch immediately."

Talia folded her arms. "And just where do you intend to go, Wufei?"

"Vienna," the Gundam pilot replied, "It's the next target of the Atlantic Federation, and they're on the march as we speak. I won't let them burn another city to ashes!"

It was a sentiment that Talia was fully on-board with, but she had to conceal it due to her recent orders. "For what it's worth, I understand how you feel. Unfortunately, we've received explicit instructions to return to Gibraltar. I would very much like to know, though, how you found out what the Atlantic Federation's next target is when we haven't received such information ourselves."

There was just the slightest hint of hesitation before Wufei answered. "I was studying radio traffic during the flight back from Berlin. The Atlantic Federation had another large force moving south. It wasn't hard to plot out their trajectory and find a likely target."

Talia suspected that there was more to it than that, but she kept such thoughts to herself; Wufei was offering her at least a partial solution to her personal dilemma regarding the orders she'd received from ZAFT, and she was all for allowing him to play his part. "I see. I would normally be skeptical about how much of a difference a single mobile suit could make, but I've seen you in action enough by now to know otherwise. Once the battle is over, what are your intentions?"

"To return to the Minerva," Wufei answered, "I won't be dissolving our partnership anytime soon, Captain, so you can rest easy on that front."

"Captain, I must protest this!" Arthur interjected, "Our orders to return to Gibraltar are explicit!"

Talia nodded. "So they are. It's a good thing that Wufei isn't part of our chain of command, then, wouldn't you agree?"

Arthur's eyes widened for a moment as the realization of what Talia had in mind hit him. "Oh, I… yes, I suppose it is. Forgive my interruption, Captain."

Talia shook her head before turning back to Wufei. "No apologies necessary, Arthur. Very well, Wufei. Provided we have your word that you'll return when the battle is over, we'll allow you to launch."

"You have it," said Wufei.

Talia turned to her crew. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get the hangar open ASAP!"

"Thank you, Captain," said Wufei before disappearing from the monitor.

Arthur gave her a worried look. "Captain, with all due respect, are you sure about this? Wufei might not officially be part of ZAFT, but even so… I don't think Gibraltar Command will approve."

Talia gave him a reassuring smile. "Let me worry about them, Arthur. This matter is beyond their authority in any case."

Arthur looked nervous, but he ultimately relented. "Very well, Captain."

You're the one who elevated me to FAITH's ranks, Gilbert, Talia thought with no small measure of satisfaction, so you can't complain when I exercise the authority you gave me.

….

Dashing to her ZAKU, Lunamaria leapt into the cockpit and immediately powered up the machine. Wufei had just launched, and she couldn't pursue him in the machine currently assigned to her, but that wasn't her intent.

He should still be within communications range, she thought desperately as she raced to establish a channel with him, I hope he is…

Much to her relief, Wufei's face appeared on her monitor a moment later. "Lunamaria? What is it?"

She glared at him. "I could ask you the same thing! What happened to your promise, Wufei? You told me you'd talk to me before doing anything like this!"

Wufei's eyes widened for a moment before he shook his head. "Is that what you think this is? I'm not leaving the Minerva for good, Lunamaria. I'm only going off to fight in a single battle, and then I'll be back. It's no different than yesterday's battle at Berlin."

Lunamaria blinked a few times, her face suddenly flushed with red as realization and embarrassment settled in. "Wait… you mean… oh."

Wufei actually looked somewhat amused at the sudden shift. "What's the matter? Afraid I was going to run off without saying goodbye? You women are such emotional creatures."

She gritted her teeth. "And you're an asshole, you know that?"

"So you've said," Wufei casually replied, "More than once by now."

Lunamaria let out a deep sigh, equal parts frustration and relief, before smiling. "Yeah, and I'll keep saying it. Still, asshole or not, I'm glad you're not just cutting and running on us. Go show those Atlantic Federation bastards what a real warrior can do, Wufei."

He returned her smile, and it actually appeared genuine. "I will, and I will come back. You have my word on that."

"And I'll be holding you to it," Lunamaria firmly answered, "Don't forget that."

Wufei shook his head. "I won't."

There was a brief moment where it looked like he had something more to say, but then he cut the connection. Lunamaria sighed as she leaned back in her chair.

"You'd better come back, Wufei," she muttered, "or I'll drag you back here myself."

….

One ruined city wasn't enough for them, thought Eurasian Federation Lieutenant Commander Paul Hartman as his mobile suit shook from a rocket detonating against the ground just to the right of his position, I knew the Atlantic Federation was bloodthirsty, but this is beyond the pale.

Twenty-eight years old, the German Natural was no stranger to war's brutality, but even he was sickened by the cruel new stage that the conflict had entered. The fair skin of his face was blemished by a long scar than ran across it; a nasty souvenir he'd gotten from a close call during the First Bloody Valentine War. His chocolate brown eyes had a world-weary look to them, and though his black hair still had its youthful sheen Paul could've sworn he'd caught a glimpse of at least a few early gray hairs. His flight suit did little to hide his rugged build, one that had been hard earned over the years.

He supposed it was always going to come to this in the end. The Earth Alliance had become the de facto anti-Coordinator faction in no small part thanks to the rabid and virulent racism of the Atlantic Federation, but during the last war such sentiments hadn't been entirely out of place in Europe either. Paul had never really bought into that, and it had gotten him into trouble in the past. Brawls with some particularly fanatical members of the Chistaya Partiya Krovi faction that had come to prominence in the Eurasian Federation during the First Bloody Valentine War had won him a few stints in military prison, but his piloting skills had been too valuable to allow him to languish behind bars. He'd been pleased to see the zealots tossed out of power and relegated to fringe status once the war was over, but Paul had been well aware that anti-Coordinator sentiment still ran hot in the Atlantic Federation. He hadn't been surprised in the least when the Americans had kicked off the Second Bloody Valentine War with an attempted nuclear strike on the PLANTs, nor had he been shocked when they'd dragged the rest of the Earth Alliance into their new crusade. Luckily for Paul, his superiors had wisely kept him away from operations that involved cooperating with the Atlantic Federation forces out of fear of potential conflict, and he'd spent most of the war up until this point helping the Eurasian Federation Research and Development division fine tune one of their latest mobile suits.

Good thing the Hyperion Nova has some neat tricks up its sleeves, he thought as he drew a bead on a trio of approaching Jet Windams, because I'd be dead otherwise.

An evolution of the CAT1-X Hyperion line, the CAT2-X5 Hyperion Nova was an attempt to make a more cost effective and efficient version of the Eurasian Federation's powerful but expensive and energy-guzzling prototype. Primarily black with navy blue trim, the frame had been covered in Laminated Armor with an anti-beam coating due to the increasing prevalence of beam weapons, although the cost savings that came with using it rather than bulkier plating were an added bonus. Improving mobility had been a key concern with the design team, and the unit not only had enhanced thrusters compared to the original design but also additional maneuvering jets mounted on the legs and arms to coax every last bit of agility out of the frame that was possible.

Although it was faster than its predecessor, the Hyperion Nova didn't skimp on its arsenal. Two multi-barreled CIWS were mounted in the head, while unit's heavier ranged armaments consisted of the RFW-101 Beam Machine Gun, which was stored on the left back side when not in use and utilized replaceable battery packs so as not to drain power from the mobile suit itself, and the back-mounted RXW-117 Beam Launcher. The latter was essentially a refined and more cost-effective version of the two Forfanterie Beam Cannons that had been mounted on the backpack binders of the original Hyperion design. Now a single weapon rather than a pair of cannons, range and penetrating power had been key design requirements, essentially turning the Hyperion Nova into a deadly sniper unit when properly utilized. Like the RFW-101 Beam Machine Gun, the RXW-117 Beam Launcher also utilized replacement battery packs in order to preserve the energy of the Hyperion Nova itself, and the weapon would be stored on the right side of the unit's back when not in use. Covering the Hyperion Nova's close-quarters-combat needs were a pair of RBW Type 7002 Variable Beam Sabers. Just like the suit's ranged weapons, these were also powered by their own independent batteries, but that wasn't what made they truly special. Unlike the energy blades wielded by most contemporary mobile suits, these weapons actually had two distinct settings. The first was the conventional beam saber, but the second reduced the length of the blade by more than half, turning them into something more akin to energy daggers. This allowed for greater flexibility in melee combat, and when combined with the Hyperion Nova's new emphasis on mobility made the unit a force to be reckoned with up close.

Formidable armaments were all well and good, but the Hyperion line's real selling point had always been its defensive capabilities, and the Hyperion Nova was no exception. In this case, the barrier system that protected the mobile suit was known as the Neo Armure Lumiere Mono-phase Lightwave Shield. Unlike the originally Hyperion line, the Hyperion Nova only had two emitters, with one on each arm. The intent of such a setup was to focus the defensive power of the barrier entirely at the front of the mobile suit, allowing for extremely tough protection head-on in exchange for complete exposure at the flanks and rear. Live-fire tests had demonstrated that the generated shield could tank shots from battleship-grade beam cannons, though not without cost; each hit would drain massive amounts of energy from the unit, and it would only take a few such blows to overload the emitters altogether. Even when they weren't forced to deal with such extreme levels of firepower, the shields remained quite energy-intensive despite the emitters being markedly improved over their predecessors, meaning that Paul knew better than to rely on them exclusively for protection. Instead, he used them only when he knew that the mobile suit's armor and mobility wouldn't be enough to save him from whatever was coming his way. The increased proliferation of weapons with anti-beam properties was another threat that he needed to watch out for and couldn't rely on the shield to protect himself from.

The shield had gotten more than its fair share of use over the past dozen or so hours, as had the rest of the Hyperion Nova's bells and whistles. While the Atlantic Federation's attack on Berlin had ultimately been blunted, other offensives were underway. One of those had been a southern thrust aimed at Vienna, and it was on that front Paul had been deployed to. While Berlin had been the first target of the Americans and hadn't been given the luxury of preparing an actual defense, Vienna was a bit more fortunate. As the Atlantic Federation's forces had landed in north-central Europe, territories and cities further south had at least a chance to man fortifications and rally troops to stem the tide, or at least keep it at bay for a time. When it had become clear that Vienna was targeted for the same scorching that Berlin had received, every available active duty and reservist troop had immediately been ordered to deploy. Defense in depth was the plan, and so a series of lines had been hastily drawn up along the enemy's expected path of advance. Those lines had been expected to hold for weeks, possibly months, while the Eurasian Federation organized for a proper counteroffensive.

Oh, how wrong those expectations had been. Against a conventional force, perhaps they would've been reasonable, but the Americans had deployed yet another monstrous mechanical titan of the same classification as the one that had laid waste to so much of Berlin, and what had been envisioned as a grinding attritional battle quickly became a route. The first line had been practically bulldozed over in the span of less than an hour, with the scattered survivors frantically pulling back and rallying at the next one. With at least some idea now as to what they were up against, they were able to put up a much more spirited defense and make the enemy pay for their advance, but eventually they were forced to abandon that position as well. Thus had begun a disheartening pattern; stand and fight until the behemoth unleashed its devastating firepower and blasted a gaping hole in the current defensive line, rapidly fall back to the next series of defensive positions, and go through the vicious cycle again. Each time, they were able to hold out longer than before, thanks in no small part to learning the hard way about what the abomination at the heart of the Atlantic Federation's offensive was capable of, but ultimately the defenders were still driven back.

It wasn't Paul's preferred method of warfare, and it certainly didn't suit the Hyperion Nova. He believed in taking the fight to the enemy, and his machine had been designed with that in mind, energy barrier system notwithstanding. Yes, it could wage a potent defensive effort, and Paul had been doing just that ever since the collapse of the first line, but he could feel himself being gradually worn down. He'd only gotten a couple hours of sleep over the course of the prolonged battle, and with dawn's light now illuminating the warzone he found himself in, he had to wonder if this might be the last sunrise he'd ever see.

Don't think like that, he silently told himself, That's your ticket to an early grave right there…

He wasn't ready to meet the Reaper just yet, but Paul had no problem with sending his attackers down to pay the devil his due. A pull of the trigger unleashed an emerald bolt from the Beam Launcher, with the shot nailing the lead Jet Windam of the trio that had been setting up for a strafing run on his position. Hitting his thrusters immediately after confirming his target was down, Paul moved his machine to take cover behind the burned-out carcass of a tank. It was a prudent decision, because the two surviving Jet Windams had let fly with a volley of rockets from the launchers mounted beneath their winds, and the ordinance reduced Paul's previous position to a bunch of craters and rubble.

With the enemy closing in, Paul put the Beam Launcher away and readied the Beam Machine Gun instead. Opening up with a hail of green bolts, he swept the weapon left to right, shredding the remaining two Jet Windams before they could scatter. He was about to check his sensors for new targets when his console chimed, and a familiar female face appeared in the bottom left corner of his screen.

"Paul, 4th Anti-Air Company could use some support," Sasha Raukoff urgently suggested, "Quickly, I might add. They're getting swarmed!"

Twenty-seven years old, with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, sky blue eyes that could either melt hearts or freeze them at the drop of a hat, ruby red lips and a beauty mark beneath her left eye, Eurasian Federation Lieutenant Sasha Raukoff could've passed for a runway model. Although it wasn't readily apparent since only her face was clearly visible, Paul knew that off-camera was a rather buxom body in an Earth Alliance uniform, one that wouldn't have looked out of place gracing the cover of a Parisian fashion magazine. Yet using her looks to get ahead in life wasn't Sasha's style. She preferred her brain, and in Paul's eyes it was even more impressive than her appearance. Trained in communications and specializing in coordinating between mobile suit pilots and their superiors, Sasha had been assigned to the Hyperion Nova development and testing team to serve essentially as Paul's minder. She kept him up to date on rapidly unfolding events on the battlefield and out of trouble when he wasn't in the cockpit. Informally, she also served as something of a therapist, one tasked specifically to monitor Paul's mental health and make sure he was in shape to fly at a moment's notice. Paul had never really thought of himself as someone who needed a shrink, but he had to admit that it was nice to have Sasha in that role for him. She was a very friendly and open person, someone that Paul found easy to talk to, whether it was confiding in her regarding his doubts about the war or just killing some time with idle chit-chat between training exercises. He'd worried that actually overseeing combat operations might be a bit too much for her, but she'd so far taken her responsibilities in stride.

Checking his sensors, he saw that she wasn't wrong about his allies needing support. The 4th Anti-Air Company had taken a beating over the course of the engagement, but they still had multiple self-propelled surface-to-air missile launchers, autoloading anti-air cannons and flak batteries in operation. Those weapons were unloading everything they had against the Atlantic Federation Jet Windams that were trying to soften up the defenders with strafing runs, but there were simply too many targets for them to contend with. Missiles and shells flew forth as quickly as the overworked crews could load them, and despite the ascendancy of the mobile suit over the conventional weapons systems of the past they were still forcing the Windams to deal with them as a serious threat.

Unfortunately, they'd drawn enough attention that they were now in the middle of what would surely be their last stand if they didn't get support. Rockets and particle beams hammered their position, trashing batteries and launchers despite the furious return fire they were dishing out. The 4th Anti-Air Company was making the Atlantic Federation pay for every unit they destroyed, blasting Windams out of the sky with their missiles and blowing limbs off the mobile suits with cannon fire. Even the flak batteries, not the most effective of weapons against mobile suits, were still reaping their toll by damaging beam rifles, rocket pods, and thrusters with their lethal shrapnel. As one launcher after another was blown apart, though, Paul knew that the remainder wouldn't survive much longer without his help.

"Acknowledged," he said, already putting away his Beam Machine Gun and readying the Beam Launcher, "I'll do what I can to take the heat off of them."

"Watch your back," Sasha warned, "You've been a thorn in the Americans' side since the fight began; they'll almost certainly target you if they think you're distracted."

"I can take care of myself," Paul replied as he drew a bead on one of the Windams and blew it out of the sky before it could unleash the rest of its rockets on the defenders below.

Sasha nodded. "I know, and I'll be holding you to that. Be careful."

She vanished from the screen a moment later as Paul was adjusting his aim. Acquiring his next target, he nailed a second Jet Windam dead-center in the torso. The Atlantic Federation mobile suit burst like overripe fruit, but Paul had no time to celebrate the kill. Several Jet Windams had broken off from their assault on the 4th Anti-Air Company's position and were closing in on him quickly. Putting the Beam Launcher away, Paul rushed forward while drawing his beam sabers. The one in the right hand sprang forth to full length, while the one in his left he activated in its shorter setting.

"Try picking on someone your own size," Paul growled before gunning his thrusters.

The Hyperion Nova leapt into the air, closing the distance between it and the Windams before the Atlantic Federation pilots could react. Paul's first strike was a thrust with his right beam saber through the lead Jet Windam's cockpit, instantly killing the pilot and sending the smoking remains of the machine plummeting towards the ground. He then spun his mobile suit to the left and stabbed forward with his second blade, catching another Windam in the head before finishing it off with his right saber. The remaining Windams scattered, hastily putting enough distance between them and the Hyperion Nova so that they could draw their own beam sabers before reengaging.

For all the good that it did them. Paul wasn't about to let them swarm him. He chased after the closest Windam, and while his foe managed to ignite their violet blade and block the saber in his machine's right hand, he easily slipped the smaller weapon his unit's left hand past the enemy's defenses and stabbed into the mobile suit's torso. Whirling around as his first target exploded, he was just in time to block a strike from a charging Jet Windam with his short sword before cutting the attacker down with a counterstrike from his normal saber. A third Windam came at him from the left, forcing Paul to dive in order to avoid their lunging thrust. As the unit passed over him, he raised his right saber and sliced the machine in half. Missiles and cannon slugs from the 4th Anti-Air Company's surviving units suddenly filled the sky around him, blowing apart the few Jet Windams that had survived his onslaught. Finally afforded a bit of breathing room, Paul took a moment to survey the broader battlefield.

The big picture wasn't exactly encouraging. The 4th Anti-Air Company was just one of many units holding the final defensive line, and they were just as bruised and battered as their comrades. A motley combination of Dagger-Ls, tanks, artillery, mechanized and light infantry, self-propelled and fixed anti-air units, and a few scattered squads of Windams equipped with the twin recoilless cannons of the Doppelhorn Striker Pack were dug in all along the northern approach to Vienna. Covering them from above was a wild assortment of air units, including various jet fighters and strike craft wielded by reservists, attack helicopters, and squadrons of Dagger-Ls and Windams equipped with Jet Striker Packs. Almost all were sporting various signs of battle damage, and while the Hyperion Nova wasn't among them, it had its own problems; the batteries for Paul's various weapons were starting to run low on juice, and the ones powering the mobile suit itself were hardly better off.

As if on cue, Sasha contacted him to advise what he'd already been thinking. "Good work, Paul. You should pull back; we need to at least swap out your weapon batteries, maybe partially recharge your suit itself if we've got time for it."

Paul was about to respond in the affirmative when the last thing he wanted to see appeared on the horizon. There, its dark grey hull gleaming in the rays of the rising sun, was the giant assault mobile suit that had made the Atlantic Federation's offensive so damn effective. Paul wasn't sure why it hadn't led the assault on the final defensive line, and could only assume that it had perhaps been pulled back to replenish its energy reserves and munitions. He'd hoped that it would stay off the field for a while longer, but it looked like the defenders' luck had just run out.

Not that their luck had been looking good in any case. Even without the Atlantic Federation's monster, the situation was still desperate. Squadrons of Jet Windams had been hammering the defensive line with air strikes almost non-stop, while others equipped with the Doppelhorn Striker Pack were pumping out shells as if they were cheaper than candy. A handful of the new Grognard units that had been spotted in the Berlin battle were also present, and while they made up only a small portion of the enemy force, they were still proving devastatingly effective whenever they got close enough to put their formidable arsenal to good use. Rounding out the assault force were formations of self-propelled artillery pieces ranging from traditional cannons to trucks hauling racks of rockets behind them. The fire coming from the enemy line was intense, and it showed no signs of letting up.

Behind the massive assault unit, Paul could see a bulky silhouette. He'd seen it before from a distance; one of the Atlantic Federation's new Hannibal-class land battleships. The lumbering behemoth was moving into position so that it could bombard the defenders alongside its two-legged abomination of a companion, and Paul knew that his comrades wouldn't survive the onslaught. Not without help, at least.

"Negative," he said as he moved out front, "The line's going to collapse at this rate. I'm staying."

"Damn it, Paul, don't try to be a hero!" Sasha snapped, a hint of panic creeping into her voice, "You can't take that monster or the battleship, and you know it! Pull back now!"

Before he could reply, he saw pinpricks of crimson light in the barrels of the large cannons mounted atop the disk-like upper hull of the mechanical monster. Knowing he only had seconds to act, he thrust the Hyperion Nova's arms forward and activated the Lightwave Shields. Paul had no idea if they had the strength to tank what was coming, but he did know that if he didn't try, the ensuing attack would blast clean through the defensive line and cut a swath of destruction through the city behind it. Evacuation efforts had been underway well before the fighting had reached this point, but a metropolitan area of over four million people couldn't be cleared out quickly. There were still countless civilians sheltering in place, and this final line was the only thing standing between them and wholesale slaughter.

"Sorry, Sasha," he said with a bitter smile, "but I can't do that."

He wanted to say more, but any words he had caught in his throat as the mechanical monstrosity opened fire. Pouring every last ounce of juice the Hyperion Nova had into the shields, Paul gritted his teeth and brace for impact. It came a split second later, and it felt as though an entire cruise ship had been thrown at his mobile suit. Paul was knocked back in his seat, and his display was overwhelmed with light. There was a thunderous crash and series of jarring impacts, and were it not for his helmet Paul would've at the very least been rendered unconscious. As it was, his vision went dark, but he still had the rest of his senses, which meant that he wasn't dead.

His head was buzzing as his vision slowly returned to him, and he was dimly aware of both alarms and Sasha's panicked voice coming over the cockpit speakers. When he was able to see clearly, the first thing that confronted him was the Hyperion Nova's damage monitor. Practically the entire outline of the mobile suit was bloodred, indicating catastrophic damage. Only the torso was spared, and it was still flashing orange. Nevertheless, Paul was still alive, though the Hyperion Nova was probably toast.

Smoke and sparks filled the cockpit, and were it not for his helmet Paul would've choked on the fumes. Fumbling for the emergency hatch release in his still somewhat dazed state, he popped open the cockpit and was momentarily blinded by the glare of the morning sun despite his helmet's visor. Climbing out of the mobile suit, he surveyed both the machine and his surroundings. Amazingly, the Hyperion Nova was more intact than the damage display had otherwise indicated. Naturally, the torso had held, otherwise Paul would be dead, but so had the legs, although they were missing chunks of armor and sparks were gushing from their trashed joints. The mobile suit's head was a scorched mess, but the arms had gotten the worst of it. The Lightwave Shields had protected Paul and the Hyperion Nova from complete destruction, but the emitters had overloaded due to the strain of deflecting the powerful shot he'd been hit with, and the arms had been reduced to charred stumps. As the machine had landed hard on its back and its ranged weapons were stored there, both the Beam Launcher and Beam Machine Gun were critically damaged. The machine's beam sabers were nowhere to be found, and Paul could only assume that they'd been blown clean out of the mobile suit's hands or outright destroyed.

Talk about a mess, Paul mused as he studied his wrecked mobile suit, but it's not an unsalvageable one. It'll be out of action for a while, though.

Of course, that assumed he would live long enough for the machine to be repaired, and that was in doubt. Paul himself had only suffered minor wounds, chiefly some bruising from where his body had hit parts of the cockpit during the crash along with a serious headache; the helmet had protected him from far worse, but as he ran a hand over it, he found more than a few cracks in the shell. Of much more immediate concern wasn't any injury he'd sustained, but the titan that had inflicted them in the first place. The great mechanical beast had shifted into its mobile suit form, and while that thankfully meant the giant cannons on its disklike backpack were no longer aimed at him or Vienna, but now its arms had detached and were starting to move out in front of the machine. From the clashes at the previous defensive lines, Paul knew full well just what those remote limbs were capable of, and even from this distance he could see the beam cannons mounted in their fingers taking aim at both him and others nearby. He wearily collapsed atop his trashed machine, knowing full-well there was no way he could get clear on foot before the cannons opened fire. His gaze tilted skywards. He would've preferred his last sight to be Sasha's face, but Paul could settle for the pretty morning sky.

That was when, whether by chance or fate, he caught sight of a pinprick of azure light high overhead.

Over the mechanical titan that had devastated his machine, to be precise.

Start "Winged Hussars"

Before Paul realized just what he was seeing, a river of golden-yellow hellfire ripped forth from that little point of blue light. Like the judgement of a vengeful deity, it came down upon the colossus that had shot Paul out of the sky and had slain so many Eurasian Federation soldiers over the past twelve hours, and the Atlantic Federation's prized titan was suddenly consumed by a massive blast of energy. The blinding light forced Paul to avert his gaze even as his mind belatedly processed what had just transpired and what it meant both for him and the battle as a whole. A tremendous roar echoed across the battlefield as the giant machine was obliterated by the full power of a weapon capable of reducing entire space colonies to ashes, and despite his distance from the point of impact Paul still felt the intense heat of the ensuing explosion, with the shockwave almost knocking him right back into his crippled mobile suit's cockpit.

As the light faded and Paul was able to look upon his savior, an uncharacteristically broad smile appeared on his face. Help and hope had finally come for Vienna…

…and the Atlantic Federation's forces were now the targets of the deadliest pilot in the world.

….

Talk about no margin for error, Heero thought as he sighted in on the Hannibal-class land battleship while the Twin Buster Rifle recharged, Had that thing gotten any closer to the city, I couldn't have risked a full-power shot. The Atlantic Federation's force advanced quicker than we'd anticipated. Time to cut their legs out from under them.

Having originally swept in from the west, Heero had altered his final approach so that he could come at the Atlantic Federation's army from behind and at a higher altitude than his friends. The move had worked well; the enemy had been so focused on the target in front of them that their security to the rear was nonexistent. It was a sloppy way to advance, and Heero intended to make the Atlantic Federation pay for that mistake in blood.

The charging indicator on the monitor for the Twin Buster Rifle went green, and Heero let fly with another blast. It wasn't a full-power shot this time; he'd only done so against his first target to make sure that he could overpower the unit's positron reflectors should the enemy angle them against him in time. The Hannibal-class land battleship Attila was well-armored, but it didn't have the unique defenses of the Atlantic Federation's monstrous titans. A shot of the strength that Heero typically used on warships in outer space was more than sufficient to punch through the bulky craft's topside, puncture the main power generator, and turn the Attila into a short-lived second sun seemingly born upon the surface of the Earth.

Target lock indicators began ringing in his cockpit even before the glare from the explosion that had consumed the Attila faded; the enemy had finally recovered from their shock at his surprise entrance and were diverting their aerial units to challenge him. A streak of crimson light charging in from the west met them, and the Gundam Epyon Revenant immediately got to work. Her beam sword already ignited and Heat Rod unfurled, Shemei wasted no time in carving into her foes, slicing two Jet Windams in half with a broad swing from her emerald energy blade before shredding three more with her searing whip.

It's just going to be the two of us for a bit here, Heero thought as he ignited his beam saber, and I suspect we're about to become quite popular.

As the two fastest mobile suits in Terminal's arsenal, Gundams Wing Zero Albion and Epyon Revenant had gotten out ahead of the strike team. Taking full advantage of their speed, Heero and Shemei had come up with a simple plan; the two of them would get on scene first and throw the enemy's attack force into confusion, allowing the others to make a devastating second strike while the Atlantic Federation soldiers were throwing everything they had at the two Gundams. It was a typically bold and reckless plan for the likes of them, and Heero wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I'll bombard their surface units," Heero announced as he shredded one Jet Windam with his machine cannons before blowing apart another with his railguns, "Mind dancing with their aerial units?"

"I'm always down for a tango," Shemei replied as she impaled another Jet Windam on her beam sword, "Rain hell down upon them, Heero. I've got your back!"

"Appreciated," Heero acknowledged as he cut a Jet Windam in half with his beam saber before taking aim at a squad of the new black and gold mobile suits that they'd first seen the day before at Berlin, "Let's get to work."

He let fly with a blast from the Twin Buster Rifle, and the ensuing torrent of energy obliterated a trio of the assault mobile suits while sending the rest diving for cover. Panicked bursts of autocannon rounds from the survivors filled the sky around him as Heero descended upon them like the Angel of Death that he was. Two salvos from his railguns struck down a pair of the black and gold machines, while a follow-up burst from his machine cannons shredded a third. Swooping in, he impaled one more with his beam saber before gunning his engines and taking his machine into a steep climb. Twisting his Gundam around, he immediately sighted in with his deadly rifle on a squad of Doppelhorn Windams that were focused on bombarding the Eurasian defenders, and a blast of golden-yellow hellfire proved more than sufficient to deal with them.

They held out well, Heero mused as he assessed the state of Vienna's final defensive line, but they're in bad shape. If we hadn't shown up when we did, the enemy would already be in the city. As it is, they're far too close for comfort.

He caught sight of the crashed unit that had deflected the blast from the colossus's heavy cannons earlier. Heero had seen the whole thing play out from a distance as he'd rushed to get his Gundam into a good firing position, and he was amazed that as much of the mobile suit that had blocked the shot remained in one piece as what he could see now. The cockpit hatch was open, and while there was no sign of the pilot, based on the condition of the mobile suit's torso Heero was pretty sure that whoever had pulled off that crazy stunt was still alive. He hoped their machine was salvageable; any unit with shields that could block shots from one of the Atlantic Federations new mechanical titans would be a very valuable asset.

Heero could only hope that the machine's pilot had found cover, because he wasn't through pounding the Atlantic Federation's surface units by a long shot. Taking aim at a cluster of rocket trucks that had set up position behind the front-line mobile suit teams, he unleashed the power of the Twin Buster Rifle and reduced both the artillery and their entire position to a smoking crater. Dodging and weaving through a frantic storm of particle beams, missiles and shells, he popped off potshots with his railguns while he looked for another good target for his rifle, destroying mobile suits and self-propelled artillery pieces with what probably looked like casual ease to an outside observer. Heero kept his beam saber at the ready, but he only had to strike down a handful of units; most who tried to get close had to contend with his escort, and the Valkyrie wasn't pulling her punches.

Like a servant of the devil come to collect a steep butcher's bill, Shemei was utterly mauling the Atlantic Federation's Jet Windams with ruthless efficiency and ferocity. The frantic particle beams fired her way didn't come anywhere close to hitting their target; the Gundam Epyon Revenant was barely more than a crimson blur. There was a near-constant rain of superheated debris falling to the ground in her wake as she sliced up mobile suits with her beam sword while ripping apart others with her Heat Rod, leaving Heero able to pound the enemy's ground positions with almost complete impunity.

That won't last for too much longer, he silently told himself as he opened up with the Twin Buster Rifle again, this time pulverizing a group of Doppelhorn Windams along with the small hill they'd been standing on, I thought the Berlin assault was intense, but they've got just as much firepower here. Perhaps more so; we still don't know what reinforcements they have waiting in the wings.

As if on cue, a host of new pings appeared on his sensors. His eyes narrowing as he studied the display, Heero saw that they were all coming in from the north at high altitude, and their profiles showed that they were the same class of heavy transport jets as those that had air dropped reinforcements during the battle at Berlin. Sure enough, the display soon lit up with streams of smaller contacts billowing out from the aircraft; new squadrons of Jet Windams were taking the field.

Shifting his focus, Heero reached out to Shemei as he sighted in on his next batch of targets. "Company's here early. Let's thin them out."

"Copy that," Shemei replied, already taking the Epyon Revenant into a climb to meet the new arrivals.

As a prelude to her interception, Heero opened up with the Twin Buster Rifle. The river of energy ripped through the descending Jet Windams, destroying a dozen of the mobile suits before slamming into one of the transport planes and turning it into a fireball. Then the Valkyrie was amongst them, beam sword and Heat Rod shredding machines left and right with vicious zeal.

Parrying the saber strike from a Windam that had attempted to attack him from the flank, Heero stabbed the offending unit through the cockpit before whirling around and perforating two more mobile suits with his machine cannons. Snapping off a pair of railgun slugs that punctured another Jet Windam and sent it spiraling into the ground, Heero quickly gained altitude and took aim at another cluster of descending mobile suits. A shot from the Twin Buster Rifle destroyed six of the machines before blowing apart the aircraft that had dropped them, but there were still plenty of Jet Windams left, and they had spread out considerably since leaving their assigned transports. It would be much more difficult to manage them going forward, and there was still the main assault force to contend with as well. For all their skill and the power of their machines, Heero and Shemei were only two pilots; there was only so much of the battlefield that they could cover together.

If the rest of Terminal's strike group didn't arrive soon, then Vienna was going to be in trouble.

End "Winged Hussars"

….

No Azrael clone this time, Shemei observed as she sliced a Jet Windam in half with her beam sword before ripping two more apart with her Heat Rod, I wonder where that rat bastard's hiding…

The fact that Phantom Pain's leader had slipped away during yesterday's battle left a bad taste in her mouth, one that Shemei had been hoping to cleanse today. That Colonel Nazara apparently wasn't taking part in the assault on Vienna was certainly disappointing, although Shemei supposed that was selfish on her part. Without the Colonel and his formidable mobile suit in the mix, the Atlantic Federation's army here would be much more manageable, though the Valkyrie knew that she and Heero still had their work cut out for them.

"No sign of that Desperado merc, either," she muttered under her breath as she cut down another Jet Windam with her beam sword, "A major offensive, yet two of their top aces are missing. What the hell are they up to?"

It was a puzzle that she'd have to figure out another time. Her first priority was to protect Vienna, and she was frankly struggling to do that. It wasn't due to the skill of the enemy or the power of their machines; these were Atlantic Federation grunts, and while the Jet Windam was definitely an improvement over many machines that had been fielded in the last war, it was no Gundam. She was striking them down left and right, but the overall tactical situation was still rather grim. The Atlantic Federation forces that weren't engaged with her and Heero directly were spreading out to work around them, and the defenders of Vienna were once again facing a fierce bombardment. Without the presence of the Atlantic Federation's new walking war crime machine or the land battleship that had supported it, the Eurasian Federation soldiers could at least hold out longer, but they were already severely battered after the prolonged fighting retreat they'd endured over the past day.

Not that the Eurasians were about to go down without a fight, of course. Vienna's defenders had rallied, with the arrival of Heero and Shemei clearly giving them a morale boost. Bruised and weary they might have been, perhaps on the brink of collapse, but they were throwing everything they had at the Atlantic Federation forces. Particle beams, rockets, missiles and shells flew forth from hastily fortified positions as quickly as they could be fired, making the attackers pay for every meter of ground gained in blood. Shemei could appreciate the zeal of the defenders, but she was concerned about their reserves. For all she knew, they could be running low on munitions; with the speed at which the Atlantic Federation's offensive had unfolded, the Eurasian supply lines had to be struggling to keep up with the needs of the defenders.

A brilliant flash of yellow temporarily illuminated the battlefield as Heero let fly with another blast from the Twin Buster Rifle. The shot was aimed at the surface forces, and the beam smashed into a charging formation of Dagger-Ls and Windams. Seven machines were destroyed by the shot, yet overall, it hardly seemed to slow down the Atlantic Federation's advance. Follow-up shots could have more of an impact, but Heero was in the same boat as Shemei, fighting to fend off the reinforcements that had been airdropped into the combat zone. Despite Shemei's best efforts to give him freedom to operate by keeping as many of the enemy's air units away from him as possible, there were simply too many for even the Epyon Revenant to hold off on its own. Heero's beam saber was getting just as much of a workout as Shemei's melee weapons now, along with his machine cannons and railguns.

Epyon Revenant's just not a defensive-oriented machine, she thought as she ripped apart two Jet Windams with her Heat Rod before impaling a third on her beam sword, It's meant to take the fight to the enemy. We did that during our arrival on this battlefield, but now we're really in the same role as the city's defenders; just trying to stem the tide. This isn't what my Gundam was designed for, and if I have to keep fighting like this then I won't be able to make a real difference!

As she shredded two more Atlantic Federation machines with her Heat Rod, her sensors chimed, indicating the arrival of a new contact on the battlefield. Shemei was curious; the rest of Terminal's strike team would be arriving as a group, with the Wraiths entering in stealth, but no one would be entering the fray unaccompanied. Reorienting herself in the direction of this new contact's arrival while slicing a Jet Windam in half with her beam sword, she saw two Atlantic Federation mobile suits struck down a pair of mechanical serpents, which were already retracting back to their source.

"Well, now," Shemei muttered with a smirk, "this is interesting. Welcome to the party…"

"…Chang Wufei."

….

You played your cards well, Heero, thought Wufei as he fell upon the western flank of the Atlantic Federation army, I'll consent to being used this time for your purpose, if only because ZAFT has refused to act.

Wufei understood why the Minerva had been recalled to Gibraltar; with the sudden departure of Duo, Trowa and Quatre, she had taken a serious hit to her striking power. He could respect Captain Gladys's position, and the fact that she'd been willing to let him launch rather than wait for him to force his exit spoke to her desire to continue the fight against the Atlantic Federation's invasion of Europe despite orders to the contrary by her superiors. However, it was the broader abdication of responsibility by ZAFT's forces in the region that rankled him. On the one hand, wanted to stand back and watch two member nations of the Earth Alliance beat each other senseless certainly made strategic sense. That being said, ZAFT also had an opportunity to take advantage of the Earth Alliance's rupture by siding with the Eurasians against their backstabbing and murderous allies. ZAFT could have dispatched additional forces from Gibraltar to aid the Eurasians in beating back the Atlantic Federation's efforts in France, or from Diocuia in the east in an effort to relieve Vienna. The intervention in Berlin the day before, even if it had just been by a single squadron of mobile suits, had made Wufei cautiously hopeful that ZAFT was going to do the right thing and act against the utter barbarism that was unfolding across the continent.

Unfortunately, that had not been the case. It had not been ZAFT who'd sent aid to Vienna, but Terminal. The organizations two most powerful Gundams had already arrived, and Wufei had no doubt that the others would be making their presence known shortly. The urgency of the situation meant that he had to set aside his disappointment in the faction he'd allied with for the time being, but this was a matter Wufei absolutely planned to bring up with Durandal upon his return to Gibraltar.

That was for later, of course. For now, his priority was protecting Vienna, and Wufei wasted no time in getting to work. Descending upon an artillery formation, he cut loose with the flamethrowers mounted inside the Altron Custom's Dragon Fangs. The rivers of orange and crimson fire reduced cannons to molten slag and detonated their ammunition, resulting in a lethally spectacular pyrotechnic display. Wufei didn't so much as pause to admire his handiwork; he was already moving on to his next target.

Double-ended beam trident whirling before him, he threw himself headlong into a formation of Doppelhorn Windams and the Dagger-Ls escorting them. The latter frantically activated their beam sabers while the former took shots at him, but Altron Custom was far too quick for them. Wufei ripped through the escorts like a buzzsaw, sending chunks of superheated metal flying everywhere. One of them actually lasted long enough to make a strike of its own, but Wufei swatted the beam saber aside with contemptuous ease before impaling the Dagger-L through the cockpit. Then it was onto the Doppelhorn Windams, and he led with his Dragon Fangs. The twin mechanical serpents drove two of the machines into the ground, crushing their cockpits in the process. His Gundam was buffeted by a few slugs from the remaining Doppelhorn Windams, but the physical rounds stood no chance of penetrating Gundanium alloy. Shrugging off the hits, Wufei barreled into them like a linebacker, shoulder-charging one to the ground before finishing it off with a sweep from his beam trident. A Dragon Fang demolished another one of the attackers, and a wide swing from the beam trident cut one more unit clean in half.

As he was moving on to the next formation, Heero's voice echoed over his cockpit speakers. "Glad you could make it. Thanks for the assist."

"You knew I'd come," said Wufei as he thrust his beam trident through a Dagger-L's torso.

It wasn't a question, and Heero didn't bother to pretend otherwise. "I know you, Wufei, just as you know me."

Wufei chuckled ruefully as he dodged particle beam fire before cutting down another Dagger-L. "Do I? Seems like you've become a completely different person since coming here."

"I grew up, Wufei," Heero replied firmly as a blast from the Twin Buster Rifle annihilated a formation of Jet Windams, "I learned how to see past the battlefield and look for a real future. There's still time for you to do the same."

Wufei glowered at the display while dispatching a Doppelhorn Windam with his left Dragon Fang. "My future's the same as my present, Heero. I came here as a warrior, and that's how I'll live my life here."

"As stubborn as ever," Heero commented as he cut a Windam in half with his beam saber, "No matter. I didn't invite you here to talk you out of your current path."

"I know," said Wufei as he unleashed his flamethrowers on a formation of self-propelled multi-rack rocket launchers, "Why don't we let our actions do the talking here?"

"Works for me," Heero remarked as two slugs flew from his railguns and blew apart a Dagger-L.

They scarcely had time for further talk in any case. Wufei's arrival had forced the Atlantic Federation army to divert additional forces away from attacking Vienna itself, but the situation was still grave. The city's defenders were fighting tooth and nail, and while Wufei could respect their tenacity he could tell that they were on their last legs. Almost every surviving unit down the defensive line was damaged in some form or another, with some seemingly held together by little more than a few scraps of metal and prayers. The Atlantic Federation had taken considerable losses, but they'd come for a full-scale assault and had plenty of units left to throw into the fray. Even as Wufei continued to plow through their western flank while Heero and Shemei tore into their air units, the enemy army was still attempting to advance. A concentrated push at this point might be enough for the Americans to breach the final defensive line. Particle beams, shells and rockets flew back and forth between both sides with wild abandon, and the almost manic nature of the defenders' fire suggested that they knew they were reaching the breaking point.

As he cut down a group of Doppelhorn Windams with his beam trident, an alarm rang out from Wufei's sensors. Checking his display, he saw a wing of Jet Windams overhead angling for the city. There was no way for Heero or Shemei to get them; both were heavily engaged already. Wufei could perhaps take some if he moved quickly, but not all of them; some would get through and make their attack run on Vienna.

And that was when eighteen Lancer Dart missiles suddenly appeared out of nowhere, destroying a dozen of the machines and damaging several more. Wufei breathed a sigh of relief as three black and red mobile suits materialized seemingly out of thin air; the Wraiths had taken the field. They weren't the only stealth units to make their presence known, either. At the rear of the Atlantic Federation's assault force, a series of fireballs erupted as an emerald crescent ripped apart an artillery formation with a single broad swing, and a mechanical Grim Reaper was silhouetted by the inferno. The God of Death was on the battlefield now.

And where he went, the other Gundam pilots would surely not be far behind.

….

Start "Battle for Farbanti"

So, Heero actually got Wufei to show up, Quatre thought as he raced towards the combat zone with the rest of Terminal's strike force, I wasn't sure if his message would be heeded. Guess the Wufei we know isn't completely lost just yet.

While Heero and Shemei had gone out ahead due to the greater speed of their mobile suits, Quatre had been given command of the rest of the strike force until they reached the battlefield. Acting on his own initiative, he had modified the attack plan. The three Wraiths and Deathscythe Omega had cloaked and moved ahead to launch their surprise attacks, which Quatre and the others would use as their cue to enter the fray. In the leadup to that, the rest of the strike force had swung north, positioning themselves for an assault on the rear of the Atlantic Federation army. With the enemy's attention split between the vanguard and Vienna, it had been almost pathetically easy for Quatre and the others slip in beneath their notice.

Two blasts of energy, one crimson and one golden, announced their arrival. The shots had come from Shinn and Dearka, respectively, with the former unleashing hell from the Agni Hyper Impulse Cannon of the Skygrasper's Launcher Pack while the latter had cut loose with the Vayeate Kai's Heavy Beam Cannon. Both shots found their marks, impacting a formation of Doppelhorn Windams that had been bombarding Vienna's defenders. Those energy blasts were swiftly followed up by a swarm of missiles as Heavyarms Arsenal made its presence known, with the warheads decimating the scattered survivors of Shinn and Dearka's opening salvo.

A cluster of self-propelled guns and rocket launchers was the next to fall, this time under a volley of well-placed particle beams. The source was the swift Tallgeese Kai, with the Hawk of Endymion swooping in to devastate the Atlantic Federation's artillery formations before they could reload for another salvo against the city. Several Jet Windams attempted to save their surface comrades, but found their beam rifles destroyed and wings clipped courtesy of a precise salvo of particle beams, plasma blasts and railgun rounds; Kira had La Flaga covered, and the Freedom made for a formidable fire support platform.

Guess it's about time I joined the party, thought Quatre as he gunned his engines, his Heat Shotels gleaming in the morning sun, I'm good for more than just making plans, after all.

He angled for the dogfight that was unfolding between the Wraiths and Jet Windam squadrons. Catching the Atlantic Federation's aerial units completely by surprise, he'd cut down three of the machines before they'd even realized he was among them. Particle beams from Yzak's Mercurius Kai knocked two more out of the sky as they'd attempted to catch Quatre in a pincer, and the former ZAFT ace was only just getting started. Yellow beam saber blazing, he speared another Jet Windam through the cockpit as Quatre sliced two more machines in half with his crescent blades.

"Glad you could join us, Desert Prince," came the sultry voice of Lan Zhao, "I guess I can share some of these guys with you!"

Quatre smirked. "How generous of you!"

"Look alive, people!" Adaline shouted, "We've got another wing of Jet Windams angling towards the city. Lan, Pris: Lancer Dart salvo with me on my mark!"

"Yzak and I will watch your flanks!" Quatre called out as the three Wraiths began moving into position.

"Appreciated," chirped Priscilla.

The trio of black and red machines took aim and cut loose a moment later, letting fly with their remaining Lancer Dart missiles. As the swarm of warheads tore into the oncoming Windams, Quatre swiftly moved to the left of the Wraiths and cut down two Jet Windams that had been lining up for shots at them. Over on the right side of the formation, Yzak had deployed his Planet Defensors to tank fire from three more machines. Their particle beams splashed against his energy shield with nothing to show for it, while Yzak's return fire was far more effective. The trio of Jet Windams were reduced to bits of superheated scrap with a precise volley, with Yzak already moving on to new targets.

With the incoming attack wave broken up and the Wraiths moving to engage individual targets, Quatre lunged into the fray. Any mobile suit unfortunate enough to find itself within striking range was swiftly torn apart regardless of what frantic measures its pilot took. Whether by design or subconscious desire, Quatre couldn't say, but he found that his current trajectory was taking him towards Lan's Wraith. The lovely Chinese Coordinator had her right beam saber activated and was using it to parry strikes from one Jet Windam while she blasted away at others with the beam rifle set within her left shield. Quatre moved in behind her, his twin crescent blades flashing through the air in streaks of silver as he sliced a Jet Windam that had been moving into position for a shot at her back in half. Soon, just like during the Battle of Berlin, the two of them were fighting back-to-back, and woe be to any foe who dared to challenge them.

"Such a gentleman!" Lan teased as she took down a target with her railguns, "Are you always so mindful when it comes to watching a girl's back?"

"Only when she's as reckless as you," Quatre casually countered as he evaded a beam saber slash before ripping apart his attacker with both blades.

Lan laughed as she destroyed another Jet Windam with a well-placed particle beam. "Reckless? This, coming from a Gundam pilot, of all people? Quatre, I thought you were more self-aware than that!"

Quatre rolled with the dig. "Well, no one's perfect."

"I don't know," Lan replied, and if the feed had been visual Quatre was certain that she'd be smiling, "You come pretty close to it!"

Quatre smiled, but the look in his eyes as he locked in on his next target was all business. "Thanks, but let's save the praise until after save this city."

"Copy that!" Lan eagerly acknowledged, "Give 'em hell, Desert Prince!"

It was a command that Quatre readily obeyed.

….

Checking his six, Shinn twisted and turned the Skygrasper like a maniac as he dodged a volley of particle beams. "I could use a bit of help over here!"

"I see you," came Dearka's voice over the cockpit speakers, "Bank right on my mark, and I'll take him out. Three, two, one, mark!"

Shinn did as Dearka ordered, and was rewarded with a blast from the Vayeate Kai's Heavy Beam Cannon flying through the airspace he'd just occupied a moment ago before vaporizing the Jet Windam that had gotten on his tail. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it," Dearka replied, "We're not done here yet, after all."

That much was certainly true. The enemy's advance had finally been halted, but the battle raging on Vienna's doorstep was still very much anyone's game. Getting himself back on his previous trajectory, Shinn sighted in on a group of Doppelhorn Windams that were bombarding the city's defenders and let fly with a crimson blast from the Agni. His reward was the sight of the lead unit being reduced to bits of smoldering metal, but the remaining machines were now turning their guns on him. Weaving through their counterfire, Shinn opened up with the Skygrasper's topside beam turret and medium caliber cannons. Particle beams and slugs shredded a second target, but Shinn was forced to break off his attack run by a burst of emerald energy bolts from a formation of Jet Windams that were closing in fast on him.

"Shit!" he hissed as he quickly climbed in an effort to lose his pursuers, "Not again!"

This time, it wasn't Dearka offering to save his hide, but Heero. "Shinn, maintain your current heading. Just keep playing evasive for a few seconds."

"Okay," Shinn answered as he white-knuckled the yoke, "Whatever you're planning, Heero, make it quick!"

Heero's response wasn't verbal. Instead, it came in the form of a river of golden-yellow hellfire from the Twin Buster Rifle. The Jet Windams that had been trying to destroy the Skygrasper were wiped out by the blast, leaving Shinn once again free to focus again on attacking ground targets.

Taking the Skygrasper into a wide arc as he descended, Shinn angled the fighter so that its right side faced the ground, giving the Launcher Pack's Combat Weapon's Pod and its various armaments a clear line of fire. Missiles flew forth from the two 350mm gun launchers, while the 120mm anti-ship Vulcan gun spat out rapid bursts of shells. The barrage decimated an artillery formation, blowing apart missile launchers and self-propelled guns alike with ease. As he took the fighter lower, he was met with bursts of autocannon fire from two of the Atlantic Federation's new black and gold assault mobile suits. Twisting about furiously to shake off their aim, Shinn returned fire with a blast from the Agni and the Skygrasper's beam cannon, reducing both machines to molten slag.

Additional explosions detonated behind the formation Shinn had just assaulted; Deathscythe Omega and Heavyarms Arsenal were continuing their work of decimating the Atlantic Federation's artillery. The God of Death made a wide sweep with his signature weapon, with the emerald crescent of his beam scythe slicing through missile and rocket launchers and leaving brilliant blasts in its wake as their payloads detonated. A rain of shells, missiles and particle beams from Heavyarms Arsenal only added to the devastation, with still more artillery pieces going up in flames. Already, the volume of fire being directed at Vienna's defenders had been significantly reduced, and at the rate they were going Duo and Trowa would have the rest of the Atlantic Federation's artillery dealt with in short order.

While the rear of the enemy army was being ravaged by Deathscythe Omega and Heavyarms Arsenal, the flanks had their own problems. Out on the left wing, Kira and La Flaga were ripping into teams of Doppelhorn Windams and their escorting Dagger-Ls with clinical precision. The Freedom's formidable array of weapons made it a single-suit artillery platform in its own right, and the hail of incredibly accurate particle beams, plasma blasts and railgun slugs from Kira was utterly trashing the recoilless cannons mounted on the Windams and taking out the head sensors of the units as well. Meanwhile, the Hawk of Endymion was picking apart the escorting units, making strafing runs on the Dagger-L formations at lightning speed. La Flaga's violet beam saber was often the last sight an Atlantic Federation pilot might see, at least when he wasn't nailing them with snapshots from his rifle. Tallgeese Kai's smoke grenade launchers were also getting a workout, as the Hawk of Endymion was using them to lay down ashen clouds that obscured the enemy's line of fire and bought the forces defending Vienna further reprieve.

On the opposite end of the line, the right wing was being absolute savaged by the emerald buzzsaw that was Altron Custom's double-ended beam trident. With no mercenary ace to contend with here, Wufei was unleashing righteous fury upon the enemy grunts, and were said grunts not trying to assault a city full of innocent civilians Shinn might almost have felt sorry for them. Most of the remaining black and gold assault mobile suits had been diverted to the task of halting Wufei's advance, but they might as well have been trying to stop an EF5-class tornado. Between his beam trident, the twin Dragon Fangs and the flamethrowers mounted within them, Wufei was nothing less than a storm of destructive wrath. Just in the brief glimpse Shinn caught of him, he saw two of the assault mobile suits get cut in half by the beam trident while another was mercilessly crushed by a Dragon Fang. What autocannon rounds and ball bearings from the Heavy Claymores managed to strike the mobile suit did absolutely nothing to slow Wufei down, and Shinn envied the incredibly tough armor of both Altron Custom and other Gundams. Considering just how fragile the Skygrasper was, Shinn would've given his left nut for that kind of protection right now.

While the Atlantic Federation's ground forces were taking a savage kicking from part of the strike force, their air units were faring little better. Two streaks of light, one azure and one crimson, were practically all Shinn could make out the Gundams Wing Zero Albion and Epyon Revenant as Terminal's two top aces tore into the Jet Windam squadrons with unmatched ferocity. Heero would occasionally slow just enough to snap off a shot with the Twin Buster Rifle, but the clash had devolved into a confused brawl and thus his beam saber was getting much more of a workout now that it had been earlier. His verdant blade struck down one machine after another with lethal efficiency, with his saber attacks being supplemented by bursts of shells from his machine cannons and precise salvos from his railguns. As for Shemei, her beam sword and Heat Rod had racked up quite the body count, and she was nowhere near done yet. The surviving Atlantic Federation pilots had learned not to challenger her up close, but their efforts to keep a respectable distance between themselves and the Valkyrie were futile in light of the Epyon Revenant's phenomenal speed. At best it bought them a chance to take a shot or two at her, although the particle beams that flew her way were either effortlessly dodged or blocked on the energy shields built into her outer wings, and they certainly didn't stop her from sending her attackers to the underworld.

As Heero and Shemei occupied the lion's share of the enemy's air force, those Jet Windams not unfortunate enough to fall within their sights found themselves instead facing different but no less deadly opponents. The three Wraiths and the Gundams Sandrock Saladin and Mercurius Kai weren't about to play second fiddle to Wing Zero Albion and Epyon Revenant if their pilots had anything to say about it. Particle beams and railgun slugs flew forth from the Valkyrie's subordinates, while Yzak provided cover courtesy of his unit's Planet Defensors. Both the ZAFT defector and the Desert Prince were also handling those Jet Windams that tried to move in for close-quarters combat, the former fending them off with his blazing yellow saber while the latter ripped into them with his twin Heat Shotels. They'd practically formed an aerial wall between the Atlantic Federation's air forces and Vienna, with any who tried crossing it paying the ultimate price.

That left Shinn and Dearka playing more or less the role of supporting artillery, with the former making attacks on the ground units while the latter split his fire between surface and airborne targets. Mere weeks ago, Shinn would've considered such a role unfitting for himself; he would've wanted to be front and center, putting the Impulse through its paces and proving himself to friend and foe alike. Having the Skygrasper to work with was a blessing in disguise as it forced Shinn to take a much more calculating and cautious approach to combat, something he suspected Heero had had in mind from the start when he'd assigned the fighter jet to him. More importantly, though, was knowing the true purpose of his mission; saving lives, not showing off. His ego meant nothing when innocent people were counting on him for survival.

Climbing and circling over the fray, Shinn searched the battlefield for the next ideal target. He found it in the form of a cluster of Doppelhorn Windams that were trading long-range volleys with a group of Eurasian Federation field guns, Dagger-Ls and tanks dug in along one of the main high-speed rail lines leading into the heart of Vienna. With the enemy distracted by their engagement with the city's defenders, Shinn was in the perfect position to take them by surprise. He led with a crimson blast from the Agni, destroying one Windam and knocking another off its feet with the force of its comrade's detonation. Then, Shinn switched to the Skygrasper's beam turret and medium caliber cannons, destroying a third machine before the remainder began turning their guns on him. Breaking off his attack run, he was barely able to avoid the counterfire from his foes, but their new focus on him left them vulnerable to the targets they'd originally been engaging. A volley of shells and particle beams hammered their position, and the rest of the Atlantic Federation formation was finished off in short order.

Tipping his wings as a gesture of thanks to the Eurasians, Shinn turned around and moved to rejoin Dearka. They were making progress, but they weren't done yet.

End "Battle For Farbanti"

….

Parrying a violet beam saber strike with his emerald blade, Heero's counterattack cut the offending Windam in half. Whirling around as his latest victim fell, he folded his outer wings in to tank a volley of particle beams on their energy shields before returning fire with his rail guns, taking down two more machines in short order. Ascending to avoid getting caught in a crossfire from three mobile suits that had tried to flank him, Heero then unleashed a rain of shells from his machine cannons, shredding one of them. Gunning his engines, he dived back into the fray, impaling the second Jet Windam on his saber before taking out the third with a salvo from his railguns.

Shemei's voice crackled over his cockpit speakers. "You'd think these guys might take the hint already! Why the hell aren't they retreating?"

It was a good question, and one that Heero had been asking himself for the past few minutes. The Atlantic Federation's assault had been blunted, and the losses incurred by the enemy since the arrival of the Gundams had only continued to mount. They still had the numbers advantage, but their edge wasn't nearly as considerable as it had been at the start of the engagement. Theoretically, they could still breach the Eurasian's defensive line, and they were trying to do just that, but any sane officer at this point would've recognized that the resulting casualties simply weren't worth it an ordered a withdrawal. Heero had seen fanatics in combat before, but the Atlantic Federation army attacking Vienna was taking their zeal to suicidal extremes.

Under the circumstances, Heero knew that there were only two possible outcomes here. "Tactically and strategically, they've already lost, but they're so consumed by bloodlust that their blind to their peril. We either break their will here and now, or we'll have to slay them all. They certainly won't surrender at this rate."

"You got a plan?" asked Shemei.

"I do," Heero replied as he deactivated his beam saber and put the weapon away before splitting the Twin Buster Rifle, "A display of overwhelming firepower. If this doesn't get them to head for the hills, nothing will. Cover me."

"Copy that!" Shemei acknowledged as she sliced a Jet Windam in half.

Gaining altitude, Heero aimed one rifle towards the right flank of the Atlantic Federation arm and the other to the left. He sent a quick transmission to his allies on those flanks as a warning while charging his weapons. Once all friendlies were out of the way and his guns had accumulated sufficient energy, Heero cut loose.

Two pillars of golden-yellow hellfire rained down simultaneously upon the enemy ground forces. The ensuing blasts annihilated mobile suits and artillery pieces alike while turning the positions they'd occupied into smoking craters. Several Jet Windams hastily moved in to attack, but they were intercepted by Shemei, who wasted no time in carving into them with her beam sword and Heat Rod. Confident that the Valkyrie had what few enemy air units remained well under control, Heero concentrated on selecting his next targets. He didn't allot as much power to his follow-up shots, instead focusing on rate of fire rather than raw might. The proceeding bombardment was no less deadly, though, and the few remaining cohesive enemy formations rapidly cracked and scattered.

Emboldened by the barrage, Heero's allies intensified their efforts, perhaps sensing that it was make or break now. Duo was carving a swath of carnage around him with his beam scythe, while Trowa blasted everything in sight with his Double Assault Beam Cannon and gatling guns. Dearka and Shinn again opened up with their heavy weapons, only further adding to the chaos and mass destruction engulfing the Atlantic Federation army. Potshots from Kira and La Flaga kept stragglers from breaking off and making a run on the city, while Wufei amplified the mayhem with two long blasts from Altron Customs flamethrowers. Overhead, the three Wraiths poured particle beams and railgun rounds into what few Jet Windams still stood against them, their efforts enhanced by Quatre and Yzak swooping in from the flanks and hacking away with their respective melee weapons. Encouraged by the strike force's furious assault, the defenders of Vienna opened up with whatever they had left, determined to punish the Atlantic Federation dearly for daring to threaten their city.

Whether it was his own relentless barrage, the supplemental attacks from his allies, or the wrath of the Eurasians that did the trick, Heero couldn't say. All that mattered, though, was that somewhere down below him, one of the surviving Atlantic Federation field commanders had apparently snapped back to their senses just enough to realize that their force stood upon the verge of complete annihilation. Self-preservation finally overrode whatever dark impulse had driven the enemy to continue their futile assault, and the remnants of a once-mighty army finally began to disengage. The fighting didn't subside immediately, but a somewhat orderly withdrawal was soon underway, with a few particularly fanatical units acting as an unwitting rearguard while their slightly saner comrades left them to their grisly fates.

In a surprisingly quick transition, what had once been a raging battlefield just a few minutes ago soon fell silent. Scattered fires burned below from the wrecks of destroyed units from both sides, with columns of smoke wafting into the air and serving as unintentional grave markers. As medics rushed to evacuate the wounded, Terminal's strike force hovered overhead, waiting to make sure that the enemy didn't have any further surprises to spring upon them.

After a long moment of silence, Duo's voice came over the tactical channel. "At the risk of jinxing it… is it over?"

"I believe it is," Trowa answered.

A weary sigh came from Quatre. "About time. I thought we were going to have to completely wipe them out."

"For what they wanted to do here, they'd deserve it," Lan growled.

"Cool it, Lan," Adaline admonished her.

"We beat them back," Priscilla added, "That's enough for now."

"It's definitely an improvement over yesterday," Shemei remarked as the Epyon Revenant turned its gaze upon the city they had just saved, "No repeat of Berlin… I'd call that a win."

"Thank goodness we got here in time," said Kira.

"We cut it pretty damn close," La Flaga noted.

"No kidding," Shinn muttered, sounding like he wanted nothing more than to collapse from relief.

Dearka chuckled. "We really showed them this time! Another one of their new toys destroyed, and this time before it could start torching the city. We even got one of their latest land battleships in the bargain."

"That's true," Yzak chimed in, though he sounded less confident than his friend, "Tactically, this was a defeat for the enemy. However, they're still setting the overall terms of engagement. We're reacting to their moves here, playing defense rather than offense. If we can't find a way to alter that dynamic soon, then the outcome of the next fight might not be as favorable as this one."

Heero nodded. "He's right. We need to return to the ships and plot out our next move. The Atlantic Federation offensive's been blunted here, but there are other fronts on this continent that must be attended to."

He then turned his gaze towards Altron Custom. "We could use your help, Wufei. I can't help but notice that no ZAFT units came with you this time. You acted independently, didn't you?"

"What of it?" Wufei shot back.

"From the look of things, it seems that Durandal was willing to sit back and let Vienna burn," Heero argued, "He didn't even send token aid like he did with Berlin. You came here without ZAFT support. How does Durandal standing by while innocents are threatened with wholesale slaughter fit with your definition of justice?"

Wufei was silent for a long moment. As far as Heero was concerned, that silence was deafening. Wufei wouldn't readily give voice to doubts and second thoughts, but there were other ways to read his current state of mind for those who knew him.

When Wufei eventually spoke, it wasn't with his usual self-assuredness. "I'll have him answer for his negligence here."

Heero was skeptical, though not of Wufei. "What kind of answer do you think you'll get from him? I'm sure he'll have one tailor-made just for you, but will it really satisfy you? He's playing a larger game here. I think even you recognize that. How long are you going to let yourself be a piece on his side of the chess board?"

"I'm nobody's 'piece'," Wufei defiantly snapped.

"If you say so," Heero remarked, satisfied that the seed of doubt had taken root in the back of the young man's mind.

Altron Custom began to rise and angle itself towards the southwest. "Until the next battlefield, Heero Yuy."

"Wufei, wait!" Duo yelled to no avail as his fellow Gundam pilot took off, "Damn it… bastard's as stubborn as they come."

"Let him go," said Heero as he watched the blazing azure-white fire of the Altron Customs' thrusters quickly fade into the distance, "He'll come around in time."

"And if he doesn't?" asked Trowa pointedly.

Heero's eyes took on a dark edge. "Then there will be a reckoning… one way or the other."

"Let's hope he comes back to his senses before then," Quatre muttered as he looked around, "In the meantime, what's our next move? Things have gone quiet here. Pretty sure the enemy has had enough for today."

"We're not really outfitted to aid with search and rescue operations," Shemei noted, "Best to stay out of the locals' way."

Heero nodded. "She's right. Let's withdraw. We've done all we really can here… and I suspect our next battlefield won't be too hard to find."

Preview for next time!

With Vienna saved, Terminal's strike force returns to the battleships. Upon their arrival, they learn through Major Gardinier that the Atlantic Federation has a much larger army on the move in the east. The force's target is Moscow, the capital of the Eurasian Federation. While the Eurasians fight to slow the oncoming tide, Terminal moves into position for their next intervention. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Twenty-Five: The Fire of Defiance.

'Hear Marshall Zhukov's and Stalin's orders.'

'Defend the Motherland.'

'Moscow Shall Not Fall.'

Defence of Moscow, by Sabaton.

Author's Notes: First off, time for a shoutout; Paul Hartmann and Sasha Raukoff were RedRat8's OCs, and the Hyperion Nova their original MS. Hope I did them both justice with their cameo, friend!

Kind of on a Sabaton kick lately, as the more cultured amongst you have undoubtedly noticed. Spoiler alert; that's not going away anytime soon.

Hope you all liked the chapter! Feel free to review, stay safe, and see you all next time!