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?)

30. Chapter 30

Author's Notes: Hello there! So, you may have noticed that I changed the rating for this story to M, along with those of my other stories. Reason for that is I got a message from a reader a while back claiming that the site admins would soon be conducting a purge of stories that don't strictly adhere to the age rating guidelines. Not sure if there's truth to it, but seeing as my writing does at times go up against the line between T and M, possibly even tiptoeing over it on occasion, I decided on bumping the rating up. It's really more of a precaution than anything else, my actual writing style and the sort of content my stories contain isn't going to change. I've always been more of a 'spirit of the law' rather than 'letter of the law' kind of guy, but if the site admins are going through with a content purge I have no way of knowing if said admins share my particular outlook on things such as language or certain kinds of violence. So, the show goes on, just with a different rating for formality's sake and to keep the admins off my back.

Song list for the chapter, in order of appearance: "Hymn to Red October" composed by Basil Poledouris, "Use the Cloak of Darkness" from Gundam Wing, and the version of Vega's theme from Street Fighter V: Champion Edition (I love me the classic SF2 Vega theme, don't get me wrong, but the one from V: Champion Edition is objectively superior. Fight me.).

Enjoy!

Episode Thirty: Grand Theater

Once again reviewing the latest updates from Eileen Canaver and her web of contacts in the PLANTs, Lacus had expected today to go just like several of the previous ones had. She had already been at her desk for several hours browsing through files and emails, sending out replies with instructions or requests as was needed. While she was expecting a considerable uptick in activity within a few days once her friends down on Earth began the operation to restore Cagalli to power in Orb, that mission was presently still in the preparatory phase.

Of course, if she had learned anything during the prior conflict, it was that war did not care for concepts such as quiet workdays. It marched to the beat of its own drum, throwing out unexpected developments for others to deal with regardless of how people might try to control or influence the ebb and flow of the conflict. Expectations meant nothing to the chaotic beast of war, which meant that all someone like Lacus could do was adapt as the situation required her to. If one could not roll with the punches, then one had no hope of attaining ultimate victory.

So it was that Lacus kept her surprise in check when a small window appeared in the bottom left corner of her screen, with a blonde-haired and green-eyed woman frantically addressing her. "Miss Clyne, we're receiving a broadcast from the PLANT Supreme Council Chairman, origin point Gibraltar!"

Lacus's eyes widened slightly. "It's directed specifically to us? Has this facility been exposed?"

The woman, one of Lacus's aides named Abigail Queens, shook her head. "No, it's being sent out across the entire Earth Sphere. We're getting it through our relay network, and it's been bounced enough times that I doubt the enemy's pinpointed our location. It's everywhere; even Atlantic Federation and Orb Union channels are carrying it!"

The Atlantic Federation and Orb are not in the habit of cooperating with the PLANTs on much of anything these days, Lacus mused, and communications is no exception. If their frequencies are also carrying a transmission from Chairman Durandal, then it can only mean that ZAFT somehow found a way to hack into their communications infrastructure. A stunt like this would expose that to his enemies, though, and they will naturally seek to plug the gaps in their security. Why burn that card for a global public address? What message is Durandal seeking to push out into the information sphere and through his enemy's propaganda bubble?

Lacus kept all those musings to herself as she calmly addressed her aide. "Can you direct the broadcast to my office, please?"

Abigail hastily nodded. "Of course, Miss Clyne. Patching it through now."

Lacus inclined her head. "Thank you."

Propping her elbows up on the desk, Lacus leaned forward and clasped her hands beneath her chin as the image on the screen shifted, revealing Durandal. He was standing on a stage with a plain background, with not even the flags of ZAFT or the PLANTs anywhere in sight as they would have been during a typical public address by the Supreme Council Chairman. Then again, since the Chairman's audience here was the world rather than the populace of L5, it made sense to leave out any symbols of the PLANT nation so that whatever speech Durandal had in store could have a better chance of hitting home with the largest possible audience.

He's not flanked by aides, soldiers, or supporters of any sort, Lacus noted, I suppose he's trying to appear as just a man and nothing more, or at least as close to that as someone in his position can be. He's put a lot of thought into the stagecraft here. I would expect nothing less from him.

She watched and listened intently as Durandal began to speak. "People of the world, I am Gilbert Durandal. I am the PLANT Supreme Council Chairman, yet I come before you today not as a citizen of my country, but as your fellow man. For what I have to say today concerns a vile and despicable organization which has doomed mankind to the vicious cycle of warfare that consumes us to this day. Whether any of you listening are Natural or Coordinator, it does not matter. At the end of the day, we are all human, and if humanity is to have a future beyond this dreadful circle of bloodshed, then we must break it. The first step to accomplishing that is to bring the force most responsible for perpetuating this cycle in our contemporary era to justice, and that can only be done by setting aside the petty differences that they would use to manipulate and divide us."

The Chairman closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again Lacus could sense a grim resolve within even through the screen. "Recently, I am sure that many of you have learned the name of this organization. For those who have not, allow me to enlighten you. They call themselves 'LOGOS', and while they are at present headquartered within the Atlantic Federation, their insidious tentacles have spread over the course of many years to ensnare the Earth Sphere itself. For LOGOS is comprised of those who profit from the wars that have ravaged both Earth and space. They are the heads of armaments manufacturers, financiers whose loans and bond purchases facilitate the mass acquisition of weapons, fuel and mineral tycoons who feed the world's precious resources into the war machine, the owners of private military companies who make their fortunes off of deploying their dogs to conflict zones far and wide, and so much more."

Conveniently leaving out the fact that you employ mercenaries as well, Durandal, Lacus thought, and that some of those soldiers of fortune are amongst your top pilots. You and your administration are also amongst those who have facilitated the conditions for continued warfare, as evidenced by the military buildup that the PLANTs undertook when your administration came to power.

"This organization is a festering infection upon humanity," Durandal continued, "and while recent events have finally brought their name out into the light of day, their insidious influence has been at play for far longer than our present conflict. LOGOS, though pawns such as Blue Cosmos, spread the fuel and lit the spark for what we now know as the First Bloody Valentine War; the death and suffering of countless people in that conflict alone can be laid at their feet, and that is hardly the only one where their sinister guiding hand has been at work. So many of the conflicts that have blighted what was supposed to be mankind's hopeful Cosmic Era were shaped and exacerbated by this cabal of arms merchants and oligarchs who line their pockets with proceeds borne from mass carnage and misery. They've made fortunes time and time again from spreading conflict and discord, and their greed is insatiable."

The Chairman then placed a hand to his chest and lowered his head. "Long have I despised these vile people who would profit off of humanity's collective agony. That is why I was greatly heartened by the recent declarations of secession and war by the Eurasian Federation against the broader Earth Alliance including LOGOS amongst those that Moscow would now fight against. I would welcome the leaders of Eurasia as allies in my campaign against this monstrous threat, yet I cannot completely discard my misgivings. After all, LOGOS profited greatly from the Eurasian Federation's buildup of military might just as they did from that of the Atlantic Federation, and Moscow proved themselves quite willing to play along with the organization's aims. That it took LOGOS turning their guns on the Eurasian Federation itself to finally convince Moscow of the threat they pose is discouraging, and suggests that Europe may yet still suffer from that organization's malignant influence to a degree. While I do not question the sincerity of those common people who have stood up to LOGOS and their puppets within Europe, the government of the Eurasian Federation itself has yet to prove that it's completely been cleansed of the cabal's filthy sway."

Their open declaration of war against that cabal would indicate otherwise, Lacus mused, as you well know, Durandal. Of course, you no doubt find it useful to muddy the waters on that matter. I have a strong suspicion as to where this is going…

"Look upon your screens now," Durandal proclaimed, "and see who truly acted against this cruel organization while Moscow dithered!"

The image shifted away from Durandal, and the screen instead became full with the sight of a city engulfed in the fires of war; Berlin. Lacus had studied footage from that battle and the others which had taken place in Europe since the Atlantic Federation invasion's commencement, so she recognized the hulking Destroy unit along with the new Grognard assault mobile suits operating alongside Windams. She could also see images of the Impulse, the Saviour and a GOUF Ignited battling Atlantic Federation machines, along with shots of common citizens who had demonstrated against the war before their city had been assaulted. The Gundam Altron Custom was also prominently featured in several segments of footage.

She also saw what was missing from the footage. Every mobile suit from the Terminal strike team that had responded to the attack and had played such a pivotal role in taking out the Destroy and so much of the Atlantic Federation's assault force had been edited out of the video, as had many of the Eurasian Federation's mobile suits and other military units which were present in the battle. The message was impossible to ignore.

"So, this is your move," Lacus murmured, "This is your new narrative, Durandal…"

The heavily altered images flashed across the screen quickly, no doubt deliberately so in an effort to stymie fact-checkers. Lacus vowed to ensure that the truth came out in time, though she knew that would be an uphill battle awaited her on that front; Durandal no doubt had responses prepared for whatever moves Terminal eventually made in the media sphere. She was undaunted, though. Lacus knew just how hard her friends down on Earth had fought to save Berlin and drive off the Atlantic Federation attackers, and she refused to allow Durandal to claim credit for efforts that his forces had minimal involvement in.

"As you can plainly see," Durandal proclaimed as he let indignation and pride seep into his voice, "ZAFT responded quickly to this act of barbarism. Although the forces we had available in the area were vastly outnumbered by those of the Atlantic Federation, our brave soldiers still risked their lives to protect the common people of Berlin. The PLANTs support the people of Europe in this dark hour, as we support all those who fight for their human rights against the sinister powers who would so cruelly stamp them out!"

The screen then shifted again, but not to images of combat in Berlin or elsewhere in Europe. Instead, a new figure took Durandal's place, and Lacus found herself face-to-face with…

…well, herself.

"This senseless tragedy is merely the latest in a long line of them," the woman who had taken on Lacus's appearance and voice lamented to the world, "Just look at this whole war! Atlantic Federation black ops forces attacked a PLANT colony, extremists from Patrick Zala's old regime then attempted to drop the remains of Junius Seven onto Earth, and LOGOS manipulated and inflamed these tensions to start the war that now consumes the world. As long as those whose hearts are consumed by cruelty and hatred are allowed to dictate the course of human history, this brutal and pointless cycle of bloodshed will never end!"

It was a rather jarring experience for Lacus to watch her doppelganger at work. On the one hand, strictly speaking, everything that Meer Campbell had just said was completely true. Under other circumstances, Lacus could very well picture herself giving a speech along the same lines, perhaps even word for word. The sentiments voiced by Meer were ones that Lacus completely agreed with, yet she still possessed the presence of mind required to realize that the imposter was merely using her character to facilitate Durandal's ends.

They might as well be my words scripted for Durandal's benefit, she thought, and yet the way Miss Campbell speaks is sincere. Whatever agenda Durandal ultimately has her serving, Miss Campbell is truly putting her heart and soul into this address. For her, it's no mere performance…

A very strange mix of righteous indignation and sympathy warred within her. On the one hand, it appalled Lacus to see her very image and voice being used to support the man who had ordered an attack on her friends and herself. At the same time, though, Lacus could not help but feel for the girl who had taken on the role. Her words seemed heartfelt, less performance and more earnest than Lacus had expected from the Chairman's puppet. Though she was definitely being used and most likely in over her head, the girl did appear to truly believe in her cause.

Lacus found herself struck by the sudden desire to meet this doppelganger. What would happen if the two of them could somehow rendezvous face-to-face, if they could speak openly to each other without fear of attack from Durandal? Could Lacus open the imposter's eyes, make her see what kind of man she truly served? It would be one thing for Lacus and her allies to simply out the imposter and discredit her before the eyes of the world, but what if they could do more? What if they could actually turn this fake songstress against Durandal? What new possibilities could that unlock?

All these thoughts and more raced through Lacus's head as her doppelganger continued to speak. "This pointless brutality is what myself and so many others strove to defeat in the war two years ago. The fearmongering and hatred that LOGOS has foisted upon the world brings about only destruction and misery. Coordinators and Naturals should not be fighting each other! We should be working together for a brighter future, not tearing each other apart just so warlords and death merchants can keep lining their pockets!"

The screen shifted again, returning to Durandal. "I concur wholeheartedly with Miss Clyne, and I am resolved to bring about an end to this ghastly state of affairs. ZAFT's part in this war has always been about more than simply protecting the PLANTs from unjustified aggression. Our campaign seeks to force LOGOS out into the light of day and to scour them from the Earth Sphere once and for all. LOGOS is the true enemy of not just ZAFT, but of humanity itself!"

The screen changed once more, and this time the still images of several men of varying ages appeared. All were dressed in fancy business suits, and some of their faces were familiar to Lacus. Although Eric Bristow's network of contacts and spies was primarily focused in the PLANTs, ZAFT, and Orb thanks to the connections Terminal had forged with the country's military, intelligence services and civil servants, the Wolf of the Far East had tried to build up dossiers on major figures within the Atlantic Federation. The intel for these dossiers came mostly second-hand from Orb and ZAFT contacts, but it was enough to assemble a picture of the major tycoons and oligarchs who pulled the strings within North America. Combined with new intel provided by the North American resistance, and it now gave a very clear picture as to who were the big movers and shakers in LOGOS. It was their faces on the screen now and, given the context, their pictures might as well have been wanted posters.

"Look upon these faces and burn them into your minds," Durandal directed, "for these are the despicable oligarchs who make up the heart of LOGOS. They are the very embodiment of the military-industrial complex that profits from bloodshed and war! It is by their influence that the world has been plunged twice into global war within the past few years alone. LOGOS is the mortal enemy of every human being that desires peace. Long have they hidden behind the Atlantic Federation and Blue Cosmos, but no longer. ZAFT will drag them out into the light, and they will finally face justice for their crimes against humanity. To all who would fight this scourge, I welcome you to join ZAFT in this endeavor. We welcome all who would seek to bring LOGOS down, whether they be from neutral nations or defectors from the Earth Alliance itself."

The Chairman then raised and clenched a fist over his head. "There will be no end to this war until LOGOS is destroyed!"

….

Heero's day was supposed to have been dominated by simulator exercises in preparation for the attack on the Atlantic Federation fleet, but the session had been cut off by Murrue calling for an impromptu meeting. He knew that she would not have interrupted the practice if it wasn't something big, so Heero had complied without fuss, though his fellow pilots had grumbled a bit. Any complaints the others had died quite quickly once they learned of Durandal's global address…

…and the rapidly spreading shockwaves which had resulted from it.

"The Atlantic Federation mainland is in utter disarray," Major Gardinier was saying, "Those riots and protests that we were monitoring before have completely blown up now. We're looking at nothing less than a popular uprising, and we have reports of police and military units mutinying. It's complete pandemonium over there."

"Hot damn…" Duo muttered.

Murrue shook her head. "I figured that the rhetorical one-two punch from Durandal and his fake Lacus would be potent, but I never expected the results to be this immediate. With just a speech, those two have plunged North America into chaos."

Heero nodded. "Durandal knew what he was doing when he crafted his false idol. Combine the image of the world-renowned songstress with his own charisma, and this is what we get. He played his cards well."

"But why did things blow up so suddenly in the Atlantic Federation?" Cagalli asked, "Durandal only gave his speech today, yet the reaction's already snowballed drastically. With all the crap that their people have already tolerated from the Atlantic Federation government, why did they suddenly decide that now was the time for full-on revolt? I know that there were already riots and protests ongoing, but this is one hell of a leap."

Natarle chimed in through the encrypted link from the Dominion. "Cagalli raises a good point. Durandal's speech was well-crafted, but the reaction to it from the Atlantic Federation populace feels like it came out of nowhere. I mean, word of LOGOS has already leaked into the public domain, so it's not like people are surprised now that a shady cabal's been pulling the strings, right?"

"Maybe it's simply the last straw," Eric suggested, "Look at it this way; the Atlantic Federation's experience in this war hasn't exactly been stellar. Their forces have taken severe losses, they've suffered painful battlefield defeats, and they've become utterly reviled on the global stage. So many people within continental North America have lost family and friends to this war by now, and with the government constantly censoring the truth, there's no real outlet for that grief. Now the fact that their loved ones died for the sake of oligarchs and war profiteers has been rubbed in their faces. Their wounds have been raw and multiplying throughout the war, and Durandal just gave them a big target to let out all their repressed rage and sorrow on."

"You might be onto something there," Shemei concurred, "There's only so much hardship and loss that people can deal with until they hit the breaking point. The Atlantic Federation government's taken more than just their people's loved ones away in this war. Think of all the resources that are going to feed the armaments industry rather than being used to help their own population. The PLANTs had similar issues during the last war, but it was easier for the government to keep people on board because they could make the case that they were fighting for their very survival. The Bloody Valentine Tragedy actually helped the government rally the general population behind the war effort, and Patrick Zala exploited the hell out of it when he took power and implemented his own agenda."

"Whereas the Atlantic Federation doesn't have a similar sort of galvanizing event to rally their people around," Quatre added, "I know they used the attempt by the radical remnants to drop the Junius Seven debris onto Earth to justify this new war, but the fact is that we stopped the debris from falling, or at least broke it up into small enough pieces that it didn't cause major casualties or damage. It doesn't have nearly the same level of gut punch as something like the Bloody Valentine Tragedy, which makes it much less effective as a tool for drumming up war support. The Atlantic Federation's had to compensate by ratcheting up the propaganda instead, but it seems like that approach has its limits."

"Lucky for us," Lan quipped, "Now it's blowing up in their faces."

"When what people are being told by talking heads doesn't match reality in a way that's actually noticeable in their lives, they eventually start to catch on," Priscilla remarked, "The Atlantic Federation's been able to keep their population in line through manipulating public opinion and intimidating them with their security apparatus in the past, but the losses that they've suffered in this war combined with the activities of the resistance have cracked the government's aura of power and invincibility."

"And now Durandal's given the people names and faces to pin this war and all their suffering on," Adaline concluded, "I don't know how he got his broadcast through the Atlantic Federation's communications censors, but ZAFT had to have put in a lot of work to pull it off. This is a move that's clearly been in the making for some time now. Recent events in both Europe and North America probably convinced Durandal that now was the time to make that move."

"The Atlantic Federation government's not just going to sit back and do nothing when it's threatened with an uprising," said La Flaga, "Have we heard anything about their response?"

Major Gardinier sighed. "The situation is incredibly chaotic and fluid. There are reports of military and internal security forces attempting to suppress this uprising by any means necessary, but we've also been hearing of skirmishes between those forces as well. At this point, it's difficult to say who's ultimately going to come out on top. Eurasian Federation Intelligence is keeping my staff apprised with a steady stream of updates, yet so much is going on over in North America right now that sifting through it all is challenging. It may be some time yet before we can assemble a more comprehensive picture of events on the ground and the direction that they're going."

"Chaotic or not, I think we all know the Atlantic Federation's playbook well enough by now to know what their answer will be," Murrue grimly pointed out, "I fully expect a crackdown with unchecked brutality."

Heero nodded. "That'd be par for the course. It may even be worse than what we saw in Europe. They were willing to torch Berlin and other major Eurasian Federation cities over protests and riots. This is a revolt on their own soil. That'll cause them to panic, and from that panic will come desperation. Any counter, no matter how gruesome, is probably on the table for them."

"Then we need to get involved," Kira interjected, "We can't just stand by and do nothing!"

Murrue shook her head. "As much I might want to agree with you, Kira, I'm afraid the timing won't allow it. We're at a critical stage right now, and we can't afford to divert any of our forces."

"We're just about on Orb's doorstep now," Trowa chimed in, "Our focus needs to be squarely on removing Unato and his supporters from power."

"That and dealing with the incoming Atlantic Federation fleet," Yzak added.

"Speaking of which, any updates on the Eurasian Federation's end of that operation?" asked Dearka.

Major Gardinier nodded. "Our Pacific Fleet is moving into position as we speak. While the naval assets we have out here aren't as powerful as those operating in the Atlantic, when combined with Terminal's units they should be more than sufficient for the mission."

Miriallia sighed. "I get that our own missions out here are important, but still… I don't like the idea of us not taking any action in North America. Things are going to be bloody over there."

"They already are," Flay somberly noted.

"I won't argue with you on that," said Heero, "but we have allies in North America who are much better positioned to act on this front than we are. We're used to having to take on every fight ourselves, but that's no longer the case. We need to trust that our friends operating out there can pick up the slack. If they can't, then they'll likely contact us."

Kira nodded in begrudging acceptance. "I guess you're right. I wish it was otherwise, though."

"As do the rest of us," Murrue concurred.

"The sooner that we can complete our objectives in Orb, the sooner we can get back to helping out in the wider war," Cagalli remarked, "and this time with the full resources of my government backing our efforts."

"Erica Simmons and the rest of our friends in Morgenroete will be able to operate in the open as well once you're back in charge of Orb," Shemei pointed out, "They'll be able to do a lot more than just provide us with covert funds, equipment and bases once they no longer have to worry about Unato and his stooges watching them like hawks."

"Speaking of Simmons and the others, how are things on their end?" asked La Flaga, "Ever since Unato brought Orb into the Earth Alliance, they've been forced to keep a low profile. They must be tired of hiding."

"Probably stressed the hell out, too," Duo chimed in, "Constantly having to look over your shoulders and watch out for security services closing in on you isn't exactly a good time."

"We would know," Trowa deadpanned.

"They're doing okay," Eric reported, "Thanks to Morgenroete's critical position in Orb's economy, especially when it comes to defense procurement, Unato's government has been reluctant to scrutinize them too closely. He's left the company pretty much alone as long as they fulfill armaments orders from Orb's military, so Erica and the others have all been able to stay out of sight. Still, I imagine they'll be quite relieved to have Cagalli back in charge. They've only been flying under the radar for a few months, but even that wears on your nerves."

"Their help will be important," Natarle interjected, "but even more so will be having the right allies in the military and civil service. Do we have any updates on that front?"

"We're making progress," Eric replied, "but there's still a bit more work to do before I'm comfortable giving us the green light. There are some fence-sitters in the Ministry of the Interior that I really want to get on board, and I think we're close to swaying them."

"How much more time do you need to bring them over to our side?" asked Heero.

"Another day or so at the most," Eric answered.

"The sooner, the better," said Murrue before turning to Cagalli, "How are your communications with the other noble houses proceeding?"

Cagalli smiled. "Much better than I thought they'd be. I figured that the Seirans haven't made many friends lately, but I still imagined that I'd have to work harder to sway the other noble houses over to backing me. Between Yuna getting the First Fleet destroyed and Unato allying our country with the nation that invaded Europe and torched Berlin, the Seirans' political capital in the nobility is utterly shot. Even the Sahaku family's on board; I thought that the best I could do with them was get a neutrality agreement, but they're all in. Unato really pissed them off."

"And here I thought he was smarter than that," Major Gardinier mused aloud, "Eurasian Federation intel briefs on the man pointed towards him being a savvy political operator. I guess the power that came from Atlantic Federation backing went to his head, and he got careless. All the better for us."

"Definitely," said Cagalli, "Unato has no allies left within the nobility. When we make our move, they won't lift a finger to help him."

"Then that leaves the PMCs he and the Atlantic Federation hired as the only remaining problem," Heero remarked.

"What's the word on them?" Duo asked, "Can we buy them off or talk them down, or are they going to stick to their contract?"

"We put out feelers, but we haven't gotten any positive responses," Eric answered, "Either the guys heading up these PMCs are the type who actually believe in loyalty to the contract no matter what, or Unato and the Atlantic Federation are offering the biggest payday of their lives. End result's the same, though; they're not going to bow out without a fight."

"Then it's a fight they'll have," Natarle vowed, "While the Archangel, Chimaera, their mobile suits and the Eurasian Federation Navy deal with the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet, the Dominion and her units will work with Sicario and the resistance to neutralize the PMC forces holding the outer islands."

"You'll be spreading yourselves thin," Murrue pointed out, "With the Wraiths assigned to taking out the merc suits guarding Unato's residence, your striking power against the outer island units will be greatly reduced. Tread carefully."

"I always do," Natarle replied.

Murrue then turned to Cagalli. "With the way things are going, we'll probably transfer you over to the Dominion tomorrow. Pack your things tonight and be ready."

Cagalli nodded. "I'll stash my go-bag aboard the Strike Rouge before I turn in for the night."

Kira smiled. "You showing up in that mobile suit will make one hell of a statement to Orb's people."

"Remember the mission," Heero cut in, his eyes locking with Cagalli's, "I understand the propaganda value of you making an entrance in the Strike Rouge, but make no mistake; you are not part of the fighting force for this operation. Above all else, we need to ensure your survival. You won't do your people any good if you're dead."

"I know," Cagalli affirmed, "As much as I don't like leaving all the fighting to you guys, I do understand my role in this, Heero."

"Just wanted to make sure that we're on the same page," Heero remarked, "I know you, after all. We all do by now."

Cagalli sighed. "Yeah, you do."

Murrue clapped her hands together. "Well, I'd say that covers just about everything for today. We'll probably have one or two more sessions like this before the operation finally kicks off depending on any last-minute developments. Make sure to get plenty of rest between your training sessions, everyone. When zero hour arrives, I want you all at your best."

….

In Murrue's office, Cagalli occupied the Captain's desk. Murrue, Heero and Major Gardinier were standing behind her, but Orb's Chief Representative was scarcely even aware of their presence. Her focus was completely on the screen before her, which was displaying a multitude of files that Major Gardinier and her team had received from the North American resistance earlier in the day.

"How did they get all this?" Cagalli asked.

"Their contact network is apparently more extensive than even I was aware of," said Major Gardinier.

"Lucky us," Murrue chimed in, "The information here… it's everything we need. I always had my suspicions about what happened on the Elysium colony during the last war, and I wasn't the only one. Still, we never had conclusive evidence that the Seirans' played an active role… until now."

"The Americans really came through," Heero noted, "We owe them one."

Cagalli's blood boiled as images of the death and devastation in the Elysium colony's Coordinator refugee camp flashed through her mind. "All this time, Unato claimed that they couldn't get the refugees to shelter quickly thanks to the chaos of battle… it was always a weak excuse, but now… that son of a bitch. These files, these communiques… they prove that Unato and Yuna knew what was coming. Azrael even bribed Unato into leaving the refugees exposed!"

"Utterly despicable," Murrue growled, and Cagalli didn't need to be facing the Captain to know that her expression was one of barely-contained fury, "I knew Unato was a bastard, but this… there's no circle of Hell deep enough for him."

"We can put that to the test soon enough," Major Gardinier remarked, "The information in these files will make a concrete case for your removal of Unato from power; you now have proof that he's a traitor to the Orb Union. Once this is made public, I imagine any fence-sitters within Orb will flock to your side."

Cagalli nodded, her expression harder than stone. "It's now more important than ever for us to oust Unato. Not only so we can pull the Orb Union out of the Earth Alliance and cut all support for the Atlantic Federation's war; Unato's now confirmed to be involved in crimes against humanity committed during the First Bloody Valentine War, and he will be held accountable for them."

"One way or another," she heard Heero murmur.

….

Cagalli had left the office a little bit ago, but Murrue and Major Gardinier had stayed behind at Heero's request. In truth, Murrue had been expecting something like this; what Heero had uttered after Cagalli's vow to have Unato held accountable for his crimes suggested the sort of accountability he had in mind probably did not mesh very well with what Orb's Chief Representative was imagining.

Murrue got her confirmation a moment later as Heero looked at her and Major Gardinier. "I know that Cagalli wants Unato to stand trial, but I'd rather take a more surefire approach in dealing with him. If he's left to linger until his day in court, there's a chance that the Atlantic Federation could mount an operation to spirit him out of Orb. If they were to pull that off, then they could keep using him as a puppet, perhaps even seek to reinstall him in a position of power down the line. Unato's done enough damage to Orb and its people for one lifetime."

Murrue slowly nodded. "I agree. I can't exactly say that I'm happy about going behind Cagalli's back, but I'd rather make sure Unato's dealt with quickly and permanently. What he facilitated on Elysium two years ago warrants it, and his bloody ledger has only been further stained since then."

"For whatever you have in mind, I presume you'll need Moscow's help to pull it off," Major Gardinier chimed in, "I can't see why else you'd want me here for this discussion, after all."

"You're partially right," Heero replied, "The Eurasian Federation and the North American resistance can provide some valuable assistance here."

Murrue folded her arms. "Then let's have the plan, Heero."

Heero spent the next few minutes laying it out, with Murrue and Major Gardinier listening keenly. By the time he was done, both he and her had their gazes focused on Major Gardinier.

"Well?" Heero prodded, "You think Moscow and our American friends will play ball?"

"We don't necessarily need both to chip in for this," Murrue remarked, "One or the other would probably suffice should either be uncomfortable with it."

Major Gardinier tapped her chin. "I think both would be willing to work with this plan, especially since the aid that you're asking from them is merely financial. Special Operations Command has a 'black budget' for scenarios just like this. As for the North American resistance, my understanding is that they've already seized a considerable number of assets from various LOGOS members, and I would imagine that they'd take no small amount of pleasure in utilizing some of those funds for an operation like this. Both parties would want a degree of deniability, though. Given that this involves assassinating a prominent noble, I'm sure you can understand the desire for discretion."

Heero nodded, and Murrue saw his brow furrow in thought. "Reasonable enough. We could contact Erica Simmons and run this by her. Morgenroete has a network of subsidiaries and shell companies; one of those could serve nicely as a go-between entity for the funds."

"That would work," Murrue confirmed, "Knowing Erica, it won't take much to get her on board. We can trust her to keep this under the rug."

"Would it be alright if I passed along her information to my superiors?" Major Gardinier asked, "It will be necessary to facilitate the transfer."

"Of course," said Heero.

"That still leaves figuring out how to get the message to the guards," Murrue pointed out, "A bribe's not very effective if they have no idea it's being offered in the first place."

"Eric and Kisaka's contacts within the Orb Union military should be able to help us there," Heero replied, "Unato's guards may be private security, but since their charge is still a government figure they're required to coordinate with the armed forces. We can take advantage of that channel to get the offer across."

Murrue's eyes narrowed as she considered things. "Yes, I think that would work. One last thing; what are you going to use on Unato?"

"The M82A-O," Heero answered.

Major Gardinier's eyes widened. "Overkill, much?"

Heero shrugged. "Yes, but Unato deserves it. The man's a cockroach, and I want to make sure he stays down."

"Can't argue with that," said Murrue, suppressing a shudder as images of the Elysium battle's bloody aftermath inside the colony flashed through her mind.

Given what the refugees had suffered two years ago, Unato deserved everything Heero had planned for him.

….

December 21st, C.E. 73

Standing on the dock next to Wufei, Lunamaria could hardly believe her eyes. As ZAFT's main stronghold in the European theater and the chokepoint through which it dominated the western Mediterranean and accessed the Atlantic Ocean, Gibraltar was no stranger to heavy naval traffic. Lunamaria was used to seeing dozens of surfaced Vosgulov-class carrier/submarines floating offshore at any one time, not to mention the assortment of surface vessels that were assigned to support and guard them in this vulnerable state.

What she wasn't used to seeing was Atlantic Federation warships floating not too far away from them and not filling the air with shells and missiles.

It felt like all of Gibraltar was cramming the docks so they could see the new arrivals, and for good reason. When word had reached Lunamaria's ears regarding the flotilla's arrival flying white flags, she'd done a double take, and she hadn't been the only one. Even now, as Lunamaria watched ZAFT vessels tie off alongside the Atlantic Federation defectors so their officers could meet face-to-face while DINNs, GOUFs and BABIs patrolled overhead, she was half convinced that this was a dream.

"This is real, right?" she asked, the question directed as much at herself as at the Gundam pilot standing with her.

Wufei nodded. "Well, I'm seeing the same four Atlantic Federation destroyers anchoring off Gibraltar that you are, so yeah, I'd say it's real."

"This has got to be a first," Lunamaria remarked, "Seriously, can you think of any time during this war where Atlantic Federation soldiers have defected to our side?"

"Well, I don't think it's official just yet," Wufei replied, "They only just arrived this morning, after all. It'll take some time for ZAFT officers to debrief the crews and verify that this is legit."

"How could it not be legit, though?" Lunamaria countered, "If it was a stray pilot or two with a Windam, maybe, but these guys brought four full warships here. Most of the officers and crew would have to be in on it, otherwise they would've had a mutiny. Besides, it's not like the Atlantic Federation can afford to sacrifice any warships to some elaborate scheme given how bad their losses have been."

"Good point," Wufei conceded, "I suppose this should be an occasion for cautious optimism."

Lunamaria turned her gaze from the ships to him. "Should be… but not for you?"

"Don't get me wrong," Wufei pushed back, "I'm glad to see that there are some people in the Atlantic Federation with the nerve to finally break off away from their masters and openly defect. If you ask me, it's long overdue. Hopefully these are just the first of many."

"Then what's up?" asked Lunamaria.

Wufei looked around before leaning close to whisper in her ear. "It's not something we should discuss with an audience."

Lunamaria immediately took the hint. "Want to take a walk? We'll have plenty of chances to see these ships again later if they're really joining us. Who knows? Maybe more will join them by the time we get back."

Wufei nodded. "Sure."

It took a bit of effort to make their way through the thick crowd that had gathered to observe the Atlantic Federation warships, but Lunamaria and Wufei were eventually able to break out and head for more secluded ground. They eventually came to an alleyway between two supply storehouses not too far from the docks, and that was apparently good enough for Wufei.

"You watched the speech, right?" the Gundam pilot asked as he leaned back against the wall of one of the storehouses.

"Yeah, it was pretty hard to miss," Lunamaria confirmed as she took up a pert atop discarded crate, "I caught it in the ship's break room."

Wufei's eyes narrowed. "Then this'll be simple. You saw what was missing during the Berlin segments of the speech, right?"

Lunamaria winced; she had, but she'd been focused more on the speech itself rather than background details, so she hadn't given it serious thought until now. "I did. That footage showed you, our units, some of the locals… but Terminal's mobile suits were completely left out."

"Exactly," said Wufei, folding his arms, "I think we both know who made the executive decision on that."

"The Chairman…" Lunamaria murmured, "Why, though?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Wufei shot back, "He wants to claim the mantle of being the true leader in the fight against LOGOS. He's trying to spin the line that ZAFT's the only power the world can trust to purge it of LOGOS. Any other groups that are fighting them outside ZAFT's umbrella get conveniently pushed aside in such a narrative."

Lunamaria sighed in disappointment. "It's so sleazy, though. I thought the PLANTs were supposed to be above stuff like this."

"Clearly they're not," Wufei quipped, "Certainly not under Durandal, anyway."

Lunamaria's shoulders slumped. "So, how much of what we saw in that speech was truth and how much was lies or edited omissions?

Wufei shrugged. "Hard to say. The Chairman's point about LOGOS being the real enemy isn't necessarily wrong, and painting them as solely responsible for this war and past wars gives people an easy foe to rally against. What he's trying to do is position ZAFT as the sole power and symbol for the world to gather around in that fight, and that's where the erasure of Terminal and others who've been fighting against the Atlantic Federation comes into play."

Lunamaria's brow furrowed as a disquieting thought occurred to her. "It also changes the reasons why we're fighting this war… and even justifies expanding it. At the start, it was just supposed to be about protecting the PLANTs and inflicting enough damage on the Earth Alliance to bring them to the negotiating table. It was about securing our long-term security and survival. Now, though…"

"ZAFT's campaign becomes much broader in scope," Wufei finished for her, "You heard the Chairman's speech; he said that LOGOS has ensnared the Earth Sphere itself. This is about far more than ZAFT versus the Earth Alliance now. If the Chairman wants to, he can use the specter of LOGOS as justification to attack pretty much anyone he wants. All he has to do is claim that a country is influence by or harboring members of LOGOS, and then he can sell his supporters on the need for an attack. Theoretically, every neutral nation in the Earth Sphere can become fair game if he spins it right."

Lunamaria shuddered. "The Chairman wouldn't go that far… would he?"

Wufei was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know."

Neither did Lunamaria, which made the situation even more terrifying. The war had truly entered a new stage now, and Lunamaria dreaded what would follow.

….

Soaring over the defecting Atlantic Federation warships, Pixy shook his head in equal parts amusement and incredulity. "These guys were willing to torch a continent, yet they go turncoat after finding out they're being used by oligarchs… as if that wasn't obvious from the get-go. Unbelievable…"

"People have jumped the fence for stranger reasons," Cipher remarked.

Pixy raised an eyebrow. "You're not seriously giving them the benefit of the doubt, are you, buddy?"

"We're not paid to judge the motives of defectors," Cipher casually replied, "Our job today's simply to watch their ships and neutralize them if they make a move we don't like. Why they've come here in the first place is not our concern."

Pixy shrugged. "Fair."

At least they're cooperating, he thought as he scanned the ships, Weapons are inactive, engines fully shut down… they really have placed themselves at our mercy. As far as good-faith gestures go, it works.

"Your new friend's not going to be a problem, is she?" Cipher asked.

Pixy blinked in confusion. "New friend?"

"Frost Druid," Cipher clarified, "Her file indicates some history with the Atlantic Federation. We're not going to have to worry about her attacking the newcomers, are we?"

Pixy shook his head. "She'll keep it cool."

"Perhaps you should make sure," Cipher suggested, "She's heading our way."

Pixy's eyes widened slightly. "Seriously?"

He checked his scanners and, sure enough, there was Klara's mobile suit. It was on a course that could either take her to join up with Galm Team's patrol route…

…or to line up an attack run on the Atlantic Federation destroyers.

"Better check," Pixy muttered before reaching out to Klara on a separate frequency, "What brings you out here, Frost? I thought you were done with flight exercises for the day."

"Just wanted to take a peek at our new arrivals," Klara answered, "Gibraltar Control's assigned me a combat air patrol pattern. Transmitting to you now."

Pixy got the data moment later. A series of looping red lines were laid over his main display, outlining Klara's designated patrol route. It was not anything too out of the ordinary, though Pixy couldn't help but note that it made several passes over the four idling Atlantic Federation destroyers.

"You're just taking a peek, right?" Pixy asked warily.

Klara sighed. "Relax, Pixy. I might have a bone or two to pick with the Americans, but I'm still a professional, just like you. We have standards, and I'll adhere to them."

Pixy let out a relieved exhalation. "Good to hear."

Despite her reassurance, Pixy kept a watchful eye on Klara as she started her patrol. After she made a pass over the idling warships without taking any shots at them, Pixy allowed himself to relax.

"She good?" asked Cipher.

Pixy nodded. "She is."

"Then hopefully we'll have a quiet flight," Cipher remarked.

Pixy arched an eyebrow. "Thought you hated flying simple patrols like this, buddy. You mellowing out on me here?"

"Just not in the mood for trouble right now," Cipher replied.

"That's not the flight lead I know," Pixy countered, "What's up?"

"I want to see how this all plays out," Cipher answered, "I want to know if these defectors are all we're getting, or if there are more on the horizon."

Pixy shrugged. "Four ships is four more than I was expecting. Maybe that big speech from the Chairman really did reach people. I guess we could get more. Who knows? Maybe the next big operation will have us working with a bunch of defectors. Stranger things have happened, right?"

"They have," Cipher concurred as the two of them made another pass over the destroyers.

Looking down at the warships, Pixy caught sight of several crewmembers standing out on deck. Zooming in with his visual sensors, he saw one of them point at his and Cipher's machines before gesturing excitedly for his companions to take a look.

Wonder if he recognized our emblem, Pixy mused with a chuckle, I bet he wasn't expecting to see us up close and personal and live to tell the tale. Looks like this is turning out to be a weird day for more than just me and Cipher…

…and there are probably plenty more like them in store for us.

….

December 22nd, C.E. 73

While Unato was a believer in 'early to bed, early to rise,' and practiced it as much as the life of a busy nobleman and ruler would allow him, his definition of 'early' usually meant getting up just after sunrise. It did not mean being awoken before the first rays of morning light by a very nervous servant claiming that a most important delegation from the Atlantic Federation would be arriving at his estate in the quite imminent future.

"Being forced up at this hour is ludicrous," Unato huffed as he followed the servant towards his private office where the visitor was waiting, "This had damn well better be worth it."

When he reached the office, Unato found the doorway flanked by both his own security personnel and a pair of armed men that he did not recognize. His own guards simply gestured for the new faces to step aside, which they promptly did. Looking back and forth between his own men and the newcomers, Unato only now began to suspect that his mysterious guest was no ordinary envoy. He got confirmation of that when he opened the door, and his face turned paler than snow. Standing in front of his desk was none other than Lord Djibril himself.

Unato hastily bowed as the door shut behind him. "My lord, forgive me, but I had no idea that you would be coming here today! I received no notice of your arrival in country."

"Well, this was hardly a planned visit," Djibril replied as he looked around the room.

Unato saw Djibril fidget, and the man's gaze kept flicking towards the window. The head of the Seiran family could sense that something was amiss, but it took him a moment to grasp just what that was. In all his communications with Lord Djibril before now, the man had been a picture of either supreme confidence, understated annoyance, or barely contained fury. Now, though, the head of LOGOS seemed apprehensive… perhaps even afraid.

"Lord Djibril," Unato cautiously began, "if I may ask, what has brought you to Orb unannounced?"

Djibril scowled. "You've seen the recent news, have you not?"

"Chairman Durandal's speech, you mean?" Unato replied, "I understand that it's stirred some unrest, but that's surely nothing which your forces cannot handle."

Djibril clenched his fists. "They should have been able to handle it… if they had been willing to do what was necessary. If they had not betrayed me!"

A chill went down Unato's spine as pieces began to fall into place, and he realized that his position could be much more precarious now than before. "Betrayed?"

Djibril took a deep breath, and his eyes were downright blazing with rage. "That filthy Coordinator's speech roused something in the masses. The common rabble are in revolt, and our forces in North America clash with both the mob and themselves. Disgraceful rats, the lot of them! How dare they force me to flee in such a manner!"

Unato's head snapped back in utter shock. "Wait… you mean that you were forced to escape, my lord?"

"Did I not make myself clear the first time?" Djibril snapped, "Yes, you old dotard! Why else would I have come to your mansion at such an ungodly hour? My allies and I were forced to run in the dead of night by those mutineers and traitors! They will all pay dearly for this embarrassment!"

Unato reeled as his mind struggled to process the ramifications. "Then… the Atlantic Federation… has fallen?"

"No!" Djibril snarled like a wounded animal, "As long as I survive, it remains mine!"

"Of course, of course!" Unato frantically replied.

Djibril took a deep breath. "We retreated from North America to regroup. The continent is in chaos right now, and it is best for us to reposition and plan our reconquest from afar. We are also still fighting a war against the Coordinator filth and their allies, and we can hardly oversee such efforts while the rabble of our homeland try to kill us. We still retain control of Heaven's Base in Iceland, and all our holdings in outer space remain secure. I will be leaving for the latter shortly."

"You will be?" Unato repeated, simultaneously apprehensive and relieved.

"Yes, along with most of the supporters that accompanied me here," Djibril confirmed, "Some will remain in Orb to facilitate continued cooperation between your government and mine. I expect them to be treated with the same due deference that you would give me. Is that understood?"

Unato nodded. "It is, my lord."

Djibril seemed much calmer now, though there was still a manic edge to him. "This is not a defeat, merely a setback. The rebels will be so consumed with fighting our stay-behind forces that they will not be able to consolidate power. Much of the surface military remains under our command, as do all of our orbital fleets. Mark my words, Unato, we will return stronger than before. Those who support us in this dark hour will be handsomely rewarded… and those who turn against us will quickly regret their treachery. Do I make myself clear?"

"Quite clear, my lord," Unato answered.

"Good," said Djibril as he headed for the door, "I thank you for your hospitality, Unato, but I'm afraid that I cannot stay any longer. I will head for the spaceport now, and I expect the mass driver to be ready for me."

Unato quickly nodded. "I will call ahead and personally make sure that the preparations are complete."

Djibril smiled. "I would expect nothing less. Your loyalty will serve you well once we've reclaimed our home and purged the impurities of this world, Unato. You will enjoy a place of honor and prestige in the new world order, and Orb will benefit greatly. Keep an eye on the prize, Unato."

Unato bowed, keeping his reservations to himself. "I shall, my lord."

….

The hangar of the Dominion was bustling with activity as mechanics and technicians scrambled to complete final checks on the ship's mobile suits. Lan deftly bobbed and weaved through the organized chaos as she searched for her favorite Gundam pilot, hoping to catch him before he climbed up into his machine. Bouncing up and down on her heels, she caught sight of him a moment later heading towards the access ladder and raced to intercept him.

"Hey, Quatre!" she called out, struggling to make herself heard over the background noise.

Quatre whirled around just in time to brace himself as Lan threw her arms around him. "Hey, Lan. What's up?"

"Just wanted to see you one more time before we took off," she answered, reaching up to run her fingers through his blond hair, "We're going after different targets, and yours are more dangerous. I won't be able to watch your back out there."

Quatre's eyes widened slightly. "You're worried about me?"

Lan rolled her eyes. "Of course, I am, silly. I get the easy job; me and the girls are just sneak attacking the mercs guarding Unato's mansion. Even with Duo being transferred to the fleet attack mission, it's still a job that the three of us can take care of, no problem. You're part of the attack on the barrier island mercs, and you don't have a stealth machine. Unlike me, you're actually going to get shot at."

"I'm quite used to being shot at, you know," Quatre pointed out.

"Doesn't make it any less dangerous," Lan countered, her voice softening, "I know you can take care of yourself, Quatre, but still… don't go getting careless out there, you hear?"

Quatre was quiet for a moment before smiling. "I won't, as long as you promise me that you'll do the same. I'm not going to be able to save you if anything goes wrong on your end, Lan. You'll have the element of surprise, but please, don't get sloppy."

"That's the nice thing about flying under Adaline," Lan remarked, "Even when the boss is on her own mission, she makes sure to keep us all focused. We'll stay sharp out there, so you do the same."

She then smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. "In fact, I can give you a bit of extra incentive."

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

"There's a café in Orb's capital called the 'Cat's Nine'," Lan answered, "Lovely little place that overlooks the beach. I meant to take you there back before the war kicked off, but things escalated pretty quickly. Anyway, once we get Cagalli back in control of Orb, we might get a bit of shore leave. What do you say?"

Quatre surprised her by reaching behind her head and pulling her in for a quick kiss. "It's a date."

Lan hungrily licked her lips. "I'll hold you to that. Stay alive out there, Quatre."

"Same goes for you," he replied.

The two of them shared a long and meaningful look, then they nodded and went towards their respective machines. Rapidly climbing the access ladder, Lan turned to catch one last glimpse of Quatre. Their gazes met one more time, and she blew him a kiss before entering her Wraith's cockpit.

Get your game-face on, girl, she told herself as she powered up her machine and started running through the pre-flight checklist, because you've got some mercs to kill…

…and a hot date when it's all over!

….

In the cockpit of Gundam Wing Zero Albion, Heero was double-checking his mobile suit's systems when Murrue's face appeared on his monitor. "How are things down there?"

"Green across the board," Heero answered, "I can launch at any time."

"That'll be quite soon," said Murrue, "We just got an update from the Eurasian Federation's Pacific Fleet; they're a bit ahead of schedule. The timing should work out well for us."

"Their satellite and drone recon still have positive contact?" Heero asked.

Murrue nodded. "Affirmative. Still, it'll be nice when Duo gets there so we can have our own eyes on target."

Heero concurred. "Right up until he reveals himself by taking out one of the carriers. He'll definitely catch them with their pants down."

"Deathscythe Omega's going to be the least of their problems," Murrue remarked, "Between us and the Eurasians, the Atlantic Federation's fleet isn't going to know what hit them until it's way too late."

"Let's not write them off so casually," Heero pushed back, "This is the enemy's last offensive force on this side of the globe. They'll be feeling the pressure, and they'll definitely put up a fight."

"You're right," Murrue conceded, "We can't afford to take anything for granted. At least the Eurasians should be able to soften them up a bit before the rest of you engage. Those new prototype vessels that Major Gardinier said would be operating with them seem quite formidable if the specs are anything to go by."

"They might not be as versatile as the Chimaera," Heero noted, "but for their intended purpose, they seem very-well designed. This will be as good a field test for them as any."

Murrue turned away for a moment as one of her fellow bridge officers said something that Heero could not quite make out, and she looked back at him a moment later. "We're coming up on our surfacing point. I'll be passing you off to Miriallia shortly."

"Understood," said Heero, "Did we get a final report from Natarle before they went radio silent?"

"She sent one on schedule," Murrue confirmed, "By the time we engage the fleet, their part of the operation will be underway. I wish we could be there."

"That makes two of us," Heero concurred, "but this is the hand we've been dealt. All we can do is play it."

Murrue nodded. "At least they'll have plenty of support between local allies and our new friends from across the pond. Speaking of the latter, I can't believe what they're bringing to the table, and I'm not talking about Sicario's forces."

Heero couldn't resist a small chuckle. "I know what you mean. To think that they'd bring an antique like that back online…"

"Antique or not, she's still dangerous," Murrue reminded him, "Nine sixteen-inch guns pack quite a wallop regardless of how old they are, and it sounds like they've got them in top shape for this operation. I almost wish that I could be on the bridge of that old girl just to watch them do their work. Those mercs stationed on the outer islands have no idea what's about to hit them."

"We'll have to ask them to send the combat data over when the operation's done," Heero suggested, "I'd be very interested in seeing how long the enemy's shore units last under that kind of a barrage."

"We'll find out soon enough," said Murrue.

Heero took a deep breath as he met her gaze. "Everyone knows their part of the operation. We've planned and adapted as much as we can. All that's left now is to carry out the mission."

Murrue smiled. "Let's get to work, then. Be careful, Heero."

"Same goes for you," he replied.

Murrue then vanished from the screen, and Miriallia took her place. "Heero, move to the portside catapult. Duo will launch from the starboard one. Stand by until launch clearance is given."

Heero nodded. "Copy that."

He moved his Gundam into position and waited patiently as he felt the Archangel rise. A few minutes later, he saw the heavily armored doors at the end of the runway begin to slide open, gradually revealing the pre-dawn sky. When they finished opening, a red light off to one side of the runway flicked off and was replaced with green.

"Heero, you are clear for launch!" Miriallia announced.

"Acknowledged," Heero answered, "Wing Zero Albion, launching."

The Gundam rocketed forward, clearing the battleship and racing skywards seconds later. Deathscythe Omega was already airborne, and Heero dialed back on the throttle so Duo could act according to the plan as an advanced element. The God of Death then vanished from both sensors and the visual spectrum, and a timer appeared in the bottom right corner of Heero's main monitor.

Circling overhead, Heero waited as the rest of his comrades launched from the Archangel. The Chimaera had surfaced off to the portside of the white battleship, and her units were likewise taking flight. While Duo would be charged with initiating the surprise attack, Heero would lead the main mobile suit strike team and enter the fray once the God of Death had started the party. Every aerial unit aboard the Archangel except for the two Murasames would be part of the attack element; Dante and Ingrid would be staying close to the warship in a defensive role. Meanwhile, the two Hyperions of Espada Team and a pair of Jet Windams would make up the Chimaera's attack flight, with the prototype cruiser's last two Jet Windams remaining behind to protect her.

Once the strike team had formed up behind him, Heero accelerated. He and his comrades soared off into the northeastern sky, ready for the battle that awaited them.

….

On the bridge of the Revolyutsiya-class long-range tactical and strategic bombardment submarine Oktyabr'skaya Revolyutsiya, Captain Alik Nikolaev tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair anxiously. A weathered man in his mid-fifties with hair that had already gone completely white, including a thick beard, the Eurasian Federation naval officer was no stranger to tense situations. Keeping his 200-meter-long behemoth of a vessel mere meters beneath the surface in preparation for payload launch meant at the same time potentially exposing it to easy detection by the enemy, hardly something that the old seadog was comfortable with. It did not matter that intelligence reports indicated his ship was far away from any Atlantic Federation units capable of threatening her; his instincts rebelled against the current situation even if his mind perfectly understood the need for it.

At least it shouldn't be too much longer now, he thought as he glanced at the timer on the personal monitor built into the arm of his chair, Only a few more minutes…

Despite his apprehension, Captain Nikolaev could not help but also feel a sense of excitement. After being held back for so long, constantly undergoing trials and mechanical repairs as fresh problems made themselves apparent, the first two vessel of the new Revolyutsiya-class would finally be allowed to fire shots in anger. Granted, they'd taken so long to prepare for combat that their first use would now be against a nation that had once been Moscow's most powerful ally rather than against ZAFT's navy as expected, but Captain Nikolaev honestly preferred it this way. He had been skeptical about the reasoning behind this new war to begin with, and it frankly felt much better to be using his new vessel against the nation that had tried to nuke colonies and attempted a scorched-earth campaign in Europe rather than against the people who were simply defending their right to exist.

The Oktyabr'skaya Revolyutsiya would have a thing or two to say to her treacherous former allies today. A great black ovoid leviathan, she was not a vessel intended to mix things up with other ships in line-of-sight or sub-surface engagements. While she was armed with quartets of torpedo launchers both fore and aft, if it came to the point where she actually had to use those then it meant that something had gone very wrong. Rather, the only weapons that the large submarine was supposed to use were the four rows of vertical ordinance launchers that fired out of her upper hull. Each row consisted of twelve launchers, with three of those rows housing cruise missiles. The fourth row, instead of carrying traditional offensive ordinance, had a line of ADD-69 drones at the ready. Meant to launch ahead of the cruise missiles, the slender cylindrical drones with their stubby wings were designed as decoys, intended to distract the anti-air and anti-missile defenses of enemy targets so that the cruise missiles would have a greater chance of getting through the screen and hitting their targets. If they met minimal defensive countermeasures or said countermeasures were overwhelmed quickly, then the drones also packed their own high-explosive payloads and could be used as missiles themselves. By necessity, the drones didn't carry as much explosives as the cruise missiles themselves, so any damage that they did to enemy surface combatants was likely to be limited just to the superstructure of the ships in question. Cruise missile and decoy tubes alike each came with two reloads, so after expending her stockpile the vessel would have to either return to port or rendezvous with a fleet tender to replenish munitions.

Both the Oktyabr'skaya Revolyutsiya and her sister boat, the Fevral'skaya Revolyutsiya, had been developed under the greatest possible secrecy, with most of their trials taking place beneath the ice sheets of the Arctic Ocean. None of the Eurasian Federation's allies had been informed of their construction, though Captain Nikolaev suspected that the Earth Alliance nations knew of the boats; allies still spied on each other, after all. Still, given that the Atlantic Federation's attention was now split between fighting ZAFT, the Eurasian Federation's forces in western Europe, and the latest incarnation of the Three Ships Alliance, Captain Nikolaev was willing to bet that Moscow's two new toys quietly leaving dock and entering the Pacific Ocean had slipped their notice.

If we hadn't, he mused, then the enemy would've dropped a sonar buoy network along our projected course based on their last sighting of us, and their ASW patrols would be active on or near our route. The fact that we encountered no such countermeasures indicates that we're well and truly off the radar… or so I hope.

It would be a moot point in short order. Captain Nikolaev knew that the timer was ticking down, each second passing bringing him one closer to revealing his boat and its sister off in the distance to the world. A momentous occasion, given what they were about to do, but a somber one as well. After all, the orders he would soon give had targets on the other end of them. How many sailors would he be sending down to Davy Jones today?

Start "Hymn to Red October"

So caught up was Captain Nikolaev in his grim musings that he almost did not notice Lieutenant Commander Luka Grigorev, his Executive Officer, approaching him from across the bridge. A broad-shouldered and stoic man in his mid-forties, his head still possessed some hair that was brown rather than all white like that of his Captain. The man's dark brown eyes had a resigned look in them, and the Captain knew what his XO would say before Luka even uttered the words.

Sure enough, those words came mere moments later. "It's time, Captain."

Captain Nikolaev was quiet for a second before nodding. "It's time. Time indeed."

….

With the faintest traces of dawn's first light on the horizon, the calm surface of the Pacific began to part as the black leviathan that was the Oktyabr'skaya Revolyutsiya slowly breached the surface. The water flowed down the submarine's gracefully curved upper hull, spilling down to its source. There was a moment of stillness, and then rows of hatches along the topmost part of the vessel began to open. Many kilometers to the east, well outside visual range of the Oktyabr'skaya Revolyutsiya, an identical scene was playing out with her sister boat.

Then the faint first rays of the day's sunlight were outshone by columns of fire and smoke arcing into the air as the submarine let fly. First to go up were the drones, and they were quickly followed by salvoes of cruise missiles. They all flew straight up for several hundred meters before arcing over to soar parallel to the ocean, beginning the journey to their targets.

As soon as the last of the missiles had left, the hatches atop the submarine closed, and the vessel quietly slipped back beneath the waves, her crew already rushing to reload the launch tubes. Should a follow-up volley be required, the Oktyabr'skaya Revolyutsiya and her sister far to the east would be ready. For now, though, they would reposition and lurk in the depths, concealed from hostile eyes.

End "Hymn to Red October"

….

On the bridge of the Spengler-class carrier James K. Polk, Admiral Emerson Waters looked out on the dark sea surrounding his fleet with trepidation. This was supposed to be a simple operation; linger just outside Orb's territorial waters ostensibly in the name of providing 'support' for the ruling Seiran family while in reality reminding the nobles of the fate that awaited them should they step out of line. Given Unato's reputation as a craven and greedy man, Admiral Waters was not expecting him to order any sort of response. If the intelligence reports were accurate, the aristocrat was on thin ice with the Orb Union military due to the debacle at the Dardanelles, and the Admiral could not see Unato daring to order them into action against the Atlantic Federation fleet.

Orb's remaining naval assets are considerable, he thought, but the man that they answer to lacks backbone. We should face no opposition.

If that was the case, then what explained his apprehension? Well, there was always the possibility of encountering ZAFT naval elements. Carpentaria's fleet units had become bolder in how far out east they would go thanks to the considerable losses suffered by the Atlantic Federation's Pacific Fleet earlier in the war, but to Admiral Waters' knowledge they tended to stay just outside Orb's territorial waters. It wasn't out of deference or respect for borders since the Orb Union was now part of the Earth Alliance and officially at war with ZAFT. Instead, Admiral Waters suspected it was due to the fact that Orb's surviving fleet units had remained close to home, and ZAFT most likely wanted to avoid drawing them into battle at this time. Seeing as ZAFT's focus seemed to be over in Europe for the time being, their forces on this side of the globe were likely operating from a defensive posture apart from their long-range patrols and the occasional raid.

ZAFT had to be aware of Admiral Waters' fleet by now, yet there had been no signs of them making any moves against his force. If the Atlantic Federation force did not detect them, it wouldn't be for lack of trying; Admiral Waters had been insistent on maintaining a meticulous anti-submarine fleet screen, and they hadn't picked up anything on sonar. Air search radar had likewise come up empty time and time again, and nothing had been reported in from the combat air patrol. All indicators pointed to things being quiet for the time being.

Why the unease when all seemed calm, then? Perhaps it stemmed more from the domestic situation than the one in the field. Reports had been trickling in to the Admiral ever since the fleet's departure, and the picture he was getting of events back home was concerning and incoherent to say the least. Security forces and military units clashing with civilian militias or each other, rumors of high-ranking government officials attempting to flee abroad or go into hiding, and industrial sabotage were just the tip of the iceberg. Admiral Waters had received no new orders, so as far as he knew his mission was still ago, but if the deterioration back in North America continued then it would surely impact the chain of command at some point.

Until the mission's over or new orders are received, it's all irrelevant, he told himself, I have no place in the political chaos back home. I need to focus on the task at hand.

If trouble did find him out here, Admiral Waters could comfort himself with the fact that he was well-equipped to deal with it. With the assembled warships running low to no lighting to avoid giving away their positions visually, it was difficult to make out the vessels of his fleet, though the first slim rays of sunlight peeking over the eastern horizon would change that shortly. The fleet was significantly spread out in broad circular formation, with the James K. Polk and the other three Spengler-class carriers situated in the center. Radiating outward were several cruisers and dozens of destroyers in wide ring-like formations, their overlapping radars and anti-air umbrellas presenting a formidable screen for the carriers. Jet Windams patrolled the skies both near and far, with about half of each carrier's assigned mobile suits airborne at any given time while the rest were ready to launch at a moment's notice. Given the costly losses to both carriers and mobile suits that the Pacific Fleet had suffered so far in this war, Admiral Waters was taking no chances.

Despite his abundance of caution, though, he still nearly jumped out of his uniform when a call rang out from the ship's flight operations coordinator. "Sir, combat air patrol reports multiple contacts inbound from the northwest and northeast! Size and speed suggest cruise missiles!"

The Admiral broke out in a cold sweat. "All ships, battle stations! Get everything we have airborne! How many missiles are they reporting?"

"Dozens at least!" the officer shouted in an effort to be heard over the sudden outbreak of alarms and the frenzied activity of his comrades, "Could be upwards of sixty!"

Before Admiral Waters could respond, the dark sea was suddenly illuminated by an explosion, and a rather close one at that. Turning towards the source, Admiral Waters nearly needed new pants as he beheld the sight of fire and smoke billowing from the starboard side of the carrier Franklin Pierce. There was no way it could have been from a missile; none had been reported by combat air patrol or radar as coming from that direction.

And then, as the Franklin Pierce rapidly and fatally began listing to starboard, Admiral Waters saw it. A crescent of emerald energy emanating from a long pole…

…in the hands of a mechanical Grim Reaper.

….

Start "Use the Cloak of Darkness"

With a devious smirk on his face, the God of Death left the sinking carrier behind him, already rushing towards his next target. Getting into position for the opening strike had been easy for Duo; the hard part had been keeping so close to the carrier without bumping into it and risking premature detection. Waiting out the timer to synchronize his attack with the imminent arrival of the Eurasian Federation Navy's long-range missile strike had tested the Gundam pilot's patience, but now he was free to get the party started.

His smirk turned into a frown as a rain of particle beams hit the water in front of him, forcing Duo to break off his attack run on the next carrier. Looking up, he saw multiple Jet Windams trying to draw a bead on him.

They've got their combat air patrols operating both far out and close in, he thought, I gotta hand it to whoever's running this fleet; they actually know what they're doing. So much for me bagging another carrier before it can launch the rest of its mobile suits.

Gunning his engines, he ascended to meet the Jet Windams. Weaving through disciplined volleys of beam rifle fire and taking a few glancing hits on Deathscythe Omega's Active Cloak before getting close enough to strike. His wide swing only claimed a single victim, though, with the rest having scattered. The enemy pilots were making a conscious effort not to bunch up, which would make Duo's job more difficult. It had taken awhile, but the Atlantic Federation finally seemed to be learning from prior battlefield mistakes.

"Looks like it's only going to get rougher from here on out," Duo muttered as he deflected a beam saber strike with his scythe before jabbing the attacker with the weapon's pole to knock the Jet Windam back before cutting in half, "It would suck if I had to solo this fleet."

Thankfully, that was not in the cards today. While Duo's primary mission had been to infiltrate the fleet's core and take out as many carriers as possible, that was not his only job. He had been transmitting targeting information to the Eurasian Federation Navy via a network of recon drones that they'd used as a relay system, and his opening strike had caused several of the Jet Windams on combat air patrol to reorient towards the center of the fleet so they could eliminate him. That, in turn, meant better odds for more missiles of the incoming barrage to get through.

Better odds did not mean a guarantee, though. The fleet's anti-air defenses, from weapons aboard the ships themselves to the mobile suits already airborne, swung into action. Duo was forced to tune out a constant series of pings and dings as CIWS fire ricocheted off Deathscythe Omega's Gundanium alloy frame, focusing his attention instead on evading heavier weaponry such as mobile suit beam rifle fire while shooting down the occasional missile with his Gundam's head mounted Vulcan cannons. Meanwhile, Jet Windams were opening up on the incoming warheads with their beam rifles and CIWS. Duo caught sight of multiple airborne detonations, but he knew something that the Atlantic Federation pilots didn't; the first line of incoming projectiles wasn't actual cruise missiles, but decoys.

The ADD-69 drones played their part well, taking the brunt of the combat air patrol's attention while the swarm of cruise missiles coming in from behind them raced towards their targets. However, the airspace before them was now filled with shells and chaff, with many of the former detonating as their proximity fuses were triggered. Fresh explosions ripped across the sky over the fleet as missiles were blown apart well short of their targets, but the fleet's anti-air umbrella was not perfect. The missiles were incoming from both the northwest and northeast, not exactly a perfect pincer attack but still presenting a dilemma for the fleet's gunnery officers. The split in anti-air fire inevitably created gaps, and warheads inevitably slipped through. New detonations sounded, and while some were airborne, more came as cruise missiles started slamming into the vessels that made up the northern escort screen for the carriers. Plumes of fire and smoke billowed up from a dozen ships, and more soon followed.

Not a bad showing, thought Duo as his beam scythe cut down another Jet Windam, Major Gardinier wasn't kidding when she said Moscow's Pacific Fleet packed serious long-range firepower.

However, the missiles and Deathscythe Omega were never meant to take on the fleet by themselves; they were merely the first move in a multi-layered plan. As Duo zigzagged through the sky dodging particle beams and anti-air fire, his sensors lit up with friendly contacts coming in from multiple vectors. From the northwest, coming in behind the cruise missiles, they were broadcasting Eurasian Federation tags; 30 Jet Windams launched from the two active carriers of Moscow's Pacific Fleet. A third carrier was supposed to have taken part in the operation, but it had been forced to bow out due to engine problems and was currently making its way back to base. The others were coming in from the southwest, all nine of them broadcasting Terminal IFF transponders even though four were actually Eurasian units.

The main strike group was taking the field.

End "Use the Cloak of Darkness"

….

Start "Street Fighter V: Champion Edition – Vega Theme"

His brown eyes narrowing as he sighted in on a Jet Windam, Espada One took aim with his Hyperion's beam submachinegun. A quick bust of emerald bolts put his target down, and that machine was swiftly followed by a second as Espada Two sent her own fire downrange.

"Not a bad start," Alberto quipped before blocking fire from the ships below on his unit's energy shield.

"For us, anyway," Marcella added as she zigzagged through shells and particle beams, "I'm afraid our friends are showing us up."

Alberto chuckled as he saw twin pillars of golden-yellow hellfire descend from Wing Zero Albion and obliterate a pair of destroyers. "Well, it's awfully hard to compete with them."

"No excuses; the man I love wouldn't dare back down from a challenge," Marcella shot back as she took out a cruiser's forward cannon with a precise blast from one of her Forfanterie beam cannons.

Alberto grinned as he followed up her shot with one of his own, which went straight through the cruiser's bridge and turned the vessel's upper works into a blazing inferno. "Ah, you do know how to motivate a man!"

As Espada One and Two plunged deeper into the fray, they were backed up by two of the Jet Windams from the Chimaera. Painted dark grey and black, they were designated Cuchillo One and Cuchillo Two, the lead half of their flight. Cuchillo Three and Four were back providing air cover for the Chimaera, which meant they were unlikely to be much more than spectators in this battle. Swarms of rockets flew out from the launchers on the wings of their Jet Windams, mauling another cruiser and kicking off multiple fires in the superstructure.

Weaving through the chaotic anti-air fire, Alberto caught sight of the Freedom laying down withering fire on no less than three destroyers at once, methodically picking off their weapons with clinical precision. A stark contrast to Kira's pinpoint accuracy came in the form of a single large yellow beam from the Vayeate Kai, which reduced Dearka's targeted destroyer to nothing more than superheated shards of metal. Setting himself up like Heero to bombard the fleet, Dearka's focus on enemy warships did leave him open to attacks from enemy mobile suits, but his blue Gundam had a potent protector in the form of the crimson Mercurius Kai. Alberto saw multiple emerald beams splash harmlessly against the energy wall generated by Yzak's Planet Defensors, and the units which had taken the shots quick found themselves on the receiving end of a particle beam volley from the former ZAFT ace. Meanwhile, a lance of scarlet energy raced mere meters over the waves before slamming into the side of destroyer and eliciting multiple secondary explosions as the vessel's magazines cooked off; Shinn had set up the Skygrasper for a perfect low-altitude opening strike, and the blue-white fighter jet was already climbing to evade withering anti-aircraft fire from the ships around the stricken destroyer. Adding to the chaos was Deathscythe Omega, flitting about like a bat as it contended with the mobile suits protecting the remaining three carriers.

Meanwhile, the Jet Windams which had launched from the Eurasian Federation's Pacific Fleet were mixing it up with the Atlantic Federation's mobile suits. Particle beams and air-to-air missiles flew back and forth as the opposing squadrons clashed, and fresh explosions bloomed in the sky as units from both sides took hits. Without intervention, it looked to be an attritional fight.

"Let's get in on that furball," said Alberto after peppering a destroyer with a burst from his beam submachinegun, "The Gundams can handle the warships."

"Right behind you, Espada One," Marcella acknowledged.

"Cuchillo One and Two, you're with us," Alberto ordered.

"Copy that," came the voice of Alphonso Canedo, Cuchillo One.

"Falling in behind you," said Cruz Villanova, Cuchillo Two.

Weaving their way through anti-air fire, the two Hyperions and two Jet Windams raced across the fleet to join the dogfight. As they progressed, Alberto saw another pair of yellow beams rain down from the Gundam Albion, with one claiming the second carrier of the day while the other annihilated a destroyer. A shot from the Vayeate Kai quickly followed, and an unlucky cruiser became a fireball. Those warships fortunate enough to not fall under the powerful guns of Heero and Dearka found themselves little better off as Kira began stripping them of weaponry, all the while Shinn was swooping in for another attack run with the Skygrasper.

Alberto didn't have time to admire his allies' handiwork, though. He and his comrades plunged into the dogfight a moment later, with a hail of bolts flying forth from his and Marcella's beam submachineguns while Cuchillo One and Two provided supporting fire with their rifles. The Atlantic Federation pilots reacted with impressive swiftness; Espada Team and the Cuchillo pair quickly found themselves facing coordinated opposition from Jet Windams which had turned to engage them while surviving warships below lent what fire they could to the mix.

"They're not bad," Marcella grunted as she parried a saber strike with one of her beam knives before blasting the attacking machine in the chest with her submachine gun.

"No, they're not," Alberto concurred while blocking particle beams on his Hyperion's Lightwave shield, "Whoever's in charge must really put them through their paces during drills."

Whatever training that these Atlantic Federation pilots had undergone, it was enough to make the lives of the Eurasian pilots difficult. Alberto's beam knife flashed left and right as he blocked beam saber strikes, and the Hyperion's Lightwave shields were getting considerable use in defending the machine from incoming fire. Marcella was similarly pressed, spending as much effort on the defensive as she was attacking. The initial attack may have caught the enemy by surprise, but they were not going down without a fight.

As Alberto perforated a target with his beam submachine gun, he saw Cuchillo One and Two contending with a pair of Jet Windams. With Two covering him, Cuchillo One nailed one of his targets with an air-to-air missile loosed from a hardpoint beneath his Striker Pack's wings, but the remaining enemy had help from below. Shells and missiles flew up from the surviving members of the destroyer screen, and as Cuchillo Two destroyed the second Jet Windam engaging the wing pair a series of anti-air rounds and warheads caught Cuchillo One, with his machine being torn apart by the ensuing fireball.

"Bastards!" Alberto heard Cruz yell over the radio.

Alberto grimaced. "Cuchillo Two, keep it cool. Stay focused, or you'll end up joining him."

Cruz let out a heavy exhalation, clearly fighting back fury and grief. "Understood, Espada One."

They're definitely making us work for this one, Alberto thought grimly, and the battles to come after likely won't be any easier. What pilots we face from here on out will either be raw recruits or seasoned veterans, the former led and trained by the latter.

It's going to be ugly.

End "Street Fighter V: Champion Edition – Vega Theme"

….

Sending two more shots from the split Twin Buster Rifle downward, Heero watched in satisfaction as the third Atlantic Federation carrier and one of the nearby cruisers were blown to bits. He could not rest on his laurels, though; the enemy fleet might have been grievously wounded, but they appeared determined to go down swinging.

"They're quite disciplined," Heero remarked under his breath as he shot down several incoming missiles with Wing Zero Albion's machine cannons, "Not panicking, even this late in the fight. Almost a shame to put them down. Too bad they're on the wrong side."

"Yo, Heero!" Duo called out over the strike team's tactical channel, "Can I get a bit of covering fire over here?"

Checking for Duo's position, Heero found Deathscythe Omega duking it out with the mobile suits defending the last Atlantic Federation carrier on the field. Moving closer, he took aim with this Gundam's two Xiphias rail cannons and let fly. The pair of slugs zipped across the sky and sent two Jet Windams spiraling down into the sea, giving Duo some much-needed breathing room. Deathscythe Omega swung its signature weapon in a wide arc, cutting a third machine in half. For his part, Heero sighted in on a fourth unit and shredded it with his machine cannons.

"Ah, that's more like it," said Duo, his Gundam already diving towards the final carrier, "Thanks, buddy!"

"Don't mention it," Heero replied.

He waited to see if any other mobile suits would move to intercept Duo, but the remaining Atlantic Federation machines were spread too thin. The few nearby were actually closer to Heero than they were to Duo, so Heero decided to make himself their problem. He rushed in as he reunited the split Twin Buster Rifle and drew a beam saber with the Gundam's right hand. His rail cannons spat out another salvo which caught a Jet Windam square in the torso, and then his emerald blade clashed with the violet beam saber of another machine. The enemy pilot managed to deflect Heero's opening strike, but a quick knee from the Wing Zero Albion to the Jet Windam's torso knocked his opponent off balance and gave Heero the opening he needed to plunge his beam saber straight into his foe's cockpit.

Waste of a good pilot, Heero thought bitterly, I can't believe so many are still willing to die for the Atlantic Federation. Then again, for all I know, they might be coercing their remaining pilots into staying. Patrick Zala's old regime took Shemei's parents hostage to keep her fighting against us; I wouldn't put it past the Atlantic Federation to pull similar stunts at this point in the game. They must be desperate to keep whatever experienced pilots they have left.

Heero's sensors then lit up with several fresh contacts rapidly coming in from the southwest. They were not mobile suits, though; their signatures were too small. Heero knew what it meant, and he took his Gundam into a climb so he could get confirmation from a good vantage point. Sure enough, he saw multiple missiles inbound, and while frantic CIWS fire from the surviving destroyers in that part of the fleet managed to shoot down some of them, more plunged into the warships, setting fresh fires and putting a few vessels in critical condition. Turning his gaze towards the southwest, he saw the familiar silhouettes of two approaching warships.

The Archangel and Chimaera had arrived.

….

Murrue leaned forward in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she studied the main monitor. "Not as many got through as expected. Their defenses still have teeth. Lieutenant Tsukino, status on that second volley?"

"Missile tube reloads complete!" her XO announced.

Murrue nodded. "Then send it."

Her second-in-command did not need to be told twice. "Weapons, lock in on any targets that survived our first wave and launch Sledgehammers!"

There was a series of thuds as the next round of anti-ship missiles flew forth from their tubes. They arced around the bridge of the Archangel and raced towards their targets, with the Chimaera joining the larger warship in sending out another round of warheads. Just as before, the CIWS on the surviving warships let loose a wall of lead, and some of the missiles were shot down mid-flight, but several ships had been heavily damaged by the first volley and their defenses were compromised. Murrue had the satisfaction of seeing significantly more detonations on target here than in the initial wave, and multiple warships began their descent into the depths.

Lieutenant Tsukino pumped her fist in triumph. "That's more like it!"

Murrue appreciated her subordinate's enthusiasm, though she did not join in it; she was concentrated purely on completing the mission. "Close the distance and lock in on the nearest targets with the Gottfrieds and Valiants. We need to wrap this up quickly."

"New contacts to the north, Captain!" her sensor officer announced, "They're warships. Transponder tags are Eurasian!"

Murrue clasped her hands together. "Good, our friends are on schedule. Leave the upper half of the fleet to them. Send the breakdown to my station."

She shifted her gaze towards her personal monitor, and the image on the screen changed to show the arrayed Eurasian Federation Pacific Fleet. The two Spengler-class carriers were hanging back, with three destroyers each assigned as escorts to the individual capital ships. Arrayed in a broad crescent formation with the apex of the arc facing the enemy were eleven cruisers and twenty-five destroyers. Had such a force attacked the Atlantic Federation fleet by itself, they would've been at a disadvantage and likely able to only eke out a draw or give their foe a pyrrhic victory. However, thanks to the combination of the earlier missile volleys and mobile suit strikes, what they were poised to do now was administer a coup de grace.

It must be soul-crushing for the surviving sailors in the fleet to see, Murrue thought as her gaze shifted back towards the remaining Atlantic Federation warships, nearly all of which were damaged to moderate or severe degrees, to have remained in the fight through all this, only to have the main enemy fleet now arrive. I suppose I should feel more pity towards them, but… well, I think I know how they'd be acting if the shoe was on the other foot. Best to remove them from the field now.

"We have solutions locked in for the big guns, Captain!" Lieutenant Tsukino announced.

"Then don't let me hold you up," Murrue replied, "Fire at will."

Heavy particle beams and linear cannon rounds flew downrange, and not just from the Archangel; the Chimaera joined the larger warship with fire from her two forward centerline superfiring dual heavy beam cannons and side-slung 100cm linear cannons. At the same time, shells and missiles billowed forth from the Eurasians in the north. Caught between Terminal to the south, the Eurasian Federation Navy to the north, and mobile suits from both overhead, the end result was annihilation. A few scattered shells and missiles came back from the Atlantic Federation, but most of the former simply splashed around the Archangel while a couple glanced off the white battleship's armor, and the latter were shredded by a combination of CIWS fire and particle beams from Dante and Ingrid's Murasames.

As their surviving warships were pulverized by the naval barrage, the last of the Atlantic Federation mobile suits still in the fight were finally put down. That left all Terminal and Eurasian Federation air units free to join in on finishing off the enemy fleet, and they wasted no time in doing so. Fresh pillars of golden-yellow hellfire rained down from both Wing Zero Albion and the Vayeate Kai, joined by a lance of crimson energy from the Launcher Pack-equipped Skygrasper. A stricken cruiser found itself at the tender mercy of Deathscythe Omega, with Duo using his signature weapon to carve the vessel in half. The two Hyperions of Espada Team opened up with their Forfanterie beam cannons, blasting apart a pair of destroyers. The rest of the allied mobile suits put in their share of shots, and soon the last guns of the Atlantic Federation fleet went silent.

"All targets either sunk or in the process of doing so," the sensor officer reported.

"Captain, I'm getting multiple confirmed sightings of life rafts," Flay chimed in, "How will we handle the survivors?"

"The Eurasian Federation Navy will take them aboard," declared Major Gardinier, who was standing behind Flay's station, "We'll unfortunately have to take them to Orb with us in the short-term, but from there we can make arrangements to have them shipped to POW camps in the Eurasian Federation. They'll get to sit out the rest of the war in relative comfort before repatriation."

Murrue nodded. "Be sure to contact Cagalli once we've stabilized the situation in Orb; her government can take steps to help with temporary housing and provisions for the POWs until transport can be set up."

"I will do so," Major Gardinier confirmed, "The North American resistance also has an asset in the region that would prove useful as part of the temporary housing measures."

Murrue smiled. "You're referring to that old liner they refitted, right? I think that would work out nicely. Pass a request along to them and see if they'll accept."

"I'll have the message out shortly," Major Gardinier replied, "and I don't foresee them refusing. After all, each prisoner they take is a chance for new intel or recruits if they can persuade them during interrogation."

"All the better, then," Murrue remarked before turning her attention back to the rest of her crew, "Begin recovery operations. Once all our units are back aboard, dive and set course for Orb."

As her instructions were carried out, Murrue's eyes went to her personal monitor as updates came in. A pit formed in her gut when she saw the loss figures. The strike team from the Archangel was completely intact, but one of the Chimaera's pilots was confirmed KIA. As for the mobile suits which had sortied from the Eurasian Federation's carriers, seven were confirmed lost while another nine were sporting moderate to severe damage.

It won't get any easier, Murrue grimly reminded herself as she turned to watch the units from her ship approach, her gaze focusing on Heero's Gundam, I know we have plenty of bloody battles left ahead. All I can do is keep on fighting and make today's casualties count for something.

….

While the bulk of the Orb Union's population resided on the nation's large central island, as a southwestern Pacific state the country's sovereign territory included dozens of much smaller islands. The closest most of those got to being considered population centers were perhaps a handful of villages, mostly consisting of people who preferred a quieter and secluded life compared to the hustle and bustle of Orb's main island. Only a handful contained anything approaching a city, and even those were by necessity much smaller than Orb's capital. Far more common was for these 'outer islands' to house either small tourist resorts for private getaways or to be used as outposts for security forces, whether they be Orb's actual military or the nation's civil search and rescue forces.

Uingu Shima was one such island. Situated on the nation's southern periphery, it was not much to look at, consisting of a wing-shaped spit of sand and rock that was about roughly a dozen kilometers long from east to west and slightly more than three kilometers thick from north to south. The sole habitable facilities on the island were a small combination airfield and port, the former typically used for recon and rescue flights while the latter was a base for several patrol boats.

After the Seirans had brought the Orb Union into the Earth Alliance, several Atlantic Federation PMCs had been contracted to bolster the security perimeter of the outer islands. One of the more prominent among them was an entity known as Rogue Coyote, and Uingu Shima was one of the islands that the PMC had been assigned to garrison. The company had gotten to work quickly, shipping in prefabricated structures for supplementing housing and admin capacity at the airfield while at the same time expanding the modest port facilities to support additional patrol boats armed with bow-mounted twin dual-purpose 40mm autocannons, torpedo tubes and light short-range anti-air missile launchers owned by the mercenaries. Since Uingu Shima was one of the islands along the most direct route a potential ZAFT fleet from Carpentaria would likely take for an attack, the PMC had poured a good deal of its resources into fortifying its new holding.

What had once been a sleepy island was now something between an outpost and a fortress. Artillery positions had been quickly set up, along with surface-to-air missile batteries. Those static defenses were augmented by dozens of Dagger Ls, purchased cheaply as military surplus and outfitted with a mix of Doppelhorn and Jet Striker Packs. The PMC had completely taken over operations on Uingu Shima, much to the displeasure of the Orb Union soldiers already assigned to the island. The mercenaries had wasted no time in throwing their weight around, and while the previously assigned Orb Union personnel continued to carry out their duties, they only cooperated with Rogue Coyote's members at a begrudgingly bare-minimum level. Thanks to the mercenaries alienating the local Orb troops, dissatisfaction and resentment had bred amongst the latter quite quickly…

…and had made them very receptive to covert entreaties from Terminal's network of contacts within the Orb Union.

Unbeknownst to the members of Rogue Coyote strutting about Uingu Shima like they owned the place, every detail regarding their force deployment and defenses had been compromised quite some time ago.

And they were about to find that out the hard way.

….

Flying in a broad, lazy looping patrol pattern over the waters just off the eastern shore of Uingu Shima, Rogue Coyote pilot Triston Moss, callsign Hyena 3, could not shake a sense of apprehension. In his late twenties, the blond haired and brown eyed mercenary had hoped that signing on with Rogue Coyote would lead to easy money. After all, the company tended to take on either defensive contracts or jobs where they would be going after insurgents or bush fighters and would therefore easily have the firepower advantage. When Triston and his fellow guns-for-hire had set up shop on Uingu Shima, he'd figured that this contract would be mostly centered around patrol and intimidation. For the most part, he'd been right; ZAFT might have had scouts occasionally buzz the perimeter, but by and large the Coordinators were keeping their forces well beyond Orb's territorial waters and avoiding engagement.

There was always the chance that ZAFT could change their minds and order an attack, of course. Even a probe of the defenses could get dicey if the Coordinators concentrated on a single point. Given the way that the war was going, Triston was half-expecting ZAFT to start getting more aggressive in the area. After all, with the Atlantic Federation Navy now forced to fight the Eurasians for control over the Atlantic Ocean while their Pacific fleet had been ravaged at the start of the war, it was not like the Americans could spare much in the way of reinforcements if ZAFT decided to make a push. Sure, there was the fleet that Triston had heard was on the way down towards Orb, but from what he understood those ships would not be taking up positions along the southern nautical border like the forces of Rogue Coyote.

They're supposed to keep that noble who's paying us in line, he thought, although it seems like a waste if you ask me. We need those ships down here way more than the old man back on the main island does.

Tuning into the tactical channel, Triston contacted his wingman. "Hyena 3 to Hyena 4, you got anything?"

"Negative," Hyena 4 replied from his position some ways to the rear of Hyena 3, "All quiet."

That was not too surprising; Hyena 3 and 4's Jet Dagger Ls were both patrolling in what was designated the inner ring of the island's airborne sentries. If anyone was going to find something, it would be the guys flying the outer ring.

So, Triston reached out to them. "Hyena 1 and 2, got anything out there?"

"All clear so…" Hyena 1 started to announce before pausing, "Wait… what's that?"

Triston's eyes narrowed. "Hyena 1?"

"What's that red light?" he heard Hyena 1 ask, though the question seemed more for himself than any of his fellow mercenaries.

Hyena 1's voice then took on a note of panic. "Wait… shit! Contact approaching fast!"

"Mobile suit?" asked Triston, already angling to head towards Hyena 1's position.

"It's…" Hyena 1 began to say before his voice was consumed by static.

"Hyena 1? Hyena 2? Respond!" Triston called out in growing concern.

"This is Hyena 2!" Hyena 1's wingman replied, "We've got…"

Hyena 2's voice was likewise consumed by harsh static, and Triston saw what looked like an orange-yellow flash on the eastern horizon. It was almost certainly Hyena 2's Jet Dagger L exploding…

…and Triston could now see a streak of scarlet light coming from that explosion straight towards him.

He and Hyena 4 took aim, sending volleys of particle beam fire downrange with their rifles while at the same time loosing air-to-air missiles from the hardpoints beneath the wings of their Jet Striker Packs. It did very little good; the crimson mechanical demon charging their way folded its wings in, and the particle beams splashed against the bloodred energy shields that materialized over their surfaces. As for the missiles, they were shredded by precise bursts of CIWS fire which came from the mobile suit's head. The demonic unit continued its charge, its emerald energy sword blazing as dawn's first rays crept over the eastern horizon.

Triston and Hyena 4 kept up their fire while calling for reinforcements, the mercenary's panic growing as his foe drew rapidly closer with each passing second. At the same time, he was vaguely aware of multiple chimes coming from his sensors as new contacts were detected. Triston did not have time to check them out, though; his current target demanded complete focus. The blazing green energy sword of his foe drew Triston's gaze like a moth to flame, so much so that he almost missed the unit's nasty-looking whip until it unfurled and shredded Hyena 4 in the blink of an eye. Triston ignited his Dagger L's violet beam saber, and by some miracle he managed to block the crimson machine's opening energy sword strike. Not that it would save the mercenary, for his foe was now bringing their whip to bear against him.

Just before Triston was cut down by the Gundam's Heat Rod, he caught sight of a strange silhouette upon the water by the gleaming rays of early morning light. It was a good distance behind the mobile suit, and its appearance convinced Triston that he was hallucinating. There was no way that one of those was active out here. Its time had come and gone long ago, when the Rising Sun and the Stars and Stripes had waged a brutal conflict over these waters in a bygone era. That sleek hull, that rising superstructure bristling with antennae and ant-air armaments, those three massive turrets, two superfiring forward and one aft… they were surely all nothing more than the fevered imaginings of a man who was about to die.

Then the demonic Gundam's whip tore into Triston's machine, and thoughts of World War II battleships in the age of mobile suits ceased to concern him.

….

Not a bad start, Shemei thought as she claimed her fourth kill of the day, I'm on schedule, so that means the others should be popping up any second… ah, there they are!

While she had come in from the east, the other members of the Dominion's strike team had taken a longer course and were now approaching Uingu Shima from the south. Their presence was announced by My La Flaga bagging a patrolling Jet Dagger L with a single shot from his beam rifle, while a torrent of bullets from Heavyarms Arsenal destroyed the earlier victim's wingman. Coming in below them was Quatre, angling for a patrol boat with Rogue Coyote's canine skull logo emblazoned on the hull. Sandrock Saladin's Heat Shotels made quick work of the craft, and that would hardly be Quatre's last kill of the day.

Shemei poured on even more acceleration as she raced towards the island. It was imperative that she get over Rogue Coyote's base before the others, and that was not out of an ace pilot's pride. Gundam Epyon Revenant's role in this operation was to do more than just eliminate individual enemy units; it was to provide targeting data to the warship on the eastern horizon.

So, the Valkyrie zigzagged across the sky as more Jet Dagger Ls moved to intercept while surface-to-air missile launchers on the island let fly. Anti-air machine guns and Doppelhorn Dagger Ls added their own fire to the mix, with Shemei dutifully tagging them with the Gundam's Search Eye while cutting down any Jet Dagger Ls that were unfortunate enough to come within sword and whip range. As the boys worked their way through the southern combat air patrol, Shemei patiently awaited the imminent fireworks.

A booming roar then echoed from the east, and a series of anti-air emplacements were obliterated by nine massive detonations. So powerful was the incoming ordinance that it sent plumes of dirt, sand, and rock soaring skywards, making it appear as though the island had suddenly given birth to a series of brown geysers. As the echo faded and the debris fell, Shemei briefly turned her gaze towards the source of those shots; a relic from the halls of naval history brought back to life.

She's ridiculously obsolete in this day and age, Shemei mused with a smirk as she weaved through particle beams and shells while shredding missiles with her head-mounted CIWS, but I have to admit, she still packs one hell of a punch!

With the rising sun behind her, she cut a glorious image. Coming in at 270.4 meters in length with a beam of 33 meters and a draft of 11.5 meters, her nine 16-inch guns trained on Uingu Shima, was BB-63; USS Missouri. Carefully restored and brought back online by the North American resistance for one last war, she was the heavy firepower for this operation. While each of her main guns could only fire two rounds per minute, she thankfully had more than just big shells to throw around. Following the opening barrage came a salvo of cruise missiles, racing across the water and raining down on a series of heavy artillery and surface-to-ship missile launchers which had been hastily rotating to draw a bead on the battleship and instead found themselves blown to smithereens.

"Not bad, old girl," Shemei remarked as she deflected a beam saber strike from a Jet Dagger L before ripping the machine apart with her Heat Rod, "Looks like you've still got plenty of fight left in ya!"

That being said, Shemei didn't want to test the old girl's luck. The Missouri's armor was designed to thwart incoming shells and ordinance such as bombs or rockets from aircraft; it was not meant to stop particle beams. Sure enough, Shemei caught sight of a trio of Jet Dagger Ls which were already angling towards the warship, beam rifles raised. She raced to intercept, ripping the lead machine apart with her Heat Rod as the other two scattered. The Valkyrie gave chase, impaling the second unit upon her beam sword before folding in her Gundam's outer wings to tank emerald particle bolts from the third machine's rifle. She then gunned her engines and charged the third machine, slicing it cleanly in half with her sword.

As Shemei's latest victim fell, the Missouri once again cut loose with her three triple 16-inch turrets. The thundercrack of her guns was quickly followed by a fresh series of explosions and dirty geysers as another set of PMC surface and anti-air artillery emplacements were obliterated. Meanwhile, Quatre, Trowa and La Flaga were mercilessly tearing their way through the mercenaries' southern line, with Tallgeese Kai and Heavyarms Custom clearing the sky of enemy mobile suits while Sandrock Saladin hunted down and sank the rest of Rogue Coyote's patrol boats with its curved blades.

With the bulk of the enemy's remaining aerial mobile suits deployed to the south to take on the three Terminal units approaching from that vector, Shemei had an open shot at the units on the island itself. Cutting down the last Jet Dagger L in her way, Shemei dived towards the surface of Uingu Shima. Her target was a quartet of Doppelhorn Dagger Ls who were trying to line up shots against the distant Missouri. Shemei saw a series of splashes between the battleship and the island as the mobile suits' first shots fell short, and she had no doubt that the mercenary pilots were already correcting. Swooping in, she made a wide swing with her Heat Rod, taking the legs out from under one machine and ripping a second to pieces. Now in the midst of the survivors, she swung her beam sword in a broad arc, cutting down the remaining two units in one strike. Shemei immediately raced for the next formation of Doppelhorn Dagger Ls, determined to scour the island clean of their presence so the battleship could carry out her work uncontested.

As she tore into them like a wolf among sheep, a fresh volley of cruise missiles flew forth from the Missouri. One of the warheads was shot down by a lucky burst of anti-air fire, but the rest plunged into their targets, reducing additional shore artillery and surface-to-air missile launcher emplacements to smoldering wreckage. At the same time, a swarm of smaller missiles came from the south and bombarded additional emplacements; Heavyarms Arsenal had broken through the enemy's aerial defenses.

Shemei grinned as she stabbed a Doppelhorn Dagger L through the torso. "Nice of you to join me, Trowa!"

"Let's wrap things up here quickly," Trowa replied as he unleashed hell with his Gundam's Double Barrel Gatling Gun and Double Assault Beam Cannon, "Rogue Coyote's not the only merc group we need to deal with today."

As if on cue, Quatre and La Flaga joined him a moment later, having dispatched the last of the island's outer defenses. Now all four mobile suits tore into the ground units stationed on the island while the battleship continued its bombardment unopposed. Within minutes, the last of the enemy's mobile suits had been destroyed, and the final defensive emplacements fell silent not too long afterwards.

"Remember, leave the facilities themselves intact," Shemei ordered, "The Orb Union military will get good use out of them later."

"Not seeing much else to target besides them now," Quatre remarked.

"Time to move on?" La Flaga chimed in.

Shemei surveyed the island one last time before nodding. "Yeah, I think we're done here. Let's get a move on; the next island's not going to clear itself."

The Valkyrie and her comrades withdrew, while the battleship Missouri began a long arc that would take it around the island's northern shore. Plumes of smoke billowed up from the ruins of Rogue Coyote's defenses on Uingu Shima, with the few surviving mercenaries left in a state of shock, their will to fight completely broken.

They would have plenty of company in that before the day was over.

….

Reviewing her prepared remarks in the private communications suite of the Dominion, Cagalli turned to Eric Bristow. "Are you sure this is the right approach? It seems a bit… brutal."

"Remember who the target audience is," Eric replied, "When you address your people, then you'll be free to take the approach that comes more naturally to you. This speech, though, isn't meant for your people. The men that this ultimatum is for have zero respect for ideals such as compassion or peaceful coexistence. Your target audience here understands two things; greed and fear. We already tried appealing to the former, and it didn't pan out. Now, we go with the latter."

Cagalli sighed. "I get that, I just… it's not how I normally prefer to handle things. Rule through fear isn't what I want."

"You won't be ruling these men," Eric reminded her, "We want them out of Orb, and fear is now the best way to accomplish that. They'll already be feeling jumpy since their forces on the outer islands are getting hammered, and they'll have a very keen appreciation for what you'll be threatening them with. For this situation, fear is exactly what you want to use."

Cagalli looked at the console for a moment before turning back to the former ZAFT officer. "Will it work?"

Eric smiled. "At this moment, those commanders are panicking because their combat forces have been decimated. Their remaining units on Orb's mainland are for domestic security, not frontline battle; they're in no shape to stand against the force you command, and they know it. They're already frightened, which means now's the time to push them. You'll never get a better shot than this."

Cagalli slowly nodded. "I guess there's only way to find out."

She took a deep breath before putting on a nearby headset linked to the console. Eric leaned over her shoulder and adjusted the frequency. Once it was attuned to the right one, he gave her a thumbs up and stepped back.

It's all on me now, Cagalli thought as she steeled herself, I have to get this right.

Failure's not an option.

….

In the Orb Union's capital city, there was a dull grey building in the financial district that had far greater importance than its plain appearance let on. Passersby on the street or sidewalks below would not give it a second glance; anyone with a remote bit of curiosity would likely assume that it was an office owned by the bankers, hedge fund managers, shipping magnates or any of the other corporate entities that called the city's financial district home. In a way, they were right, for the building was owned by multiple companies. All those companies had one thing in common that the public might not suspect, though; their business model revolved around armed conflict.

All the PMCs that had been hired by the Atlantic Federation and Unato to help secure the Seiran family's hold on Orb had offices in the building. It was from here that they managed their operations in the Orb Union. Everything from force deployment, contract negotiation, armaments and supply acquisition, communications, recruitment, and more was run through this single nondescript structure in the heart of a dense civilian population center, with the common people being none the wiser.

It was in the building's underground tactical coordination and communications suite that the heads of the various mercenary companies were currently gathered, and the atmosphere was one of building dread. On one of the many large displays set into the wall was a map of the Orb Union, with particular focus on the outer islands and the PMC units stationed on them. Over the past few hours, the logos on the screen representing the various PMCs assigned to the islands had gone dark one after the other, which meant only one thing; the forces belonging to those PMCs had been soundly defeated. The heads of the companies were trying frantically to get information on what was happening, but only snippets had come in so far. They were clearly under attack, but who was doing the attacking was another matter altogether. It did not seem to be ZAFT; none of the transmissions that had come through so far indicated that, anyway.

Just who the hell was it, though? That was a question that Nazario Rafael, the head of Rogue Coyote, needed answered, and quickly. In his late forties and dressed in a plain business suit just like his fellow PMC heads, the tan-skinned man's hair had grayed rather early, with only a few bits of its former black sheen remaining. Like the rest of the mercenary head honchos in the room, Nazario was anxiously keeping an eye on the main display along the far wall and an ear open for any updates. As his PMC was the first to have its outer island holdings hit, he was more on edge than most.

It couldn't have been ZAFT, Nazario silently told himself, I've trained my men to fight against them; they'd be able to hold out for at least a while, and they could pull off an organized withdrawal if needed. None of that happened here, though, which means we're not up against the Coordinator military. Attacks across the outer islands would require a fleet, but there's been no sign of ZAFT making such a move. So, who the hell is hitting us?

Nazario pondered it for a few more seconds before his musings were interrupted by a shout from the man at the main communications console. "Sirs, we've got transmission coming in from a woman claiming to be Orb's Chief Representative!"

Nazario's head snapped back. Was it really the Athha bitch, or an imposter? Seeing as pretty much the whole world knew that Cagalli had fled Orb after the Seiran family had taken over, there did not seem to be much point in someone creating a fake Chief Representative. Still, the old merc leader's instincts leaned towards paranoia, and not without reason.

"Put her through!" barked one of Nazario's fellow merc leaders.

"Is it a visual feed?" asked another.

"Yes," the communications specialist replied, "Putting her up on the main screen now."

The eyes of Nazario and everyone else in the room shifted to the main monitor. Sure enough, the screen changed to show an image of a young blonde woman whose amber eyes were narrowed in fearsome glower. Her uniform was that of an Orb Union military officer, one that the Chief Representative was well-known for wearing.

"To the heads of the mercenary companies infesting my country," she began, her voice the growl of a furious lioness, "your combat forces on Orb's outer islands have all been destroyed, as has the Atlantic Federation fleet that was dispatched to cowl my pathetic uncle into compliance. I will soon be arriving to reclaim my rightful place as the leader of the Orb Union, and I will have affairs between us settled one way or the other before the day is out."

One of Nazario's colleagues scoffed, though Nazario could see a bead of sweat dribbling down the man's head. "You mean to dictate terms to us, girl? What can the likes of a princess who fled into self-exile bring to bear upon us?"

"For starters, the best pilots and most powerful mobile suits in the world," Cagalli countered, her tone ice cold, "They're called Gundams. Surely you've heard of them. I happen to be friends with them, including a certain Heero Yuy."

Nazario's blood chilled, but he did his best to maintain a façade of confidence. "You're bluffing. If you're calling us here, then you know where our headquarters is. You wouldn't dare unleash the Gundams in the heart of Orb's capital."

"No, I wouldn't," Cagalli replied in a manner that was far too calm for Nazario's liking, "because I wouldn't need to. I won't be having them target your headquarters; they'll be destroying your rides out of here. All those planes you have parked at the local airbase, those valuable transports in the harbor; all it takes is a word from me, and they'll all go up in flames. It wouldn't just be the Gundams targeting your assets, either; I have some very powerful warships at my beck and call, and the Orb Union Navy will be supporting them. You'll be trapped in Orb like the rats you are, and then I'll have your headquarters stormed by the army. If you think your platoons of third-rate rental cops can stand up to my troops, feel free to try."

The room was dead silent, and Orb's Chief Representative used the opportunity to ram her point home. "Here is my offer, gentlemen. If you order your remaining troops to stand down, you and your men will be given twenty-four hours to leave Orb's sovereign territory. If you do not, then you will all be declared enemies of the state, and I will show you no quarter."

The girl then leaned forward, her amber eyes ablaze with barely-contained wrath. "Those are my terms, gentlemen; surrender and get the hell out of Orb, or every last one of you will die."

….

When the screen went blank, Cagalli took off the headset and put it on the console before leaning back in her chair and letting out a heavy exhalation. "Well, that was… different."

"I know it's not how you'd prefer to handle negotiations," Eric pointed out as he stepped forward, "but you can't deny that it was effective here."

Cagalli slowly nodded as she recalled the terrified reactions of the various mercenary commanders. "You're right. Men like that… it really is only money and fear that speak to them. It's pathetic."

"No argument there," Eric concurred, "Still, for our purposes, it's also useful. By playing on the latter, we got what we wanted. The PMCs will no longer be a factor going forward. You did it, Cagalli."

"Let's not celebrate just yet," Cagalli replied, "We still have to convince the rest of Unato's supporters to throw in the towel."

Eric nodded. "True, but the worst obstacles were those that could put up an actual fight, and they're now dealt with. The Orb Union military hated having Unato's PMCs using their facilities, so us securing a surrender from them will only reaffirm to the armed forces that backing you is the right move. Once the police learn that the military is on our side, they'll stand down. Thanks to our prior outreach, the nobility is either on-side already or convinced that continuing to support Unato is not in their best interest."

Cagalli stood up. "Well, I guess there's only one thing left to do, then."

Eric smiled. "The Strike Rouge is ready to take off at any time. Let's get you home, Cagalli, and show your people that you're back in charge."

….

Sitting in his office, Unato's gaze was glued to the desktop monitor. Reports had been coming in all morning, each more alarming and ominous than the rest. First it had been the destruction of the Atlantic Federation fleet sent, then the attacks on the mercenaries holding Orb's outer islands, and now the leaders of said mercenaries were no longer responding to either Unato's lieutenants or the allies that Lord Djibril had left behind. To make matters worse, the Orb Union military leadership was now refusing to answer any of his calls. Unato didn't know exactly what was happening, but he could instinctually feel the walls closing in.

I'm still protected, he reminded himself as he looked out the window, I'm not vulnerable.

Six Jet Windams, all painted black, were patrolling the skies overhead. Another six Windams, these equipped with the Doppelhorn Striker Packs, were positioned on the ground. A radar installation was situated only a couple of kilometers behind his estate, and no warnings of any incoming enemies had been sounded. If there were, Unato knew the mansion's secret escape tunnel network like the back of his hand; he could slip out with no one being the wiser.

The situation was not great, but this was no call to panic. Surely one of his aides, or those serving as Djibril's proxies, would eventually be able to get accurate information and give him the full picture of events. All Unato had to do was wait patiently. He would not do himself any favors by giving into apprehension.

That calm went right out the window as the six Jet Windams circling above suddenly exploded.

Unato's face paled as he saw the detonations, and he was thrown back on his ass a moment later as fresh explosions went off much closer to the mansion. Scrambling to his feet, Unato searched frantically for the source, only to discover in horror that the six Doppelhorn Windams had been reduced to bits of superheated metal. His gaze went skyward, and he now found the airspace over his mansion occupied by three mobile suits with black and red paintjobs.

"Wraiths…" he murmured in mounting dread.

At that moment, his cell phone rang. Grabbing the device, Unato checked the caller identification, and his already-pale face became snow-white. He could always not take the call, but Unato suspected that would not solve his problems. If he was already being hit with armed strikes at his mansion, then his opponent likely had multiple ways of forcing him to accept communications.

So, as Unato accepted the call, he found himself hearing the very familiar voice of Orb's Chief Representative, speaking to him in a tone so chilling that he could have sworn it had started snowing in his office. "It's over, Unato. You've lost."

She wasn't calling him 'Uncle' or even 'Lord Seiran'; just 'Unato' now. If that wasn't a sign of just how visceral Cagalli's hatred of him had become, then Unato didn't know what would be.

That did not stop Unato from trying to bullshit his way out of the situation. "Lost? Whatever are you talking about, Lady Cagalli? If you're calling me like this, surely it means you're close to Orb, right? You're finally coming home, aren't you? I've been so worried about you, as have the people of Orb; your return is to be celebrated."

"Cut the crap," Cagalli snapped, "You usurped me and then dragged Orb into an alliance with the Atlantic Federation after they started a new world war and attempted nuclear genocide against thirty million people! Then you tried to use me as a puppet to keep our people on your side! You've been out for yourself and your family's fortune since before I was ever born, so don't pretend that you've suddenly grown a heart now."

"All I have ever done has been in the service of Orb," Unato protested, "I've only ever acted with the interests of our country and our people in mind."

"Would our people consider you selling out refugees for slaughter to be in their interests?" Cagalli growled.

Unato could've sworn his blood froze. "What… what game are you playing? That… that's absurd!"

"Oh, is it?" Cagalli replied, not even bothering to hide her contempt and disgust for him, "Turn on the TV and flip to a news channel, Unato."

Unato blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Cagalli answered, "Turn on the news. Pick any channel you want. Even that vile propaganda one that your fortune's been funding, for all I care. You might be interested in what they're reporting right now."

Unato went over to his desk and retrieved a remote from the top drawer. Pointing it at the flatscreen mounted on the office's left wall, he turned it on and went to the channel that Cagalli had derided as his 'propaganda' outlet. Personally, Unato had no problem with the descriptor; in his view, all media was propaganda in one form or another. News Of Orb, or NOO for short, was simply the network that Unato had deemed worthy of his investment. If an information outlet was willing to accept his money in exchange for favorable coverage of his family and government, well, then that simply proved his investing decision to be a wise one.

News Of Orb is mine, he thought, Cagalli has no chance of turning them against me, no matter what she might have uncovered regarding my dealings.

Or so he believed, right up until he saw the blaring red bar on the bottom of the screen with bright yellow text reading 'Lord Unato Seiran a confirmed traitor of Orb and a war criminal.'

Unato's head snapped back in astonishment. "What? This… this isn't right!"

Yet his disbelief was countered by cold reality as the current talking head, a raven-haired woman with bright green eyes dressed in a white pantsuit, spoke. "We have confirmed evidence that Lord Unato Seiran engaged in previously secret communications with the Atlantic Federation during the First Bloody Valentine War, and that the Seiran family took bribes from the late leader of Blue Cosmos, Muruta Azrael. From what we understand, in exchange for transfers of funds and the promise of future political support, Unato and the late Yuna Seiran provided critical information to the Atlantic Federation regarding the defenses of Orb's Elysium Colony, which was subsequently attacked. Lord Unato and Yuna, from what we now know, also arranged so that thousands of refugees inside the colony, the bulk of whom were Coordinators, were not properly evacuated, and instead were left exposed and vulnerable to attacks from Atlantic Federation mobile suits."

Unato vehemently shook his head back and forth in denial. "No… no, no, no, no!"

He clicked a button on the remote, changing to another news outlet. Much to his dismay, this one was reporting on the same topic, and in much greater detail than NOO. Cycling through the rest of Orb's mainstream media outlets in growing terror, Unato found them all reporting on the exact same story.

"Has it sunk in yet, Unato?" Cagalli growled in his ear, "All of Orb, no, all the world, now knows what you've done. You're finished, Unato."

"It… it's all fake," Unato stammered in panic, "F-fake news! Lies, f-fabrications. You crafted all this for the purpose of ousting me. This is your justification for a coup!"

"I am Orb's Chief Representative," Cagalli replied, "I have held that position throughout this war; you simply sought to marginalize me and claim my position's authority and power for yourself. I left the country rather than allow you to use me as your puppet, and now I have returned to reclaim the duties and responsibilities that you usurped and perverted in the name of your ambition and greed."

"T-the decisions I've made are all in Orb's best interests!" Unato countered shrilly.

"You call betraying our nation's founding ideals and aiding a genocidal regime in a war of conquest and slaughter to be in Orb's interests?" Cagalli shot back, "All you did was announce to the world that Orb is a puppet of the Atlantic Federation, eager to aid and abet in every crime they wanted to commit. Those days are over, Unato."

"Y-you won't get away with this," Unato shakily claimed, "I-I still have p-powerful allies in the government and the courts!"

"Then you'd better start practicing your legal defense," Cagalli cooly remarked, "because you'll need a damn good one when my administration puts you on trial for crimes against humanity. The evidence of your treachery from the last war being broadcasted across all of Orb's major media outlets is just a taste of the case I'm assembling against you. Consider yourself lucky that Orb abolished the death penalty decades ago, Unato, because the charges against you will include treason."

"Y-you'll never make them stick," Unato said defiantly.

"Oh, I think we will," said Cagalli, "For now, consider yourself under house arrest. You've already seen what my allies can do to your mercenary protectors, so I would advise not trying to run. Enjoy your mansion while you still can, because eventually you'll be trading it for life in prison. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a government to restore and a war to end."

….

It took nearly all Cagalli's concentration just to keep the Strike Rouge straight and level as she approached Takanosu Air Base. The facility was both Orb's largest air defense base and the one that was closest to the capital, which was why it had been chosen as the site for Cagalli's literal and symbolic landfall. Landing at the base should've by no means been difficult; in addition to the multiple wide and long traditional runways, Takanosu had several broad areas designated specifically for landing mobile suits and helicopters. Cagalli herself had actually made the landing several times in the past as part of routine flight practice, even doing so during her tenure as Orb's Chief Representative, much to the bemusement and chagrin of her various government ministers. Even as the leader of her country in peacetime, she insisted on maintaining her skills.

This flight should be almost pure muscle memory for you by now, Cagalli told herself, Come on, keep it together. The last thing you need is to botch the landing when all the cameras are watching.

With all that had unfolded since the day's operations had gotten underway, Cagalli found it jarring when she glanced at the time on her cockpit display and saw that it was not even noon yet. An Atlantic Federation fleet destroyed, multiple mercenary formations spread across Orb's outer islands decimated, the leaders of the PMCs surrendering to her, her uncle under de facto house arrest, and a government restoration in full swing before lunch… it was dizzying to think about. There was still plenty of work left to be done before the day was out, and Cagalli could already picture herself just faceplanting on the bed and passing right out when it was all over.

"Too bad the Waltfelds are up in space right now," she muttered with a weary smile, "I could really use one of the Desert Tiger's special coffee blends…"

Cagalli could at least take comfort in the fact that she was not making the flight in alone. Escorting her were a dozen Murasames, six on each side of the Strike Rouge arrayed in a split-delta formation. There were acting as an honor guard courtesy of the Orb Union military, a gesture which showed that the country's armed forces were indeed behind her. Other Orb mobile suit and fighter squadrons were patrolling the surrounding airspace, keeping her flight corridor clear.

Cagalli's console then chimed, and a male voice came over the cockpit speakers. "This is Takanosu Base Air Traffic Control to Strike Rouge. Lady Cagalli, do you copy?"

"I copy, Takanosu Control," Cagalli answered, "Am I clear for landing?"

"You are," the flight controller confirmed, "Sending designated landing zone data to you know. Please acknowledge when received."

Studying her display, Cagalli saw the data come through a moment later and immediately began altering her approach vector. "Received, Control. Adjusting now."

"Good," the flight controller replied, "Lady Cagalli? Welcome home."

Cagalli smiled and nodded, even though the feed was strictly audio. "Good to be home, Control. Sorry I was away for so long."

"We understand, Lady Cagalli," the flight controller remarked, his voice becoming somewhat lighter as Cagalli imagined the speaker smiling, "Everyone knows what the Seirans have done. As long as you're back now to set things right, that's all that matters."

"I am, Control," Cagalli confirmed, "We still have a long road ahead of us before we'll reach the end of this crisis, but we can start making steps in that direction today."

"We can," the flight controller concurred, "Safe landing, Lady Cagalli. Control, out."

Beginning her descent, Cagalli could see a sizable crowd already gathering at her designated landing site. Kisaka would be among them, as would senior Orb military leaders, and Cagalli knew that she could count on them for a friendly welcome. Others in attendance would include government ministers and members of the press. Those, she was a bit more nervous about meeting, especially the latter.

I'm really not in the mood for interviews right now, she thought, I've got way more important things on my plate right now than statements to the media. Still, I suppose it's a necessity. Guess all I can hope for is that we can make it quick. I have my prepared remarks memorized, at least. As for anything else… well, I'll just have to improvise and hope for the best.

She brought the Strike Rouge down with the utmost care while her escorts circled overhead. A large hauler was already on its way over; it would move her mobile suit to a nearby hangar where it would be stored until Terminal could retrieve it. Powering down her machine, Cagalli took a deep breath. Then she popped the hatch and stepped out. Her friends had all done their jobs admirably, and now she would do the same.

For the first time since the war had begun, Cagalli's feet touched Orb sovereign territory. The nation's Chief Representative was home, and she had much work to do.

….

"We're in, Captain," the helmsman reported.

"Then bring her to surface," Murrue ordered.

With combat operations having ended and her mobile suits recovered, Murrue had taken the Archangel to one of the covert docking facilities that Morgenroete had scattered across the Orb Union. She would have liked to go back to Home One, but that was no longer an option; after they had evacuated following ZAFT's black ops raid, their old facilities were considered compromised and had been cleared out by a stay-behind unit. All of their belongings and any personnel who wouldn't be coming with the Archangel or Dominion had been moved to hidden storage facilities and safehouses, all the data downloaded before purging the computers, and the bunkers and docks destroyed as asset denial.

It's going to be a real pain moving into a new residence once the war's over, Murrue thought, but I suppose getting to experience that hassle means I'll have survived, so it balances out.

As the Archangel surfaced within the secret dock, Murrue's gaze turned towards the main monitor. It had been showing various newsfeeds for the past several hours, all of which had running the same story non-stop; Cagalli's return to Orb. The Chief Representative had already given her initial address to the nation, and from what Murrue understood the various government ministers had pledged their loyalty. The military and security forces were firmly behind her, her return was being portrayed positively in the media, and work was already underway to officially withdraw Orb from the Earth Alliance. The actual announcement would no doubt spread apprehension through the people as they would naturally fear a repeat of the Atlantic Federation invasion from two years ago, but that would hopefully be mitigated when Cagalli followed it up with the proclamation of a new alliance with the Eurasian Federation and an impending security treaty.

As the Archangel rose out of the water in the hidden dock, Murrue watched through the main viewport various Morgenroete workers scurrying about. A passenger disembarkation gangway was at the ready, as was a much larger cargo loading ramp. Topping off munitions and supplies was an immediate priority for Murrue, and she had made the appropriate arrangements with Erica Simmons have that process underway practically the moment that the Archangel was securely in her new berth. The Chimaera was patrolling outside beneath the waves while the Archangel underwent resupply, and the warships would swap places once the latter completed replenishment.

A minute later, the helmsman looked over his shoulder at Murrue. "We're locked in, Captain."

"Good," Murrue replied as she stood up and turned to her XO, "Lieutenant Tsukino, you have the bridge. I'll be back shortly; there are some matters I need to attend to in my office."

Her pale-skinned and raven-haired second-in-command nodded as she moved to take Murrue's seat. "Understood, Captain."

Murrue left the bridge and set a brisk pace through the ship's corridors. She arrived at her office quite quickly and found both Heero and Major Gardinier standing just outside the door.

Murrue smiled in greeting. "Good, you're already here. Are you ready?"

"Just about," Heero replied as he nodded at the office door, "There are a few details we need to finish hammering out."

The door slid open, and the three of them stepped inside. The instant the door was closed, Murrue turned to Major Gardinier.

"Have the funds been transferred?" Murrue asked.

Major Gardinier nodded. "I got the confirmation from Miss Simmons just a little bit ago; matching contributions from both Moscow and the Atlantic Federation showed up in the appropriate account. Mister Bristow and Colonel Kisaka confirm that contact has been made with Unato's security personnel, and they've agreed to the arrangement."

"The Wraiths still have the mansion under observation," Heero added, "I reached out to Natarle earlier, and she confirmed they're ready. They'll pull back at our order, and Lan will be the one to cloak and return; Adaline and Priscille will head out to sea under the guise of investigating unknown contacts. It's as good a justification as any should Cagalli ask questions afterward."

"She'll probably be suspicious of that justification," Murrue remarked, "but seeing what Unato's done and what he has coming to him, I doubt she'll press too hard on the matter. Still, having additional layers of deniability in place for her doesn't hurt."

"Agreed," said Heero, "I already checked over the rifle in the armory; it's cleaned, disassembled and packed. I'll leave in a bit and set up on site. Shinn should be just about ready."

"About that, Monsieur Yuy," Major Gardinier interjected, "Are you sure about bringing him along? It strikes me as unnecessary."

"He needs this," Heero replied, "It's the only chance he'll really get at closure."

Murrue took a deep breath. "Can we trust him to keep his mouth shut when it's all over?"

Heero nodded firmly. "We can, Murrue. He has every bit of incentive as we do to make sure this goes off smoothly. Shinn won't talk. Count on it."

Murrue exhaled heavily before smiling. "Well, if he has your vote of confidence, then I suppose that's good enough for me. What about Duo? He'll be watching your back down there, right?"

"I spoke with him earlier," Heero answered, "He's ready to go and take up position as soon as I give the word."

"Then I suppose everything's in order," said Murrue as she met his gaze, "I know this is hardly a difficult task by your standards, but still… be careful, okay?"

"Roger that," Heero affirmed.

….

Still inside the office in his mansion, Unato sat behind the desk in a state almost approaching catatonia. From his comfortable chair, he had watched the news throughout the day in stupefied silence, his mind processing unfolding events with a strange sense of detachment, as if he was merely a spectator to his own life now. In a sense, perhaps he was; his life as he knew it had ended today.

Djibril had fled Orb before the fighting had begun; he was well on his way to Luna by now. The liaison that he had left for Unato to communicate through was in a state of shock similar to that of Unato, and the noble hadn't heard anything from him so he assumed that the man was still sitting in dumbfounded incredulity. Supposedly there were other members of LOGOS hiding out in Orb, but none of them had contacted Unato all day and it was unlikely that he'd be hearing from them now. Unato had been left to his own devices, and he did not know what to do.

With word of his family's treachery in the last war now splashed across screens in every household in Orb, House Seiran was effectively finished. Unato's primary heir was dead, while the secondaries were a smattering of cadet branch relatives who would could never hope to carry the line to prominence again. They would no doubt rip each other apart in fighting over the estate's remnants, and that would be after Cagalli's administration had taken a good cut of it. After all, with the head of the Seiran family now declared a traitor, Cagalli's government had ample pretext for asset seizure.

Unato could already picture his bleak future. The trial might as well be over already; from what he had seen on the news, the evidence arrayed against him was utterly damning. He might get a more comfortable cell than most given his social status, but it would still amount to life behind bars. The former head of House Seiran would rot away in obscurity, his legacy torched to ashes, eventually to die completely forgotten by the world.

There was no way out. Well, that was not strictly true, but Unato couldn't contemplate suicide. He didn't have the nerve for the deed, and his pride would not let him ask another to assist.

How had it come to this? None of it was supposed to play out like this. He had placed Orb on the strongest side, ingratiated himself with the puppet masters of the Atlantic Federation, entered his nation into the Earth Alliance for both security and to forestall potential invasion. The naïve and foolish Cagalli had been marginalized, reduced to a figurehead and unable to interfere. Everything had been perfectly planned and calculated, yet it had all come crashing down.

So numb to the world was Unato that he didn't even realize one of his guards had entered the office until a heavy hand fell upon his shoulder. "Lord Unato? If we're going to escape, now's the time."

Unato looked up at the man and blinked rapidly, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. "Escape?"

The guard, a broad and imposing man with dark skin and close-cut black hair, nodded. "LOGOS can have a speedboat rendezvous with us in the harbor; it'll take you to a submarine they've got waiting about ten kilometers off shore."

"We would never be able to leave the mansion grounds," Unato replied, "The Wraiths are out there."

The guard shook his head. "Respectfully, sir, they're not. They actually left just a few minutes ago."

Intrigued, Unato stood up for the first time in several hours, stretched, and went over to the window. Cautiously pulling back the curtain, he peered out into the night sky overhead. There was no sign of the Wraiths, but given their capabilities, that didn't necessarily mean much.

"How do you know they're gone?" Unato asked, "They could have just cloaked."

"The guys in the surveillance room saw all three pull out," the guard answered, "They flew off to the south. Not sure what's drawn them away, and we don't know when they'll be back. If we're going to make a break for it, it has to be now."

Unato hesitated. "This submarine that LOGOS has waiting for me… where would it take me? They've lost North America."

"Not all of it," said the guard, "It sounds like they still hold a few redoubts, especially in the north of the country. Also, they have that new mass driver in Anchorage, so they could take you there and send you into outer space to join Lord Djibril until LOGOS can help you reclaim Orb. None of that will matter if we don't seize this opportunity now, though."

Unato would normally prefer more time for making a decision as important as this one. However, time was not a luxury available to him now. This was a risk to be sure, but then again, what did he have to lose at this point? It was either gamble and run or wait to be tried and sentenced. At least one option offered a chance at future recovery.

"Alright," Unato finally said, "Let's go."

The guard nodded. "Follow me, sir."

He led Unato out of the office, where three of his compatriots then fell in around the disgraced aristocrat. They moved quickly through the mansion's plush halls, with Unato wishing they could go perhaps a bit slower so he could savor the fine art decorating the walls and the exquisite views of the estate grounds through the windows. This would be the last time that he'd see his mansion, and Orb itself, for likely quite a while. Still, sacrifices had to be made in the name of his escape.

They went down into the mansion's underground garage, passing by rows of colorful and gaudy sportscars that would never again be used; they were Yuna's purchases, and Unato found them far too tacky for his tastes. Besides, this was supposed to be a quiet slipping away by night, so taking a bright red Ferrari or nauseatingly yellow Maserati would completely defeat the purpose of a low-profile escape. Instead, Unato's guards ushered him into a plain black sedan, one indistinguishable from a fleet of identical vehicles used by Orb government officials.

As the car revved up and drove up the ramp out of the garage and onto the long central driveway of the estate, Unato cast nervous glanced towards the night sky. Yes, the guards had said that the Wraiths were gone, but could they really be sure? Maybe they had only pretended to leave and had simply cloaked before returning.

The sedan was well clear of the estate grounds before Unato would finally allow himself to relax a bit. If the Wraiths were still present, they would've either already fired or revealed themselves by now. Cagalli would not dare have her militant friends attack him in the middle of Orb's highways and risk potential civilian casualties, so he felt reasonably confident that he was safe. The sedan had a police scanner built into the main console, with one of the guards constantly monitoring it, and there seemed to be no word as to Unato's flight so far.

She got sloppy, Unato thought with a smug smirk, She's so focused on getting her government up and running that she forgot to make sure her rival for power was securely locked away. Foolish mistake, my naïve niece, and one that I will most certainly make you regret.

It took about half an hour for Unato's sedan to transit from the countryside to the outskirts of Orb's capital. Rather than take the most direct route to the port, the driver had to go in a wide arc sticking to the city's periphery; it would be stupid to go into the capital's heart give the current state of affairs. Cagalli's allies would've made sure to have checkpoints and sentries in the major districts, and Unato could not afford to risk being stopped and identified.

Winding its way down side streets and back alleys, the car eventually made its way into one of the less reputable sections of Orb's main port district. According to the police, the area was a prime entry point for smuggled goods, with law enforcement able to only limit the flow rather than stop it outright. Unato suspected that LOGOS had bribed the port authority officials responsible for the area in order to facilitate his escape.

Eventually, the sedan pulled into a parking lot set behind a labyrinth of shipping containers and cranes. As everyone stepped out of the vehicle, one of the guards passed a flip-phone to Unato.

"It's a burner," the guard explained, "The crew of the speedboat will be calling you on it soon. Once they've arrived, chuck it in the water."

Unato gripped it tightly; it was now his lifeline. "Alright."

The guards led him along a twisting course through the maze of stacked containers. There was hardly any lighting, which made for a rather spooky experience. They encountered no dockworkers or personnel of any kind, lending further credence to Unato's theory of them all being bought off. Then again, perhaps this part of the port had simply fallen into disuse, for many of the shipping containers he and his entourage passed by showed signs of damage and rusting.

They eventually cleared the artificial labyrinth, coming out onto a wide and open concrete area. It was right along the water, likely a mooring area for ships. Unato could not see any boats present; his ride had not yet arrived.

"Are we early?" he asked.

"Probably," the guard confirmed, "Best we move closer to the water so that we're easier for them to see when they pick you up."

Unato eagerly moved forward, coming almost to the edge. He cast a desperate gaze out over the water while his left hand had a death-grip on the phone. Seconds seemed to turn into hours, and nervous sweat began dripping from his brow.

"Where are they?" he muttered before turning around, "Are you sure that they're coming?"

Silence was the answer, and Unato realized that his guards were no nowhere to be seen. "Hello? Where did you go?"

No one spoke up in response. Peering into the darkness, Unato could not discern his escorts. Were they planning on hiding out in Orb while he fled the country? It would have been nice if they'd at least said as much, for their absence without explanation was quite unnerving.

Then the phone in Unato's hand buzzed, and he forgot all about his missing guards. In his haste to respond, he damn near dropped the thing, and he forced himself to take a deep breath to restore some measure of calm.

"Hello?" he said nervously.

The voice that responded was deep and inhuman; the speaker was almost certainly employing some kind of audio distortion. "Lord Unato Seiran?"

Unato hastily nodded. "Yes, it is me. I'm at the dock. Where are you?"

"Nearby," the voice replied, "It is almost time for you to make your exit. Before you do, though, an accounting is in order."

Unato was taken aback, but he recovered quickly. "An accounting? Do you mean to extort me? I wasn't told to bring money, but I can access my funds once we're in a safe place with a computer. I have accounts scattered across the world. Name your price, and you'll have it."

"I don't care about your money," said the voice, "It'll all be out of your hands soon enough in any case. I speak of a different sort of accounting. You have a deep blood debt that needs to be settled. Before your departure, you're going to kneel in penitence."

Unato was now thoroughly confused. "What nonsense is this?"

"I said kneel."

The mysterious voice's command was punctuated by a thundercrack followed by a searing flash of agony going through Unato's body. As he fell to the ground, Unato belatedly realized that the sound had been a gunshot, and as his shock wore off, he slowly became aware of the pain coursing through his nerves. He tried to stand, only to find his balance off as he flopped in a rapidly growing puddle of red fluid. Attempting to stand again only to faceplant on the concrete, Unato looked towards the source of the torment assaulting his body…

…and found that his right leg below the knee was gone.

"I supposed that's as close to kneeling as my friend and I will get from you tonight," the mysterious voice remarked from the cellphone that Unato still somehow miraculously held onto, "It'll have to do."

"Guards!" Unato shrieked in equal parts terror and torment, "Someone, anyone, help me!"

"Your guards have already left," said the voice, "and they will not be returning to aid you. There is no one else around other than you, myself, and my allies. I told you that an accounting was in order, and tonight the devil will take his due. Seeing the death and suffering you're responsible for in both this war and the last, your last moments lived in dread and pain is the least that you owe your victims."

"Who… who are you?" Unato rasped in agony and delirium, rapid blood-loss already taking its toll.

"For your purposes tonight, consider me the angel of death," the voice answered, "I normally prefer killing quickly, but you're an exception. After all, many of your victims didn't have the luxury of quick deaths. Did you ever read the final casualty reports concerning the attack on the Elysium colony two years ago?"

"N-no…" Unato stammered, sheer panic momentarily overriding incredible pain as he finally realized what was now taking place.

"I did," the voice replied, "The ones who died from direct fire were lucky; they went quickly. Plenty more were trapped under debris to suffocate, or were horrifically wounded and bled out. Agonizing ways to die. It's only fair that you now experience it firsthand."

Unato tried to speak, but words failed him. There was only excruciating torment courtesy of his wound, and the feeling of his life slowly draining away.

"There are two ways you can die tonight," the voice continued, "A slow bleed out, or a quick finishing shot. That choice is out of your hands; it belongs to my spotter. Given that your treachery resulted in his family's murder at Elysium, he has every right to drag this out. He might even have a few words for you."

There were a few seconds of silence before the voice spoke again. "Interesting… you're in luck. He wants to end this now. When you see Azrael and Yuna in Hell, tell them that their killer sends his regards. Farewell."

Unato was about to shriek a last desperate plea before a second gunshot roared through the night, and the words on the tip of his tongue went with him to the grave.

….

Shinn watched in silence as Heero swiftly yet meticulously disassembled the M82A-O anti-material rifle he had just used to end Unato's miserable life. Having already policed his spent cartridges, Heero made taking apart the weapon seem like nothing more than a chore, something that he could do in his sleep. Under other circumstances, there would have been considerable urgency to leave the sniping position atop the shipping container as quickly as possible, but from what Shinn understood there would not be anyone snooping around here for quite some time yet courtesy of judiciously applied bribery.

Shinn glanced down at the portable spotting scope he had been looking through earlier. Part of him was tempted to use it to look at Unato's body one last time, but given what Heero's final shot had done to the aristocrat's head… well, suffice to say that using dental records to identify the body would be an exercise in futility. Any coroner unlucky enough to land this autopsy would have to make do with fingerprints, though the cause of death would be blatantly obvious. Shinn caught sight of a black-clad figure coming out of the shadows, and it took him a moment to recognize them as Duo, his dark outfit a mirror of Heero's and Shinn's. Deathscythe Omega's pilot rushed over to Unato's corpse and seized the phone he had been using earlier. Shinn held the other one; he had kept it close to Heero's mouth so he could talk to Unato while still being able to snipe the man.

"Is… is this really okay?" Shinn eventually asked, gesturing at the mangled corpse and widening pool of blood, "Leaving… that behind, I mean. Don't we want to get rid of all evidence?"

"Any evidence of our involvement here will be disposed of," Heero replied as he finished putting the rifle parts away and closing the long black case he'd set them in, "but we do want the body to be found. It's not much of a message if the intended audience doesn't get it."

Shinn blinked in confusion. "Message?"

"This was about more than just closure for you and justice for Unato's many other victims," Heero elaborated, slinging the rifle case over his shoulder before beginning the climb down from the sniping perch, "When Unato's remains are discovered, it'll be an unspoken declaration to Orb's other noble families; try what he tried, suffer the same fate."

"Won't Cagalli catch heat for this?" Shinn pressed as he followed Heero down to the concrete.

"Questions will be asked," Heero remarked as he led the way towards the plain black sedan that they had taken here, "but Cagalli has deniability, and in more ways than one. Not only did we keep her out of this, but she's well-known throughout the world as a righteous leader with a strong sense of justice. She genuinely wanted Unato to stand trial; she'll say as much when asked about the affair, her words will be honest, and they'll be taken as such."

"She'll suspect you, though," Shinn pointed out while Heero popped the trunk and put the rifle case inside, "You kept her in the dark, but she's not an idiot."

"She can suspect all she wants," said Heero, "She'll never have proof. Besides, she won't press the matter too hard. She's got much bigger fish to fry, and whether she wants to admit it or not, Unato was a distraction that she's better off being rid of."

The two of them got in the car, with Shinn looking back towards the dock as Heero revved up the engine. "We're not waiting for Duo?"

"He took his own ride here, remember?" Heero countered, "He can take care of himself."

"And the guards?" Shinn inquired.

"Long gone," Heero said while pulling the car out towards the access road, "By now, the funds we offered will be hitting their accounts. I wouldn't be surprised if they've booked it to Oceania or the Equatorial Union by this time tomorrow; those bribes are enough to start a whole new life."

"They could talk," Shinn noted, "They're a threat."

"They don't know enough to implicate us or Cagalli," Heero pushed back, "They were contacted and paid through intermediaries, and were told nothing about the assassination plot; only that they were to take Unato to the docks and abandon him. I'm sure they're smart enough to fill in the blanks, but they don't have anything solid that can be used to identify us. Besides, Unato's death was a message to them as well; take the money, run, and keep quiet, or else. Good job making sure the bases are covered, though. You are learning quickly."

Shinn was not sure how to take that, so he sat in silence as Heero took them out to the main highway and began the drive back to the secret dock where the Archangel was berthed. Another question was eating at him, though, one that he could not keep to himself for long.

Eventually, he gave voice to it. "You're not going to ask why?"

Heero glanced at him before returning his gaze to the road. "Why what?"

"Why I didn't say anything to Unato when you gave me the chance" Shinn elaborated, images of the bleeding-out noble flashing through his mind, "Why I… wanted you to end him quickly."

Heero shrugged. "I figured you had your reasons, and I wanted to respect them. You don't have to justify your decision to me."

"Was it… the right call?" Shinn asked nervously.

"That's for you to decide, not me," Heero replied, "It was your choice, Shinn; you're the one who has to live with it."

"You were part of it, though," Shinn pointed out, "You're the one who shot him."

"Unato was a dead man from the moment we found proof of his involvement in the Elysium massacre," Heero countered, "Cagalli's noble intentions aside, there was a sizeable number of us within Terminal who were never going to give him the luxury of rotting away in prison for the rest of his life. Rich men like Unato always find a way to escape full accountability for their crimes. Even in confinement, even in prison, they can still live in relative luxury compared to poorer criminals. Believe me, I'm far from the only one who wanted to put bullets in him. If that weren't the case, then this plan could never have been put into action. I was always going to kill Unato, Shinn; your role was just to decide how quickly I sent him to the other side."

Shinn slumped in his seat. "Oh… okay."

"Not how you wanted things to play out?" Heero asked.

Shinn shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's… a bit more complicated."

"Plenty of drive time left if you need to put your thoughts in order," Heero noted.

Shinn took a deep breath and turned his gaze towards the window and the night sky. "I wanted him to suffer at first, you know. When you shared the evidence with me… when you showed me that Unato sold out my family… I wanted him to experience every bit of agony that my family and the rest of his victims felt. All of that and more. I was imagining him dying slowly, being tortured every second… right up until you put that first bullet in him."

He expected Heero to say something, but the Gundam pilot was silent, so Shinn continued. "The moment he went down, though… after all that I'd built him up in my head as some demon, when he hit the ground and started flailing… that image died. He was just a pathetic old man now… one who was dying. At that moment, I just… wanted it done with. All that anger and hate I had building up inside me just… evaporated. It's… exhausting, hating like that. I don't think I ever realized that until I met you. All the time I spent hating Orb, Cagalli, the Freedom… it's just like you said. It fuels you for a while, but eventually, it eats you from inside. Even though Unato was far more responsible for my family's death than Cagalli or Kira… I didn't want to go through that cycle again. Maybe he deserved hatred, but I was wearing myself out with it. I think it clicked for me when you put that first round into him. I could hold onto hatred like before… or I could let go and move on. Having you end him quickly wasn't revenge, even if he deserved to suffer. The old me, the guy I was before learning all that I have… that Shinn would've wanted Unato to suffer, would've fed off it… and would've gone somewhere pretty dark afterwards. I don't want that. I want to leave that Shinn behind. I want to be someone new."

"Someone who can give Stella a future free from that hatred and suffering?" Heero prodded.

Shinn found himself smiling as he turned to face Heero. "Someone like that, yeah… and someone that my family can look on from beyond and be proud of. They were kind. They didn't hate anyone. They always wanted to help people, to make sure that everyone around them was happy. People consumed by hatred made the world that killed my family, and I don't want to be like that. I want to make the world that my family believed in… one where that hatred has no place. One where Stella can be happy and safe… where no one has to suffer like her or may family did."

"Is that so?" Heero remarked, and Shinn thought he caught just a hint of a smile forming on his friend's lips, "I see."

A strange thought occurred to Shinn. "Is this… what you were really after tonight? Me making this decision, I mean."

"No," Heero replied, "The mission was to kill Unato while leaving Cagalli and her government with deniability, and we've done that. That being said, this is a bonus. It means I have an answer sooner than I thought I would. It means you're ready… if you want to be."

Shinn raised an eyebrow. "Ready for what?"

"To join us for real," Heero answered, "Terminal, I mean. Full membership, full information access, full responsibility; the whole package. Do you want it?"

Shinn's eyes widened in surprise. "You're serious?"

"I'm not exactly known for my sense of humor," Heero quipped, "Yes, I'm serious, Shinn. Do you want in?"

Shinn fell silent for several minutes as he gave the matter thought. An invitation like that was not what he'd expected going into today. He had been ready for the battle with the Atlantic Federation fleet, prepared for the operation to take out Unato, but he would've figured all of that was enough for one day. This was a curveball…

…but, the more that he considered it, one that he really should have been ready for by now.

"You don't have to make up your mind right away," Heero added, "It's a big decision. The commitments we demand of members are considerable. That's not to say you can't have a life outside of it, but when crisis comes, when a new conflict breaks out, there's only one place you can be; at your duty station. Our mission is to keep mankind from leaping into the abyss, like it almost did two years ago and could still do this time around. It's not something to be taken lightly. Even after the war ends, our watch continues. Whenever peace is threatened, we're expected to act at a moment's notice."

Shinn took a deep breath. "Would I still be able to watch over Stella?"

Heero nodded. "Of course. We would continue to protect her, making our arrangements for her beyond those that Cagalli's setting up. She'd be well-looked after, and in times of peace you can live a quiet life with her, though we would still call you in for training. If new conflict breaks out, then Stella would be sheltered in the network of safehouses that we use for the rest of our civilian family members, friends, and allies."

Shinn was quiet for a few more minutes before he finally smiled. "Well, in that case… yeah, I'd like to join. Is taking me in your call to make, though?"

"Not just mine," Heero conceded, "I would need to run it by a few of the other senior members before it can become official. Still, given your skills and all that you've done for us since leaving ZAFT, I don't foresee any opposition. Maybe a few concerns, but nothing you can't put to rest with a bit of work. We could probably get everything hammered out before tonight is over."

"Then let's do that," said Shinn, "The sooner it's official, the better."

"Agreed," Heero remarked, "Once you're in for real, you'll need a proper debriefing. There's a lot we'll have to fill you in on. Fair warning, though; the way you see the world's going to change big time."

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

Heero caught Shinn off guard with a chuckle. "Well… you just might be surprised."

Preview for next time!

Finally returned to Orb and restored to power, Cagalli sets herself to the arduous task of organizing her government and preparing her people for the tumultuous days ahead. Now back on friendly soil, the members of Terminal seize the opportunity to resupply and catch a brief respite from the war. Meanwhile, on the other side of the globe, ZAFT prepares for an all-out assault on the Atlantic Federation's Iceland stronghold Heaven's Base, all the while benefiting from a river of defectors from the Earth Alliance spurred on by what the world has now coined Durandal's 'LOGOS Address'. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Thirty-One: Between Storms.

The curtain prepares to rise on the next act, with a fresh tempest of fire and death waiting in the wings.

Author's Notes: While I did say at the start of the chapter that the overall content and feel of the story wouldn't be changing much despite the fic getting bumped up to the M rating, I will freely admit to taking advantage of it in the pursuit of fleshing out and making a certain scene that I've long been waiting to write a reality. For the more cultured fans among you, you probably realized that the scene where Heero snipes Unato was homage to Balalaika's revenge on Hansel and Gretel in the exquisite (and exquisitely violent!) manga and anime series Black Lagoon by Rei Hiroe (albeit Heero used considerably greater firepower than Balalaika's sniper did). It's finally off hiatus, baby! Just bought volume twelve a few months back and I'm happy as a clam. In my humble opinion, Balalaika's ruthless retribution against the Romanian murder twins for killing her men is the finest revenge sequence in all of anime and manga, hands down. As they say, vengeance truly is a dish best served cold. The weapon Heero used, the M82A-O, is basically an Orb Union licensed copy of the famous Barrett M82 ant-material rifle. Hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it! Besides, there is no kill like overkill.

As the preview indicates, things are going to quiet down a bit in the next chapter. Don't worry, the explosions and violence will return in full force soon enough.

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