Across the ship, the entire crew seemed to be in unusually high spirits. Well, everyone except the four men—Bart, Duelo, Hibiki, and, of course, Mobius.
The four of them were inside the brig, with Mobius lying on his cot in his cell, facing the wall with his eyes closed. He had the side of his head resting on his open left hand, his right hand tucked under his chest, and an air of complete indifference hanging around him.
The other three were engaged in a futile attempt to understand what had gotten the women so excited.
"As far as I can tell, it looks like some kind of festival," Duelo offered, his tone as clinical as always.
"Festival?" Bart and Hibiki echoed, their confusion in perfect harmony.
Duelo nodded, "From what I've overheard, it's something they call Christmas—a very important holiday on Mejere."
"Christmas, huh?" Bart scratched his head. "Any idea what it's all about?"
Duelo shrugged, "I'm afraid not." His eyes drifted over to Mobius' cell, and Hibiki, always the impulsive one, got up and walked over to the ace pilot.
"Hey, Mobius!" Hibiki called out loudly, as if volume would somehow make the situation clearer. "Any idea what this Christmas thing is?"
Mobius didn't budge. He just laid there, motionless except for the slow, deliberate rise and fall of his chest.
"Hey, are you awake?" Hibiki half-yelled, his impatience growing.
Without opening his eyes, Mobius mumbled, "I'm sleeping," in a tone that was about as convincing as a child faking a sick day.
"So what's this festival thing all about?" Hibiki pressed on, undeterred. "You did say you came from a world where women and men lived together, right? So do you have any ideas?"
Mobius sighed, his patience quickly fading. "Mother of God, you're not listening, are you?" he muttered, loud enough for Hibiki to hear, but with all the enthusiasm of a man who had long since given up on common sense.
Ignoring Mobius' sarcasm entirely, Hibiki continued to badger him with questions about the holiday. Finally, with a burst of annoyance, Mobius snapped into a sitting position, fixing Hibiki with a glare that could melt steel.
"Okay, look, here's the deal," Mobius said, his tone dripping with irritation. "I'm going to go somewhere and lay down for the nap I deserve after spending an entire week training you and those three women who, quite frankly, I'm surprised are even considered pilots. So I'm going to give you as friendly a warning as I'm emotionally capable of expressing—follow me or approach me before my nap is over, and I will be forced to kill you."
He punctuated his threat with a quick nod before getting up and leaving the brig, the door sliding shut behind him with a finality that left no room for argument.
Hibiki growled after Mobius left, "He's such a jerk. I'm getting really tired of his attitude."
"Try to look at it from his point of view, Hibiki," Duelo suggested, his tone calm and measured.
Hibiki turned, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"
Duelo continued, "So far, he's the only one who can defeat the enemies he calls Yellows. Meia may have succeeded in shooting one down, but the captain has given him a difficult task to accomplish. Training you, Meia, and three others to also defeat the Yellows is no easy mission. For him to do that, he has to put aside his personal feelings about the rest of the crew—including you—to make sure he trains you well enough. It may not seem like it, but he cares about you as an ally. He's protecting you in his own way by making sure you're ready to fight the enemy that only he's been able to deal with so far."
Hibiki grunted, looking away as he processed Duelo's words. "He's definitely got a strange way of showing that."
Meanwhile, Mobius had made his way to the ship's garden section, his escape route taking him through what could only be described as a holiday explosion. The crew had outdone themselves, turning the garden and the bridge above it into a scene straight out of a Christmas catalog.
Mobius hid it well, but the sight of everyone enjoying themselves actually made him feel something that almost resembled warmth. After everything they'd been through, they really did deserve a holiday. Hopefully, it would stay that way—without any unwelcome interruptions.
"Maybe the hangar will be empty," he muttered, turning around to leave the garden sector. But his hopes were dashed when he came face-to-face with a smiling Ezra.
The bridge bunny held up two large decorations—a bell and a star. "What do you think, Mobius?" she asked, her voice bright and cheerful. "Which one do you think I should put up?"
Mobius stared at the bell, his face deadpan. "Does the bell ring?" he asked, already knowing the answer but dreading it all the same.
"Of course it does!" Ezra replied, her smile widening.
Mobius didn't hesitate. "Then go with the star." He gave her a curt nod, a small, weary smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he continued past her, his sanity barely intact.
After escaping the garden sector, Mobius made his way to the hangar, hoping to find some peace and quiet. Along the way, he ran into Meia.
"You seem tired," the blue-haired pilot observed, noting the weariness in his eyes.
"Very," Mobius moaned, his voice dripping with exhaustion. "Apparently, I can't sleep in my cell because Hibiki keeps asking me questions about Christmas. Bart keeps asking me things in general about what it was like back on my world. Thankfully, Duelo can tell when I don't feel like talking and leaves me alone… I'm starting to regret agreeing to this whole strike team idea."
"You're not planning on backing out, are you?" Meia asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mobius shook his head, "No. Now that you've managed to destroy a Yellow, some of the other pilots are getting ahead of themselves. I overheard Leona and a few others talking. Leona thinks she can do it too, and if she tries, she'll get shot down. I'm not going to let that happen."
Meia gave him a cocky smile, "Leona can't stand the sight of you. She hates being on the same ship as you, and you're going to keep training her?"
"Captain's orders," Mobius replied, his tone flat. "Personally, if I'd been given the power of selection, I would've gone with someone less short-tempered."
The two of them arrived at the hangar and found a quiet corner surrounded by crates, almost completely hidden in the shadows. "This'll do nicely," Mobius muttered as he sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, finally finding a moment of peace in the midst of the chaos.
"What are you doing?" Meia asked, her curiosity piqued as she watched Mobius settle into the corner.
"Taking a nap," Mobius replied, his tone heavy with exhaustion. "This past week hasn't exactly been easy on me. You, Laura, and Yukiko can follow orders to the letter, but Hibiki and Leona are really testing my patience. And since I can't sleep in my cell without being interrogated about the joys of Christmas, and there's currently no one in the hangar, I'm going to sleep here for a few hours."
He nodded his head to his left, eyes already closing. "Sit," he instructed, the word carrying more weight than it should have.
Meia quietly sat on the floor next to Mobius, her heart inexplicably beating faster the closer she got to him. She still didn't understand why she tensed up every time they were alone. "It only happens when we're alone," she thought, trying to make sense of it. "Every time it's just the two of us, I tense up, and my heart beats faster… why is that?"
"Be honest with me, Meia," Mobius said quietly, pulling her out of her thoughts. "How would you rate your skills as a pilot? Overall—not compared to the rest of the crew, just you."
Meia took a moment to consider the question. "I want to say I'm strong enough to protect myself, but… I've seen you outdo me more times than I'd like to think about… I wouldn't rate myself very high."
Mobius scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "As I thought." He could feel her curious gaze on him, so he continued, "You're too hard on yourself. I've noticed that while I'm training you and the others, you push yourself further and further, but at the last second, your performance stalls out. Why is that?"
Meia lowered her head and looked away, even though Mobius' eyes were still closed. "I…" she sighed, feeling the weight of her own expectations. "I don't know. I start to think that I can defeat them too, but then I remember how easily they shot me down that day, and I freeze. Then I remember what you told me after I woke up… When I think about what's happened so far, I realize I'm not as strong as I want to be, but it feels like I can't get any stronger… I can fight, but I can't protect everyone the way I am now."
Mobius' smirk faded as he shifted slightly, rubbing his back against the wall to find a more comfortable position. "You need to stop thinking like that. You're a great pilot, Meia, and I'm not saying that to butter you up or because you're afraid of being shot down again… you're trying to prove something."
Meia leaned back against the wall, a hint of frustration in her voice. "So what do you think I'm trying to prove?"
"That's something you have to ask yourself," Mobius replied, his tone softer. "Only you can answer that one."
Meia leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to process his words. "I'm trying to prove something? To myself or to someone else… or am I trying to prove it to you?"
Time passed, and Meia slowly opened her eyes, realizing she had dozed off. "I must've fallen asleep," she muttered, still groggy. But as she moved, she realized what she had been leaning against.
Her heart skipped a beat and her breath froze in her throat when she noticed she had been resting against Mobius' shoulder. Gasping, she quickly pulled away, her face flushing with embarrassment as her heart raced even faster.
"Why am I panicking?" she whispered to herself, trying to calm down. "I've spent plenty of time around him, so why… why do I feel so nervous now?"
Mobius stirred beside her, moaning softly as he sat up and blinked his eyes open. With a quick stretch, he got to his feet, sighing contentedly. "Good nap," he said to himself, his voice still laced with the remnants of sleep. He took a few steps forward before turning back to face Meia.
"You're still here," he noted, his tone casual. "How long was I out?"
Meia quickly averted her eyes, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. "I'm not sure… I… I fell asleep too."
Mobius chuckled, his usual smirk returning. "Heh, looks like that whole hardcore leader thing is just an act after all."
Meia narrowed her eyes into a glare, but Mobius merely scoffed with another smug look.
"A little rest is good every now and then," he told her, his tone almost teasing. "You don't have to keep working all the time."
Mobius leaned forward offering her his hand, helping her to her feet. Once Meia was standing, Mobius turned around and began walking away, but not before throwing one last remark over his shoulder. "Oh, and don't think I didn't catch you snuggling against me."
Meia gasped, her face turning a deeper shade of red. She watched in stunned silence as Mobius left the hangar, his smug demeanor lingering in the air long after he was gone. Shaking her head fiercely, she lightly slapped herself before diving back into work, desperate to distract herself from what had just happened.
As Mobius walked through the halls of the ship, he heard a loud crash from down the corridor, followed by Hibiki's unmistakable yelling. Turning a corner, Mobius spotted Duelo and Bart standing outside a small storage closet. "What's going on now?" he asked, his tone almost resigned.
"Dita thought there would be some old Christmas decorations in one of the storage rooms," Duelo explained, his expression as neutral as ever.
Bart chimed in, "Then Hibiki just crashed through one of the walls. We were going to check it out right as you got here."
Mobius hummed thoughtfully before slipping past the two men and stepping into the hidden room Hibiki had uncovered.
"Interesting," he muttered, running his finger along the side of what looked like a grandfather clock. "These have been here a long time," he continued, rubbing the dust from his finger with mild curiosity.
Duelo did the same with a large picture, his analytical mind already at work. "It's possible that these have been here since the colonization era."
"Wasn't that almost a hundred years ago, Doc?" Bart asked, clearly impressed.
"According to the captain," Mobius began, his tone matter-of-fact, "it was 103 years ago… give or take a few weeks."
"Hey, look at this!" Dita suddenly exclaimed, holding up an old plastic object that read "X-mas with family."
"What do you suppose it is?" the redhead asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Well, it says X-mas with family," Mobius replied, his tone a mix of casual explanation and faint amusement. "It's probably a video a family recorded during Christmas. Back in the old days, people often shortened Christmas to X-mas, sometimes just to save time during conversation or to fit holiday wishes on a card."
He was about to leave the room, his mind already drifting back to the quiet solitude of his cell, when something in the corner caught his eye. There, half-hidden beneath a layer of dust and forgotten memories, was a small box marked with the emblem of Yellow Squadron.
Mobius froze, his breath slowing in his throat. He carefully stepped over to the dark corner, his movements almost reverent as he gently moved a larger box aside to reveal the smaller one beneath.
"Hey, did you find something else?" Bart called out, but Mobius barely registered the question.
His mind was already racing, piecing together the significance of the emblem before him. Without a word, he grabbed the box and lifted it into his arms, the weight denoted to only few items inside.
"See you guys at midnight," he muttered, his voice distant as he left the storage room. He didn't wait for a response; his focus was singular, pulling him back to the solitude of his cell.
Sitting on his cot, Mobius placed the box on his lap and, with steady hands, used his knife to cut the tape holding it closed. The blade felt heavier than usual, as if it knew the weight of what was about to be uncovered. Without hesitation, he opened the box, bracing himself for what he might find.
The first item he pulled out was a fur-covered photo album, the Yellow Squadron emblem stitched on the cover. As he opened the album, his eyes scanned the first few pages of pictures, and despite the years, most of them were still in excellent condition. Whoever had owned this album clearly took great care of it.
As he flipped through the pages, Mobius found himself staring at images of Yellow Squadron pilots, engineers, and mechanics—faces he had never seen, but knew as enemies. Yet, the more he looked, the more he noticed that the same three people appeared repeatedly in the photos.
A man with pale blonde hair and fair skin, a dark-skinned woman with dark brown hair styled in a royal bun, and between them, a small boy, probably around 10 or 12 years old, with matching blonde hair. The three of them seemed happy together, smiling and laughing in each shot.
A smile tried to tug at Mobius' lips as he looked at the photos. They reminded him of his own family, before everything had been torn apart by war. But as his eyes moved over the man's jacket, something caught his attention—The number 13.
"13?" Mobius muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yellow 13… So that's what he looked like."
He continued to skim through the photo album, each image pulling him deeper into memories he had long since buried. Almost a hundred photos of Yellow 13 and the boy, some with the woman, until the last picture revealed her identity.
There, on her jacket, was the number 4.
Mobius' mind returned to the day he destroyed Stonehenge. She was the Yellow he had shot down that day. The memory hit him like a cold wind, the image of her fighter exploding replaying in his mind, as vivid as the day it happened.
He closed the album and set it aside, but something written on the back caught his eye. Tilting the book to the side so the light from the hall would reveal the words better, he silently read the inscription, "From Yellow 4. Memories are one of the dearest things anyone can have; use this to keep them close."
Mobius stared at the words, his chest tightening as they echoed in his mind. "You can come in anytime," he said, his voice rougher than before as he set the photo album aside and looked back into the box.
Meia stepped around the corner of his cell, offering a small smile as she approached. "I just got here," she said, noticing the change in his demeanor. Her eyes fell on the box he was sifting through. "What is that?"
"A box," Mobius replied immediately, his tone slipping back into sarcasm as a defense mechanism.
Meia rolled her eyes, mentally noting his attempt to deflect. She walked over and sat next to him, her curiosity piqued. "So, what is it really?"
Mobius hesitated for a moment before answering, "I found it in a hidden storage room Hibiki and Dita discovered." He tilted the box to show her the Yellow Squadron emblem. "It has Yellow Squadron's emblem on it." He handed her the photo album while he continued to look through the box, his movements more deliberate now.
Inside, he found several newspaper articles about Yellow Squadron and a heroic pilot called the "Ribbon." He sifted through the clippings, each one a reminder of the life he had left behind. Beneath the articles, he uncovered a small harmonica, a guitar pick, and several sealed letters. All of them were addressed to the same person… "The ribbon fighter of ISAF."
"The ribbon fighter?" Mobius muttered, just loud enough for Meia to hear.
His heart started beating faster as he opened the first letter, hastily reading the first few lines.
"I was just a child when the stars fell from the sky. But I remember how they built a cannon to destroy them. And in turn, how that cannon brought war upon us."
Mobius' breath caught as the memories rushed back, images of burning cities and screaming sirens filling his mind. He could see it all again—the destruction, the chaos, the fear. It was like reliving a nightmare, one that had never truly ended.
He continued reading through the letters at a fast pace, desperate to reach the end. Once he finished the first one, he set it aside, and Meia picked it up, her eyes scanning the words as she tried to piece together the story.
But before she could even finish the first letter, Mobius had set down the second, his eyes moving over and absorbing every word before he set the letter down and moved to the next.
"These are all addressed to me," he said, as the realization hit him. "Every one of them. This is dated just after the siege of Farbanti."
"He never returned after that day… I watched from the ground as a single fighter took on five members of Yellow Squadron, all of them seasoned pilots, yet one by one they were shot down. Until there was only one Yellow left along with the ribbon that fought them. I knew that the last remaining Yellow was 13; I just knew it had to be. I watched as the two of them danced through the sky, as they chased one another in a fatal dance to determine the winner. But in the end, 13 lost. His fighter burst into flames after a final missile impacted the rear of his aircraft."
"The barkeep's daughter and I watched from the ground as 13's fighter screamed toward the earth and vanished, followed by a loud explosion that signaled the crash. We both looked back up to the sky to see the ribbon fighter flying away, and surprisingly, Yellow 4's handkerchief fluttered down from the sky and right into my hands… I took a single whiff of the everlasting fragrance on the handkerchief before we buried it where we stood that day."
Mobius steeled his nerves against the memoires flooding his mind. That final battle over the Erusean capital, the day he shot down and defeated Yellow Squadron and their invincible leader. The words on the page blurred as memories of the past collided with the present. He had been the "ribbon fighter," the pilot who had taken down Yellow 13, but standing here now, holding these letters, somehow made the memories seem more vivid.
He closed his eyes, trying to push the emotions back down, to lock them away like he had so many times before. But the memories were too strong, too vivid to ignore.
Meia read one of the letters, "I never got to find out what kind of person that ribbon really was, and neither did 13, but I'm sure he was happy the way it ended. He always said it, ever since his first run-in with the ribbon above the Comona Islands when his craft got damaged."
Mobius read the rest in silence, each word deepening the echo of memories he'd long tried to bury. The past, with all its unresolved tension, seemed to weigh heavier with each sentence. Setting down the last letter, he felt an overwhelming need to escape, if only for a while.
"I think I'm going to go out for a bit… I need to clear my head," he said, standing abruptly. There was a slight tremor in his voice, barely noticeable unless you were really listening.
Meia watched him quietly leave the room, noting how dazed and disconnected he seemed. It wasn't like Mobius to be thrown off balance, and that realization left her unsettled.
Quickly setting the letters and the photo album back in the box, she left the brig and hurried to the hangar, arriving just as Mobius was climbing into his fighter.
"You know," she said, trying to sound casual, "if you need to go out for a bit, you could help me scan the area to make sure there are no enemies around."
Mobius looked over at her, his face devoid of his usual stoicism. "Sounds good," he replied quietly.
Without another word, the two pilots took off, the familiar hum of the engines a temporary balm to the thoughts racing through Mobius' mind. As they flew off into space, heading toward the comet the Nirvana was tracking, Mobius found a sliver of focus in the task ahead.
Once alongside the comet, Meia broke the silence. "My radar isn't picking anything up, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was something inside the comet's tail waiting for us."
"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised either," Mobius agreed, his voice more alert. "Is it safe to try and fly into that thing?"
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Meia replied with a hint of bravado, turning her dread into the tail of the comet and plunging into the icy storm inside.
"Reckless as Hibiki," Mobius muttered to himself, shaking his head before following her.
Inside the comet's tail, the world was a chaotic swirl of ice and mist. Meia was forced to react quickly, performing a half roll to avoid colliding with a chunk of ice, then dropping into a reversed turn to dodge another.
"Nice job there, ace," Mobius quipped sarcastically, effortlessly weaving through the ice masses with the precision of a seasoned pilot.
Meia scoffed, though she was secretly grateful for his calm demeanor. "Must be nice to mock everyone all the time."
"It is pretty nice," Mobius admitted, his tone lightening, their patrol flight a relaxing distraction, "Don't panic too much; you'll end up clipping one of them. Focus on the distance between them and your dread."
She rolled her eyes at his unsolicited advice. "Now you're telling me the basics of flying. I think you've let this training thing go to your head."
But before she could finish, something gleamed behind the cover of the ice mist. Meia jerked her dread to the side just as a massive claw shot out at her, barely missing her craft.
Mobius, ever calm, smoothly turned his F-22 away from the claw as it arced toward him. "Looks like it was a good idea to come out here after all," he remarked, though his tone had lost its earlier playfulness.
The hidden enemy extended two of its limbs and activated a webbing that quickly ensnared Meia's dread, trapping her in place.
"Dammit," Meia growled, her frustration palpable as her fighter struggled against the immobilizing web.
"How many times do I have to save you?" Mobius asked, his voice tinged with both a teasing sarcasm and determination as he flew around the enemy, trying to keep its attention on him. He fired a couple of missiles at the webbing, but as soon as they neared, the web began radiating electricity, repelling the missiles and sending them spiraling away into the surrounding ice.
"Well, that's a thing to consider," Mobius noted, his tone far too casual for the situation as he turned to evade the enemy's claw again.
Meia's frustration grew. "Less talk and more getting me out of here," she demanded, her voice tense.
The F-22 banked around and began firing its guns at the enemy, shaking it just enough to provide a slight opening. But before Mobius could press the advantage, the enemy attacked again, shooting its claws at him with relentless precision. Yet, to no avail—the veteran ace easily rolled and weaved around them, making it look effortless.
"Can you stop playing around?" Meia asked, her dread starting to show signs of system damage from the enemy's web.
"Starting to feel a bit of heat, huh?" Mobius joked, though his tone carried an edge of concern. "Alright, standby."
He turned around once more, firing a single missile directly at the enemy. But before it could land, the Vanguard appeared, its sword slashing at the enemy with brute force.
Seeing each other, Meia and Hibiki both yelled, "What are you doing here?"
Hibiki, undeterred, landed on the webbing and began stabbing the Vanguard's sword into it, trying to free Meia. But no matter how hard he tried, the webbing wouldn't budge.
"Hmm, brute force again," Mobius taunted, his voice laced with that same infuriating calm. "You know that solution doesn't solve every problem."
"Shut up!" Hibiki barked, pointing the Vanguard's sword at the raptor. "I don't need any advice on how to defeat an enemy."
Determined to prove himself, Hibiki turned around and threw the sword at the enemy, impaling its eye with a forceful strike.
Mobius watched, half-amused for once as the Vanguard closed its fist and then brought it down on the webbing, shattering it and finally freeing Meia.
"Finally," Meia breathed, relieved as the last strands of the web fell away, just as Hibiki caught a chunk of ice from the comet's tail.
"What are you going to do with that?" Meia asked, her voice skeptical.
"Who cares, heads up!" Mobius ordered, his tone sharpening as the enemy rose up again, advancing toward Meia's dread.
But a quick strike from a pair of Mobius' missiles distracted the enemy long enough for Meia to maneuver out of harm's way.
"There's no need to hang around here anymore," Hibiki said, the Vanguard moving with renewed purpose as it combined with Meia's dread to form Vandread Meia. "We should hurry back, but we can't leave that thing alive."
"I agree with you," Meia said, her voice resolute as the Vandread turned to engage the enemy.
"Target locked," Mobius announced, flipping off the safety to his special weapons. "Firing!"
Mobius fired a wave of four XMAA missiles, followed by two AIM-120 AMRAAM missiles, before swiftly turning away just as Vandread Meia reached maximum speed. The Vandread pierced through the enemy, stunning it long enough for the six missiles to strike its main body. The resulting explosion was massive, tearing the enemy apart and disrupting the comet's tail in the process. The explosion triggered a breathtaking display—a cascade of glittering snowflakes scattered across the vastness of space as the Nirvana passed by.
"Let's go home, shall we?" Mobius said, his voice calmer now as the battle concluded. Both Meia and Hibiki agreed, their ships soaring through the ethereal snowfall, making their way back to the Nirvana just as the ship's clocks struck midnight, marking the start of the Christmas celebration.
On the bridge, the entire crew paused, their eyes drawn to the shimmering snowflakes gently drifting outside the ship. Each tiny crystal reflected the distant starlight, creating a stunning, almost magical scene. The cold, dark expanse of space was suddenly alive with the twinkling beauty of the unexpected snowfall, and for a moment, the war seemed far away.
Inside Vandread Meia, Meia watched the snowfall through her cockpit, captivated by its unexpected beauty. "This is where we go our separate ways," she said quietly, before the Vandread separated into its two component ships.
As the Vanguard landed on the massive window above the bridge, Hibiki waved a chunk of ice around, knowing Dita was watching and smiling at her reaction.
Meanwhile, back in the hangar, Mobius and Meia climbed out of their fighters, the shimmering snow still visible through the viewports of the hangar.
Dita burst into the hangar just as Hibiki tumbled out of the Vanguard's cockpit. "Here you go, Mr. Alien!" she beamed, holding out a small gift. "I wanted you to open it exactly at midnight, but that's okay."
Hibiki, still a bit dazed, handed her a small piece of ice he had saved. "Here," he muttered almost sheepishly, "most of it melted away already."
Dita took the piece of ice, and as it melted in her hand, a small seed was revealed. It immediately bloomed into a glistening flower, its petals shimmering like the snow outside.
"It's so pretty!" Dita gasped, holding the flower to her chest. "I love it, thank you," she said, her voice full of warmth.
Mobius watched the exchange from a distance, muttering to himself, "Hibiki just did something nice for Dita. Color me shocked."
"Looks like he's finally maturing a bit, huh?" Meia observed, standing beside him.
Mobius nodded slightly, "Seems that way, doesn't matter, I need coffee. Meet me in the garden once everyone else clears out."
Meia watched him leave, her mind swirling with curiosity and anticipation. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of his request, but there was something in his tone that made her heart beat a little faster.
As she returned her gaze to the hangar, she saw Dita rushing back to Hibiki with a blanket and pillow, gently covering him as he had fallen asleep. Dita smiled, leaving the hangar to rejoin the party, while Meia left to observe the celebration from the bridge.
Around 3 a.m., the Christmas festivities began to wind down. The majority of the crew had retired to their rooms, leaving only the captain, BC, Meia, and of course, Mobius, who had remained in his favorite corner of the cafeteria with a single cup of coffee in front of him.
Hibiki, having finally woken up, slowly dragged his feet back to the brig, lamenting, "Life's not fair. How could I sleep through the entire feast?" As he noticed a box Dita had left for him, he looked around cautiously before opening it.
Inside, the box shot out a small plush UFO doll that hovered in the air, spinning in circles while a recording of Dita's voice repeatedly said, "Merry Christmas." The doll then made a popping sound before transforming into a plush doll of Hibiki riding a sleigh pulled by two reindeers.
Hibiki chuckled softly, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You're silly," he whispered to himself, clutching the doll close.
On the bridge, BC stood gazing out at the snow-like particles still drifting past the ship. The once chaotic comet's tail had been transformed into a peaceful, shimmering blanket of white, covering the vast expanse of space.
"It looks like we've lived to see another year," the captain said, her voice soft with reflection as she approached BC. "We've had our ups and downs, but it's all for the best. Back on Mejere, we never would have seen something like this."
Magno looked up at the remnants of the comet, her eyes softening. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Almost like a Christmas tree in the middle of space."
Their conversation was interrupted by a voice from below.
BC and the captain leaned over the railing to see Mobius standing just a few feet away from Meia. The ISAF pilot slowly approached her, holding a small, square box—the kind usually meant for a piece of jewelry.
"I originally got it for my mother," he began, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. "Her birthday was the week after Claire's, but… Argh, just open it already," he grumbled, trying to mask his discomfort.
Meia carefully opened the box, her eyes widening as she saw a beautiful silver lace necklace with a teardrop-shaped crystal.
"It's been treated with a some kind of chemical that's supposed to keep it from ever losing its shine," Mobius explained, his tone gruff. "It'll stay like that, without needing to be cleaned."
"Thank you," Meia whispered, her face flushing with warmth as she met his eyes.
Mobius, equally flustered, grumbled, "Argh, just take the damn thing already. Get some sleep, 'cause training begins at 10… I hate Christmas," he muttered, walking away quickly before she could respond.
Meia watched him go, a soft smile playing on her lips. She could tell, despite his gruff exterior, that the gesture meant more than he let on. After Mobius left, she fastened the necklace around her neck, feeling its cool weight against her skin.
Completely unaware that the captain and BC were watching from above, Meia left the garden, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
After Meia had left, Magno smiled at BC. "You see now, BC, even those two have come a long way since we started. Thanks to Mobius, Meia has come out of her shell, and it looks like Mobius is finally beginning to feel at home with the rest of us. This is truly a special time of the year…when people become closer and more open with one another."
BC didn't respond immediately; she simply returned the smile, her eyes reflecting a quiet acknowledgment of the captain's words. The changes in both Mobius and Meia were undeniable, and perhaps, in some small way, they had all started to grow into something more than just a crew thrown together by circumstance.
As the night deepened, Meia returned to her room, her thoughts still swirling from the evening's events. The necklace Mobius had given her rested gently on her nightstand, catching the dim light that filtered through the window. Changing into a robe, she finally allowed herself to relax, sinking into the softness of her bed. She closed her eyes, the weight of the day's emotions pulling her quickly into sleep.
Meanwhile, in the dimly lit conference room, Mobius sat alone, his eyes fixed on the projection of the current dread formations that Meia had planned. His hand moved almost instinctively, adjusting the placement of his strike team within the formation.
"If I set us here," he muttered, moving his gaze to the side of the formation, "the dreads can cover the left side, and my team will be able to move freely from the right and flank the enemy. We could even perform a direct strike to force a break in their formation…"
Lifting a mug of coffee to his lips, he took a long sip, letting the bitter warmth ground him. "Meia is progressing better than the others," he mused aloud, "but she's letting her feelings toward me get in the way…"
He paused, the thought lingering. "Her and Hibiki both look up to me. They see me as a mentor, maybe even a challenge… They want to become as good as me, maybe even surpass me. But in the end, it's going to push them too far. Can I really tell them not to pursue a goal like that? Can I really tell them to stop trying to push their limits to become better?"
He took another sip of his coffee, staring at the projection screen without really seeing it. His mind was elsewhere, entangled in thoughts of the young pilots under his guidance.
"Hibiki's still arrogant and reckless, but he's had some good ideas so far. Still, he's not ready to face the Yellows on his own. Leona is showing promise, but her hotheaded attitude is going to get her shot down… Yukiko and Laura have no trouble following orders, and they have enough confidence to fly, but they're still too afraid to engage the Yellows alone."
He sighed, his thoughts returning to Meia. "Meia, however… She's not just trying to prove she can be as good as me, but she's letting how she feels about me get in the way…"
"And I think I like her to" he thought, taking a slow sip from his coffee as he turned the projector off and sat in the dimly lit room alone.
