Gundam Wing: Destiny's Call

by operation meteor

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

29. Chapter 29

Author's Notes: Hello there! I've become rather enamored with the sea as of late. I live in the Pacific Northwest, so our beaches might not be the sun and surf-friendly sort that you get further south, at least not year-round, but they have a different sort of charm to them. I took a road trip in early May out to Ocean Shores and just lost myself walking along the shore and amongst the dunes for a good long weekend. It was honestly quite therapeutic, walking up and down the shore for miles on end helped me forget about all my worries for a while. The sound of the waves, the sand blowing in the wind, the great blue stretching infinitely out into the west… for me, it's pretty much heaven on earth. There's something about driving out for hours to a town by the sea where no one knows me and just getting swept up in the sights, scent and sound of the sea that I find both intoxicating and liberating. I've got another trip lined up for the start of July, though the town I'm going to will be Westport this time. Another long weekend with the endless beach and the ocean for company… what more could I ever ask for?

Anyway, enough about my sudden wanderlust and travel plans, they're not what you're here for. Chapter's as long as ever, and there's no action this time around. Don't worry, the mobile suit battles will return in due time. No music lined up for this chapter, either.

Enjoy!

Episode Twenty-Nine: Parallel Machinations

While the other pilots had gone off to bed as soon as they'd returned to their respective warships, as flight leader of the strike team flying off the Archangel Heero didn't have that luxury. As much as he might have preferred to hit the hay upon completion of a long-range strike mission, he had post-operation responsibilities that required attending. So, upon landing and entrusting Wing Zero Albion to Chief Murdoch's crew for maintenance, Heero had gone to meet with Murrue and Major Gardinier in the Captain's office. Joining them via the monitor on Murrue's desk was Natarle and Shemei.

"So, what exactly happened at Devonport?" asked Heero, "Even from a distance, that blast was immense."

Major Gardinier flashed a devious smirk. "Tell me, Monsieur Yuy; are you familiar with the Halifax Disaster?"

Heero's brow furrowed for a moment. "Vaguely. Was back when the calendar still used the old A.D. designation… 1917, right? Major accident involving one ship colliding with a transport laden with explosives?"

"That's the one," Major Gardinier confirmed, "Basically, our friends across the pond decided to grace the Atlantic Federation with a cover performance, if you will. A ship called Halifax was brought into Devonport's harbor carrying ammunition. For a bit of extra spice, it was positioned near an oil tanker called the Funka. I trust you can see where this is going?"

Heero slowly nodded. "They basically turned it into a giant IED."

Shemei's whistle came over the speakers beneath the screen. "Hot damn! That's a nasty trick. Clever, but brutal as hell."

"And indiscriminate," Murrue muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Gardinier, "A blast like that doesn't care if military or civilian targets get caught up in it."

Sibylle nodded. "I understand your worries regarding potential collateral damage. Thankfully, that wasn't the concern that you might think it is. Devonport's naval base is a very expansive facility… or rather, it was. The explosion was firmly within the bounds of the base itself. The civilian population center is far enough away from the base that the worst they got was buildings along the side of the city facing the military installation got their windows blown out."

Murrue let out a relieved exhalation. "That's good."

"Definitely," Heero concurred, "How did the mercenaries perform?"

Sibylle smiled. "I can forward you their preliminary reports, if you would like to judge for yourself. Captain Ramius has already done so."

Heero turned to Murrue. "We already got data from them? What's your impression?"

"Bold, efficient, and professional," Murrue replied, "They covered the operation well and kept some dangerous enemies from interfering. I won't stop you from reading the reports yourself, but if you want my verdict, I'd say they're solid. The resistance made the right call in hiring them."

Murrue's praise piqued Heero's interest. "I'll definitely look it over later. They must've done well indeed to earn your respect."

Murrue smiled. "Well, we can't exactly afford to be picky right now when it comes to allies. I'm just glad that the resistance's hired help is of the high-quality kind."

"Can we entrust the action over here to them and the Eurasians?" asked Natarle, "We were planning to head back east after this, right? Is that still on the table?"

"It is," Murrue confirmed, "Now that everyone's back, our group will be setting off for Orb."

"So, it's time, then," Heero remarked, "We're finally going to bring Cagalli back to her people. Are our allies back there ready?"

"Kisaka and the others have been laying the groundwork for some time now," Murrue answered, "Erica Simmons has been able to use Morgenroete's considerable resources to keep those who stayed behind safe, and they've been lying in wait ever since. Recent reports suggest they've made plenty of new allies in the nation's military, security and civil apparatus. When we make our move, we will be very well supported."

Heero nodded. "Good. Unato's held Cagalli's seat of power for far too long already. The sooner he and his lackeys are overthrown, the better."

"There'll be repercussions," Natarle chimed in, "I doubt the Atlantic Federation will take kindly to having their puppet ousted."

"They're not in much of a position to do anything about it," Shemei pointed out, "We wrecked their Pacific fleet at the start of the war. I know the Atlantic Federation yards can turn out ships at a quick pace once they get up to speed, but we're not quite at that point yet."

"And our friends across the pond have a scheme they're preparing to make sure that we don't reach it at all," Major Gardinier added.

Heero was intrigued. "What do they have in mind?"

Major Gardinier shook her head. "I'm afraid they couldn't provide much by way of details for operational security's sake, but my impression is that they're setting up to sabotage the Atlantic Federation's shipyards. It's impossible to say how much damage they'll be able to do given the sheer scale of those facilities, though."

"Every little bit helps," said Murrue, "We'll take whatever assistance they can offer. The more they gum up the works over in North America, the less that the Atlantic Federation will be able to play on their industrial advantage."

"Here's hoping that they have a giant wrench to throw into things," Heero quipped, "Best of luck to them, but our focus should remain on Orb. What's our part in Unato's ousting going to be?"

"We still need to hammer out the details," Murrue replied, "Luckily, we'll have plenty of travel time to get that all sorted. I'd like for you to be well rested for the first of our planning sessions."

Heero allowed himself a small smile; that was Murrue's not-so-subtle hint that he needed to hit the hay now, and he wasn't about to argue with her. "I will be. Just make sure to follow your own advice."

Murrue nodded. "I'll be joining you within the next hour or so; just need to wrap a few things up here. Get some sleep, Heero. You've put in more than your share of work tonight."

"Roger that," Heero concurred, already heading for the door.

….

"My apologies for the late meeting," said Durandal as a certain ZAFT Red entered his office, "I'm afraid my schedule for today was a bit fuller than I had originally planned. Thank you for coming despite the unfavorable hour."

"No need to apologize, sir," Rey replied as came before Durandal's desk and saluted, "You're the Chairman, I'm a soldier; I follow your commands. Simple as that."

Durandal smiled. "At ease, Rey. By now, I would hope that we could be considered as more than just master and subordinate. We share the same vision, after all. Are we not comrades and partners in pursuit of our noble goal?"

"We might share the vision," Rey answered as he took the seat in front of the desk, "but you're its architect. I'm merely an instrument in its implementation."

"You belittle yourself," Durandal protested, "Your role in all of this is far more than that of a mere instrument. You are my eyes and ears, keeping one of our most valuable pieces on the board in play and in line with our designs."

Rey's shoulders sagged. "Not when it counts. Not with Shinn. I should've realized that something wasn't right with him when he brought the girl aboard. He was way too attached to her. I should've intervened."

"Intervened and done what?" Durandal asked rhetorically, "By the time anyone realized just how far Shinn was willing to go for the captured Extended pilot, it was already far too late. Besides, he had Heero Yuy helping him with the escape. I admire your skills, Rey, but I also have a realistic appraisal of them; as you are now, you're no match for him. Had you confronted him either in your mobile suit or on foot before he and Shinn were able to take off, I highly doubt that it would've affected the outcome."

"I should be a match for him" Rey growled, "For him, for Shinn… for all of your enemies. It's what I was trained for."

"Your training could only accomplish so much," Durandal countered, "Far more important is the practical experience that you've gained since the attack on Armory One. Even then, though, your ultimate enemy has another whole war's worth of experience over you. Still, based on what I've seen of your combat record so far in this conflict, you're quickly closing the gap. Soon, you'll be able to take things further; our best design team has seen to that."

Rey perked up at that. "So, it's ready, then? The Legend?"

"Nearly so," Durandal answered, "It still requires some fine tuning, which is unavoidable given the complexity of the design, but that process is already in its final stages. It will be in your hands soon enough."

"What about the companion unit?" asked Rey, "Is the Destiny ready for action?"

"Almost," Durandal replied, "Like the Legend, some final adjustments are needed before it can be considered fully operational. Given just how advanced the unit is and how much has been invested in it, prudence and redundant checks are necessary to ensure that all our hard work doesn't go to waste."

Rey nodded. "Of course. Who will be assigned to that unit?"

Durandal sighed. "Originally, I was planning on having Shinn Asuka take possession of the Destiny. His highly aggressive combat style fits the unit quite nicely. Alas, that is no longer possible. The unit will be assigned to Athrun Zala instead."

The Chairman saw Rey stiffen in his seat, bristling at the very name of the FAITH member. "With all due respect, sir, I believe that's unwise. Athrun Zala cannot be trusted."

Durandal leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "Oh? Why is that? His combat record ever since rejoining ZAFT has been exemplary. While it's true that his recent engagement with the Freedom was a failure, he went after his target with all appropriate aggressiveness and determination. The Saviour was simply outclassed by the Freedom; the combat data supports that conclusion. Given a more powerful replacement unit, I see no reason why Athrun would be unable to eliminate the threat posed by Kira Yamato from the board."

Rey's eyes narrowed. "May I speak frankly, sir?"

"You really ought to make a habit of it when it's just the two of us," said Durandal, "What troubles you, Rey?"

Rey sighed. "I can't base this on anything concrete, but… something felt wrong about this battle, sir. Including Athrun's part in it. Are we sure that he wasn't the source of the leak?"

Durandal nodded. "While the SIB's investigation is still ongoing, what updates they've shared with me so far have already ruled out Athrun as a suspect. He's been monitored throughout his time with us, and he's never once been in a position where he could gain the sort of access that was necessary for the hack at Gibraltar to take place. None of his communications have been revealed to hold such operational intelligence, either. He is in the clear, Rey."

Rey gritted his teeth. "Even so… I cannot bring myself to trust him."

Durandal tilted his head slightly in a quizzical manner as he studied the young man across the desk from him. "That distrust… is it really rooted in Athrun's performance during the battle, or does it flow from another source? Are you sure that you're not simply transposing your understandably sour feelings regarding Shinn's betrayal onto an undeserving target?"

"Athrun betrayed ZAFT in the past," Rey shot back, "His loyalty has always been suspect."

"That is one way to look at it," Durandal admitted, "thought it lacks crucial context. The ZAFT that he betrayed was the one under Patrick Zala's leadership. Given that regime's very clear end goal, betraying it is hardly a black mark on someone's record. That is why I have worked so hard to reform the PLANTs and ZAFT since taking office. The radical faction's rule was so morally bankrupt that it alienated many of our best and brightest, resulting in defections that played no small role in the war's final outcome. The ZAFT that we have built from the wreckage of its prior incarnation is meant to be one where brilliant soldiers can serve with a clean conscience."

Rey looked more than a little skeptical. "So, Athrun Zala's supposed to remain loyal because our new ZAFT is ethically superior to the one corrupted by his father? All well and good in theory, but it leaves out something crucial; our 'new ZAFT' has now ordered him to fight against his friends. The old ZAFT did that as well. We all know how that turned out."

Durandal inclined his head. "Yes, we do. I will take your concerns under advisement, Rey, though I do feel that they remain overblown… and perhaps unduly though understandably influenced by your own recent experience with betrayal."

Rey closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he let out a weary sigh and noticeably slumped down in his chair.

"You… may be right," the pilot eventually conceded.

Durandal put on a sympathetic smile. "It is never easy to see one that was once so close to us chart a path that we know is folly. Shinn's radical divergence clearly cut deep, and that's not surprising. I know how close you two became during your time at the Academy, and that's a bond that no doubt only grew as you served together through these past turbulent months. In fact, I daresay he was the first friend you ever had in your own age group. For his betrayal to burn you so hotly is more than understandable."

Rey nodded, the distant look in his eyes suggesting that his mind was no longer in this office, but instead dwelling in a not-to-distant past. "Of all people, the world you and I want to build would help someone like Shinn the most. Someone who has suffered so dearly from humanity's foolish past wars could finally be given peace. I believed that Shinn would've supported what you and I seek. His passion for doing what he felt was just and right always burned brightly… even in the case with the prisoner he abducted. He was misguided, but driven by noble intentions. I wonder… if you or I had brought him fully into our circle, explained to him in detail about how we're going to change the world for the better… would he have stayed?"

"I should be asking you that," Durandal countered, "For all that I have monitored his potential and progress from afar, you're the one that has more personal experience with him. So, you tell me; had we taken him into confidence regarding our ultimate goals, would he have remained on our side?"

Rey leaned forward with a pensive and inward gaze. "I… I'm not sure. He was idealistic and naïve enough at first to be easily swayed, but the longer the war went on… and the more that damn Heero Yuy spoke to him… he may have begun drifting earlier than I thought. Still, I don't think the Gundam pilot was a decisive influence on him. It all came down to that girl. Something about her resonated with him, pulled on him in a way that I don't understand. When he somehow learned of what ZAFT had planned for her, that pushed him over the edge."

Rey's eyes narrowed as he looked at Durandal. "The girl was the key. Had she not been ordered shipped to the PLANTs for vivisection, Shinn would not have defected."

Durandal put a hand to his chest while fixing Rey with a polite but mirthless smile. "Rey… if I didn't know better, I'd almost think that you're implying this is all my fault. How was I to know that the girl had such an effect on Shinn when you and Heine failed to apprise me fully as to the value she had for him?"

"The order was still at the heart of all this," Rey argued with a glare, "An order that one might think more in line with the old ZAFT. Unless, of course, the new ZAFT believes prisoner vivisection is morally superior to straight up execution. If it does, I must have missed that in my Academy military ethics course."

Durandal folded his arms and smirked cruelly. "Neither of us have moral high ground to claim here, Rey. Had you been in a position to, you would've tried to stop Shinn from abducting the girl. Don't pretend that you wouldn't have; I know you, Rey."

"As I know you," Rey icily shot back.

A tense silence hung between them for a few seconds before Durandal brushed it aside with a dismissive wave. "Well, it's all a moot point now. Pondering 'what ifs' may be an interesting thought exercise, but it does little to help us in the here and now. What matters for our purposes is that Shinn not only left us, but is now in active and violent opposition to us; his actions in the recent battle are proof enough of that. Whatever bridge was left between him and us has been burned, so there is nothing for it now but to eliminate him before he becomes too great a threat."

"So, you back my decision, then," said Rey, "Captain Gladys was insistent that I made the wrong call in focusing my efforts on him."

"From a tactical and strategic standpoint, I cannot fault Talia's logic," Durandal replied, "Her actions and priorities reflect those of any competent military officer placed in such a situation. Going by her defined role, she acted appropriately and judged you fairly. Through the lenses of a traditional military officer, though, is the wrong way to view someone like Shinn Asuka. His potential has only continued to ripen over the course of this conflict. You and I both know as much. That was why I made him a Red, and why we both worked in our own ways to protect him despite his previous indiscretions. Given more time, I would've promoted him to FAITH membership and granted him a more powerful mobile suit; his skillful use of the Impulse indicated his talents would eventually outstrip the capabilities of that machine, so an upgrade was inevitably due. Now, though, that talent is in the employ of perhaps our most dangerous enemy. To make matters worse, he's clearly fallen under the influence of someone who recognizes what he can become, just like you and I do."

"Heero Yuy," Rey growled.

Durandal nodded. "Credit where it's due; he pulled off quite the coup in convincing Shinn to defect. Simply snatching the Extended prisoner and escaping from the Minerva unscathed would have been impressive enough, but he went the extra mile. The prize he gained in doing so was far more than just a valuable captive. I'll wager that if anyone else in the Earth Sphere understands Shinn's true value, it's Heero Yuy. That's why he convinced Shinn to go with him; he deprived us of a priceless piece, and he's already turned him against us."

"But they only have Shinn flying an outdated aircraft from the last war," Rey argued, "If they really valued Shinn's potential, wouldn't they give him something more formidable?"

"I would imagine that they still have some questions regarding his ultimate loyalties," Durandal mused aloud, "It may also be a matter of unit availability; even a ship as large as the Archangel can only fit so many machines, after all. The Skygrasper could simply be all that they can spare for Shinn to fly apart from the stolen Core Splendor module. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, he's certainly made good use of what Terminal's given him. In time, I fear that they'll see fit to equip him with something more befitting his talents."

"So, we have to kill him before that day comes," said Rey with a dark undertone of anticipation and menace.

"We must," Durandal concurred, steepling his fingers together in front of him, "You must, Rey. Shinn is a threat that needs to be nipped in the bud. The next time you encounter him on the battlefield, you are to eliminate him by any means necessary."

Rey's eyes narrowed. "Is that a direct order? Will you be passing that along to Captain Gladys?"

"Not quite," Durandal answered, "Officially, it's a rather bad look to assign a pilot to eliminate a former close comrade, so you can consider this to be an off-the-books objective to be completed when the opportunity presents itself."

"That doesn't exactly help me out with regards to Captain Gladys," Rey argued, "She was already furious about me going after Shinn before. She won't react any better to it a second time."

Durandal nodded. "I can sympathize with your situation, but it's better this way. I'll be elevating you to FAITH membership before the Minerva sets sail again, so your authority will be equal to Talia's. That should help lessen any risk to you."

"I'd still prefer an official order," Rey pressed.

Durandal shook his head. "I'm sure you would, but we can't have that sort of order on the record. ZAFT pilots, Red or otherwise, aren't supposed to be used as the Supreme Council Chairman's personal assassins. Your new FAITH membership will suffice for shielding you from the worst repercussions."

Rey still didn't look satisfied, but declined to continue arguing; the young pilot knew Durandal well enough to understand when a point was no longer worth pursuing. "Understood. I'd like to circle back to the matter of Athrun Zala, then."

Durandal's brow furrowed. "We've already discussed that. What more needs to be said?"

Rey sighed. "It's… a hunch. Something was off with him during the battle. The way he fought Kira… he went down too easily. Almost like they'd planned it that way."

"Such planning would've been impossible," Durandal pointed out, "Like I said before, we've been carefully monitoring Athrun's communications. There's no way he could've reached out to any of his old friends without us knowing."

Rey nodded. "I know. I'm just telling you what I feel, that's all. I don't have any hard evidence. Even so… he bears further watching."

"And he will be watched," Durandal reassured him with a dark undertone, "Should he do anything to give us just cause for doubt, then those doubts will be resolved decisively."

….

December 13th, C.E. 73

Missions come and go, thought Heero as he took his seat in the front row of the briefing room and waited for the others to file in, each with their unique challenges and circumstances, but all the work outside of them remains the same. Repair, rearm, rest, plan and train… I suppose some routine can be comforting in wartime.

It did not take long for everyone to assemble; as this meeting was focused on Terminal's next strategic move rather than an upcoming tactical operation, it only required the attendance of those considered to be leadership figures. Heero found it more than a little amusing that he was numbered among them. After all, at the end of the day, what was he but just another pilot? Murrue had argued otherwise, pointing out that his unique experience as a soldier from another world offered a valuable perspective that others lacked. That was why Duo was one of the figures in attendance today, too; he'd come over more recently from the After Colony world, which meant his perspective could further enhance Heero's. It was also why Quatre and Trowa would be joining them over an encrypted channel from the Dominion.

In addition to Heero, Murrue, and Duo, those taking part in the meeting from the Archangel's side included Major Gardinier to represent both the Eurasian Federation and the North American resistance, Kira to act as Lacus's stand-in, and Cagalli as Orb's Chief Representative. Cagalli's presence was all the more poignant today due to the subject matter at hand; Terminal's long-awaited return to the Orb Union. The Archangel, Dominion and Chimaera had been on an eastward heading ever since the strike team had returned, and they had a very long journey ahead of them.

Heero saw the black slate that was the screen on the wall flicker before resolving into an image broadcast from the Dominion's briefing room. Apart from Quatre and Trowa, the contingent there included only Natarle, Shemei and Eric Bristow.

"Encryption check," said Natarle, "Are we secure?"

Murrue, who was standing near the monitor, leaned forward to check a small console beneath the main screen before nodding. "Tight beam link established and secure. We're good, Natarle."

Duo stretched his arms and yawned. "Couldn't this have waited another hour or so? Wouldn't mind getting a bit more sleep. Plenty of time to hash everything out during the trip, right?"

Heero shot him a scowl. "You had plenty of time to get sufficient rest, and this can't wait. We're going to be spending the whole trip 'hashing everything out', as you put it; the sooner we get started, the better."

Cagalli nodded, though she did give Duo a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, Duo, but Heero's right. Overthrowing a government, even an illegitimate one, isn't as simple as destroying mobile suits or warships. We need to plan this thoroughly and make sure we get everything right. We'll only get one shot at this."

"Ain't that the truth," Murrue chimed in, "If everyone's ready, let's get this session underway."

She aimed a remote at the screen and tapped a few keys. The image on the monitor became a basic map of North Africa, with a trio of green dots appearing to represent the Archangel, Dominion, and Chimaera. Already, their position was considerably eastward relative to where they had been situated during the previous night's strike, but Heero knew that they still had a very long way to go before reaching their ultimate destination.

"As you're all aware," Murrue began, "our attacks on the Atlantic Federation naval bases last night were our last major operation in the European theater of this war. As we speak, we're on course for the Red Sea. Once we're over deep enough water, we'll be diving and continuing the trip underwater. It'll be slower going, but it's vital to keep off the radar of both the Earth Alliance and ZAFT. With luck, we should make it to Orb without anyone being the wiser."

"With the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet still recovering from our strikes at the beginning of this war," Natarle chimed in, "the only real naval threat on our way back to Orb will be ZAFT squadrons operating out of Carpentaria. Do we know how far afield they're deploying?"

"My contacts within ZAFT have indicated that their Carpentaria fleet units are playing things cautiously," Eric answered, "Since Orb is currently a belligerent power and still has an active navy in their home waters despite the loss of the First Fleet, most of Carpentaria's heavy hitters aren't straying too far out. There are some Vosgulov-class flotillas patrolling the Indian Ocean, but they're spread thin and therefore won't be able to concentrate against us if we're detected. Any individual flotilla we come across can be dealt with quickly thanks to our advantage in firepower."

"I'd rather avoid such a confrontation altogether," Murrue remarked, "Secrecy is of the utmost importance given the nature of our mission. Any clash between us and ZAFT may still be detected by outside parties, and word could easily pass along to Orb."

"Can't argue with that assessment," Eric replied, "All we can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst."

"Do the Eurasians have any fleet units operating in the region?" asked Kira, "They might be able to provide support in a pinch."

Major Gardinier shook her head. "Nothing substantial, I'm afraid. We do maintain some reconnaissance units in the region, but they won't be of much use in a straight-up fight."

"So, we'll be on our own," said Heero, "Nothing new there."

"The crew of the Chimaera would beg to differ," Major Gardiner pointed out.

Heero inclined his head. "True. Let me rephrase that; help outside our group will not be forthcoming."

Major Gardinier sighed. "Unfortunately, that is accurate."

"The Eurasians have enough on their plate without diverting additional forces to the south," Murrue interjected, "We're lucky that they deemed fit to send the Chimaera with us given their situation. That'll have to be enough as far as aid from Moscow goes. Let's set potential encounters with ZAFT fleet units aside for now; that's a secondary concern. Our primary focus needs to be linking up with those we left behind in Orb. Although they haven't been fighting directly in this war, they've hardly been idle, either."

"You're right about that," said Eric, "Miss Simmons has been feeding me constant updates ever since we left. Morgenroete's been able to continue sheltering members of Terminal in Orb under their umbrella, and the conglomerate's position within Orb's economy and defense industry is so critical that the Seiran regime doesn't dare poke around, no matter how much Unato's backers in the Atlantic Federation might want him to. As such, Morgenroete's network of corporate properties and safehouses have become something of a hub for elements within Orb that oppose Unato's government, and those elements have experienced a considerable uptick in numbers and strength ever since Yuna's disastrous expedition with the First Fleet."

Kira winced. "It's good that we're getting more support, but… it came at a high cost."

"Too high," Cagalli added, her voice barely more than a haunted whisper.

"That cost could raise problems for us," said Duo, "I mean, we played a significant role in trashing the First Fleet. Those sailors and mobile suit pilots would've had friends and family back in Orb. I highly doubt they're happy with the fact that their loved ones died fighting us."

"Some resentment is inevitable," Eric confirmed, "but from what I've been hearing, it sounds like they're far more pissed off at the Seirans for putting their loved ones in that situation to begin with. Unato's tried to suppress details on what's happened, but our sympathizers within Orb's military have been leaking information like a sieve; everyone knows that Yuna ordered the First Fleet to attack Cagalli. Given her status with the people of the Orb Union, I'm sure you all can imagine how well that's gone over."

Heero nodded before looking at Cagalli. "The Seirans couldn't even officially oust you thanks to your popularity with the common people; that's why they tried to get you to marry Yuna and become their puppet. When we spirited you away, they had to pretend you were merely ill rather than gone and out of their control. That was a blow to them, but a manageable one. Yuna ordering Orb soldiers to fire upon you, though, was clearly a step too far. Despite the carnage that we inflicted upon the First Fleet, there were survivors; they heard the order just as clearly as those we sent to the grave. They know that their comrades died because of Yuna. I imagine that they've been looking for payback against the Seirans ever since. Leaking information that damages Unato's family is a good start."

Cagalli nodded, though her doubts remained evident. "That may be, but… if I had been strong enough to keep the Seirans from exerting such influence over Orb, then Yuna would never have been in the position to give those orders in the first place. The Seirans may be the ones that pulled Orb into the war on the side of the Earth Alliance, but I was the one who failed to contain and thwart their ambitions."

Murrue shook her head. "You're being too hard on yourself, Cagalli. You were doing all you could to hold Orb together and keep her people safe, and the Seirans exploited that simply to fulfill their own petty ambitions. Maybe mistakes were made, but I daresay that people would prefer your honest leadership to the snake that rules them now."

"Especially since that snake has dragged them into war on the side of a power waging a genocidal campaign flying in the face of everything that Orb is supposed to stand for," Heero added, "Your people recognized two years ago what the Atlantic Federation was really after in the first war, and those aims haven't changed a damn bit in the second. Unato's made them all unwilling accomplices to an agenda of mass slaughter, and all it's gotten them in return is the deaths of their friends and family. Your people are smart enough to recognize that there's no future for Orb in such a partnership."

Cagalli took a deep breath. "I hope you're right."

Natarle cleared her throat. "While I'm sure that resentment for the Seiran family's actions on the part Orb's military will help us in overthrowing Unato, we need more than that. The Seirans sold their policy of aligning Orb with the Earth Alliance as a means of protecting the country from the threat of invasion. Given how harsh the Atlantic Federation was in the last war and this one, I'd say that the people of Orb aren't wrong in fearing a reprise. If we're to truly gain their support and trust, then we need to convince them that we have the means to provide protection from what they fear. You all fought valiantly in the defense of Orb last time around… but the country still fell in the end. I'm not saying that to belittle your efforts; it's simply objective fact."

Murrue begrudgingly conceded. "There's no getting around that, I suppose. The people would be justified in wondering who would guarantee their country's survival should Orb defy the Atlantic Federation. Terminal's numbers are too limited for us alone to be that guarantee."

"But Terminal no longer has to act alone as that guarantee," Quatre pointed out, "Not with the allies that we've made recently."

Major Gardinier smiled. "That is quite true. Lady Cagalli, surely you have not forgotten what was discussed in Moscow. Now that the Eurasian Federation has seceded from the Earth Alliance, we're free to enact an independent foreign policy. Moscow is more than willing to act as Orb's guarantor, and our Pacific Fleet provides the means to do so."

"Do you have the authority to make a proclamation to that effect publicly?" asked Trowa, "If the people of Orb heard such an announcement from both Cagalli and a member of the Eurasian Federation military, it could help greatly in allaying their fears."

Major Gardinier nodded. "As part of my liaison duties, I've been vested with the authority to act as the face of the Eurasian Federation for the duration of my stay with you, and that includes acting in a diplomatic status. I do still have to clear any potential agreements or treaties with Moscow, but given how fruitful our mutual talks in the capital were, I highly doubt that there will be any opposition when I make the request to my superiors."

Cagalli smiled. "That's reassuring. A security pact between Orb and the Eurasian Federation would go a long way towards comforting my people."

"There's also the distinct possibility of a more friendly government taking power in North America should the resistance's ambitions be realized," Eric added, "Admittedly, that's more of a long-term prospect. For offers that can be made and sealed in the here-and-now, Moscow's currently our best and most realistic option."

"Hate to throw cold water onto things," Shemei chimed in, "but all that's a moot point if we fail to oust Unato and his lackeys."

"About that," said Natarle, "how much of a role should we as Terminal really be playing here? I'm not saying that we should have no involvement at all beyond simply transporting Cagalli back to Orb, but I think it'd be best if this appears to be an organic uprising rather than a staged ouster. The best way for Cagalli to maintain legitimacy is for her restoration to be seen as the will of Orb's people, or at least the rank and file of the country's military and civil service."

Murrue's brow furrowed. "Natarle raised a valid point. While I want us to do all we can to support your restoration, Cagalli, we do need to walk a fine line here. If our involvement is too overt, Terminal might be seen as nothing more than your puppet-masters, much as the Atlantic Federation is for Unato. Orb cannot be seen as simply trading one proxy ruler for another; it would completely undermine any faith in your government."

Cagalli leaned forward and rubbed her forehead. "That's true, but… I don't know how we're supposed to pull that off. Damn it, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought…"

Kira reached over to place a calming hand on her back. "We'll figure this out. We always do."

Cagalli looked over at him and smiled. "Yeah… you're right."

"It might not be as hard as you think," Eric remarked, "From what Kisaka and Erica have been passing along, we've got a ton of contacts within the civil service and military to work with here, not to mention Morgenroete's war chest if we need to grease any wheels."

Cagalli grimaced. "Bribery? It's not really going to come to that, is it?"

"For the most part, no," Eric reassured her, "There'd be too much risk of word getting out and a scandal ensuing; a bought restoration would lack legitimacy in the public's eyes. That being said, you never know when it might be for the best to slip some cash to a guard or civil servant to convince them to look the other way. Money equals access, and it can open doors in a much cleaner manner than bullets."

Cagalli took a deep breath. "I'd rather avoid it altogether. If it's needed to sway a minor player or two, that's one thing. Beyond that, though…"

"If it has to go beyond that in the first place, then we're really in trouble," Eric interjected, "It would mean that support's not as solid as we've been led to believe. At that point, a restoration's probably doomed anyway. This is just one tool in our arsenal, one that we can use in niche circumstances; we're not going to be relying on it."

Cagalli's eyes narrowed as she looked at the screen. "I'll be holding you to that."

"Putting aside any unsavory methods we might have to employ, we really do need to take a step back and determine Terminal's role in the overall plan," Murrue chimed in, "If at all possible, it's best that we operate in a behind-the-scenes role. Helping the other players move into position, quietly removing obstacles or threats; that sort of thing."

"The biggest obstacle is going to be Unato himself and his loyalists," Heero noted, "We need to isolate and neutralize them quickly and quietly. Above all, they must be prevented from fleeing the country. If they escape abroad, they'll almost certainly go to the Atlantic Federation, and I imagine LOGOS will seek to reinstall them as puppet rulers. It might not happen right away given the state of their Pacific Fleet, but it's a move they would make sooner or later."

Duo rubbed his hands together and grinned mischievously. "That sounds like something we can pull off!"

"Right up our alley," Trowa confirmed, "If we can get access to intel on Unato's security arrangements, it'd make the job easier."

"I'm sure one of our contacts can get us the data we need," said Eric.

Cagalli looked nervous. "Heero… when you say 'neutralize', what exactly does that entail?"

"What do you want it to entail?" Heero asked.

"Ideally, detainment," Cagalli answered, "I want him out of the way and cut off from his supporters in the short term. Long term… well, if we can dig into his dealings with the Atlantic Federation, I'm sure that we'll find something we can use against him in court."

"And if that evidence isn't forthcoming?" asked Quatre, "A man like Unato will almost certainly have taken efforts to cover his tracks."

"Quatre's right," Trowa chimed in, "Even if we're able to detain and isolate him, he'll likely have any devices within his household scrubbed of data. Maybe we can get his associates to squeal with plea deals, but we shouldn't bet the farm on it."

Heero's brow furrowed in thought. "Evidence on the Orb side of things might be hard to come by… but we're not limited to that anymore. We have friends in North America who can dig into the matter on the Atlantic Federation's turf."

Major Gardinier smiled, her mind clearly on the same track as Heero's. "I can forward a request to my superiors for them to contact the resistance. One of the updates I received recently did indicate an ongoing investigation into the ties that LOGOS's leadership, including the late Azrael, has with various political and financial figures. It wouldn't surprise me if they're already digging into connections between LOGOS or Blue Cosmos and the Seirans, but it would still be a good idea to make sure they're pointed in that specific direction. If we're lucky, they may already be in possession of evidence that we can use."

"We can only hope," said Murrue.

"What sort of armed opposition might we be dealing with here?" asked Natarle, "Unato's got to have some muscle that's loyal to him if he can't count on the regular military."

"From what I've been able to gather, some PMCs have been hired by the Seirans since they brought Orb into the Earth Alliance," Eric answered, "None of them can field elites like Desperado or ZAFT's Galm Team, and they can't operate on the same scale as the resistance's Sicario mercs, but they could still prove to be problematic. Reports indicate that they're mainly operating to help with internal security, and they seem to be working with a light touch; no major deployments of heavy armament in urban centers or anything of that sort. They appear to be acting as a supplement to Orb's police forces, likely with an eye towards quelling any dissent against the partnership with the Atlantic Federation. If what I'm reading is to be believed, there's no small amount of friction between the hired goons and Orb's national police."

"Which gives us another pool of allies to draw on," Shemei remarked, "If native law enforcement's not happy with the contractors, we should take advantage of that."

"That's the plan," Eric confirmed, "The PMCs do have heavier weapons, including mobile suits, but those are mostly deployed along the coast or on Orb's outer islands as sentries and first contact units. There is an exception; Unato appears to have a squad of them protecting his countryside estate."

Cagalli scowled. "That's no surprise. Of course, he's going to protect his mansion. It's a place for him to run if things get too hot to handle in the government district."

"If they're not on the level of Desperado or Galm, then dealing with them won't be a problem," said Duo with a sly smirk, "Just let me and the Wraiths pull a stealth strike on them, and presto; no more merc suits!"

"My girls would be down for that," Shemei cheerfully added.

Murrue smiled. "You'd be ideal for it. We'll hold Duo and the Wraiths in reserve for that operation. Our non-stealth units could take care of the PMC mobile suits deployed for coastal defense, though we should hold back on that unless absolutely necessary. It'd be far cleaner to get the PMCs' commanders to order a stand-down, and they might do that when their patron falls. After all, garden variety mercs won't fight without a paycheck, right?"

"Depends on who's writing the checks," said Heero as his eyes narrowed, "If Unato's truly the one paying, then that logic should hold. If their paymasters are from outside Orb, though, it might be a problem. Eric, I know you said that the Seirans were the ones who hired them, but are we completely certain of that? Unato's basically a political front for Atlantic Federation influence within the Orb Union; no reason why he can't be acting as a shell entity for their funding, too."

"That's a fair point," Eric conceded, "I'll see if our friends in the Orb government can do some further digging. Might be another item to tack onto our request list for the North American resistance, too."

"I'll make sure they get it," Major Gardinier chimed in.

"Orb's geography presents a potential problem in dealing with the mercenaries should they decide to put up a fight," Murrue noted, "Depending on how spread out the PMCs are amongst the outer islands, Terminal might not be able to deal with them all in a timely manner. I suppose we could always call upon the regular military, but having them fire on units that they're officially supposed to be allied with would look like civil war and could cause both civilians and outside observers to panic. We need a way to neutralize them quickly if their bosses, whether they be in Orb or outside it, can't get them to stand down."

"The North American resistance might have a solution," Major Gardinier offered, "The organization that they've contracted with, Sicario, has forces operating in the Pacific. Their assets in the region include three carriers. The mobile suits and fighters operating off those ships would be invaluable for clearing out the hostile mercs should things go south."

"Then pass along word to the resistance that we need Sicario's carriers to begin moving towards Orb," Murrue ordered, "We'll need them on standby for when the operation begins. If Sicario is as disciplined and professional as their performance in Operation: Merlin indicates, then they will be a great asset in neutralizing Unato and LOGOS's mercs."

Major Gardinier inclined her head. "Consider it done."

"The Chimaera and her mobile suits may also prove useful in that regard," Natarle added, "Although they're operating under Terminal transponder codes now, that ship's involvement with Terminal isn't exactly common knowledge. They only engaged ZAFT's forces beneath the surface, and I don't think they actually got a positive ID on her. Might be a good idea to put her crew and suits on merc elimination duty alongside Sicario should the need arise."

Murrue nodded. "I concur. Major Gardinier?"

The Eurasian Federation officer smiled. "I'll make sure the order's passed along."

"It won't be enough to neutralize mercenaries or any other armed allies that Unato has at his disposal," said Quatre, "If we're going to pull this off, we need to make sure that Cagalli can get her message out both during and after Unato's ouster. The people will need to hear directly from their leader. It's important to communicate clearly with them about what's happened and why so that they can be given cause to rally behind the restoration."

"That means making sure the media's sympathetic to our cause," Trowa added, "How much of a problem might they pose?"

"Most of the domestic outlets have been fairly favorable to Cagalli and Lord Uzumi in the past," Eric replied, "but the Seirans do have some allied mouthpieces of their own. Orb fortunately has strict controls and regulations regarding media ownership, which means the major propaganda outlets funded by the Atlantic Federation oligarchs and elsewhere haven't been able to find much purchase here. Unato was probably planning on changing that down the line to solidify his hold on power, but with the disasters his family's faced in the war he's been in perpetual damage control mode, so he hasn't had time to make such a move with the media yet."

"We should make a list of the reporters and outlets that have been most favorable to Cagalli and her family in the past," Murrue suggested, "I'm not a huge fan of the spin game, but it's important to make sure there are people telling our story in a way that allows for effective pushback against the hyperbole and lies that Unato and his backers used to take power in the first place."

Major Gardinier scratched her chin. "If I recall correctly, I believe that the Eurasian Federation's own Earth Sphere News Network, or ESNN, maintains a branch office in the Orb Union. I'm not sure how they've fared since Moscow's official announcement of our secession from the Earth Alliance, though. Still, it couldn't hurt to check up on them. They would be a useful outlet for garnering support from the broader world."

"I'll have our network back home snoop around," said Eric, "If we can make contact with them and get their bureau chief on-side, so much the better."

"Capturing public opinion for our side is all well and good," Murrue mused aloud, "but aren't we leaving something out here? Orb might have a representative legislature, but executive power lies with the noble families. We need to make sure that those outside the Seiran family will either back us or stay out of the way."

Duo groaned. "Great, we've got aristocratic politics to deal with now. Like those weren't a big enough pain in the ass back where we came from…"

Major Gardinier eyed him in curiosity. "Where exactly did you and your friends come from, Monsieur Maxwell? I can't recall any intel on your or your fellow Gundam pilots mentioning a homeland of any sort."

"That's classified," Trowa quickly cut in.

Major Gardinier raised an eyebrow as she looked at Heero. "Is it?"

"It is," Heero answered in a tone that offered no room for argument.

Sibylle wisely decided not to press the matter. "Very well, then."

"Getting back to the topic at hand," said Cagalli, "regarding the other noble houses, they might not be as big of an obstacle as you think. Apart from mine and the Seirans, the most powerful of the lot is the Sahaku family. They haven't always gotten along with the Athha family, but they like the Seirans even less. The only way Unato could've gotten them to stand aside while he and Yuna pulled off their shadow coup against me would've been to guarantee that their holdings remained untouched. With the Atlantic Federation seeking to use Orb as a puppet state, there's no way that the likes of Blue Cosmos and LOGOS would allow an independent noble family to operate outside their control for long. The Sahaku family is quite prideful, and they're smart enough to recognize which way the wind is blowing. If we can get a message to them ahead of time and promise to respect their holdings, I think they'll stand aside."

"What about the other aristocrats?" asked Heero, "Could any of them cause trouble?"

Cagalli's brow furrowed in thought for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. Most of them are relatively minor, and while the Athha family has always tried to keep good relations with them, the Seirans love throwing their weight around and tend to alienate those that they consider as 'lesser'. Take the Kiou family, for example. Their influence is supposed to be over the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but Unato and Yuna stepped all over them to secure an alliance with the Atlantic Federation. The Kiou family would not have taken kindly to that. The rest of the aristocracy would be in a similar position."

'Then as long as we promise them that their positions will be respected under your rule, they should back us?" Murrue surmised.

Cagalli nodded. "At the very least, they won't interfere with our plans. Eric, if you can put me in touch with representatives of the other noble families before our operation begins, I should be able to ease any of their concerns."

"Should be able to arrange that with our domestic contact network," Eric confirmed, "I'll start laying the groundwork this evening."

"That pretty much covers any major potential obstacles within Orb itself," said Heero, "but there's an elephant lurking just outside the room here; ZAFT. How do we play things with them? They have enough firepower in the region to make themselves a serious spoiler if they decide to get involved."

"They're definitely the bigger local threat than the Atlantic Federation," Natarle concurred, "ZAFT's fleet out of Carpentaria hasn't suffered anything approaching the losses sustained by the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet, and Orb is still legally at war with them. Any sign of instability within the country might be perceived as a window to attack."

"I don't think they're an immediate risk," Eric countered, "Carpentaria may hold major fleet elements, but it would still take time for them to organize for a concerted assault on Orb. Given the quick timetable we're operating under, we should have Orb's government fully in Cagalli's hands before ZAFT can mobilize an intervention force."

"We still shouldn't discount them," Heero pushed back, "There's always the chance for something to go wrong."

"We need to monitor their local forces," Quatre chimed in, "As long as we're aware of a potential mobilization, we could at least make a rapid response with our Gundams. We can't take on Carpentaria's entire fleet, but we can definitely give them a bloody nose. That might be enough to force a withdrawal and buy us time to stabilize the situation in Orb."

"Let's keep that option as a last resort," said Murrue, "I know Terminal's in a state of war with ZAFT now, as is Orb, but we should still avoid any unnecessary combat on with them."

"Assuming we get Cagalli back into power quickly," Trowa interjected, "could she possibly negotiate a ceasefire with ZAFT? Orb's only direct combat with ZAFT in this war was at the Dardanelles, and that ended in a decisive defeat for the First Fleet."

"Thanks more to us than ZAFT," Duo noted.

"My point still stands," said Trowa, "Orb and ZAFT haven't had too many engagements outside of that fight; there's not as much bad blood built up between them as there is between ZAFT and the Earth Alliance or ZAFT and us now. If Orb can offer a truce with ZAFT, even a temporary one, they might be tempted to take it. It would remove, or at least lessen, the threat they face in the Pacific and allow them to redeploy more of their naval assets against the rest of the Earth Alliance. Cagalli pulling Orb out of the Alliance offers legitimate grounds for both sides to seek a ceasefire, and there are obvious benefits to taking it."

"Would they really take it, though?" Quatre asked, "Cagalli's well-known as an associate of the old Three Ships Alliance, meaning she's also recognized as being affiliated with Terminal. ZAFT is now at war with that organization, so would they honestly accept a ceasefire with Orb knowing that its leader backs Terminal?"

"Quatre's right," said Natarle, "I can't see ZAFT going for that. Not after the beating we just gave them. They can even point to the fact that Cagalli was fighting with us against them; the Strike Rouge was an active combatant, after all, and they'll have surely recognized the unit from their underwater mobile suits' transmitted battle data."

"Then our only real hope for keeping ZAFT at bay is deterrence," Heero argued, "We have to demonstrate that taking on Orb under Cagalli's rule will come with too high of a price tag."

Murrue nodded. "I think you're correct, Heero. Terminal, along with Orb's military, will have to demonstrate a united front. It's the best way to show ZAFT who they'd be messing with if they attacked. If we have the Archangel show up with Orb naval units in areas that will be easily monitored by ZAFT, that should be ample evidence to them of our support for Cagalli's government. They might still come after us and Orb, but they'll at least have to weigh the costs before making such an effort, and it might take them longer to mobilize a force as a result."

"Moscow can lend a hand there," Major Gardinier chimed in, "The Eurasian Federation can make it abundantly clear that any new security pact we enter into with Orb is meant for more than just deterring Atlantic Federation aggression; by announcing a blanket guarantee, that would demonstrate quite blatantly to ZAFT that we'd consider an attack by them on the Orb Union to be an equal offense as if the Atlantic Federation were the ones striking, and that our forces in the Pacific would respond accordingly."

"Hopefully that will be enough," said Kira.

Cagalli nodded. "In the end, I guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. It's all academic until we actually show up in Orb, anyway. Let' s make sure we've got the domestic part of this plan worked out first. Once all those ducks are in order, we can focus on dealing with outside troublemakers."

"Works for me," Heero replied.

"Then let's hammer things out," said Murrue, "We may have a lot of travel time ahead of us, but it's going to pass by all too quickly."

….

December 14th, C.E. 73

As Stella dozed in her bed after her latest physical therapy session, Shinn sat beside her as he had so many times before. His gaze wasn't on her this time, though. Instead, it was focused on a tablet that he'd been provided by Dr. Claudia Monroe, the ship's counselor. When Stella was awake, Shinn and Claudia had used it to help with some of her tests, mostly to see which images were safe for her to see and which had the potential to trigger some dormant part of her Extended programming, if that was still possible at this point. Fortunately, there had been no serious episodes, though they'd wisely decided to minimize Stella's exposure to anything particularly graphic.

Those weren't the sort of images on the tablet now, though. At Shinn's request, Cagalli had forwarded the list of Morgenroete properties that she'd shown him before the Moscow battle to the tablet. At present, he was gazing at a beachside house that had been stuck in his mind ever since It wasn't the largest of the properties included in Cagalli's housing and aid offer by a long shot; a simple two-story dwelling, with a good chunk of the first story taken up by the garage. However, its position on the beach, flanked by trees with great fanlike leaves and with a back deck on the second story providing a wonderful view of the ocean and a back door on the first floor granting direct access to that sandy paradise, turned it into an idyllic tropical paradise.

"Home shopping already?" asked a familiar male voice from behind him, "I can appreciate the optimism, but we're hardly through this war just yet."

Shinn nearly jumped out of his chair before looking over his shoulder and seeing Heero standing behind him. "Oh, hey, Heero. Uhm… it's not really 'shopping' when the property's offered for free, right?"

"I suppose not," Heero conceded as he leaned down and studied the image on the screen, "Cagalli mentioned her aid package for you and Stella to me. I figured she had some nice home options lined up for you guys. Thinking about going with this one?"

"Do you think I should?" asked Shinn.

"That's entirely your call to make," Heero replied, "Well, yours and Stella's. I'm not here to sway you towards one option or another."

Shinn then saw a very small smile creep onto his face. "That being said, I think you could definitely do worse than that one."

Shinn smiled as well as his gaze turned back to the picture. "Yeah. Still… I know Cagalli's offer comes with no strings attached, but I still feel a bit guilty about being given the chance to live at a place like this for free. If I'm going to be looking after Stella there, shouldn't I be working? Get my own stream of income in case something happens?"

"Once you two are fully settled in and Stella can be reasonably left unsupervised for extended time periods, that might not be a bad idea," Heero concurred, "Any thoughts as to what kind of job you'd take?"

Shinn sighed as his shoulders slumped. "Not a clue. All I'm really good for is flying, and not the commercial type. Outside of that… I don't know where to start."

"Your thinking's too limited," Heero chided him, "Your piloting skills are perfect for a transition to civilian life, and Orb has a good field for it."

Shinn eyed him skeptically. "You're not suggesting I join the Orb military, are you? Look, I've been trying to take a different view when it comes to Cagalli and my old country, but I'm not ready to serve their armed forces. Feels like a bit too much after what happened back then."

Heero shook his head. "That's not what I had in mind; I said 'civilian life', remember? Shinn, seeing as you're from Orb and I'm a transplant, I'm rather disappointed that I've thought of this before you."

Shinn raised an eyebrow. "Thought of what? Spit it out already."

"Orb has far more than its main islands," Heero elaborated, "It has multiple chains of smaller islands scattered about its territorial waters. They're not big enough to support major population centers, but many of them are quite scenic and therefor popular tourist attractions. You should know all this, Shinn."

"I do," Shinn huffed, "I just don't see how my military skills would help me work in the tourist sector."

Heero folded his arms. "What are the two ways that tourists are typically taken to those islands?"

"Boat and seaplane," Shinn answered, "What about it?"

Heero's eyes narrowed, and the irritated look he gave Shinn struck him as the sort that a teacher might give a student who'd just screwed up a question with a very obvious answer. "Which one of those flies, Shinn?"

Shinn blinked several times as he belatedly got the message. "Wait, that's what you think I should do? Fly a bunch of tourists around on a seaplane?"

"There are multiple established companies in that field, and it's a thriving industry during peacetime," Heero answered, "I would know; some of my friends and I have chartered those flights for occasional getaways in the lull between this war and the last one. They're always scouting for qualified pilots, and you definitely have the skills to meet their needs. The work pays quite well; more than enough to support you and Stella should you desire a separate income stream from Orb and Morgenroete's charity."

Shinn was skeptical. "I don't know… isn't there a whole lot more to that sort of job than just piloting? Hospitality, customer service and all that jazz? Not really sure that I'd be the best fit for that."

Heero shrugged. "Depends on how big the plane you're flying is. On the really small ones, yeah, the pilot runs the whole show. For larger ones, though, they've usually got staff that'll take care of the passengers' needs and let the pilot focus on flying. If it doesn't sound like a field you'd want to go into, you could always enter emergency services instead. Medical evacuation pilots are a hot commodity in an island nation. I bet you could handle a medevac chopper just as well as you do a mobile suit or airplane."

"I'll think it over," Shinn replied while studying Heero carefully, "You didn't come down here just to give me career counseling, did you?"

Heero shook his head before looking at Stella. "No, I didn't. She's not going to wake up anytime soon, is she?"

Shinn smiled. "She just went to sleep a bit ago. I think she'll be out of it for at least a few hours."

Heero gestured towards the exit. "Then let's take this over to the officers' lounge so we don't disturb her."

Shinn was curious but dutifully followed Heero out of the sickbay. "What exactly is going on?"

"You know what direction we're heading in, right?" asked Heero as he led him through the ship's corridors.

Shinn took a deep breath. "East… towards Orb."

Heero nodded. "That's right. It was only a matter of time before we returned, and that time is now."

"So, you're going to help Cagalli take her country back," Shinn surmised, "Is that what the big meetings you've been going to lately are about?"

"Yeah," Heero confirmed, "Turns out planning a joint political-military operation is a lot more difficult than a strictly military one. Go figure, right?"

Shinn couldn't help but chuckle. "Politics… always a pain in the ass."

"Don't need to tell me twice," said Heero as they entered the officers' lounge, "It's an unfortunate necessity of a world where humanity is dominant, but that doesn't make it any less of a headache."

"Glad I don't have to deal with any of that," Shinn replied before giving Heero a sympathetic look, "Sounds like you're not so lucky, though."

Heero shrugged. "It can't be helped."

Shinn looked around the room and saw that it was empty. "I get the feeling you didn't drag me over here to vent about political shenanigans. What's up?"

"As you noted earlier, we're heading towards Orb," said Heero as the two of them sat down on a sofa off to one side of the lounge, "Our mission is to oust Unato Seiran and his lackeys so Cagalli can return to power. Once that's accomplished, Orb will withdraw from the Earth Alliance. In all likelihood, the Atlantic Federation's response will be a declaration of war."

"What about ZAFT?" asked Shinn.

"We're not sure about them," Heero answered, "Given the beating that Terminal gave them earlier, combined with the fact that we're well known as being associated with Cagalli, it's possible that ZAFT could launch an attack. We've got some ideas for deterring or at least delaying an offensive from them, but there are no guarantees here."

"Is that why you brought me here?" Shinn pressed, "You want to know if I can still fight them?"

Heero shook his head. "I've asked you that enough by now, and you've already more than given your answer and proven that you can back it up. No, the reason I brought you here is because I want to know how you feel about returning to Orb… and how you'd feel about fighting alongside them. Whether it's against the Atlantic Federation or ZAFT, odds are we'll be facing at least one and probably both of the major powers at some point after Cagalli's reclaimed power."

Shinn took a deep breath. "I… I don't know. I could barely stand it back when the Minerva was there for a bit before the war broke out. I mean, I went ashore, saw a few things, but I didn't exactly stick around long. As for fighting alongside Orb forces…"

"I know it's a big ask," said Heero, "Especially given your experience with the country."

Shinn sighed. "Yeah. I… I've been trying to work on that. Talking with Cagalli and Kira, Cagalli offering to help take care of Stella… it's all helped, but still… I know now that they're not the ones really responsible for my family's death. It's just…"

"Still hard to shake off what you once felt?" Heero finished for him.

Shinn nodded. "Pretty much. I promise, I'm trying, I really am."

"And I believe you," Heero reassured him, "This was never going to be an overnight process. Your grief became intermingled with a grudge towards Cagalli and Kira, one that had years to fester. It's difficult to untangle that. I would say you're actually doing pretty well on that front. You've come a very long way in a relatively short time span."

Shinn smiled. "Thanks."

Heero's eyes narrowed. "All that being said, I need to know if you can go further. I'm not asking you to embrace fighting alongside Orb's forces and helping Cagalli take back her country. I am asking you to tolerate it, though. If we're to pull through this war with a shot at securing lasting peace, a free Orb under Cagalli is going to be crucial. Not only is she the country's legitimate ruler, but she carries with her the legacy of Lord Uzumi Nara Athha's dream; an Orb that serves as a shelter for those fleeing persecution, and a beacon for equality and peaceful coexistence. Having it back under a ruler who embodies those ideals will lend greater weight to whatever role Orb eventually plays in the peace talks. It lends a certain moral authority, if you will."

Shinn shrugged. "If you say so. Sounds like more politics to me."

"That's because it is," Heero replied, "but it's not what I care about at the moment. Terminal is allied with Cagalli, which means we're going to be fighting on behalf of Orb, both to restore its rightful ruler and defend her from whichever outside power decides to have a go. Can you accept fighting to protect the nation that you feel failed your family two years ago?"

Shinn closed his eyes for several long seconds. Had Heero asked this of Shinn mere weeks ago, he would've immediately shot him down. Now, though, with all he'd seen and learned in such a short amount of time, the answer didn't come so easily.

"I… I can't simply forgive and forget, Heero," Shinn eventually said when he opened his eyes.

"And I'm not asking you to," Heero countered, "Not the latter, certainly. Not after what you suffered. The former… perhaps at some point, but that's for you to determine, not me. It's not about either of those things now, though."

Shinn slowly nodded. "No, it's not. It's not about the past… but the future. It's about… moving forward. Orb didn't protect my family… but there are countless families within Orb that still need to be protected. They deserve a future of their own, one that the Atlantic Federation and ZAFT don't dictate to them. And Stella… her future's in Orb, too."

"That's a good way to look at it," said Heero.

Shinn could not help but smile. "A better way to look at it than I might've not too long ago."

"Shows how much you've grown," Heero pointed out.

"I guess so," Shinn conceded, "I'm still not thrilled about this… but I'll help you guys, Heero. If it means giving Stella a future and bringing us one step closer to peace, then I'm in."

"Glad to hear it," Heero replied before standing up and gesturing towards the exit, "You said Stella's going to be out of it for a few hours, so you want to come down to the hangar? Kira's helping me work up a simulation for engaging Atlantic Federation Pacific Fleet task forces."

"Sure," said Shinn as he rose, "but I thought you guys basically wiped out the Pacific Fleet already. You hit them at sea and in port at Pearl Harbor and San Diego, right? And we pretty much wrecked the task force that tried to take us down when we left Orb. The Pacific Fleet can't have that much left to throw at us by now."

"It's true that they suffered heavy casualties on them at the start of the war," Heero remarked, "and us attacking their main naval bases in the Pacific forced the Atlantic Federation to pull back significant assets to shore up defenses, but they still have some units roaming around. Not enough to launch a successful invasion of Orb without substantial reinforcements, but they could still cause trouble. We want to be ready if they decide to raise their ugly heads."

Shinn nodded. "Good point. Let's get to it, then."

….

December 15th, C.E. 73

Wiping the sweat from her brow as the exercise came to an end, Lan Zhao leaned back in her chair for a few minutes to catch her breath before popping open the hatch. Before she could even step out, a hand thrust into the cockpit with a bottle of water. Lan smiled as she accepted it before leaning forward to see who had brought it; Quatre.

"Did you teleport over here?" she asked with a chuckle, "Seriously, how the hell did you get over here so fast?"

"My Gundam's right next to yours, remember?" Quatre pointed out.

"Even so…" Lan murmured before taking a long gulp from the bottle, "You're not even the least bit winded after that session? That was, what, a good five hours of nonstop combat?"

"Six, actually," Quatre corrected with an impish smile, "but who's counting, right?"

Lan rolled her eyes. "Right."

Unlike the previous day, when their simulator exercises had focused on dealing with a hypothetical Atlantic Federation naval attack, the training session today had revolved around intercepting a ZAFT fleet inbound from Carpentaria to Orb. Given ZAFT's much greater naval strength in the region relative to that of the Atlantic Federation, they had been given a much larger force in the exercise compared to what Terminal's pilots had fought against in the prior simulations, and the goal had simply been to hold the line for a set amount of time. Lan and the others had done well, but they'd definitely worked for it.

And that's just a simulation, she reminded herself, ZAFT will hit us a lot harder when we face them for real.

Lan was no stranger to prolonged engagements. She and her friends had survived the brutal Second Battle of Jachin Due, after all, and that was hardly the only extended clash they'd experienced during the First Bloody Valentine War. Lan liked to think that her endurance was more than a cut or two above that of the average pilot, yet even she could feel the strain of a long slugfest after a while. Quatre, by contrast, did not seem even the least bit tired.

"You sure you're a Natural?" Lan asked as Quatre helped her out of the cockpit, "Did you even break a sweat back there?"

Quatre shrugged. "I was trained to fight for prolonged periods of time without any support. All of us Gundam pilots were."

"Must've been some brutal training if a session like this doesn't even phase you," Lan remarked.

Quatre nodded, a somewhat nostalgic tone coming to his voice. "Oh, you have no idea. My mentor, Professor H, was a relatively nice guy, but he didn't pull any punches when it came to training me."

Lan smiled. "Well, given that you guys were taking on the entire world, he probably felt that he had to go all out with you. Since you survived and are here with me now, I'd say he succeeded. Bet he's awfully proud of you."

Quatre smiled in return, but the melancholy in his eyes was impossible to miss. "I'd like to hope so. Wherever his soul's gone to rest now… I hope he can see that I'm still putting the machine he built for me to good use."

Lan placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm sure he can. Next time we get our hands on some booze, let's pour one out for him, okay? His Gundam, and his greatest student, saved one world and are now fighting to save another. I think the least I owe him is a toast, and I'd like it to be with you. What do you say?"

"I'd like that," Quatre said softly as he met her gaze, "and I think he would, too."

It was so easy these days for Lan to find herself captivated by the Desert Prince's blue eyes. They almost always seemed to have a mix of optimism and sorrow warring within them. He'd seen the worst that humanity had to offer, yet he still held hope for the future and sought to make things better. His eyes reflected that; mindful of the darkness, yet still seeking the light.

Plus, they were just really damn pretty.

Down, girl, she told herself, I think jumping him right after the exercise is a bit premature. At least take him out to dinner first.

Her growling stomach emphasized that sentiment, and Lan gave Quatre a sheepish smile. "Speaking of drinks, what do you say we grab one and a bite to eat? Might not be allowed alcohol while we're out of port, but I'm sure we can get by."

"Sounds good to me," Quatre replied, "That exercise definitely helped me work up an appetite."

The two of them climbed down the access ladder before making their way across the hangar toward the exit. They saw their friends leaving their respective mobile suits as well, waving as the couple passed by. Most of the others would likewise be taking a break, with the exception of Shemei and La Flaga; as the senior pilots aboard the Dominion, they would be heading to the briefing room to conduct a conference call with Heero so they could compare notes and plot out tomorrow's exercises.

Glad I'm not in that position, Lan thought, I'm sure the authority's nice and all, but there's so much more work that comes with it. I'll stick to just being an ace pilot, thank you very much.

"Do you really think a fight like that's coming soon?" Lan asked as they exited the hangar and headed for the mess hall, "A big one against ZAFT's fleet, I mean. I know we wrecked their shit in Operation: Angel's Defiance, and they're probably pretty pissed about that, but it seems like they've got more important things on their plate than us right now. What with the whole Atlantic Federation still trying to torch anyone that isn't allied with them and all that jazz."

Quatre sighed. "If you look at just the big strategic picture, then we shouldn't be considered a top priority target for them. Even with the losses it's taken, the Atlantic Federation's still ZAFT's most powerful enemy by a long shot when it comes to sheer numbers and resources. However, Durandal clearly believes otherwise since he sicced the Minerva and a few task forces on us. Like it or not, he'll almost certainly come at us again sooner or later, and I'm willing to bet that the next force he sends our way will have a lot more firepower than the last one."

"Probably," Lan groaned, "Dealing with that is going to suck hard. Would be nice if they'd just piss the hell off, but I guess that's too much to ask."

Quatre eyed her curiously. "How do you feel about fighting ZAFT? I mean, obviously you're capable of it; the battle with the force hunting us proved that. Still…"

"Does it feel weird to fight against a military that I used to be a part of?" Lan finished for him.

Quatre nodded. "Something along those lines, yeah. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

Lan smiled. "Nah, it's cool. After everything that we've shared with each other, I don't mind something like this. It's not easy, but also not the hardest thing I've ever done."

"Must've been more difficult the first time around," Quatre remarked, "Back in the last war when you first fought against them."

"You're not wrong," Lan confessed, "When we jumped ship with the Clyne Faction and started fighting ZAFT, it definitely took some getting used to. Even if we turned against them for the right reasons… well, I don't think you're supposed to feel good about firing on people who were once your comrades. Still, it had to be done. We couldn't let Patrick Zala and his thugs pull off their genocide campaign."

"Of course," said Quatre, "Knowing what you're fighting against would make the decision easier. What about now, though? ZAFT under Durandal has attacked us and tried to kill Lacus, so we know that they're not to be trusted, but there's still a big difference between that and fighting against a genocide campaign. The Atlantic Federation's openly waging that, but the PLANTs… we're still not sure about what Durandal's really after in this war."

"Would be nice to solve that mystery sooner rather than later," Lan replied, "Hope the investigation that they're running up in space gets us some answers. For right now… well, there's definitely a lot more moral grayness in fighting ZAFT now than there was the last time around. At least the Atlantic Federation's up front about what a bunch of bastards they are."

"True," Quatre conceded, "Obvious evil is always easier to fight than ambiguous evil. We'll just have to trust that our friends up in space are able to crack the mystery before it's too late. Once we have a concrete idea as to what Durandal's agenda is, it'll be easier to consolidate the support of our new allies against him. The Eurasians helped us out with ZAFT's observation satellites during Operation: Angel's Defiance, and the Chimaera engaged them under our banner, but I don't think Moscow will officially back us against Durandal until we can solidly convince them that he's a threat. That means finding evidence, and as of now all we're able to offer them is footage from the attack on Home One. That only tells them that ZAFT was targeting us and Lacus, not what Durandal's ultimate objective is."

"Damn it," Lan hissed, "Durandal's a slippery bastard. Pinning anything on him isn't going to be easy."

"No doubt there," said Quatre as the two of them entered the ship's mess, "We've definitely got our work cut out for us."

The mess was fairly empty and quiet, though Lan was sure it'd fill up soon. When she and Quatre finished dishing up, she took the initiative and led him over to a smaller table in the corner; she wanted her favorite flyboy all too herself tonight.

"You had to deal with some real pieces of work back in your world, right?" Lan asked after they'd each had a few bites, "The government oppressing the colonies… United Earth Sphere Alliance, right? If the name's anything to go by, I'm guessing they weren't all that different from our Earth Alliance."

"Yes and no," Quatre replied, "It's complicated."

Lan smiled. "Seems like everything is when it comes to you Gundam pilots. I'm more than just a pretty face, you know? 'Complicated' has summed up my life for a long time now. Lay it on me; I'm always down for learning about the world you're from."

Quatre returned her smile. "I appreciate that. It's… actually not often that I get to talk about stuff like that with someone. I always feel like I might bore people, especially in my circle; after all, my friends and I lived through that regime, so it's not exactly new for us."

Lan batted her eyelashes at him. "You're many things, Quatre, but boring will never be one of them."

Quatre chuckled, and Lan could've sworn she caught just a hint of red in his face. "I could say the same for you."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me, flyboy," Lan shot back with a pixy-like wink, "Come on, spill the beans. I want me some Gundam pilot world lore, and I want it now!"

Quatre shook his head while smirking in amusement. "Alright, alright. The UESA and the Earth Alliance are similar in that they were both major powers that dominated the Earth, but a key difference is this; the UESA laid claim to all of Earth, while the Earth Alliance still has other nations that is has to contend with. It's a bit of a gross simplification since there were minor nations like the Sanc Kingdom in our Earth's past, but the Alliance crushed those smaller countries thoroughly. Even the revived kingdom that came about during our war unfortunately didn't last too long."

"Sounds like the sort of dominance that the Earth Alliance wishes they had," Lan mused aloud, "The closest they came to it was during the last war, but since they were focused on wiping out Coordinators, they didn't completely conquer the world; there were still independent entities like the Kingdom of Scandinavia around even at the height of the Alliance's power."

Quatre nodded. "Another point I should raise is that the UESA, while a brutal and oppressive regime, wasn't exactly a monolith. Its rule over the colonies was harsh, but towards the end there were leaders within the Alliance who recognized the need for dialogue and reform. Unfortunately, we were tricked into attacking a meeting that they were involved in, and Heero destroyed the shuttle that those leaders most favorable towards diplomatic resolution with the colonies were aboard. By the time we realized what we'd just done, it was too late. Hopes of peace were dead for the time being, and OZ used the chaos to overthrow the UESA during their Operation: Daybreak. The end result was that those who truly ruled the world, the nobles and commercial tycoons who had used the old Alliance as a cover for their activities, became emboldened enough to step out onto the stage and rule in the open."

Lan spent a minute pondering that while eating a bit more of her dinner before speaking. "Those guys that ruled behind the scenes before… I think Heero mentioned them before. The Romefeller Foundation, right? Bunch of aristocrats and businessmen, mostly centered around the global arms trade… a lot like LOGOS, if what we've been hearing about them is anything to go by."

"Yet another parallel between our world and yours," Quatre grimly confirmed, "At least our world was able to topple the old status quo and build something new. When we left our world to come out here, the peace we'd forged was still going strong. I hope that remains the case. So many lives were lost to bring it about."

"Hey, at least your world actually learned from war and tried to put it behind them," Lan pointed out, "We nearly annihilated ourselves two years ago, and look at us now; right back in another global war with our very survival as a species potentially on the line. After Colony humanity is making us humans in the Cosmic Era look pretty damn stupid."

Quatre shook his head and smiled. "I think that's a bit too harsh. In the brief time that I've been in the Cosmic Era, I've seen plenty of people who hold the same ideals that we do back in the After Colony world. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that what we achieved in our world, you all can achieve in yours. We just need to deal with the bastards that brought about this new war, and we need to make sure they're dealt with permanently this time."

Lan grinned as she raised her water bottle. "I'll drink to that!"

The two of them raised their drinks and downed the respective contents before turning their attention back to their food. A few minutes went by in contented silence as they ate before an odd thought struck Lan and she felt compelled to give voice to it.

"Back in your world," she began, "did you guys ever have to deal with people like Durandal? Cagey politicians who put on a good public show but have hidden agendas?"

She watched as Quatre scratched his chin for a moment. "There was one, but… well, to equate him with the likes of Durandal almost seems like an insult to his memory. No offense, but he was leagues beyond anything the Cosmic Era's ever seen, at least to my knowledge. Politicians like Durandal are almost petty in comparison."

Lan rubbed her hands together eagerly. "Oh, now we're getting to the good stuff! Well, don't keep a girl waiting here. Who was this guy?"

"Treize Khushrenada," Quatre answered, "He was the leader of OZ, the military arm of the Romefeller Foundation. Not your typical politician by any stretch of the imagination. Charismatic, dangerously intelligent, a highly skilled warrior and mobile suit pilot… and one hell of an enigma. Honestly, I might not be the best guy to give you the rundown on him. I think Heero and Wufei got a better read on him than I ever did."

Lan shrugged. "Well, Heero's on the Archangel and Wufei's with ZAFT, so they're not going to be much help right now. You're a smart cookie, Quatre; whatever your read on this Treize guy is, I trust it. So, how'd you beat him?"

Quatre sighed. "Well, that's the thing… we didn't."

Lan blinked in confusion. "Say what now?"

"We never outright 'beat' Treize," Quatre reiterated, "We were always one step behind his plans. To give you an example of just how fiendishly clever and dangerous this guy was, he conquered the world twice, Lan. The first was during Operation: Daybreak, when Treize and OZ used our strike against the UESA's leadership to pull off a revolt and take the reins of rule in the Earth Sphere. The second was when he ousted Queen Relena as leader of the World Nation, the predecessor to what our world now calls the Earth Sphere Unified Nation. He did so to combat the threat posed by White Fang, an extremist space colony revolutionary group… and he did it without firing a shot."

Lan whistled. "Damn…"

Quatre chuckled. "Yeah, that was about our reaction, too. Like I said, Treize was on a whole different level compared to most rulers, whether they be from the After Colony world or the Cosmic Era. The only reason he doesn't rule the Earth Sphere Unified Nation now is because he pretty much let us win. Looking back on it now, I'm confident that he even planned his death in that final battle from the beginning. He set the tune, with some help from Zechs Merquise, and the entire world danced to it… including us Gundam pilots. Honestly, I think he understood us better than we did ourselves."

Lan shivered. "Well, that's terrifying. So, we might really be up shit creek here with Durandal then, huh?"

Quatre shook his head and smiled. "I don't think our situation's quite that dire. Durandal's no Treize; I might not have the best read on either of them, but I understand enough to be reasonably certain of that. It doesn't mean that we should take Durandal lightly. That would be a huge mistake. Still, he's not on Treize's level, if only because Treize had already pulled of his first world conquest by this point in the war. Durandal can only call the PLANTs and a few bases on Earth his domain in comparison."

"That's still more than enough resources to make him a threat," Lan pointed out.

"True," Quatre conceded, "but there are more limitations on Durandal's capabilities than Treize had to deal with. Even at his weakest point, that man could count on the backing of countless loyal followers; they fought an entire civil war for him when the Romefeller Foundation put him under house arrest for opposing their Mobile Doll program, just to give you an idea as to how devoted Treize's supporters were to him. I'm sure Durandal's got his loyalists, but I don't think he's the type who can inspire that level of devotion."

Lan sighed. "Maybe, but that doesn't make dealing with Durandal any easier. We still don't even know what he's really after."

"We'll figure it out," Quatre reassured her with a confident smile, "Terminal's got far more resources than we Gundam pilots did during our war, both on Earth and in space. Durandal won't be an easy puzzle to crack, but not an impossible one, either."

Lan couldn't help but smile in return; the Desert Prince's optimism and faith were quite infectious. "Well, seeing as you're still standing and Treize is dead, I guess you won out in the end. I'll take that as a good sign for our cause."

Quatre scratched the back of his neck. "Not sure if I'd call it a win… I think it was more like a convergence of goals. The way Treize and Zechs set the stage for that final battle… they gamed the situation out so we basically had to side with Treize, if only informally. For all that we'd fought against him while he was the leader of OZ, in that last confrontation Treize's forces were acting to protect Earth from White Fang's attempt to devastate it with the battleship Libra. Even if we Gundam pilots had fought for the colonies in the past, it wasn't so they could pose a threat to all life on Earth. With White Fang going to such extremes, though, we had no choice but to stand against them. That put us in the very strange situation of fighting the same enemy as Treize's forces despite our past hostilities. The only one of us that fought against Treize in that last battle was Wufei, and he went after Treize himself rather than his army. Seeing as Treize had beaten him before in a duel, I know Wufei was determined to settle the score. With the way things played out, though… Wufei may have struck the killing blow, but with the way he's behaved ever since that fight, I don't think he really feels like he won."

"Does that have anything to do with why he's fighting for ZAFT against us now?" asked Lan, "Some unresolved issues between him and Treize?"

Quatre shrugged. "Maybe. Only he could say for sure, though."

"Wish he'd get over it already," Lan grumbled, "It sucks to have to worry about finding a Gundam pilot on the other side of the battlefield. All five of you should be on our side here. Wufei siding with ZAFT just because of his personal hangups is a real pain in the ass."

Quatre chuckled. "Can't argue with that! Wufei's always been a stubborn guy; just has to go his own way. I think this is the first time that stubbornness has put him opposite us on the battlefield, though."

"Any chance you guys can talk some sense into him?" asked Lan, "It'd be really nice if you could pull the wool away from his eyes and wake him the hell up. Durandal's clearly just using him for whatever his big secret scheme is."

Quatre sighed. "I hear you, but I don't know if he'd listen to me. Heero's the one he's been after whenever he's met us on the field, so maybe he can get through to him. I'm sure he tried during the last fight, but it clearly didn't go very well."

Lan bit her lip nervously. "If it comes down to it… would he actually try to kill you guys?"

"He wasn't holding back against Heero," Quatre replied, "I might have only seen the fight from a distance, and only bits of it at that, but I know how Wufei's style of combat. He was going all out against Heero, which means he very much was going for the kill. Knowing Heero, he probably went full tilt as well. Neither of those guys half-ass anything. At least Heero can fight him to a standstill. Hopefully that'll buy time in the future for the rest of us to smack some sense into his stubborn head."

Lan took a deep breath. "If you guys can't bring him around… will you kill him?"

Quatre closed his eyes for a very long moment, and when he opened them again his expression was one of grim resignation. "If he gives us no other option… then we will. I really hope it doesn't come down to that. I came out here to save a friend, not put one in the grave. Damn it, Wufei… why didn't I see this coming? I knew he wasn't adjusting well to peace, that he was adrift, but I never imagined he'd turn on us like this. Coming out to a world at war… I should have known he'd dive right into it. Now it could cost us everything."

Lan reached across the table and took his hand. "Hey, this isn't your fault. Wufei's a Gundam pilot, just like you; he should be able to work out his own issues without trying to kill you guys in the process. None of this is on you, Quatre."

Quatre smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Lan."

"Don't mention it," Lan replied, "I know things aren't looking so hot with Wufei right now, but there's still a chance to set him straight. Whether it's you, Heero, or someone else that does it, isn't something we should be worrying about right now. Got enough on our plates as it is."

"No kidding," said Quatre, taking a few more bites of his meal before continuing, "I think this is the first time I've ever been involved in planning a coup. Although, seeing as we're working to restore Orb's rightful ruler to power… would that make it a reverse-coup?"

Lan shrugged. "Beats me. Pris is more of a political junkie than I am, so I bet she'd know the proper term for it."

"I might ask her later, then," Quatre remarked, "Regardless, planning it all out is a hell of a lot more complicated than the usual mission prep. My head's spinning just trying to keep track of all the moving parts involved."

"Glad I'm just a grunt in the operation," said Lan, "Much easier to just fly and shoot."

Quatre chuckled. "I can relate. Hopefully, there won't be too much of that involved here. If we get into a fight with anyone other than the mercs Unato's got shoring up his power base, then something went very wrong somewhere."

Lan raised her water bottle. "To a successful reverse-coup?"

Quatre laughed before tapping his drink against hers. "Yes!"

The two of them drank before Lan sighed. "Getting Cagalli back in power's the easy part. We've still got a whole damn war to resolve after that. Having her back in charge means we'll have the full backing of Orb, which'll definitely help, but even after that… things aren't exactly looking pretty."

Quatre nodded soberly. "You're not wrong. We've got some pretty powerful allies now compared to when the war started, but the Atlantic Federation and ZAFT still outnumber and outgun us by a wide margin. The only thing playing in our favor is that both of them are still at war with each other. They hate each other far too much to put aside their differences and gang up on us."

"Let's hope things stay that way," said Lan, "If they ever declare a truce so they can take us on together, then we're screwed."

"No argument there," Quatre concurred.

They spent the next few minutes eating and drinking in thoughtful silence before Lan spoke again. "Quatre… do you really think we can do this? End the war, restore peace to the world, and make sure a shitshow like this doesn't happen again? It all seems so… beyond us right now. Especially that last bit."

Quatre smiled. "I know things look tough right now, and that's because they are. The work ahead of us is nothing to take lightly, but I believe we absolutely can do this."

Lan could not help but smile as well, though her doubts remained. "Tell me… where do you get that confidence from? Wouldn't mind having some of it for myself right about now."

"I get it from spending time with people like you," Quatre answered, this time being the one to reach across the table and take her hand, "Everyone I've met in Terminal shows the exact same dedication to securing peace as those who fought alongside us during the final campaign of our war. Our worlds might be on different paths right now, but the people in them are more alike than you realize, and that gives me hope. There is light at the end of this tunnel, Lan, and not the light of an oncoming train."

Lan sighed wistfully as she gazed into the pair of optimistic beacons that were her companion's beautiful blue eyes. "Well, if you can believe that, then so can I. At the very least… I can believe in you."

For now…

…that's enough.

….

As the screen on his desktop went black, Durandal leaned back in his chair and let out a weary exhalation. Long hours of conference calls were par for the course when it came to being PLANT Supreme Council Chairman, and while Durandal was used to them by now, they could still be draining experiences. He never let on to his audience, of course; any experienced politician knew how to always keep that veneer of calm and control up even if they were about to keel over from exhaustion.

"Perhaps I should return to the capital soon," he murmured as he rubbed his brow, trying to fight off fatigue, "If only so I can take these meetings in person and synch my sleep schedule back up on PLANT local time. Goodness, the time difference down here is a real bother…"

Thankfully, his duties for today were now concluded. Well, his official ones were, at least. Even when he was off the clock, Durandal's mind was always abuzz. He would take at the end of each workday for a period of private contemplation, sifting through the day or week's events, soring everything out in his mid in preparation for the following day's work. With all that had unfolded over the past few weeks, there was certainly much for him to contemplate, now more than ever.

Standing up, he walked over to towards a much comfier chair that was set alongside a coffee table off to the side of his office. Taking a seat there, Durandal closed his eyes. His temporary office in Gibraltar vanished and was soon replaced by a different one in the mind's eye of Durandal. Not the Supreme Council Chairman's office back in Aprilius One, but a much humbler room. It was relatively spartan, consisting of little more than a desk, a side table with chairs around it, a bookshelf and a few file cabinets, and a small window providing a modest but charming view of a park in downtown Aprilius One. On the table was a chess board, with Durandal sitting on the black side of the board. Both black and white pieces were scattered about the board, evidence of a game that had been left unfinished.

"Well, now… it's been quite some time since we last met here. Shall we pick up where we previously left off?"

The voice was not Durandal's, and it did not come from his Gibraltar office. It came from his mind, and it was the voice of an old friend… one that had haunted Durandal's mind for the past two years. Across the table from him, a man materialized in the previously empty chair. A man in a white ZAFT Commander's uniform, with long blond hair…

…and a pale mask.

Despite the feelings of melancholy and despair that memories of his old friend inevitably, conjured, Durandal could not help but smile. Rau Le Creuset was long dead, yet Durandal could recall every detail of the man perfectly, and that went beyond his physical appearance. The two of them had understood each other despite their opposing outlooks on humanity, and that made Creuset an invaluable debate partner even in death. Knowing him so well, Durandal could create a simulacrum of Creuset in his mind, one that could prod and respond just as the real one would. It made for a vital thought exercise program, where Durandal could converse in his head with perhaps the only other intellect in the Earth Sphere that he considered equal to his own…

…regardless of how vehemently he opposed his peer's conclusion on what humanity deserved as its fate.

"Yes, let's," Durandal replied as he steepled his fingers before him, "I believe it was your move, right?"

"In more ways than one," Creuset confirmed as his inscrutable gaze took in both the board and Durandal, "Your grand scheme has hit more than a few snags as of late."

Durandal shrugged. "If you refer to the failed attempt at eliminating the Archangel, that's little more than a temporary setback. Independent players in this game of thrones should be taken off the board as soon as possible, but they can still be planned around if they persist in survival. The songstress and her loyal warriors will be dealt with one way or another. The playing field of today is not what it was two years ago; they cannot win by using the same moves from the old war."

Creuset chuckled. "You don't believe that any more than I do. The playing field is different, yes, but so are the players. The familiar faces have adapted and made powerful new alliances. You've already suffered the consequences of it."

Durandal took a moment before conceding the point. "Moscow aligning with Terminal has proven to be an issue. Their anti-satellite strikes helped foil Operation: Angel Down, and I imagine they're supporting Terminal in other capacities as well. Still, the bulk of their resources remain concentrated on fighting against the Atlantic Federation; their actions against ZAFT have been relatively minimal."

"For the time being," Creuset remarked, "However, who's to say that they won't become more open in confronting you at a later date? Especially once the world learns of what you have planned for it."

"Even if their government does oppose my solution," Durandal replied, "their people are another matter entirely. The world is tired of being consumed by cataclysmic warfare. The last war and this one have beaten it into a weary pulp. The people of the Eurasian Federation have suffered even more acutely since the Atlantic Federation's invasion. Once my plan has been revealed to the world and its feasibility demonstrated, I expect a split to develop in public opinion. From there, it's simply a matter of driving the wedge between the people and their governments. The masses yearn for security and stability, especially since they've been faced with multiple conflicts now where humanity's very survival as a species is threatened. The sales pitch may need to be tweaked for each region's peculiarities, but the people are ready for change. They are ready for peace, and I can give it to them."

Creuset shook his head before finally moving a piece. "You project your desires onto them. Yes, there will always be those who are so cowed by the specter of annihilation that they will submit to anyone who offers them the illusion of safety, but mankind as a whole? Our species is too wild and vicious to ever be truly tamed. People resent control, old friend, and that is what your plan ultimately boils down to."

"Control is necessary, whether they like it or not," Durandal countered as he swiftly responded to Creuset's move with one of his pieces, "Humanity's worst impulses must be checked if our species is to survive in the long-term. My research, and that of my colleagues, has shown the way forward. Now it is simply a matter of preparing the stage for the moment when we present our findings and the solution formulated from them to the world. We have everything we need to make our case; our supporting evidence cannot be denied."

"You say that, yet you know deep down that whatever evidence you present to the public from that research will not be enough," Creuset pointed out, "That is why you built up ZAFT's military to the very limits of the treaty… when you weren't blatantly violating it behind the scenes. Now that war has consumed the world once again, the treaty limits are meaningless, as those shipyard workers your administration is working to the bone have found out the hard way. You can praise the process that you and your colleagues came up with as enlightened and present all the evidence support it that you wish, but you know the truth; your plan will be impossible to implement without the coercive power of military force looming in the background. You've already given up on winning hearts and minds, old friend. You'll seduce those who long for a semblance of order and safety, intimidate those who are so easily subdued by the threat of armed might, and destroy those who would resist your domination over their lives. You've always been a control freak. It's why independent actors like Terminal vex you so dearly, despite their small size."

"Grains of sand can clog up gears," said Durandal, "and Terminal has proven themselves to be particularly effective at finding the most crucial gears to clog. I respect their capacity for it, which is why I take them seriously as a threat. You should know; they thwarted your goals during the last war, after all."

"True," Creuset conceded as he moved another piece, claiming one of Durandal's in the process, "thought I would remind you that it was only at the very last moment. Could they stop me from setting the stage for Armageddon, from igniting the battle that should have spelled the end for humanity? No, they could not. Their skill, technology and tenacity combined with the sheer chaos of that final battle allowed them to triumph, but only at the very last possible moment. They could only disrupt the endgame, the very last move, of my plan. By contrast, your plan is already at risk of derailment, and Terminal is only one factor at play."

Durandal pondered his old friend's words for a moment. "You speak of the North American resistance."

"Amongst others," Creuset confirmed, "Much of your plan hinges upon the major member states of the Earth Alliance remaining united entities so that they continue to be relatively predictable and easy to manipulate. The Atlantic Federation's attack on their erstwhile Eurasian allies has already split the Earth Alliance with Moscow's secession. That alone throws another independent variable into play. However, now you know that there is a significant faction within the Atlantic Federation itself which will not act according to your script. One more variable for you to contend with, and one with an incredible degree of influence and strength."

Durandal sighed. "I suppose there's no denying that they represent a serious threat. They are an unknown to a degree that makes even Terminal understandable. Terminal's goals have always been clear; securing the peaceful coexistence of Coordinators and Naturals, and the destruction of those who would seek to wage campaigns like that of you and your puppets. Whatever my philosophical differences with them may be, I can admire their ideals and selfless commitment to a cause greater than themselves. I can comprehend what they want because I know of or have met several of their members, and they have demonstrated what they stand for both in this war and the last one. This resistance movement operating within the Atlantic Federation, though… they represent something new. I do not have enough information to ascertain their ultimate goals. I don't even have enough data for an educated guess, at least beyond what seems to be the clear enough objective of overthrowing the current Atlantic Federation regime."

Creuset chuckled. "As a scientist first and politician second, you are a man addicted to and bound by data. Without that data, you are lost. You never were all that good when it came to making instinctive judgement calls, old friend."

"No, I suppose not," Durandal admitted, "Yet, here I am, and I must make do."

"So, how will you make do?" Creuset prodded, "You're at a disadvantage here. You don't even know who this resistance's leaders are, so you cannot even attempt to understand and anticipate them in a manner similar to how you approach Terminal. Should they succeed in the near-term by toppling LOGOS's puppet regime in D.C., you will be faced with a North American power that no longer acts in line with their past behavior. Can your plan even survive such a variable?"

"It can," Durandal answered before claiming a piece from Creuset, "Regardless of who ends up ruling North America, the Atlantic Federation's actions in both this war and the last have left them isolated. Between their attempted extermination campaign of our kind, their invasion of Orb two years ago and their turning that country into a proxy this time around, and their betrayal of another Earth Alliance member state, no nation in their right mind would trust any government which rules that continent. Even if this resistance overthrew the Atlantic Federation regime tomorrow and officially repudiated all of their predecessor's actions, would that wipe the slate clean in the eyes of the world? Of course not. The new government would be viewed with suspicion, which would make it difficult for them to forge new alliances. With the popular support that my plan will achieve, we can work around any defiance from the new government and undermine them over time."

Creuset shrugged. "It's true that their recent history does them no favors in the eyes of the international community. Public opinion outside the Earth Alliance is already firmly against D.C., and I imagine that even within their remaining partners they are viewed most warily. Will that be enough to keep America isolated even if a new government takes power and completely disavows the old one? We shall see."

Durandal smiled. "Indeed, we shall."

He saw Creuset tap his chin in thought for a moment before the masked ace spoke again. "Leaving the variable of the resistance aside for the moment, another piece of your plan is in jeopardy."

Durandal raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

"Your planned address to the world regarding LOGOS," said Creuset as he moved a piece, "You were planning on the shock and outrage generated by the announcement to generate support for your campaign, but the cat's already out of the bag. Moscow included a declaration of war against LOGOS in their secession from the Earth Alliance, and word of the organization pulling the strings within the Atlantic Federation has only spread further across the world since. This speech was to be a cornerstone of your agenda, a means to gain sympathy for your cause before going all in with the reveal of your true goals. However, the impact of that speech is going to be considerably less now. No more than a footnote, really, regardless of how eloquent you might be."

It was true. The Moscow declaration had blown the lid off of LOGOS's control over the Atlantic Federation, and in doing so, the Eurasian Federation had unwittingly thrown a wrench into Durandal's scheme. He had been counting on the shock factor of a secret organization manipulating one of the Earth Sphere's great powers to result in a surge of support for ZAFT, perhaps even inspiring defections from the Earth Alliance. Instead, the Eurasian Federation had outright seceded and declared war on LOGOS and the Atlantic Federation, which meant that anyone who sought to fight against the cabal of arms merchants and corporate overlords now had an obvious candidate to rally around. Compensating for that development would not be easy.

"The speech will require some recalibration to fit the new circumstances," Durandal eventually countered as he claimed one of Creuset's pieces, "I won't have the shock value that I was counting on, so I'll have to take a different approach. Moscow may be taking a public stand against LOGOS now, but they cannot deny the fact that they initially went along with the organization's goals by supporting the Atlantic Federation in this war. Their power and influence could have been used to prevent their allies in D.C. from starting this conflict, yet they played the part of passive supporter. I can exploit that."

Creuset chuckled. "Going to rip the moral high ground right out from under them? Poison the well by reminding the world of their failure to oppose the Atlantic Federation sooner, calling out the logistical and limited military support Moscow gave the Americans before turning against them? That might not have the same bite."

"It doesn't need to," Durandal replied, "All I need to do is sow the seeds of doubt. Unlike Moscow, ZAFT has been fighting the Atlantic Federation since the beginning of the war. You could say that we have been fighting LOGOS since the beginning of the war. Therefore, we are the only worthy standard bearers for the struggle against them."

Durandal could almost picture Creuset's eyes rolling behind his mask. "Playing the holier-than-thou card? What a load of horseshit."

"Any manure can still nourish seeds," Durandal shot back with a smirk, "What does the source of it matter so long as results are produced?"

"A rather crude analogy by your standards," Creuset noted.

"You're the one who brought 'horseshit' into our dialogue," Durandal quipped.

Creuset smirked and inclined his head. "Touché."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment before Creuset spoke again. "So, you'll try to keep North America isolated while gambling that your speech-writing skills are enough to make up for the whole LOGOS revelation being spoiled? Well, it'll be interesting to see how that plays out. Aren't you neglecting another factor here, though?"

Durandal tilted his head quizzically. "What factor might that be?"

"Your own people," Creuset answered as he moved a piece and claimed one of Durandal's, "You may be the Supreme Council Chairman, but you do not rule the PLANTs with Patrick Zala's iron fist. Not yet, anyway. The Coordinator people still have their say. You face no elections anytime soon, so your position is at least safe on that front. However, they have more than one leader to turn to should they lose faith in you."

"You refer to Lacus Clyne," Durandal surmised, "A leader cannot have an impact if she is invisible. She may guide Terminal, but her insistence on remaining behind the scenes in this war means that she has lost her ability to persuade the public."

"If you really believed that, then you wouldn't have tried to assassinate her at the start of this war and replace her with a pliant mouthpiece," Creuset shot back, "Let's not delude ourselves here; she has only stayed out of the limelight because it suits her purposes, whatever those may be, at present time. We both understand her well enough to grasp that. She might put on the public persona of an idealistic songstress, but we know the truth; beneath the flowery lyrics and innocent beauty lies a keen political mind. She knows the power that her beliefs and voice can command, so why has she not employed them here? Why cede the field to a crude imitation put in place by the man who ordered a hit on her? The answer to that is simple; she is waiting for the moment that her public reemergence will have the greatest impact. Whatever labors she is undertaking behind the scenes is in service of laying the groundwork for retaking the stage. You can't expect her to remain behind the curtain forever."

"You always did love playing up the theatrical angle," Durandal mused aloud.

"Rather fitting, given the nature of this particular opponent," Creuset pointed out, "She's always had a keen sense for drama in the narrative. She can play on hearts and minds far more effectively than the petty doll you gave the public could ever hope to. Do you really think that your fake songstress can compete with the genuine article when the gauntlet is finally thrown down?"

"With the proper support, yes," Durandal replied, "Support that I have spared no expense to give her."

Creuset shook his head dismissively. "Stage dressing, props, convincing plastic surgery, and well-written speeches are poor substitutes for genuine charisma and intellect. This doppelganger that you've thrust upon the stage can play a role, and play it well, but she's merely performing from the script that you've prepared for her. She's kept the populace of L5 soothed and compliant while keeping the morale of your rank-and-file soldiers bolstered, but she hasn't faced any competition. When Lacus Clyne steps back into the open, it will not be solely to act as one of Terminal's leaders; it will be to challenge you within the PLANTs themselves. She and her supporters within L5 will appeal to the wider populace in an effort to turn them against you. What is your line of defense against that? A manufactured pop star reinforced by a propaganda apparatus?"

"An idol backed up by a sophisticated information dissemination system," Durandal countered, "One that is already prepared to discredit any Lacus Clyne that isn't mine."

Creuset laughed. "You delude yourself, old friend! The genuine article has ways to prove that she is just that; the real thing. She has known associates that are not under your control, ones that you don't know well enough to recreate through actors, surgery, and script-writing. Taking the stage with any of them by her side will be all the proof of her identity that she needs to give the public. Your fake songstress will be the one who is discredited. It is simply a matter of time."

Durandal shrugged before gesturing at the board before them. "Any proper chess piece serves its purpose until it no longer can. I have not built my entire plan around Meer Campbell; she is merely one supporting element out of many. Should the day come when her practical use ends, she can be discarded."

Creuset smirked cruelly. "Were I a kinder man, I might pity her. Putting the phantom of my long-deceased compassion aside, your answer is simply confirmation that you do not have a meaningful response in place for when your songstress is challenged and defeated. You discount her role in your plan at your own peril. Remember, if the fake is revealed to be as such, questions will arise as to why you felt the need to employ an imposter in the first place. The real Lacus Clyne obviously survived your assassination attempt, and she can reveal that attempt at the time and place of her choosing. I highly doubt that the people you rule will take kindly to the fact that you tried to murder their idol."

Durandal spread his hands and gave a faux-innocent smile. "What proof can she offer that I ordered the deed?"

Creuset shrugged. "Who can say? Your attack force was completely wiped out, so you and I can only guess at what transpired. Given that said force involved mobile suits, I have to imagine that they were stopped by mobile suits, which means Terminal can draw on the combat data from their own machines to reveal ZAFT units attacking them."

"Footage can be altered or selectively edited," Durandal pointed out, "The entire world knows this. At this point, it's an easy line of attack to blunt."

"Perhaps," said Creuset, "but that may not be the only evidence that Terminal presents. What about the bodies of the black ops personnel who attacked on foot? It'd be rather morbid if Terminal kept them to be sure, and not really in keeping with that organization's ethics as you and I understand them, but they would be useful for a case like this. Especially when you consider the poison pills that each had implanted in their teeth. For your sake, you had better hope that your enemies merely disposed of the bodies. Anything beyond that, and you're in real trouble."

"The personnel assigned to the mission are all ZAFT black ops," Durandal reminded him as he made his move and claimed one of Creuset's pieces, "They are meant to be disavowed if needed. We can always paint them as rogue elements, leftovers from Patrick Zala's regime. Seeing as similar remnants were involved in the Junius Seven ruins plot, it would be a plausible explanation in the public's eyes."

"True enough," Creuset conceded, "but a plausible story is merely that; a likely explanation, but not a concrete one. It makes for a good official line, but the seeds of doubt are impossible to completely root out. If the songstress can play on and nurture those doubts, they will bear most sour fruit for you indeed."

Durandal nodded. "You're not wrong. At this point, it's safe to say that a reckoning with her is all but inevitable. No matter what plans I may lay out for that day, the fallout is going to be ugly. Damage mitigation is the most realistic response."

Creuset smiled. "And in doing so, the final battlelines will be drawn for all the world to see. Which way will humanity go? The crude path that the Atlantic Federation and its allies currently walk, where mankind's base fear chains it to repeating the mistakes of the past and proving me right about our species? The songstress's idealistic promise of peaceful coexistence and understanding? The railroad that you seek to force it on all in the name of order and survival? When the hour has come, who will be proven right? You? Me? Lacus Clyne and her followers?"

Durandal leaned forward, and his gaze hardened as it fixed on the masked phantom. "The only way to find out is to play this game to the very end."

….

"These aren't bad," Wufei remarked as he swallowed what was left of a steak taco.

Sitting next to him, Lunamaria smiled; she'd already devoured her first serving and was considering grabbing seconds. "Yeah, no kidding. Amazing what Manuel can do with proper ingredients, right?"

"Being able to get them directly from Gibraltar instead of scrounging whatever's aboard the Minerva helps," Wufei noted.

That much was certainly true, and it was one of many reasons why Lunamaria was thankful for the fact that base housing had been made available for her and any other member of the Minerva's crew that wished to make use of them while the ship was undergoing repairs. It wasn't that the Minerva was uncomfortable, but being able to swap out the warship for quarters that were actually on solid ground and had significantly more space felt great. Having easy access to Gibraltar's cooking and storage facilities was a godsend, especially with such a superb cook like Manuel amongst the ranks of the Minerva's pilots.

I'm actually surprised that they gave us this luxury, Lunamaria mused, I mean, after that mess with Operation: Angel Down, I figured that we'd all be in hot water with the top brass. Guess they decided to let us off easy… or maybe they finally realized that we were set up for failure from the start.

Lunamaria certainly wasn't about to complain. The quarters she had taken at the base might've been plain by civilian standards, but it had so much more room to stretch out than the cabin she and Meyrin shared aboard the Minerva. Meyrin herself had likewise taken a room not too far from Lunamaria's, and most of the ship's pilots had made use of the opportunity to ditch the Minerva for a bit as well. Of course, all the pilots were still involved in regular training, which meant a hike from their new quarters back to the Minerva, but Lunamaria honestly didn't mind that. It felt great to have a chance to stretch her legs on solid ground instead of constantly being confined to the ship's stale corridors, and the consistent doses of fresh air did wonders for her soul. It wasn't even all that cold; Gibraltar winters were downright pleasant as far as Lunamaria was concerned. If weren't for the fact that this was a military base in the middle of an ongoing war, the ZAFT Red might have thought that she was on vacation.

"It's as close to shore leave as we're going to get for a while," Lunamaria muttered.

"Make the most of it," said Wufei, "The Minerva might still be out of action for a bit, but that time's going to fly by all too quickly."

Lunamaria nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."

The other surviving pilots of the Minerva, or at least most of them, were certainly heeding that advice. Manuel had set up a grill out on the dock overlooking the sea so he could cook up a quality dinner for anyone who wanted it, while Larissa had set up a couple of tables laden with paper plates, an assortment of beverages and the plastic cups to pour them in, and various side dishes to go with the main course. Kriyya's contribution had been several cheap chairs that she'd scrounged up from base storage, while Alvise had somehow found an empty steel barrel and had lit a fire inside it. In addition to Lunamaria and Wufei, Athrun and Heine had decided to partake in the impromptu late-night cookout, with the only notable absent pilot being Rey. Several other members of the crew were present, including a few bridge personnel like Meyrin and some of the mechanics.

I know Rey's not exactly a social animal, Lunamaria thought with concern, but he used to at least put in a brief appearance whenever we all did stuff together. Then again, I guess that was back when Shinn was still with us. I hope he's okay.

A familiar female voice jerked her out of her thoughts. "Oh, Athrun, here you are! Would it be okay if I joined you?"

Following the sound of the voice, Lunamaria saw none other than the fake Lacus Clyne approaching them. Pretty much everyone stopped what they were doing and gawked at the songstress, with the exceptions of Wufei and Athrun. The former, Lunamaria expected that from; he'd already demonstrated quite clearly that Lacus, fake or otherwise, had no effect on him. The latter was somewhat surprising though. It wasn't that Athrun was indifferent to the imposter Lacus, but rather that he seemed more nervous than anything else. Lunamaria briefly wondered if maybe him and the doppelganger had gotten into some sort of argument, but the warm and friendly manner in which she had called out his name shot down that notion.

"Of course," Athrun eventually answered as he met her halfway before looking around at his companions, "I mean, assuming that's okay with all of you."

"Are you kidding? It's more than okay!" Kriyya enthusiastically replied, "We'd love to have her!"

"Perfect timing, too," Manuel chimed in with a grin, "This next batch of steak is all ready for cutting. I'll have new tacos served up in a few seconds!"

Larissa smiled politely at the songstress before inclining her head. "We're honored by your presence, Miss Clyne. I'm sure you have better things to do than spend time with lowly soldiers like us."

'Lacus' shook her head. "Nonsense; none of you are 'lowly at all. Your work is so valuable to ZAFT and the PLANTs, and everyone should recognize that!"

"Here, here!" Alvise cheered as he raised a glass in her direction.

Heine gave her a warm smile. "Welcome, Miss Clyne. I daresay you will enjoy tonight's feast; Manuel pulled out all the stops."

As the others gathered around the imposter songstress, Lunamaria saw Wufei set his plate aside and stand up. "I need to stretch my legs for a bit. I'll be back later."

"Mind if I come with?" asked Lunamaria.

Wufei raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were going to grab seconds?"

"It can wait a bit," Lunamaria replied, "A walk will help the first batch settle. Besides, I could use the exercise."

She thought for a moment that he might refuse her, but Wufei simply shrugged. "If that's what you wish."

Wufei set off, with Lunamaria bidding a brief farewell to the others before rushing to catch up. Looking over her shoulder, she made sure that they were out of earshot of their compatriots before turning to Wufei.

"You really don't like her, do you?" she remarked, "Lacus, I mean."

"It's nothing personal," said Wufei, "She's assigned her role, and she plays it. She lacks the agency of the genuine article. Then again, I've never met the original, so I can't really say how I ought to feel about her."

Wufei already knowing that the 'Lacus' at Gibraltar was a fake at least made the issue easier for Lunamaria to discuss with him. "Even if she isn't the real deal, I don't think she's a bad person. That's not the vibe I get from her, anyway."

"Maybe," Wufei conceded, "but you have to remember that the 'vibe' is part of the performance. Perhaps some of who that girl really is seeps through, but you can never be completely certain of it. That's the tricky part of dealing with actors; sifting through the show to find the real."

"You're not even trying to do that, though," Lunamaria pointed out, "You bugged out as soon as she showed up. It might not be 'personal' to you, but it probably feels that way to her."

Wufei was quiet for a moment. "I don't mean any offense to her. Being around her, knowing what she really is… it makes me uneasy."

Lunamaria's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"At the end of the day, she's nothing more than an extension of the Chairman's will," Wufei answered, "She plays the part because he needs her to fulfill it, and she follows her script to the letter."

The proverbial lightbulb clicked on in Lunamaria's head. "You're worried about the same thing happening to you, aren't you? You becoming nothing more than an obedient subordinate of the Chairman, I mean."

"I'm not that far gone," Wufei grumbled, "Unlike Durandal's doll, I haven't given up my very identity for the cause… whatever that cause may truly be."

Lunamaria furtively looked around, just to make sure that they weren't within earshot of anyone else; the direction that the conversation was heading in could land both of them in very hot water if the wrong person overheard them. "I wonder… do we really even know what that cause is anymore?"

"I figured it would be simple for you," said Wufei, "Defend the PLANTs and restore peace to the Earth Sphere, right?"

"But are we really doing that?" Lunamaria pressed, "The more I think about it, the less things make sense."

Wufei eyed her in curiosity. "Go on."

Lunamaria took a deep breath. "It's something I've been mulling over ever since we got the orders for Operation: Angel Down. Actually… maybe longer than that. Maybe since the Atlantic Federation invaded Europe… and we did basically jack squat. Looking back on all that we've done or haven't done, how things have played out since the war started… something feels off, Wufei."

He continued to stare at her intently as they walked, not saying anything. It made Lunamaria feel like she was very much on the spot here, like a pupil giving a presentation to a particularly demanding instructor. It was a bit intimidating, but also strangely validating. Wufei clearly valued her thoughts, and it seemed like he wanted her to expand on them.

"It's like this," she continued, "If our stated objectives for the war are to protect the PLANTs and return peace to the world, certain things make sense, but others don't. Obviously, we'd want to maintain the strongest possible position in outer space since that's where our people live, and we've done that so far. All the resources we've devoted to fighting on Earth itself, though… that's a different story."

"There are valid reasons for trying to keep the fighting on Earth as much as possible," Wufei pointed out, "For starters, keeping the actual combat as far away from one's own home as possible is generally seen as a good thing. The more that ZAFT keeps the Earth Alliance focused on planet-side combat, the less attention that the enemy is paying to L5. That alone helps boost the Coordinator peoples' odds of survival."

"True," Lunamaria conceded, "and that explains why we put so much early effort on reinforcing Carpentaria and Gibraltar; if we want to keep the fighting on Earth and away from the PLANTs, then we can't let our only two surface bases fall. After that, though…"

"Things start becoming excessive," Wufei finished for her, "Look at Diocuia. Sure, ZAFT can claim a strategic benefit by now having two bases from which to threaten Europe, but was it really necessary to take for a supposedly defensive war? The Suez Canal actually makes more sense; ZAFT holding it means they control a major artery for global surface trade, which would give the PLANTs a great amount of leverage in any peace treaty negotiations. Diocuia is a step beyond, though. There's no real defensive argument to be made for taking it. It exists to threaten Europe and provide a second front from which a potential ZAFT invasion of the continent can be launched. That's it."

Lunamaria nodded. "Right. Hell, forget Diocuia for a second and just think about how ZAFT's been acting ever since the Atlantic Federation invaded Europe. What have we done in response? Sure, ZAFT's still official at war with the Eurasian Federation, but now they're no longer part of the Earth Alliance; the Americans betrayed them. If ZAFT allied with the Eurasian Federation, it'd be a huge boost to us. That's obvious even for a grunt pilot like me to see. We didn't do that, though. The Minerva sent out mobile suits to fight at Berlin and harass Atlantic Federation units in other parts of Europe, but that's all ZAFT did. Even now, when we clearly have a common enemy, we're still at war with the Eurasians. How does that make any sense?"

Wufei shook his head. "It doesn't. If the PLANTs are waging a war for their very survival, then they should be seeking out all possible allies. The Eurasians demonstrated that they weren't genuinely supportive of the Atlantic Federation's genocide campaign; even when they were officially backing the Americans, their support was half-hearted at best. Now Moscow and D.C. are openly at war with each other, which offers a prime opportunity for the PLANTs to pull the Eurasian Federation into their orbit, or at least offer a ceasefire and temporary military alliance. That hasn't happened, though, at least not to my knowledge."

Lunamaria sighed heavily. "Instead, we go after Terminal, who we know is against the Atlantic Federation's campaign to wipe us out. Sure, we've got our difference and fought at Gibraltar, but Terminal's not seeking to massacre our people, and we worked well with them earlier in the war. I still can't wrap my head around the top brass's thinking."

"That makes two of us," Wufei muttered.

The two of the came to a stop at an empty dock, a rare thing in a base as busy as Gibraltar. Lunamaria saw Wufei stare out at the sea, looking utterly lost.

"What the hell are we even doing anymore?" he asked, though Lunamaria wasn't sure if the question was directed at her or himself, "The Atlantic Federation's still the clear and present threat, so we should be focused on them. Instead, the Chairman has us chase after Heero and the others while the Americans rampage in Europe. This isn't to protect the PLANTs, it's for something else. What, though? What are we fighting for?"

Lunamaria sighed as she leaned against him and took his hand. "Honestly, I don't know anymore."

She thought that he might push her away, but that didn't happen. If anything, Lunamaria actually felt Wufei squeeze her hand in response. It spoke volumes of just how despondent the Gundam pilot felt right now, and Lunamaria could hardly blame him.

I miss the days when this war was simple, she thought as she rested her head against his shoulder, when we knew for sure what we were putting our lives on the line for. Then again, maybe it was never as simple as it felt back then. Maybe we just didn't realize the truth…

…that we're just pawns in someone else's game.

….

Far from the cookout organized by the Minerva's pilots, a very different sort of rendezvous was underway. This one was a private get-together between two mercenaries, one that Larry 'Solo Wing Pixy' Foulke, Galm Team's number two, had been eagerly anticipating.

She really did show, he thought with a smile as he saw the approaching silhouette of Klara Rask, I was worried for a moment that she'd ditch…

"Hey, there," he greeted the lovely blonde mercenary, admiring how the light of the little campfire he'd set up flickered in her silver eyes.

She gave him a small smile in return, which was definitely a good start in Pixy's book. "Hey, yourself. I'm not late, am I?"

` Pixy shook his head before gesturing at the impromptu setup. "Not at all. I got out here a bit early to prep the stage, so you're good. What do you think?"

Klara's smile grew somewhat as she took in the humble fire, the small table with a bottle of wine and two glasses perched atop it, two folding chairs, and the view of the sea beyond illuminated by the running lights of warships and searchlights from the base itself. "Not bad. How'd you find this little spot?"

"I like to properly scope out the bases I'm assigned to," Pixy answered, "Gotta find all the sweet spots in case I need to get away and break regulations for a bit. I thought this one would be perfect for us."

"You're not wrong," Klara conceded before giving Pixy a steely look, "Don't get ahead of yourself, though. I agreed to a chat over drinks tonight. Anything beyond that… well, you're going to have to work for it."

Pixy chuckled before pulling a seat back for her. "Wouldn't have it any other way. Now, shall we?"

"Yes," she replied as she took the seat and eyed the bottle, "Red, C.E. 53… where'd you find this?"

Pixy smirked as he settled in across the table from her. "I beat one of the base's top mobile suit team commanders in poker, and he didn't have the cash to cover his bet. I knew he had a secret stash, so I told him I'd settle for a bottle instead of money… and in exchange for keeping my mouth shut about him breaking the base's booze regulations. He ponied up the wine pretty quickly. No idea if it's a good vintage of not, but it's what I've got."

Klara shrugged. "I'm no wine snob, so I don't have the faintest clue if it's valuable. As long as it's drinkable, that's all I care about."

"Same here," said Pixy as he popped open the bottle and filled their glasses.

"What should we drink to?" asked Klara.

Pixy eyed his glass for a moment in thought. "How about our survival? That last fight could've gone much worse for the likes of us."

Klara smiled again, her eyes gleaming as they met Pixy's. "Works for me."

The two of them raised their glasses, with Pixy taking the lead. "To living to fight another day."

"And for the next paycheck," Klara added as they clinked their glasses together.

They both took long sips from their glasses, savoring the vintage as they looked out at the dark sea. Maybe the view would've been better during the day, but the fact that Pixy was still alive to see it at all after how hectic the last battle had been made it beautiful in his eyes…

…almost as beautiful as the woman he was sharing the wine with tonight.

"Your flight lead's not going to mind your absence?" Klara asked after a moment.

Pixy smiled. "Cipher's occupied tonight. Video call with a girl back in Aprilius One. I bet she's ripping him a new one as we speak for keeping her up there rather than letting her come down to Earth with us. Then again, if she had come down here, she probably would've died with the sub's crew."

"She a mercenary?" Klara inquired, "Support staff for you two?"

"She used to be ZAFT," Pixy answered, "Medical staff on the destroyer we based out of during the last war. Got out and went private sector after the final battle, but she kept close ties with the two of us. She and Cipher are about as tight as I've ever seen him with a girl."

"Quite impressive for a girl to hold his attention like that," Klara remarked, "From what I've seen, your flight lead only ever has eyes for combat and simulator exercises."

"He's all business whenever we're on a contract," Pixy conceded, "and we've been on contract since before you met the two of us. Off hours, he tends to keep to himself, so the ladies usually don't get a chance to make a pass at him. This one, though… she's tough as nails and a real spitfire. Guess you could say that she's his type."

"Hopefully he survives this contract and can go back to her," said Klara before taking another sip from her glass.

"She's definitely that extra bit of motivation for him," Pixy replied as he eyed her over the rim of his glass, "You got anyone waiting for you back in the PLANTs?"

Klara was quiet for several long moments, and when she did speak, her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I did, one upon a time."

Pixy realized he was potentially treading on thin ice, but he couldn't resist the mystery. "What happened?"

The answer he got from her was not what he'd been expecting, and in the worst way possible. "The Bloody Valentine happened."

"Shit…" Pixy hissed with a grimace, "Klara, I… I'm so sorry."

"So am I," she murmured as she looked up at the stars above.

Pushing further probably wasn't the wisest move, so Pixy thought long and hard before speaking again. "If you don't mind me asking… how'd you dodge that bullet?"

"I was out on a job," said Klara, her gaze still on the sky, "Back then, I'd contracted with the Heinlein Design Bureau as a test pilot. They had me putting prototypes through their paces out at one of their secret proving grounds. We got the warning about the inbound Alliance fleet, and they let me scramble, but… we were too far out. I arrived just in time to witness the nuke take out the colony… to watch it kill my beloved, along with both of our families."

"Damn," Pixy murmured, struggling for further words, "That… that's the worst."

"It is," Klara softly concurred.

Pixy took a deep breath. "So, this current contract… you didn't take it to fight the Archangel or the Gundams. The enemy you want to take out is the Earth Alliance. This war… and the last one… it's personal for you."

"Us professionals can't afford to make the contracts personal," Klara replied, "That's how we get killed."

Pixy's eyes narrowed. "Maybe, but I didn't hear a 'no' in there. We might be professionals, but we're still human. We can talk all we want about checking our feelings at the door, but reality's never that simple."

Klara sighed before taking another sip of wine. "No… it never is."

"So this war is personal for you," Pixy pressed.

Klara closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again the look Pixy saw was one of grim determination. "Against Terminal or any other side threats, it's simply a job. Against the Atlantic Federation or any other Earth Alliance member states… the paycheck's just a bonus."

Pixy nodded. "Thought so."

Klara shook her head and let out an exasperated exhalation. "I don't usually let myself open up like this… must be the damn wine. Is that why you brought this bottle? Loosen me up, learn my secrets?"

"I just wanted to share a drink and chat with an intriguing colleague," Pixy answered with a smile, "Anything I learn about you in the process is just a bonus."

Klara smirked. "Is that so? Can I really believe that?"

Pixy shrugged. "If you don't trust me, you can always stop drinking the wine. You haven't even finished your first glass yet; still time to cut yourself off."

Klara eyed the glass for a moment before taking another deep sip. "And waste the good stuff when I'm getting it for free? I think not."

The two of them spent the next minute or two enjoying the wine before Pixy spoke again. "So, say the next sortie is against the Alliance and not one of Durandal's personal enemies… should I be worried about you flying off the handle?"

Klara waved a hand dismissively. "Hardly. I can keep my cool against them; if I couldn't, I wouldn't have survived the last war. At worst, I might be a bit more… enthusiastic about the fight. Just a bit. If nothing else, I'll definitely run up my kill count."

"No harm in doing the job with gusto," Pixy remarked, "Galm's contract has a built-in bonus scale for kills. I'm assuming yours does, too?"

"It does," Klara confirmed, "Pity it means that the payout for the last battle won't have any bonus."

"Hey, you dueled the Hawk of Endymion and walked away alive," Pixy pointed out, "Maybe it doesn't give you a cash bonus, but it'll probably give your rep a boost. For us mercs, that's just as important as the bank account."

"True," Klara conceded as she eyed Pixy over the rim of her wine glass, "and you and your flight lead managed to survive a fight with the Valkyrie. You already could claim the honor of living through multiple fights with Heero Yuy, and now you can add enduring a clash with one of ZAFT's former top aces to your list of accomplishments."

Pixy chuckled as images of that fight flashed through his mind. "Well, she definitely made us work for it. That new machine of hers is no joke. I don't exactly like our odds if we can't get our promised units online before we have to fight Terminal again."

Klara shrugged. "Terminal's surface units haven't been sighted for several days now, right? Word is they raided bases in the British Isles, but they've dropped off the radar ever since. I could be wrong about this, but I've got a feeling that the next time we take the field, it'll probably be against the Earth Alliance."

"A feeling? Or a hope?" Pixy prodded.

"Both," Klara admitted, "That's not a problem, is it?"

Pixy smirked before taking another sip from his glass. "Not at all. Personally, I'm in the same camp. Sure, Cipher's all about taking on the most skilled opponent he can find, so going up against enemy regulars isn't his idea of a good time, but me? Bring on the grunts so I can run up the kills and rake in the bonus pay."

Klara smiled and raised her glass, a huntress's hunger in her eyes. "Bonus pay, and for me… satisfaction."

Pixy raised and tapped his glass against hers. "I'll drink to that."

….

December 16th, C.E. 73

For all that she had wanted to return to outer space, Lacus Clyne would begrudgingly admit that the secret asteroid shipyard and base that she currently called home was not exactly a pleasant place to stay. This was hardly the fault of those who ran and maintained it; the facility had specific roles to play, and it played them well. What Lacus didn't like about it was that the base was purely utilitarian. Its rooms and corridors were utterly spartan, lacking even viewports through which one might at least look out at the stars for a change of scenery. This was an unfortunate necessity; no effort was spared in maintaining the base's disguise as just another asteroid floating around the Earth Sphere, and windows would definitely have given the game away. Screens and cameras had been set up to offer an outside view, but that was mostly so those manning the security and watch stations could see the space around them in addition to what showed up on their radar sets. Lacus fully understood and tolerated the conditions, but she didn't have to like them.

Humans were meant to look upon more than just cold steel, she thought, I do not envy those who staff this place full-time.

Lacus had little time to worry about amenities at the base right now, though; she had far more important matters to concern herself with. Returning her focus to the desktop monitor, the songstress's eyes narrowed as she studied the latest series of dossiers that Eileen Canaver had forwarded her. Reestablishing contact with the former Supreme Council member and Clyne Faction veteran had definitely been the right move on Lacus's part, for Eileen had been a non-stop fountain of information on current PLANT internal politics ever since. While Eric Bristow's network of contacts had provided information on that aspect before, his sources were more focused on the military side of things rather than the civil government, so having Eileen and her allies on board provided a much-needed change in perspective. Without a thorough and up-to-date understanding of current events and political intrigue within L5, it would be impossible for Terminal to influence the situation and undermine Durandal when the time came.

At the moment, Lacus's interest was focused on learning as much as she could about Durandal's current crop of allies and supporters within the PLANT political sphere. Understanding what sort of people most strongly backed the Supreme Council Chairman would go a long way towards finding the best means by which to subvert him, and Lacus had already discovered a potentially useful but also very disturbing trend. On the surface, Durandal had gone out of his way to build his political coalition by embracing a mix of Clyne Faction supporters and those who had worked for Patrick Zala's administration but had been far enough removed from the old regime's crimes to be considered palatable for continued public service. While Lacus had a natural distaste for Patrick Zala's supporters regardless of whether or not they'd been directly involved in the former regime's monstrous agenda, she begrudgingly understood the logic behind Durandal's recruitment strategy. He had clearly sought to construct a broad tent as a means of reconciliation between former political rivals, and the message it sent to the broader public was clear; the PLANTs were going to move away from the bitter past under Durandal's administration and embrace a future of unity and shared prosperity. It was a potent platform, and Lacus normally wouldn't have focused too much on it…

…save for the fact that, as she dug deeper into the dossiers on several of his supporters, she had found an alarming tendency towards the ideology of Coordinator supremacy.

Whenever someone mentioned that ideology, the first image that sprang to mind most likely would be Patrick Zala and his followers. That was quite natural, and indeed the annihilationist goals that the PLANT Radical Faction had embraced during the final campaigns of the First Bloody Valentine War were the logical endpoint of that ideology. Like all political ideologies, though, Coordinator supremacy had a spectrum within itself, and not all of its adherents went to the extremes of Patrick Zala and his bloodthirsty supporters.

Not that a 'moderate' Coordinator supremacist is much better, Lacus mused with disdain, Patrick Zala was, in a perverse manner, the easiest of their lot to deal with; the blatant genocide campaign of his regime made him an extremely clear enemy, and therefore it was not difficult to rally support against him. Those that occupy other points of the spectrum are much more slippery with their beliefs, and oftentimes too cowardly to state them openly. If they are to be thought of as less abhorrent than the likes of Patrick Zala, then that is only because their goals involve the subordination of Naturals to Coordinators instead of their outright destruction. When one's choices are between servitude and genocide, second-class citizenship and annihilation… it's a loathsome ideology, regardless of what form it takes.

Durandal wasn't so stupid as to have the worst of the worst Coordinator supremacists amongst his supporters; his purge of the civil service and military had resulted in no small number of Radical faction members being ousted from jobs and even imprisoned if their crimes warranted it. Egregious proponents of the ideology did not seem to be included in his support base, though of course it was impossible to know the hearts and minds of every follower. Still, as Lacus studied the names of prominent allies that Durandal had secured from members of the old regime and went through their histories, there was a pattern of 'hot-mic' statements or past writings that hinted at nefarious and odious beliefs. Old essays or magazine articles espousing the idea that the Coordinator people were meant to serve as the new vanguard of humanity's expansion out into the far reaches of the Sol System while Naturals were relegated to mere labor, for example, or instances of recorded remarks where the speaker had voiced his or her belief that the enhanced genes of Coordinators was scientific proof of their fitness to rule the Earth Sphere and give order to the 'base and chaotic energies' of Naturals.

Even if one pointed out that pattern, of course, Lacus knew that Durandal could simply respond that he had done his best to appropriately balance his coalition and that everyone had remarks or past writings that didn't reflect well on them, that they wished to put behind them. The 'balanced' part of his coalition could be called into question, though, upon closer inspection. As Lacus continued to review the list of names and the histories behind each, it did not escape her that those whose words and deeds marked them as confirmed or likely Coordinator Supremacists tended to hold much more influential positions within ZAFT and the civil government of the PLANTs than former members or allies of the Clyne Faction did. The bias wasn't overwhelming, and indeed it looked like Durandal had gone out of his way to disguise it by propping up many former Clyne Faction members or affiliates in positions of great symbolic or ceremonial importance, but posts with real power seemed to be given more often than not to supposedly 'reformed' Radicals. Lacus's findings couldn't be used as concrete evidence of bias, but as far as circumstantial evidence went, it was starting to pile up.

Pile up towards what, though? That was the million-dollar question, and Lacus did not feel like she was much closer to answering it now than she'd been before returning to outer space. What she had pointed vaguely towards intent, perhaps a program that would favor Coordinators over Natural's in whatever post-war world order that Durandal was envisioning, but Lacus didn't have enough to serve as even an outline of a plan. As she and her friends had feared, Durandal was proving to be a fiendishly difficult nut to crack. Even so, she wasn't about to give up. Too much depended on it. Just as the friends and comrades she'd left behind on the surface were continuing to fight the good fight, Lacus would press on in her own manner.

Having finished the first series of files that Eileen had sent her, Lacus moved on to the next. Bit by bit, she would find the pieces of the puzzle that was Durandal's end goal for this war. She and Terminal would put them together, find the answers that they so desperately needed, and formulate their counter. Lacus could only hope that they found those answers before it was too late.

….

Athrun wasn't a man who particularly craved the spotlight, so being on stage during the promotion ceremony being staged in the Gibraltar base's main hangar hardly counted as his idea of a good time. His discomfort was mitigated somewhat by the fact that he wasn't the one directly in the spotlight today, at least not yet; that honor went to Rey, whom Chairman Durandal was inducting into the ranks of FAITH. The ZAFT Red had centerstage at the moment, with Durandal pinning the silver-winged emblem to Rey's uniform while Athrun looked on from the side. On his left stood Heine, appearing to be quite at ease with the pomp and circumstance, while on Athrun's right Meer was positively aglow. Past Heine was Talia, whose expression could best be described as cool bordering on icy. Athrun could hardly blame her for that.

Rey completely disregarded his mission orders and zeroed in on Shinn during Operation: Angel Down, Athrun recalled, I'm not exactly complaining since it means he was wasting the Blast Impulse's firepower trying to hit a fighter jet instead of aiming it at the Archangel, but I can definitely see why Captain Gladys is less than thrilled. Rey being promoted just a short time after she reprimanded him undermines her authority. I wonder if the Chairman realizes what message he's sending here…

Mercifully, the ceremony didn't exactly have a massive crowd of onlookers. Members of the Minerva's crew made up most of the audience, along with some base personnel, but hardly a giant throng like what Athrun had been expecting. Maybe the Chairman hadn't announced that 'Lacus' would be attending the ceremony; given the crowds Athrun had seen Meer draw during her performances, he would've normally expected a packed house.

Then again, the ceremony audience was probably one that had been pre-selected rather than made up of just anyone responding to an open invitation. Athrun was leaning towards the invitation-only in no small part due to what was behind the hastily assembled stage. Looming large in the background were two mobile suits, and they were considerably bigger than most of the units that Athrun had seen ZAFT field so far in this war. They weren't on the level of monstrosities like the Earth Alliance's Destroy unit, but their scale did put them in the same category as machines like the advanced nuclear-powered prototypes that ZAFT had developed in the final year of the last war. That alone raised considerable alarms for Athrun, because he was willing to bet his life savings that these new units were nuclear-powered as well.

In fact, one of the units looked quite familiar, specifically the one on the left. It, like its winged-companion, was currently a dull gray, a sign that its Variable Phase Shift Armor was currently deactivated. What immediately caught Athrun's notice was the large split-circle attachment mounted on the unit's back, along with the eight spine-like structures jutting out from it. It immediately called to mind the unit that Kira had squared off against during the final battle of the last war; the ZGMF-X13A Providence flown by none other than Rau Le Creuset. There was simply no way that the resemblance could be coincidental.

The machine on the left must be an evolution of Creuset's last mobile suit, Athrun recalled, ZAFT's now openly violating the Treaty of Junius Seven by producing nuclear-powered mobile suits again. Of course, it's not like anyone else has been honoring that article of the treaty, but ZAFT at least made a show of pretending to comply before. Now they're acting blatantly in defiance of it, which just goes to show that the treaty is truly dead.

Designing new nuclear-powered mobile suits was no small thing. Even improving upon a previously fielded design like the Providence took considerable time and effort, which to Athrun meant that this machine and its companion had been in the works for likely quite a while now. It was a development that boded quite ill for the future. What else was ZAFT cooking up behind the scenes?

Athrun found his gaze almost subconsciously drifting back and forth between Rey and the Providence's descendant. Seeing the young man with that machine behind him triggered another alarm for Athrun, and he realized something that he really should have caught much earlier; Rey looked very much like how Athrun imagined Creuset himself might look if he were some years younger and didn't have that famous mask of his. Hair, height, posture and more all added up to Athrun suddenly seeing Rey in a very different light.

No, I'm jumping to crazy conclusions here, Athrun, thought as he studied Rey, I have to be. The resemblance between those two… am I just hallucinating? I never saw Creuset without his mask, so I have no idea what he looked like under there.

No, that wasn't quite true. He'd never seen Creuset without the mask, yes, but he had seen someone very closely related to ZAFT's infamous commander before. In fact, Athrun had worked alongside him in the not-so-distant past; Mu La Flaga. He suddenly pictured the Hawk of Endymion onstage next to Rey, and the resemblance was downright startling.

Creuset had been a direct clone of Al Da Flaga, which explained superficial similarities that he'd shared with the man's son, Mu. If that was the case, though, then where did Rey fit into the equation? It was only now that Athrun understood just how little he really knew about the ZAFT Red that had just been promoted before his eyes to FAITH. He knew Rey as a fellow pilot, understood the young man's capabilities in combat, but how much did Athrun know about him as a person? Other than the cool and focused demeanor that the young man almost always seemed to possess, Rey was almost a blank slate to Athrun.

Should've been trying to get closer to him from the start, Athrun mentally reprimanded himself, I should've caught the resemblance between him and Creuset right away; I served under the damn man, after all. Instead, I got so caught up in serving the 'new ZAFT' that I completely missed what was actually going on around me. Damn it… guess I should stick to piloting, because I'm shit when it comes to intelligence work.

"How fortunate for Rey that the Chairman is a truly wise and magnanimous leader," Heine quietly remarked, "Don't you agree, Athrun?"

Athrun glanced at his fellow pilot, working hard to keep his comportment casual yet disciplined. "I do. The Chairman must see something very special in Rey to promote him despite his actions in the previous battle."

"One's mistakes should not define them," Heine replied before looking towards the third member of FAITH in their presence, "because there's always the chance to learn and grow from them. Such chances should be recognized, and such growth encouraged. Would you not concur that this is for the best, Captain?"

"I'll leave that up to the Chairman," Talia answered neutrally, "As soldiers of ZAFT and members of FAITH, we ultimately answer to him. We must trust that our superiors can see the bigger picture, and that their decisions are for the good of us all."

Heine nodded before looking at the mobile suits behind the stage and then turning back to smile at Athrun. "That's a good way to put it. I myself find myself wondering lately as to the Chairman's reasoning behind another decision that he's made. I suppose I must have faith that he sees what I cannot. Heh… a FAITH member needing to have faith… forgive the pun, I swear it was unintentional."

"I should certainly hope so," Talia deadpanned.

"I'll take your word for it," Athrun muttered, puzzled as to why Heine's attention was suddenly on him.

He got his answer a few seconds later when Durandal beckoned for him to come forward. "In addition to your well-deserved elevation into the ranks of FAITH, Rey, you and a fellow FAITH member have been deemed worthy of wielding the latest fruits of ZAFT's peerless mobile suit designers. Athrun, would you please join us?"

Athrun nodded and moved to take centerstage alongside Rey, casting a glance towards the machines looming over the ceremony. Athrun had a feeling that he already knew what mobile suit Durandal would assign him, so the real question was why he was being offered such a powerful machine considering his recent failure on the battlefield?

"You two have proven yourselves time and time again to be amongst the best pilots that ZAFT has to offer," Durandal began, "You have faced great adversity and, while not always triumphing, have managed to survive and continue to fight on for the sake of our people and restoring peace in the Earth Sphere. In recognition of your abilities and dedicated service, I personally recommended to the Defense Council that you both be granted units that will allow you to bring out the full scope of your talents, and the Council has agreed."

Durandal turned to Rey and gestured to the machine with the spiked split-disk on its back. "From this day forward, Rey, you are now the pilot of the ZGMF-X666S Legend Gundam. I should warn you that the weapons systems of this machine will push your spatial awareness to its absolute limits. This will be by far the most challenging mobile suit you've ever piloted, but I'm confident in your ability to conquer it."

Rey inclined his head. "I won't let you down, Chairman."

"I know you won't," Durandal replied with a smile before turning to Athrun and pointing at the winged machine next to the Legend, "Athrun, you have been assigned as pilot of the ZGMF-X42S Destiny Gundam. In addition to its formidable arsenal, it utilizes an advanced propulsion system capable of achieving speeds that very few other mobile suits can come close to. For you, the great test will be mastering that speed. I look forwards to seeing how you employ it on the battlefield."

"Thank you, Chairman," said Athrun, his eyes narrowing as he studied the Destiny.

An advanced propulsion system capable of incredible speed, Athrun thought as he focused his gaze on the wings jutting out from the Destiny, I wonder… could it be a Voiture Lumiere? Bristow's contact network helped Terminal acquire the schematics for that system from the Deep Space Survey and Development Organization and used it on the Wing Zero Albion and Epyon Revenant, so I suppose it's not out of the question for ZAFT to have infiltrated that organization as well. Is the Destiny the first unit that ZAFT's successfully implemented it on, or are there others waiting in the wings?

"When will we be able to start training on them?" asked Rey.

"The units will be moved to the Minerva shortly," Durandal answered, "You both are more than welcome to begin familiarizing yourselves with them at that time. Multiple simulator exercises have already been programmed into them so that you'll have a place to start in testing out their weapons, and you're of course more than welcome to upload any other simulations that you feel would serve well. Preparations are also being made as we speak by Gibraltar's staff to facilitate live-fire exercises."

Athrun looked at the Destiny for a moment before turning back to Durandal. "How long until we're expected to take them into battle?"

"Not until repairs on the Minerva are completed and new orders issued," Durandal replied, "I assure you that you'll both be given plenty of time to practice with the new units before actual combat is required of you."

Athrun nodded. "That'll be helpful. I know the Saviour was declared a total loss, so I appreciate having a new unit to wield so soon. What'll happen to the Impulse now that Rey's no longer assigned to it?"

Durandal smiled. "Heine will be taking the Impulse from here on out."

"That's going to leave his GOUF Ignited free," Athrun noted, "Has another pilot been assigned to that unit yet?"

"Possibly," said Durandal as he looked past Athrun, "Captain Gladys, do you have a suitable candidate in mind?"

"Lunamaria's the obvious one," Talia answered as she scanned the audience and found the pilot in question, "but the GOUF Ignited requires a very different approach to combat than what she's used to. Miss Hawke, do you wish to take on Heine's old machine?"

Standing near the front row, Lunamaria took a deep breath, no doubt a bit nervous about suddenly being put on the spot. "If that's an order, Captain, then I'll of course obey. If I'm given a choice in the matter, though… I would prefer to stick with the Gunner ZAKU Warrior. It's what I'm used to, and I've gotten pretty good with it. The GOUF's probably better off with another pilot."

Athrun saw Wufei standing to her left, and the Gundam pilot's brow furrowed as he looked at Lunamaria. "You've got what it takes to handle that machine. Don't sell yourself short."

Lunamaria smiled at him, and Athrun thought he caught the briefest flash of red in her face before she turned to face Talia. "I appreciate that, but still… I don't think it's for me. Unless you're making it an order, Captain."

Talia shook her head before turning back to Durandal. "If that's your decision, then I'll respect it. I'll put in a request for suitable pilot candidates operating out of Gibraltar. I trust that won't be an issue, Chairman?"

Durandal smiled. "Not at all. If you'll forward the request to my office, I'll expedite it personally. I'm sure Gibraltar has plenty of pilots here that are worthy of joining those operating from the Minerva, and it's in our collective interest to get one assigned to you as quickly as possible."

Talia inclined her head. "Much appreciated, Chairman."

Durandal then turned to address the wider audience. "That concludes this ceremony. I thank you all for your attendance and wish you good fortune in the battles ahead. The fate of our people rides on all of you, and I have every confidence that you will meet and surpass their expectations. Until I have the pleasure of addressing you again, farewell."

Just a few seconds after the Chairman departed from the stage, Athrun found Meer flinging herself at him, taking him into an enthusiastic embrace. "Oh, congratulations, Athrun!"

"Uhm, thanks," Athrun replied nervously, keenly aware of the fact that many of the audience members had yet to depart and that several of them were now giving him very jealous looks, "but I wasn't the one that got promoted; that was Rey."

"You've been granted a powerful new mobile suit," Meer countered as she released him and gestured at the Destiny, "For top pilots like yourself, being assigned a machine that's more advanced than your previous one is a promotion of sorts, right?"

"I guess that's true," Athrun conceded as he looked up at his new machine, "Although I'm surprised that the Chairman gave me this unit after my failure in the last battle."

Meer shook her head and smiled. "I'm not. The Chairman's recognized your outstanding abilities from the beginning. He was always going to assign the Destiny to you; he was simply waiting for the unit to be ready."

"Now that you have it, you should have no trouble with the Freedom next time we engage it," Heine chimed in, "The Destiny is the Freedom's superior in every way that counts, and I look forward to seeing you prove that when we face that machine in battle again."

Athrun turned to meet the gaze of his fellow FAITH member. Like Meer, Heine was smiling, but unlike the fake songstress, Athrun found little joy in the pilot's expression. Rather, it almost felt like Heine's words were a threat… and, Athrun realized, they most likely were just that.

I probably won't be able to get away with a thrown fight next time, Athrun thought, no matter how convincing I try to make it. Heine at least seems to suspect me, and I'd be a fool if I didn't consider the possibility that others do, too.

Looking at the Destiny again, Athrun made up his mind. He'd put in overtime on mastering the new machine that ZAFT had given him…

…and then, once the time was right, he would make a break for it.

….

"You've been staring at the screen for hours now," said a familiar female voice from behind Eric Bristow, "I know your work's important, but you need to do a better job at taking care of you, dear."

Blinking a few times, Eric looked over his shoulder and smiled when he saw his wife holding up two cups of coffee. "That for me?"

Shemei returned his smile before thrusting one of the cups in front of him. "Of course it is, silly. I'm not going to down both of these by myself."

"Right," Eric murmured as he rubbed his eyes before gratefully accepting the cup and downing its contents, "Oh, that hits the spot. Thanks, Shemei. Think I lost track of time for a while there."

"Not the first time that's happened with you," Shemei remarked as she sat sideways on his lap and pecked him on the cheek, "and I know it won't be the last. As cute as you can be when you're fully throwing yourself into an investigation, you do tend to go a bit too hard. I feel like if it wasn't for me pestering you, you'd forget to take breaks altogether."

"Well, then it's a good thing I married you," Eric replied as he put a hand on his wife's hip, "I'd be real wreck right now if I didn't have you watching out for me."

"You really would," Shemei confirmed with a smirk before playfully running a hand through his black hair.

The two of them sat in contented silence for a couple of minutes sipping on their coffee before Shemei gestured at the monitor on Eric's desk. "So, what's got you so engrossed that you're forgetting to take a drink?"

"Remember a while back when you and I were looking through some files from one of my contacts?" Eric asked.

"We do that a lot, dear," Shemei pointed out, "You're going to have to narrow things down a bit for me."

Eric scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, right. It was shortly before the war kicked off. My contact with ZAFT's Budget Committee had sent over the planned ship construction figures for the year."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," Shemei murmured as she tapped her chin in thought, "Wait a second… there was a disconnect between the construction figures and the actual shipyard work orders, right? They had the budget padded out with new construction orders that they could not possibly fit into the existing shipyard schedule; there just wasn't enough slipway space for them all."

Eric nodded. "Good memory. Remember what the likely explanation for that disconnect was?"

Shemei's eyes narrowed. "Yeah… you said it was an accounting trick. ZAFT inflated the orders so that they could hide whatever they were really doing with the money. They pulled the same stunt during the last war when they built GENESIS, didn't they?"

"That's right," said Eric before gesturing at the screen, "Take a look at this."

Shemei did so, and Eric had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen in disbelief. "What the hell? Five Gondwana-class carriers, seven Orizaba-class carrier/dreadnoughts, Hel-class cruisers in the triple digits, enough Nazca-class destroyers to make a new asteroid belt… did ZAFT go and conquer the Alliance's L2 shipyards when we weren't looking? L5 doesn't have nearly the building capacity for these orders; the listed figures for the Gondwana-class alone would stretch the shipyard personnel and resources to their breaking point, for both the military and civilian yards."

"My thoughts exactly," Eric replied, "These updated figures came through a couple of weeks ago, but with all that's been going on I haven't had time to properly look them over until now."

Shemei patted him on the head. "We need to get you some more staff. Your brilliant head can't be in all the files we receive at once, you know?"

Eric chuckled before nodding at the screen. "Tell me about it. Anyway, as you've no doubt noticed, this is a substantial jump from the figures we were looking at before the war started."

"No kidding," Shemei muttered under her breath, "I mean, I can understand new wartime construction orders being put in, but with these figures… ZAFT's acting like they're the Americans way back in World War Two, and I'm pretty sure they're not. Even if they had the ambition to aim that high, they just don't have enough shipyards to accommodate all these orders, and that's not even getting into financial or resource capacity. Patrick Zala's old program put out one hell of a fleet, but it wrecked the PLANTs economy; I remember hearing that they'd only just gotten back on their feet earlier this year, and that was before a whole new war kicked off. A lot of the old military infrastructure was forced to convert over to civilian ship production due to the treaty limitations and so they could sell vessels in the export market to help get L5's finances back on track, and it would take a while to retool those yards back over to building new warships for ZAFT. Even after the shift, pulling off all these orders in the timeframe they've laid out… it just can't be done. We didn't miss any big action up in space where they conquered L2 or L3, did we? Or maybe Durandal has secret shipyards that we don't know about?"

Eric shook his head. "No. The Alliance's L2 shipyards are defended by the second largest Atlantic Federation fleet in outer space; only the lunar perimeter forces are larger. ZAFT would have to throw a massive chunk of its orbital fighting against it to even stand a chance at winning, and losses would be so heavy that you could only call any win a Pyrrhic victory at best. As for L3, while Orb's space forces aren't as impressive quantitatively as those of the Alliance, they've arguably got a qualitative edge. Four Izumo-class battleships will have that effect, and their supporting fleets are formidable, too. Long story short, the buildup required for ZAFT to take on L3, let alone L2, would be impossible for my intelligence sources to miss. As for the secret shipyard theory, I have no doubt that there are black yards kept off the books and away from prying eyes, but those are usually for building and testing prototypes rather than entire fleets. You could maybe pool their labor and resources to crank out some extra flotillas, but not on the scale that the Budget Committee figures here are indicating."

Eric saw his wife's brow furrow. "It's more padding in the budget then, isn't it? Whatever ZAFT was working on before the war started must require more funding and resources than they initially projected. That's why the Budget Committee updated its figures. Since they're now officially at war, it's actually easier for them to disguise where the funds are actually going under the pretext of building up the fleet and replacing combat losses."

Eric smiled in pride; Shemei's main claim to fame might be that of an ace pilot, but she had a sharp mind as well, and it always pleased him to see her put it to work. "Yeah, that's where my mind was going, too. Some of the new figures are probably genuine; if I had to guess, I'd say the focus on ramping up production of Nazca-class destroyers and Hel-class cruisers is partially legit since those ships will be easier to pump out than behemoths like the Gondwana and Orizaba-class vessels. Even then, though, the Nazca and Hel-class figures are almost certainly inflated. They'll definitely be increasing production, but not to the extent that the Budget Committee's numbers indicate."

"Then where's all that extra cash going?" asked Shemei, "Are we really any closer to figuring that out?"

"Just a little bit," said Eric as he closed the current file and opened a new one, "Here, check this out."

Shemei leaned forward as she studied the new lines of text that appeared on the screen. "Awful lot of names here. Can't say any of them are ringing any bells, though. Help a girl out, dear?"

"It's a list of prominent scientists and engineers who worked for ZAFT in the past," Eric answered, "Many of them were involved to some degree or another in the GENESIS project. After the war, there were some people who wanted them tried as war criminals, but since the work was so compartmentalized many of the people involved in the project didn't realize what they were actually building until near completion. By then, of course, it was far too late for any of them to claim crisis of conscience and back out."

"If any of them had tried, Patrick Zala's goons would've killed them," Shemei murmured, "Keeping GENESIS top secret would've been the highest priority, so silencing dissenting voices through lethal means undoubtedly came with the territory. Maybe some of them were enthusiastic about the project, but I'm willing to bet that a good chunk of them were only doing the work because they had a metaphorical or literal gun to their heads. I wouldn't put it past Zala's regime threatening their families as an insurance policy."

Eric winced; given Shemei's personal experience with Patrick Zala's regime during the last war, he knew just how sore of a spot that was for her. "Yeah, it would've been par for the course. Still, coerced or voluntary, the fact remains that none were ever put on trial for their involvement in the GENESIS project. Part of that was due to inability to prove malicious intent due to the compartmentalization of the work, but there was also another, unspoken reason."

"Let me guess," said Shemei, "Their knowledge and talents were viewed as just too useful to let them rot away behind bars."

Eric nodded. "Bingo. Ever since the last war, I've had my network try to keep tabs on the parties involved in GENESIS. It wasn't too hard; most of them went back to previous occupations, and a lot of them published articles on the civilian research circuit which made them even easier to track. However, after this new war kicked off, a lot of them stopped publishing… and disappeared altogether."

"Which can only mean that ZAFT has them working on something top secret again," Shemei surmised.

"It's the most logical conclusion," Eric concurred, "Along with veterans of the GENESIS project, a lot of new up-and-coming talent has dropped off the grid as well. Whatever Durandal has them working on, it seems to be more than just reconstructing their old weapon."

"What fields are the newcomers involved in?" asked Shemei.

"Heavy engineering and energy science," Eric answered, "with major emphasis on asteroid mining and construction, large-scale propulsion, and positron manipulation amongst others. Durandal has something big cooking behind the scenes, Shemei."

"And we're barely any closer to figuring out what it is," muttered Shemei, "Wasn't DaCosta supposed to be leading an investigation out at Mendel? We got any updates from him?"

"According to Andrew and Aisha, transmissions from the Mendel expedition have been limited to low-data burst packets bounced through the old satellite relay system that we set up during the last war," Eric replied, "They can't put too much information in those transmissions without upping the energy and data storage involved, and that increases the risks of detection and interception. Stealth is vital to DaCosta's mission, so a full report will have to wait until his group's reunited with the Eternal. Still, from what Andrew's been hinting at, it seems DaCosta found something out there. They're still studying on site; they want a full understanding of their discovery before they return. Andrew and Aisha both agree on this much; DaCosta's last few transmissions have indicated an unusual level of excitement on his part. Whatever he's got, it could be big."

Shemei sighed. "I hope Martin's group doesn't push their luck out there. Armory One's just beyond the edge of the L4 debris field, and it's not out of the question for ZAFT to dispatch patrols into the rubble. Part of the force that attacked Armory One used the debris field for cover according to Heero's report, remember?"

Eric nodded. "Yeah, I do. Martin knows what he's doing, and the crew operating with him is no group of slouches, either. They're well aware that the longer they stay out there, the greater the risk of detection becomes. If they haven't pulled out yet, it's because they think the risk is worth the reward."

Shemei shook her head and let out a deep exhalation. "Oh, Martin… you're making one hell of a gamble here. I sure hope you don't come up snake-eyes."

"That makes two of us," Eric murmured.

Be careful out there, Martin, Eric thought, I need every piece I can get to solve this puzzle Durandal's laid out for us, and you could have the most important one of all in your hands for all I know.

….

"Well, this isn't good," Cagalli muttered as she stood behind Murrue's desk, her gaze fixed on the monitor.

Hearing the door to her office slide open, Murrue looked up and nodding in greeting as Heero entered. "Thanks for coming here so quickly. Sorry to interrupt your training, but this couldn't wait."

"You did say it was urgent," Heero replied, "What's going on?"

Murrue gestured at Major Gardinier, who was standing to the right of the Captain's desk. "Our friends in the Eurasian Federation have picked up some troubling Atlantic Federation naval activity in the Pacific, and it has the potential to throw a wrench into our plans for Orb if we don't deal with it properly."

"Eurasian Federation satellites and drone recon from our own Pacific Fleet have detected movement from the Atlantic Federation's forces in that ocean," Sibylle elaborated, "When Terminal attacked the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet in both the field and at their naval bases in Pearl Harbor and San Diego near the start of the war, the enemy naturally pulled back most of its surviving fleet units in a panic to shore up their defenses, leaving only a handful of task forces and flotillas forwardly deployed. From what we have been able to pick up, it seems that those forward task forces are set to be joined by some of the units that were previously withdrawn for defense."

"Do we know where they'll be converging?" asked Heero, "Or are these various groups being deployed to separate parts of the Pacific? Perhaps near both Orb and the Eurasian Federation's eastern coast?"

"Based on imagery provided by both satellites and aerial recon drones, our forces have been able to extrapolate rough vectors for the various Atlantic Federation naval units," the Frenchwoman answered, "While these ships could always change heading, as of right now they are roughly on course to converge on coordinates to the northeast of the Orb Union's territorial waters. It will be several days yet before they all reach the estimated point. Like I said before, though; this is only based on their current trajectories."

Heero nodded before turning to Murrue. "Understood. What do you make of this?"

"If they do stay on course and converge beyond Orb's borders," Murrue began as her brow furrowed, "then my take is that this force is meant as both intimidation and support for Unato Seiran. He and his loyalists have a very tenuous grip on power according to our contacts within Orb itself, and civil dissent against his rule and alliance with the Atlantic Federation is only continuing to grow. I think that the Atlantic Federation is moving these forces into position so that they can help Unato's loyalists and PMCs crush local opposition… or perhaps to threaten Unato into taking harsher measures in order to avoid his benefactors stepping in to seize direct control over Orb."

Murrue then let out a deep exhalation, and a dark look came to her eyes as she met Heero's gaze. "Long story short, it looks like a repeat of what the Atlantic Federation pulled in Europe, and we all know how that played out."

"Yeah," Heero murmured, and Murrue was sure that his mind was flashing back to Berlin, "we definitely do. I wonder if Unato realizes what kind of 'help' he's likely to get… or if he even cares at this point."

"I don't think it matters either way," Murrue remarked, "The Seirans might have served the Atlantic Federation's interests well during the early days of the war, but between Yuna getting the First Fleet decimated and Unato slowly losing his grip on Orb itself, they haven't exactly covered themselves in glory as of late. The Atlantic Federation may well be looking to replace their puppet ruler, or simply reduce him to a ceremonial figurehead while they put one of their own stooges in direct control of Orb. We can only guess right now."

"If these forces are meant to converge on Orb," Cagalli chimed in, "we must drive them off. I won't let the Atlantic Federation subject my country to another invasion."

"We all feel the same way," Murrue reassured her, "How we go about it, though, is something of a tricky matter."

Heero nodded, and Murrue could sense the gears in his head spinning. "We might end up fighting them at the same time as we're pulling of your restoration, depending on how things shake out. Do we have rough estimates on what the combined force might consist of?"

"Approximately," Major Gardinier confirmed, "The chief threat comes from the four Spengler-class carriers which have been spotted so far. Right now, they're split apart into two pairs, but when they converge, they'll have a combined total of sixty mobile suits between them. Apart from that, Eurasian Federation satellites and Navy recon drones count around thirty destroyers and perhaps a dozen cruisers."

Cagalli's brow furrowed. "Something feels off about that. Orb still has its Second and Third Fleets operating in our territorial waters. Individually, they might not be as powerful as the First Fleet, but together they're still more than a match for this Atlantic Federation force."

"It might be all that the Atlantic Federation can scrape together in the Pacific," Murrue pointed out, "Remember, we put quite the hurt on their Pacific naval forces when the war kicked off. I know it feels like forever's gone by, but in fact it's only been a few months since the start of the conflict. Atlantic Federation shipyards are efficient when they're running on all cylinders, but even they can't pump out new warships that quickly, especially capital ships. This force could be all that they're comfortable deploying in a forward capacity out here. We've already proven that we can hit both Pearl Harbor and the Atlantic Federation mainland, so whatever fleet units remaining in the Pacific outside this force may be held back for defense."

"That's Moscow's assessment as well," Major Gardinier concurred, "The deployment of this force seems to be an act of desperation on the Atlantic Federation's part. Given that Unato is viewed widely as a weak leader, the notion that a fleet of this size can cow him into continued obedience despite the force strength still available to the Orb Union Navy is not without merit. It's as much a bluff as it is a threat, and one that may well work."

Cagalli sighed. "That's true. Unato's not a military man, so he wouldn't take into account the strength of Orb's remaining fleets versus the one that the Atlantic Federation's sending his way, regardless of what the Orb Union Navy's leaders might tell him. All he'll see is Atlantic Federation ships parking outside his borders, with the implied threat of more on the horizon. Combine that with what's been happening in Europe, and I can see him calling up his masters in North America promising them just about anything."

"Which could include straight up giving Atlantic Federation forces operating rights on Orb territory itself," Heero theorized, "If that were to happen, it'd be all too easy for D.C. to hold Orb's civilian population hostage."

"Something we must avoid at all costs," said Murrue, "The question is how, though."

"Can't we just launch a long-range strike?" asked Cagalli, "I know it'd be quite the flight, but our nuclear-powered machines can pull it off. Heero, you and the others have flown further for operations in the past, right?"

Heero nodded, and Murrue saw his eyes narrow. "We have, and we could do it again. If Major Gardinier's correct, it sounds like the fleet's still split up into separate flotillas and task forces right now, which means picking them off piecemeal is theoretically possible. That'd normally be the best way to deal with them, but a strike on one group would indicate to the others that we know they're coming and could convince the others to flee for home."

"That's fine, though," Cagalli argued, "Whether they're all sunk or retreat, as long as it keeps them away from Orb, nothing else matters."

"I'm not so sure about that," Heero murmured as he looked towards Murrue.

Murrue immediately grasped what Heero was getting at. "Getting them to retreat is all well and good, but this also represents a unique opportunity for us. The Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet was hammered severely at the start of the war, so the forces they're deploying now are amongst the last that the enemy feels they can use for offensive operations on this side of the globe. If we could destroy the entire fleet, it would remove the Atlantic Federation entirely as a naval threat to Orb. They'd have to redeploy their fleets in the Atlantic Ocean to compensate, and they can't afford to do so now since the Eurasian Federation Navy is on the move out there."

"And if they did become desperate enough to redeploy eastern forces to the west," Heero added, "it would weaken their naval strength in the Atlantic, giving the Eurasian Federation Navy greater room for maneuver. It would also take considerable time for forces from the Atlantic to make it all the way out to the western Pacific, and with Eurasian Federation intelligence assets now reporting to us it would be all but impossible for the Atlantic Federation naval units to make that journey without us being informed of it. Either way, it's a win-win for us."

"Eliminating the last of the Atlantic Federation's forward deployed units in the Pacific would also give the Eurasian Federation naval forces on this side of the world more operational freedom," Major Gardinier chimed in, "Yes, the Republic of East Asia has its navy and is still officially part of the Earth Alliance, but they've been keeping their fleet units close to home for most of this conflict. Beijing sees its navy as a secondary force in any case; they've always been a land-based power, so for them priority defense spending goes to their army and supporting aerial units. Unless the Republic of East Asia suddenly decides to show an aggressiveness that they've lacked since the start of the war, destruction of Atlantic Federation fleet units in the western Pacific would leave Eurasia, Orb and ZAFT as the principal naval powers in the region."

"At least until the Atlantic Federation shipyards kick into high gear," Murrue muttered.

Major Gardinier smiled. "That may not end up being the threat that you think it is, Captain Ramius. Moscow's liaisons with the North American resistance indicate that they have taken this into account, and one of the operations they have in the work is a sabotage campaign against the major Atlantic Federation shipyards. While they've been tight on the details and aren't promising a complete shutdown on production or maintenance, the impression my superiors give me suggests that they will be able to put a considerable crimp into new naval construction. Our window of superiority at sea may stay open quite a bit longer than you think, especially with Eurasian Federation naval yards now shifting over to wartime construction in earnest."

Murrue nodded. "If that is indeed the case, then it makes catching these last active fleet units in the field all the more important. The sooner we can outright eliminate them or damage them so severely that they must withdraw, the better it is for us in not just the short-term, but potentially mid to long-term as well."

Cagalli took a deep breath. "I don't know. I mean, I definitely see the benefits here, but still… I don't like the idea of letting the Atlantic Federation bring these fleet units together so close to Orb before we strike them. I'd almost rather play it safe and have us hit their squadrons at sea before they're all in one place. Sure, it means more are likely to retreat and live to fight another day, but it keeps them from converging near my homeland and posing a threat to my people."

"Only in the short-term," Heero countered, "I understand your concerns, Cagalli, but let's be reasonable; the Atlantic Federation's behavior throughout this war has been characterized by extreme aggression and taking coercive measures towards those they see as their allies. Even if their shipyards end up sabotaged, it's entirely possible that survivors from their forward fleet units will simply be reinforced by whatever ships the Atlantic Federation are keeping back at home for defense. They could simply decide to go for broke and throw every last naval asset they have at Orb once they see Unato ousted from power. Look at how they treated Europe; they planned an entire campaign of putting major cities to the torch just because the Eurasian Federation was half-hearted in supporting the Earth Alliance war effort, and they're still throwing men and resources at the continent despite the heavy losses that they've taken since open hostilities commenced. How do you think they'll react when Orb returns to your leadership and openly defies them?"

Murrue met Cagalli's gaze. "I sympathize with your fears, Cagalli, but we have to face the truth; the Atlantic Federation poses both a short and long-term threat to Orb. Forcing their fleet units to retreat is all well and good, but the enemy's more than likely to simply regroup and come back with reinforcements. This is your homeland that we're talking about, so I'll leave the decision as to how we proceed here up to you. No matter what you decide, we will support your choice. Know this, though; the more of the enemy's naval strength that escapes, the harder they'll likely strike back in the future. Allowing those fleet units to converge is a risk, and no one here will deny that. However, it also gives us a chance to inflict maximal losses and reduce the future threat."

Cagalli was quiet for several long seconds before she eventually nodded. "Alright, then. It's not the way that I'd prefer to handle this situation, but I understand what you're getting at. Murrue, Heero… we'll do it your way. What's the plan?"

Murrue turned to Major Gardinier. "How soon can Moscow move its Pacific Fleet into position?"

Sibylle smiled. "I'll request that the fleet begin making its way towards Orb as soon as our meeting here is through. It should be a few days before they're within operational range. We'll be cutting it a bit close, but I believe they'll arrive on time. As a bonus, our friends in the North American resistance have assets moving into the region as well; a mixed force of both Sicario units and their own ships. They should be showing up in or around Orb territorial waters at about the same time, and we could potentially use them as a reserve."

"I hope you're right," said Heero before turning to Cagalli, "Depending on how it all comes together, we may well end up launching this operation close to or at the same time as your restoration, and we can't have you on the front lines at such a crucial moment. It's best if we divide our forces accordingly, and if the Archangel is going to take part in intercepting and attacking the Atlantic Federation fleet, then that means you can't be on it, Cagalli."

"Hold on just a second!" Cagalli protested, "That fleet's a threat to my people, and I'm going to fight it!"

"No, you're not," Murrue firmly interjected, "You're needed on the political side of things now, Cagalli, not the martial. When the time comes, we'll divide our forces. The Archangel and Chimaera will work together with the Eurasian Federation Pacific Fleet to eliminate the threat from the combined Atlantic Federation naval units. The Dominion will take on the role of command ship and coordinate the efforts behind your restoration, Cagalli, which means you and the Strike Rouge will be transferred to it. I'll inform Natarle of the change in plans as soon as we're wrapped up here. She will work with the loyalists within Orb along with whatever assets the North American resistance is able to bring into play to neutralize Unato's forces and clear the way for you to take power. Some of the details may change as dictated by whatever new intel we receive between now and then, but your role in the operation will not, Cagalli. You are not taking to the battlefield this time, Cagalli. That is not up for negotiation."

Cagalli looked for a moment like she might press the issue, but she eventually relented with a reluctant sigh. "Fine. It's for the best, I suppose. Where I'm needed most… even if I don't like it."

"A proper leader is rarely supposed to enjoy the job," Heero pointed out, "That doesn't diminish the duty you have to your people. When we take Unato down, the people of Orb will be looking to you for guidance and hope during a very confusing and dangerous time. It's your responsibility to give them that, and we will be right behind you every step of the way."

Cagalli nodded, and Murrue was relieved to see her smile. "Well, if that's the plan, then we'd better get to work on refining it. We don't have too much time left until we're in Orb territorial waters, after all."

"A few more days at most now," Murrue concurred sagely, "and I suspect that they'll go by all too quickly."

….

December 17th, C.E. 73

Leaning forward to make sure she still had the correct frequency active, Meyrin reached out to Athrun. "Destiny, this is the Minerva. Do you copy?"

"Copy, Minerva," came Athrun's reply as he appeared on her screen after a brief delay.

The raggedness of his breath was audible, and she could see the sweat matting his brow even through his helmet's visor, confirming Meyrin's suspicions as to how hard Athrun had been pushing himself during today's flight trials. "Come on back to the ship, Athrun. You've put in more than enough time for one session."

"I can do more," Athrun protested, though the weariness in his voice was impossible to miss, "It's only been a few hours."

"Which is plenty," Meyrin pushed back before glancing over her shoulder, "Right, Captain?"

Talia nodded. "It is. Return to the ship, Athrun. That's an order."

Meyrin turned back to her console. "Did you hear that, Athrun?"

Athrun sighed. "I did. On my way back now."

Meyrin offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "You did well today, Athrun. There's no harm in taking some rest. You're flight testing a new prototype mobile suit with a specialized propulsion system; it's only natural for it to take a lot out of you. You'll get the hang of it. I know you will."

Athrun nodded, and Meyrin thought she caught just a hint of a smile beneath his helmet visor. "Thanks, Meyrin. Destiny, out."

Meyrin was honestly impressed that Athrun had lasted so long. Since she was monitoring the Destiny's flight trials, her console was linked up with the mobile suit to monitor data from machine and pilot alike, and Athrun's vital signs had been no small point of concern for her. The extreme speeds that the Destiny could achieve even in atmosphere would put incredible strain on any pilot, even one as skilled and seasoned as Athrun. More than a few times during the session, Athrun had seen Athrun's vitals get dangerously close to what her system considered a redline, and she'd been tempted to call him back early.

I hope this new machine doesn't kill him, Meyrin thought, I don't know if any other mobile suit can match the Destiny's speed. Well, maybe the Gundam Albion can. I remember its propulsion systems created a similar light trail effect to what we saw today with the Destiny, and Heero could really make that Gundam move in a hurry. He never seemed bothered by the strain, but he's probably used to those speeds. Athrun… are you going to be okay?

Adjusting her monitor so she could access the video feeds from the battleship's external visual sensors along with those of the DINNs that had been tasked with observing the Destiny's flight trials, Meyrin watched as the mobile suit approached the Minerva. The warship was still laid up in dock undergoing repairs, but the Destiny and Legend had already been transferred to her, and they could at least fly in and out of the battleship without causing too much disruption for Gibraltar's work crews. Speaking of the Legend, Meyrin could see Rey's mobile suit in the distance still going through maneuvers. Since the Legend didn't have the same Voiture Lumiere propulsion system as the Destiny, it couldn't achieve the same level of raw speed as Athrun's new machine, so it made sense that Rey was still in shape to keep flying when his more experienced colleague needed a break.

Studying Athrun's prototype, Meyrin could not help but be suitably impressed. The machine's Variable Phase Shift Armor was programmed in a primarily white and blue pattern, while red trim adorned the sides of the torsos and was the main color of the wings, though their connecting joints were black. A yellow V-shaped crest crowned the Gundam's head, reminding Meyrin somewhat of the Impulse, though the Destiny's crest only had two prongs versus the four of what was now Heine's mobile suit. The color scheme likewise reminded Meyrin of the Impulse, though she could not help but feel that the Destiny possessed a bigger sense of presence than the older Armory One Prototype, if that made any sort of sense for a mobile suit.

Of course, the mobile suit's appearance meant little next to its arsenal, and the Destiny Gundam was packing some serious heat. Stowed away on the mobile suit's rear waist armor after having put in a good showing of precision shooting by Athrun's hand was the MA-BAR73/S high energy beam rifle, an improved version of the rifle utilized by the Impulse Gundam that possessed superior firepower thanks to the fact that it drew upon the Destiny's hyper-deuterion engine, a hybrid powerplant consisting of a nuclear reactor and the Deuterion Beam Energy Transfer System pioneered on the Armory One prototypes. Said powerplant was protected from countermeasures by an N-Jammer Canceller, ensuring that the Destiny Gundam would enjoy a consistent energy supply. Stored on the left side of the Destiny's backpack was an M2000GX high-energy long-range beam cannon, which had been developed from the Blast Impulse's M2000F Kerberos cannons and was the most powerful ranged weapon in the mobile suit's arsenal, supposedly capable of one-shotting most warships. Slung on the right side of the unit's backpack was an MMI-714 Arondight beam sword, an evolution of the Sword Impulse's MMI-710 anti-ship sword. That wasn't the weapon that the Destiny had taken from the Sword Impulse, for stored on its shoulders were two RQM60F Flash-Edge 2 beam boomerangs. Built into the palms of the mobile suit's hands were two MMI-X340 Palma Fiocina beam cannons, a new weapon that was meant for use in close-range combat situations where the larger Arondight sword might prove too unwieldy. Rounding out the armaments was a humble pair of MMI-GAU26 17.5 mm CIWS mounted on the Destiny's head for use against lighter targets and incoming missiles.

They basically took the best features of all three Silhouette packs and crammed them all onto a single frame, Meyrin mused, and then added a few new toys onto the mix. Amazing what you can do when you power a machine with a nuclear reactor… and violate a treaty. Then again, the Atlantic Federation started this war by trying to nuke us, so the Treaty of Junius Seven is a dead letter now.

She had seen Athrun put the Destiny's formidable arsenal to good use in the training exercise. Squadrons of training drones designed for live-fire drills had been launched from Gibraltar for both the Destiny and Legend to contend with, and Athrun had demonstrated the versatility and firepower of the Destiny in quick and brutal fashion. Meyrin had watched in awe as he'd picked off drones almost casually with the unit's beam rifle before swapping over to the much heavier M2000GX beam cannon and wiped out a flight of them with one shot. He'd also proven to be equally proficient with the Destiny's beam boomerangs, letting fly with them one after another and taking out multiple targets with each toss. The Arondight sword and Palma Fiocinas had gotten comparatively little use given the nature of the targets involved in today's exercise, but Athrun had employed them briefly to demonstrate that they did indeed function as advertised. Including the CIWS in the session seemed almost superfluous, yet Athrun had made sure to down at least one drone with them to prove their viability.

It wasn't just the Destiny's offensive capabilities that had been demonstrated during the exercise, either. Though the design placed most of its emphasis on hitting opponents hard and fast, the Destiny was not without defensive options. The Variable Phase Shift Armor was the most obvious one, and thanks to the hyper-deuterion engine serving as the Gundam's powerplant that advanced protection system now had much greater longevity when compared to that which was found on the Armory One models, not counting deuterion beam recharges from the Minerva. Apart from that, the Destiny had an anti-beam coated shield mounted on its left arm, one that had an advantage over previous models by having both a compact and expanded form. That physical shield wasn't the only barrier which the Destiny could utilize, though. Far more interesting in Meyrin's eyes than either the expandable shield or the Variable Phase Shift Armor were the MX2351 Solidus Fulgor beam shield generators, which could be found on the back of the Gundam's hands. Though the generators themselves appeared quite plain, housed as they were in reinforced armored sections that looked like splotches of yellow plate against blue when the Destiny's Variable Phase Shift Armor was activated, the shimmering barriers that they could create were really something special. Meyrin had seen Athrun utilize them during the exercise, generating roughly diamond-shaped walls of violet-white light to tank rounds fired off by the drones. She could only imagine what they'd be capable of blocking when the machine took to the battlefield for real.

Those defensive measures would only come into play should the Destiny be at risk of taking a hit, and hitting the mobile suit would be a challenge even for the most experienced of pilots. In addition to its main thrusters and maneuvering jets, the Destiny possessed a Voiture Lumiere Propulsion System. Installed in the Gundam's wings, from what Meyrin understood it utilized an internal laser which then had its energy converted into a powerful light wave which provided thrust. The effect generated by the system was colloquially known as 'Wings of Light', which Meyrin had seen manifested in the form of two sheets of crimson-violet energy sprouting out from behind the mobile suit. 'Wings of Light' was very much an appropriate moniker in her opinion, and the levels of agility they had allowed Athrun to achieve in the flight trials had been astounding to behold. At times, Meyrin had only been able to perceive the Destiny as barely more than a streak of light racing across the sky, something she had only seen previously from the Gundam Albion and the crimson demon-like mobile suit that was known to be piloted by ZAFT's former Valkyrie. As if that weren't enough, the Voiture Lumiere was augmented by a Mirage Colloid system. Unlike previous incarnations of the Mirage Colloid, which had been used to render mobile suits and much larger weapons invisible to both sensors and the naked eye, this version spread its particles when the 'Wings of Light' were activated and created a trail of after-images in the Destiny's wake. Though those images didn't seem to have any effect on the automated training drones, Meyrin had no doubt that they would confuse the hell out of any human unfortunate enough to go up against the Destiny and therefore make the prototype even more difficult to land a shot on.

Hopefully it'll be a while before the Destiny gets shot at for real, thought Meyrin, Athrun needs more time to get used to the machine. Sure, it's powerful and well-protected, but its speed is just as dangerous to the pilot as it is to the enemy.

Come to think of it, Meyrin realized that the speed might also be dangerous for the mobile suit's internal components and systems. Just because the Destiny had been designed for such extreme agility and maneuverability didn't mean that those who had conceived and built it necessarily had covered all their bases; it was possible that key parts or electronics might not have been as securely mounted or protected from such force and velocity as they should've been. There was always a difference between the drawing board, flights in space and atmospheric exercises, after all.

Thankfully, Meyrin could do more from her station than simply admire the Destiny's appearance, armaments and other technological bells and whistles. Since she was charged with monitoring both Athrun and Rey's machines during the exercise, her console had been given access to the systems of both units so she could monitor them for potential malfunctions. As Athrun carefully lined up the Destiny for the final landing approach, Meyrin ran through a remote system diagnostic and review to make sure that everything was still working properly. Her eyes moved rapidly back and forth as she studied the various results. She was relieved to see that most of the listed items were still in the green, with only a few flashing red indicating that they were suffering some form of failure. Meyrin flagged those items and made a list of them as she worked her way through the results; she would pass them along to the mechanics and technicians charged with servicing the Destiny once she had them all accounted for.

One of those systems which had apparently suffered a breakdown stood out to Meyrin more than the others. Leaning slightly closer to her console, Meyrin's eyes narrowed as she read the line of text; it was labeled 'remote override and recovery system.' Isolating it, she searched the data that she'd been given on the Destiny prior to the exercise for more information; she couldn't recall any mobile suit having this sort of system and was curious as to the details on it. Meyrin got the results she was searching for a few seconds later. If she was understanding the technical jargon in the files correctly, apparently the system in question was tied to a beacon that was separate from the typical search and rescue beacons all mobile suits possessed, and it was supposed to allow the mobile suit to be taken control of from a distance. A signal could be sent out from a designated base or warship, and upon receiving that signal a deep-seated subroutine within the Destiny's operating system would activate, taking control of the mobile suit and compelling the machine to return to wherever the signal had been sent from without any sort of input from the pilot.

Something about that system gave Meyrin pause. Mobile suits were already incredibly complex machines for humans to control, though outstanding progress in operating systems had been made quite quickly over the rapid evolution of the machines. Any sort of remote or automated operating system, even a rudimentary one meant only to recall a mobile suit back to its point of origin, would be very difficult to implement. Of course, Meyrin knew that she wasn't privy to the latest and greatest developments in ZAFT mobile suit research, so for all she knew great strides had been made in that area. This was the first time she'd seen such a system on a mobile suit that was now operating from a major forward operating base, though. Was ZAFT using the Destiny as a test case? If that were the case, why? Wouldn't it be better to trial such a system on a simpler design like a GINN or DINN first rather than something as insanely complex and sophisticated as the Destiny?

The reasons behind such a decision were largely academic, though. Whoever had made the call was obviously way above Meyrin's paygrade, after all. The benefits of such a system were obvious, chief of which being that if a pilot was incapacitated during a battle but the machine was still operational then the mobile suit could be recovered along with the injured pilot. It would also be useful if a pilot was trying to find their way back to their ship in foggy conditions, with the recovery system being activated once the mobile suit in question was in range so that the final stretch home could be done via autopilot. Yet Meyrin also realized that the system could just as well be used towards another end altogether; to force a pilot back to ship if he or she was disobeying orders.

Meyrin's eyes narrowed as she pondered that potential function. The Destiny's current pilot was a man who, while being one of ZAFT's most famous pilots, was also known as a high-profile defector from that very same organization. Officially, his defection was lauded by ZAFT now since Athrun had gone on to fight against what was quite clearly a regime hell-bent on a genocide campaign, and Meyrin was a firm believer that he had done the right thing. Yet she still had the presence of mind to consider such a scenario from the perspective of Athrun's new superiors, and she wasn't sure what to think of it. She wanted to believe that she was fighting for a new ZAFT, not the organization that had threatened the entire world with GENESIS but one that sought only to defend the Coordinator people and restore peace to the Earth Sphere, and Meyrin believed that Athrun was fighting under similar ideals. Surely, there would be no cause for him to defect now.

And yet…

…could she really be so sure?

The failed Operation: Angel Down wasn't far from Meyrin's mind. The crew of the Minerva had been called upon to fight those who had, not all that long ago, aided them in battle. None of them had wanted that confrontation, and that had gone double for Athrun since it meant that ZAFT was targeting his friends. Athrun had still gone after his designated target, though he'd been taken down quite quickly, which should have at least satisfied the higher-ups in ZAFT that he remained loyal. Even so…

Meyrin had been no fan of Operation: Angel Down. Given Athrun's ties to Terminal went much deeper than Meyrin's friendship with Duo, she could only imagine how he must have felt during that battle. However loyally he had served ZAFT so far in this war, surely the fact that they'd ordered him to attack his friends had to have shaken him. It had certainly rattled Meyrin.

Was there more to Athrun being assigned the Destiny than met the eye? Was it actually some kind of test for the famous pilot, or was Meyrin simply reading too much into things?

She dearly hoped it was the latter.

….

Popping open the Mercurius Kai's cockpit hatch, Yzak stepped out and wiped the sweat from his brow. As with seemingly every simulator session with Heero in command, Yzak and his fellow pilots had been put through the wringer. Not that he was complaining; practice sessions against overwhelming enemy numbers were certainly a good way to keep his skills sharp, and it helped prepare Termina's pilots for any encounter on the battlefield where the enemy had more forces at their disposal than intel had previously been indicated.

I doubt we'll end up in such a situation when we hit the Atlantic Federation fleet, he mused as he closed up his mobile suit and climbed down ladder descending from the maintenance and boarding catwalk, especially since this force is supposed to be the last remnants of their offensive naval strength in the Pacific. There shouldn't be any enemy reinforcements to worry about. Still, it's good to cover all our bases.

Looking out across the hangar floor, Yzak saw Dearka wave, and his former ZAFT comrade headed his way. The dark-skinned blond looked just as weary as Yzak, with sweat matting his forehead.

Yzak smirked as his friend drew near. "You look like shit."

"Look who's talking," Dearka shot back.

The two aces shared a chuckle before Dearka jerked his thumb in the direction of the pilots' ready room. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up. I shot a message to Miriallia when the last sim ended; she and Flay will be off shift soon, so they're down to meet up for dinner. You in?"

"Sure thing," Yzak replied, "Could use a good bite to eat. Any idea what the cooks are supposed to have on the menu for tonight?"

"I think Italian was the theme," Dearka answered, "Gotta love all the specialty foods the Eurasians stocked us with back in Moscow, right?"

Yzak smiled as the two of them headed off. "Yeah. Nice to have a bit more variety in our rations."

"Definitely," Dearka agreed, "Not that the food here's been bad before, but I'm not about to say 'no' to what our new friends gave us."

After washing up and changing into the standard Morgenroete garb of red and black shirts and dark pants, the two young men headed for the ship's mess hall. They found Flay and Miriallia waiting inside for them, and together the four of them dished up. Yzak's mouth was watering as he feasted his eyes on a spread of lasagna and hot bread sticks; he would be eating very well tonight.

"Damn, that smells great," Yzak muttered as he and his friends went over to a table at the far corner of the mess hall.

Sitting to his right, Flay gave him a warm smile. "It sounded like Heero was running you guys pretty hard down there. You must be famished."

Miriallia giggled as she watched Dearka waste no time in chowing down. "Someone clearly is."

"Hey, ish good shtuff!" Dearka replied through a mouthful of food.

Miriallia rolled her eyes before lightly punching him on the shoulder. "Manners, Dearka. Chew first, then talk."

The four of them spent the next few minutes putting a good dent into their servings. Yzak could already feel his weariness melt away as he savored the food and drink, though he was sure that a good food coma would set in before too long.

"So, how was training?" Flay eventually asked.

"Difficult," Yzak answered, "I can appreciate wanting to be ready for anything, but in that last exercise it felt like Heero had us up against every ship and mobile suit that the Atlantic Federation had left."

Dearka shook his head. "Talk about overkill."

"Better overkill than not enough," Miriallia countered, "I'd rather you guys be ready for the worst so you'll have better odds of surviving it."

"Fair," Dearka conceded.

Yzak chuckled. "And here I thought that our old flight instructors with ZAFT could be brutal. I bet they'd pass out halfway through the simulations we just went through."

Flay looked at Yzak with concern. "Are you tired? We can call it an early night if you need to rest."

Yzak shook his head, though he was touched by her concern. "I'm alright. I've got plenty of energy left for spending time with you before we turn in."

"This'll definitely help," Dearka remarked as he gestured at the food before taking another big bite.

"How were things up on the bridge today?" Yzak asked, "Did we miss anything while we were down in the hangar?"

"Not really," Miriallia replied, "Nothing that directly impacts the ship, at least."

Yzak raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"You know our liaison with the Eurasian Federation, Major Gardinier?" Flay elaborated, "She and her support staff operate on the bridge and in the Archangel's CIC, constantly monitoring updates from their superiors back in Moscow. The nice thing about being up there with them is that we get to hear a bunch of juicy stuff. It helps that the Major's friendly and easy to talk to. Anyway, it turns out that things have been getting interesting over in North America."

"What's going on?" asked Dearka.

"For starters, rioting's broken out in pretty much every major city within the Atlantic Federation," Miriallia answered.

The two former ZAFT pilots turned to each other, eyes widening in surprise. Just what exactly had they missed while training earlier?

"What the hell set that off?" Yzak eventually inquired.

"One of the Atlantic Federation's dirty little secrets got aired to the public," Flay explained, a dark look coming to her eyes, "From what we heard, they were operating a concentration camp down south in the former Mexico."

Yzak's head snapped back in shock. "Seriously?"

Flay nodded soberly. "Yeah… and it was full of kids. I guess they were children of the regime's political opponents, or just 'undesirables' in general. There wasn't anything like proper or safe housing for them. In those conditions… I can't imagine how many died before the place was uncovered and raided."

"Raided?" Dearka parroted, still clearly trying to process what he was hearing.

"It was a couple of days ago," said Miriallia, "although, from how the Major described it, I think it was more like a combined arms assault. The resistance really went all out on it. Mobile suits, helicopters, airborne infantry, the works. Even that merc group of theirs, Sicario, got in on the action."

Yzak whistled. "Damn."

"Yeah, it was really something else," Flay chimed in softly, "From what we heard, it sounds like they got all the kids out… the ones who managed to survive long enough for the raid to happen, anyway. What they must've gone through… even if that place is behind them now, it's going to haunt them for the rest of their lives."

Dearka sighed. "They're going to have it rough. At least the worst is behind them, though."

"Hopefully," Miriallia concurred, "At least the resistance had the foresight to record what they found there; it'll come in handy when the time comes to prosecute the perpetrators of that nightmarish place."

"They're already making good use of the evidence," Flay noted, "Major Gardinier said that the resistance was able to leak it to sympathetic members of the press, and now it's public. That's what kicked off this new round of riots."

Yzak grimaced as he imagined the scenes unfolding across North America. "That mess should freak out the Atlantic Federation and distract them for a bit, but… well, I don't want to think of how hard their security forces are going to crack down."

"No kidding," Dearka murmured, "It's going to get ugly over there."

Miriallia let out a heavy exhalation. "I wish we could help them out, but we're going to have our hands full between the fleet attack and the Orb operation."

"The resistance is supposed to have quite a bit of firepower now, right?" Yzak pointed out, "If this is all happening in their homeland, then can't they move to confront the security forces and keep them off the protestors?"

"According to the Major, they're trying to do just that," Flay replied, "I think she said something about them having allies in the various law enforcement agencies, so it looks like the Atlantic Federation no longer has complete control over its internal security forces now. That should help, at least."

"Right up until the regime goes full Berlin on them," Dearka grimly remarked.

Yzak winced as memories of what the Atlantic Federation had done to the old German capital before Terminal's response group had arrived flashed through his mind. "They wouldn't pull the same crap on their own home turf… would they?"

"I wish that I could confidently say they wouldn't," Miriallia answered with a dark look, "but anything and everything seems to be on the table for them these days."

"Maybe it always was," Flay noted, her voice barely more than a haunted whisper as it trailed off, "Maybe it was always this monster. Even back then…"

Yzak placed a concerned hand on her shoulder. "Flay? You okay?"

His girlfriend stared off into space for a long moment, her mind clearly somewhere else. "Yzak… I told you before who my father was, right?"

Yzak was a bit taken aback, and he needed a couple of seconds to get his bearings. "I… I think so. It was quite some time ago… a former Vice-Minister within the Atlantic Federation."

Flay slowly nodded. "That's right."

"What's your late father have to do with this?" asked Miriallia.

"I didn't see Daddy very much, even before the last war," Flay remarked distantly, as if she was only barely aware of her friends' presence, "One night, he got home late from work. That happened a lot since he was so busy, and I was usually asleep most of the time. However, I'd really wanted to see him, so I only pretended to fall asleep that night. I was planning on surprising him that night. Give him a hug, tell him I missed him, that I loved him… all the stuff a good daughter's supposed to say to her father."

Yzak glanced at Miriallia, searching for some clue as to where this was going. He got nothing from her, though; she was focused purely on her friend, so if she had some hint as to why Flay was bringing this all up it was kept purely to herself.

"He was on his cellphone when he got home," Flay continued, "At the time, I didn't think much about who he might be talking to. Just like I'd planned, I waited until he came by my room, then threw the door open and hugged him. Mom was mad when she found out, but Daddy seemed happy about it. For a little while, anyway. As Mom took me back to my room, Daddy got back to his call. I… I heard him say…"

"Say what?" Yzak prodded.

Flay took a deep breath as she met his gaze. "He said… that 'they' would be judged soon, as would all who allowed them to exist… all who let the world be defiled. Those were his words, and… and how he ended the call... he said 'We'll end them all… and purify the world.'"

Silence fell across the table for several seconds before Miriallia broke it. "Flay… do remember exactly when this night was?"

"Not quite," Flay replied, "but… I know it was just a little bit before the war broke out. What I'm trying to get at with this is… this darkness within the Atlantic Federation that we've been fighting against… I always thought it was something that the war created, but I think that's wrong now. The war just slowly peeled the mask away from it, if that makes any sense."

"I'm not so sure about the 'slow' part," Dearka remarked, "It didn't take too long for the Atlantic Federation to fire a nuke at Junius Seven."

Flay looked down in guilt. "You're right."

Yzak put his arm around her. "That wasn't you, Flay."

Flay shook her head. "No, but Daddy… the stuff he said… there was a time when I thought a similar way. I didn't want it to go that far, but still… that doesn't really mean much, does it?"

"You pulled yourself back from the brink," Miriallia reminded her, "You didn't fully give in to hate. Not like so many others. You're not them, Flay."

"No," Flay murmured, "but I came close. If it weren't for all of you… I might've gone all the way."

"I don't believe that," Yzak pushed back, "Even back when you and I first met… I might not have understood your circumstances at the time, but still, I could tell that you were a decent person. You would never have fallen as far as so many of your countrymen did, Flay. I know it."

Flay eventually smiled, though it was shaky. "Yzak… thank you."

It was quiet for a minute or two before Dearka spoke. "Well, let's just hope that there are more people like you in the Atlantic Federation now than there were two years ago. Otherwise… well, when the regime puts the boot to the protestors, it's going to be a bloodbath."

"Major Gardinier seemed confident that the resistance could blunt the worst of it," said Miriallia, "All we can do now is trust that our allies over in North America are up to the challenge. We've got our own fights to deal with out here."

That we do, thought Yzak as he glanced at Flay to make sure she was alright, I don't know how this is all going to shake out in the end, so all I can do is focus on my part of things. On my part of the fight…

…and on protecting those who are behind me.

….

December 19th, C.E. 73

The brightly lit dressing room that Durandal currently occupied could easily have been mistaken for something out of a Hollywood studio. With the brightly lit mirrors, elaborate wardrobe, and makeup sets, one could be forgiven for forgetting that they were in the middle of ZAFT's Gibraltar base rather than some famed actor's room.

All the world's indeed a stage, Durandal mused as he studied his reflection in the mirror, and we are merely players, performers and portrayers. Politics is as much theater as statecraft, so it's only natural for the tools of the entertainment industry to have their use in my arena.

The aides who had been helping him prepare for his coming performance had left the room at Durandal's request. While they and a host of technicians ensured that the more technological aspects of the impending drama were ready to play their part, the PLANT Supreme Council Chairman was spending these precious few minutes of quiet in contemplation…

…and not alone, though he was the only physical occupant in the room.

"Well, well," said Creuset as his phantom materialized in Durandal's mind once more, "Going the extra mile, as it were. You really are nervous about this. I almost wondered if such a feeling was beyond you by now."

Durandal chuckled. "I must admit, I had doubted it myself for a little while. It's a relief to know that I still can. It means that I'm still human."

"A human fighting against the very nature of his species," Creuset replied with a smirk, "Here you are, about to take the stage in an attempt to nudge humanity further down the path of control… I almost pity you, old friend. The task that you've set before yourself is Sisyphean to the extreme."

"Hardly so futile," Durandal countered, "The road it requires me to walk is long and arduous, true enough, but I'm closer to my goal now than I was before. Today will bring it closer still."

"If your words can sway the world in the direction that you wish," Creuset pushed back, "and that's far from guaranteed."

"I don't need to sell the world on the plan itself today," Durandal pointed out, "My present objective is merely to show them the greatest current threat, and that ZAFT is the only power truly waging war against it."

"The Eurasian Federation and Terminal would beg to differ," Creuset quipped.

"Moscow's credibility is compromised by the fact that they went along with the Atlantic Federation and, by extension, LOGOS right up until they were betrayed," Durandal argued, "As for Terminal, they've hardly been a player in the public relations game. I have no need to win a debate with them today."

"Ah, but 'today' would be the operative word," said Creuset, "The reckoning will come sooner or later, and mankind may find her pure ideals far more enticing than your control. What will you do then?"

"Pure ideals wither away in the face of cold reality," Durandal answered, "For all her ability to inspire the masses, the songstress cannot offer the world the secure future it longs for. I can."

Creuset chuckled. "Arrogant as ever."

"Not arrogance; a matter of vision and planning," Durandal replied, "Today will be a milestone towards bringing both to fruition."

Creuset folded his arms, and the masked phantom slowly began to fade. "Perhaps. We shall see, old friend. Be careful, though. It's not just control that you're after. If the desire for revenge clouds your judgment, then all the vision and planning in the world will not arrest your fall."

Durandal's brow furrowed. "Revenge? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do," Creuset whispered, "Revenge on our very species for failing to learn from its long history of mistakes… and for what it did to me. I'm flattered, by the way; though your vision is the opposite of mine, that you would implement it as much for my sake as your own is quite flattering. Well, I've already rendered my judgement on humanity, and fate decided it was inadequate. Let us see if fortune smiles upon your verdict, old friend. I'll be watching."

The last vestiges of the phantom vanished as the door of the dressing room opened and his brown-haired aide Amber poked her head in. "Chairman Durandal? You're scheduled to go live in five minutes. You should be on set now."

Durandal stood and inclined his head towards her. "You're quite right, Amber. Shall we be off, then? The next pages of history won't write themselves, after all."

Amber smiled and nodded. "Well spoken, Chairman."

Quite so, Durandal thought as he followed her out of the dressing room, and these newest pages will soon turn to a new chapter entirely. One where mankind's worst instincts are checked, where the control that our species so desperately needs is finally imposed. And, perhaps…

…one where an old friend's cruel fate can, indeed, be avenged.

Preview for next time!

Speaking before the eyes of the world, Chairman Durandal addresses the Earth Sphere regarding the schemes of LOGOS in order to shape the narrative of the Second Bloody Valentine War to his ends. Having successfully hacked global communications, his message serves to intensify the unrest within the Atlantic Federation to an unprecedented degree, panicking the likes of Lord Djibril and his accomplices. Terminal has little time to deal with the immediate fallout, though, as their focus remains on restoring Cagalli to power in Orb and knocking out the last of the Atlantic Federation's active naval assets in the Pacific. As shockwaves ripple across the world from Durandal's speech, the war is about to enter a new phase. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Thirty: Grand Theater.

'No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies'

'But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance that's never free'

Behind Blue Eyes, by The Who.

Author's Notes: Jeeze, it's been nearly four months since my last update to this story! Sorry for how long this took, my pace slowed up a bit as I was trying to balance things out in my life. Can't make any promises that it'll speed up anytime soon.

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