Mobile Suit Gundam SEED TWILIGHT

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Phase 05 - Stories of Newtypes

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Meyrin Hawke could never shake the nagging voice in the back of her head that this chair was not hers; that this chair, this uniform, this position were all meant for Talia Gladys, and even with the Minerva's first captain three years dead, the feeling remained that she was trespassing. Meyrin Hawke, after all, was not Talia Gladys, and the confidence and professionalism that Talia Gladys had radiated from this chair was not something that Meyrin could have ever reproduced.

However, Talia Gladys was dead, and instead it was Meyrin Hawke sitting in the captain's chair of the Minerva. Reality was a bitch like that.

She surveyed the bridge as her vessel— in the loosest sense of the pronoun, of course— plunged into battle. Three years had stripped her crew of their ZAFT uniforms, replacing them instead with black pants, camouflage-patterned shirts, black ZAFT ground-issue boots, and maroon berets. They had cut their ties to their homeland, as it were...because their homeland no longer existed, and now they were fighting to create a new one.

And that, it seemed, was why she was sitting in the captain's chair. A fresh start for everything, even her.

"Give our mobile suits enough cover fire to recover our allies," she instructed, her commands still sounding hollow to her ears. "We'll retreat as soon as we've got them onboard."

"Retreat?" someone exclaimed. Meyrin fought down the urge to rescind her own order as the XO's console chair turned, and the blue eyes and short blonde hair and ZAFT Black Shirt's peaked cap of her executive officer, Abbey Windsor, swiveled to face her. "Captain, what about that ship?"

"We'll worry about it later," Meyrin answered. "Right now we have to recover that data and our allies."

Abbey returned to her console in obvious annoyance, and Meyrin silently wished she commanded the respect that Talia had. She wore the white cap and the blue overcoat of a captain, but underneath she wondered if she was just a little girl in a costume.

"Justice reports that it's got the Black Wolf leader secured," Roxy added. "So, uh, mission accomplished?"

"Not yet," Meyrin answered. "I'm sure that ship will be paying us a visit sometime soon. Chen, fire some missiles at them— we need to keep them back."

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"Captain, the Minerva!" Vera exclaimed, pointing at the great winged warship as it stormed into the fight. "Where was it hiding?!"

"Missiles, captain!" the sensor officer exclaimed.

Danilov narrowed his eyes. "Igelstellungs, intercept!" he ordered. A pall of smoke rose up around the Charlemagne as the Minerva's missiles were cut down by a flurry of CIWS bullets. "All mobile suits, pull back! We will retreat!"

Vera blinked in disbelief as she looked back at Danilov, "Retreat...? But sir...why?"

"Don't question me," Danilov shot back. "The Minerva's position is too advantageous right now." He glanced down at the burning forest. "Besides, that smoke is going to get up here and cut our visibility down to nothing. Hurry it up! We'll pursue them to a better locale and make the kill."

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"Retreat?!" Shams yelled as the word came through to the mobile suits. "But we've got those motherfuckers right in our sights!"

"Are we cowards...?" Mudie murmured.

Sven glanced back at the two Gundams as they backed away from the Destiny Gundam. Up ahead, wings shimmering, the Destiny was roaring off towards the Minerva, a trail of afterimages glimmering behind it.

"The Mindanao was shot down," Sven pointed out. "So we will be needing a new home base from which to operate." He glanced over at the Charlemagne. "We will board the Charlemagne and join Captain Danilov's mobile suit complement."

"If you say so," Shams grumbled. "Bet he won't be happy to see us."

The three Gundams cast one last glare at the departing Destiny and took off towards the Charlemagne.

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"Well, the mighty Orb Marauder returns," Roxy chuckled as the Destiny cruised in towards the Minerva. "You always need us to bail you out, Shinn."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Shinn chuckled. He glanced back at the jump seat.

There he found Emily, staring in disbelief at the hulking winged form of the Minerva. "That's...that's really..."

"Yep. 'Arrow of God,' 'Blessed Minerva,' all that," Shinn said. "We go by lots of names." He gestured to the woman on the screen. "I believe you've already met, but introductions might as well be made again. This is the Minerva's MS deck operator and communications officer, Roxy Bannon."

"Yo," Roxy added, with something resembling an amiable grin.

Emily blinked at it all as the Destiny approached the Minerva. "Um...hi." She ran a nervous glance over the Minerva's dark and battle-worn armor as the port-side catapult opened up to receive the Destiny. This was the ship that plagued the nightmares of Earth Alliance soldiers across the Earth Sphere. This was the ship that carried the five mobile suits that sent even the mighty Lord Djibril into fits of impotent rage. This was the ship that would change the world.

And here she was, being carried into it.

Another screen opened up, and a blue-haired man appeared. "Shinn, I sense Rau," he said, his voice clipped and somber, his eyes betraying emotions no human being should ever have to face. "What the hell is going on?"

Shinn's thin smile disappeared. "I'll explain once we land," he said. "In the meantime, try not to shoot him on sight."

Emily realized in shock that the blue-haired man was Athrun Zala just as he sniffed in disgust, and the screen went blank. She looked back up at the Destiny's main monitors, shuddering as the Destiny landed and stomped into the hangar.

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The bridge door slid open, and Sven Cal Bayan, still clad in his black standard-issue Phantom Pain flight suit, with his helmet under his left arm, entered with a sharp salute. Danilov greeted him with a salute of his own, as Mudie and Shams filed in behind Sven.

"Good to see you made it back intact," Danilov said, shaking Sven's hand. "Welcome aboard the battleship Charlemagne. The quartermaster will take care of getting you three settled in. In the meantime, we have a war to fight."

"That is why we are here," Sven intoned.

"This ship's purpose is to hunt down and destroy the Minerva," Danilov explained. "One chance has been taken from us by circumstance already, but I intend to start manufacturing more chances. We will pursue the Minerva into range of friendly units and attack at a time of our choosing. They can't shake us now."

Sven did not miss a beat. "Then we will be here to strike the final blow."

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"Four kills...four kills...you sure it was four kills and not five?" Grey asked, holding aloft a can of spray paint and stencil as he stood on the gantry by his Windam. Even as the mechanics were repairing the right arm, Merau noted, nothing could curb his enthusiasm.

Except, of course, reality.

"No, it was four," she said.

"But there was that CGUE— " Grey began.

"That was Wilkinson," Merau interrupted, nodding towards the Doppelhorn Windam at the other end of the hangar. "He incapacitated it. You just hit it again to blow off the Vulcan shield."

"Bah," Grey muttered, donning his face mask and setting to work. "But still, four kills on my first sortie ain't bad! I'll make ace in no time!"

"Uh huh," Merau answered, leaning back against the railing. "I wonder if any of the Resistance troops made it out..."

"Who cares? We'll kill 'em all."

Merau glanced at the three new machines, the Gundams standing in a corner of the hangar, surrounded by inquisitive mechanics. "Well," she went on, "we'll never know...'cuz we're after the Minerva."

Grey finished applying his last kill mark and threw off his mask. "They caught us by surprise last time," he said, "but next time they'll see how powerful we are."

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Emily had expected her arrival on the Minerva to somehow involve guns. What she had not been expecting, however, was for them all to be pointed at Rau.

Indeed, no less than a dozen solders in steel helmets and camouflage fatigues and flak jackets had assault rifles leveled off at the black-coated Rau Le Creuset, who seemed more amused than a man being held at gunpoint ought to be. The soldiers appeared fairly confused, but the man at their head, handgun in hand, eyes alight with a glare that could have killed lesser men, most certainly did not.

The man called Athrun Zala could only glower hatefully at Rau Le Creuset over the barrel of his gun. The woman that Emily recognized as Meyrin, the ship's captain, was nearby, looking about as confused as the soldiers. Emily was pondering like likelihood of getting shot if she said something when Athrun Zala finally spoke.

"No matter how famous he was as a ZAFT soldier, captain," Athrun said, slowly and in a measured voice, "this man is not trustworthy. Please listen to me on this."

Shinn glanced at Emily, and the look in his eyes was all the reason Emily needed to stay put. He turned again. "Athrun, put the gun down. Rau can't hurt us."

"Of course," Rau chuckled. "If I wanted to hurt you I would have simply not pointed out where the Black Wolf unit was hiding."

"We need all the allies we can get," Meyrin added.

"He's done more harm to anyone than his skills and knowledge could possibly justify," Athrun spat. "Captain, please— "

Meyrin looked to Shinn, and Emily could see a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "No, we'll let him stay," she said. "Under surveillance, of course." She turned back towards Rau. "We'll let you stay, sir, so long as you earn your keep."

Rau's grin flashed feral. "I'd have it no other way," he said, as one of the soldiers led him away.

Athrun stuffed his pistol back into his jacket and stormed away. Shinn watched him go, looking somehow defeated. He glanced at Abes, standing near Meyrin with a clipboard in hand.

"If those two are joining us, what are we going to do about these two in the way of mobile suits?" he asked. He gestured towards the ruined GuAIZ and BuCUE Hound, slumped in a corner of the hangar. "Those things are no help to us right now, and we don't have the spare parts to fix them."

One of the mechanics behind Abes spoke up. "We still have the spare parts to the Savior and Legend," said the dark-skinned young man, stepping forward with arms crossed. Emily blinked in surprise as he cast a chilly glance towards Shinn. "Instead of just saying that someday we're gonna pawn 'em off, maybe we could put 'em together."

"That'll do," Abes grunted, waving at the supply of spare parts. "I'll put you in charge of putting Humpty-Savior and Humpty-Legend back together, then, Yolant."

"Aye, sir," the mechanic, Yolant, answered, casting another icy glare at Shinn and heading off.

Emily looked back at Shinn, but he turned away before she could see his face. Instead he pointed at the half-complete husk of yet another mobile suit. Emily could see even from her vantage point that it had the face of the Destiny Gundam— so she guessed they were building a second Destiny Gundam. But as for why, only the sinking feeling in her stomach could provide an answer.

"You see that thing there, Emily?" he asked.

Emily looked at it with an edge of apprehension. "Y-yes."

"Good," Shinn said. "Then come with me. We need to have a little talk."

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Meyrin Hawke returned to the bridge wondering if Rau Le Creuset was really at all trustworthy. Athrun and Shinn clearly had a bone to pick with him, but she was the captain now, and she had to decide. And he had been one of ZAFT's greatest aces during the Junius War. What, then, lay underneath?

Her answer would have to wait as the bridge doors opened. Burt Heim turned his seat towards her, standing and offering a salute. "The Charlemagne is following at a cautious distance, captain," he reported. "Electronic warfare is showing nothing."

The helmsman's chair turned next, and Malik Yardbirds saluted as well. "Course, captain?"

Abbey stood from her haunt near the starboard side of the bridge's mapping console, behind the captain's chair. "They're clearly not letting us just slip away," she began, activating the map and bringing up a display of the European continent, "but they're hanging back far enough not to provoke us."

Meyrin studied the map and struggled to think like Talia. It was no game, but she had to treat it like one— anticipating an opponent's move and making a move of her own to disrupt what her foe planned to do. The blinking symbol that represented the Minerva was heading northeast, towards the Baltic Sea— but three years in the captain's chair had taught her that nobody was going to let her just go in a straight line towards her destination.

"Well," Meyrin started, "let's not be provoked, first of all."

"Above all, we have to get back to Carpentaria," Abbey continued. "Which is about halfway around the world."

Meyrin glanced over her shoulder at Roxy, who currently had her feet up on the communication console and half a bottle of Wild Turkey in hand. "Miss Bannon, bring up a list of the Resistance units in Eurasia," she instructed.

"What, all five-ka-fucking-trillion of them?" she asked, sitting up and tapping a few keys. Meyrin suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, remembering why they had long ago given up on trying to get Roxy to act like a disciplined soldier, and instead turned her eyes to the main screen.

"There's Poljarny," Abbey suggested. "We might even get an escort."

"We've had escorts before," Meyrin pointed out. "Remember what happened to the Blenheim?"

Abbey looked down sadly as the memories resurfaced. The screams were all they needed to remember.

"If we go over Russia, we'll pass by Vorkuta," Meyrin went on. "But other than that, it's pretty open territory. If we go the whole distance at flank speed, we could get across Siberia in a week or so and turn south at the Sea of Okhotsk. From there it's a straight shot past Japan and down to Carpentaria."

Abbey studied the map for a moment. "If we can get across Siberia," she said. "Alliance Arctic Command isn't going to let us waltz on through."

"Well, our other alternative is turning south," Meyrin answered, hoping that this idea wasn't full of holes, "which would mean cutting over the Black Sea and heading down across Anatolia, into the Levant. I don't think Eastern Europe Command or Mideast Command will be too thrilled with that." She pointed out the Minerva's projected route across Russia's coldest and most inhospitable reaches. "Besides, Arctic Command isn't that bad. And I'd sooner take my chances with the polar bears on the ice cap than set foot in the Middle East."

"That place is a clusterfuck if I've ever seen one," Roxy put in, taking a healthy swig of Wild Turkey.

"Interesting word choice, Miss Bannon," Abbey said crossly. "We could always go to Amsterdam— "

"Does everybody have to bring that up?" Roxy groused.

"At any rate," Meyrin interrupted, hoping to avoid another excruciatingly detailed explanation of things she didn't want to know, "the shape of the Resistance in the Middle East is so horribly tangled up that we'd have to shoot anything that moves to get out alive. It looks like there aren't too many Phantom Pain units in Russia, and I'd rather take my chances with Arctic Command."

"I suppose so," Abbey agreed.

"Malik," Meyrin continued. "Set course for Murmansk. We'll stop there and then cut across Siberia, then turn south at Okhotsk and head down the Pacific to Carpentaria."

"Aye, captain," Malik answered, setting to work at the helm.

Abbey leaned back against one of the mapping console's chairs. "I wonder how things are going down in Carpentaria...they must be almost done planning the attack on Heaven's Base."

"And that's why we've got to get there first," Meyrin said. "Before the Alliance does."

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"Minerva's projected course plotted, sir!" the sensor officer exclaimed. "Bringing it up on the main screen."

Danilov sat back with Vera standing by his chair as a sprawling map of the world flashed onto the screen. A red, blinking cursor, marked as the Minerva, appeared over the northwestern corner of France, and from it extended a dotted line that swept across Scandinavia and Siberia.

"As I thought," Danilov said. "And they're probably heading to Carpentaria and the ZAFT Remnant. They'd have no reason to go anywhere else."

"And aside from Vorkuta and Svalbard, there isn't a major installation in their path. Just regional bases," Vera added. "And few units of the Phantom Pain."

Danilov risked a smile. "Except for us," he pointed out. "Nevertheless, if they can get into Russia and cut across Siberia like this course suggests, they'll be over relatively open ground. Arctic Command isn't going to be able to stop them."

"So we can't let them get past the Urals," Vera agreed. "We have to contain them in Europe."

Danilov sat back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Colonel Shoyou's unit was in the Urals, fighting guerrillas," he said. "But he was reassigned to Warsaw, wasn't he?"

"Yes sir. They said the Neo-Bolshevik guerrillas hiding out in the Urals had been cleared out."

"Well then, I'm sure he's itching for a fight." Danilov glanced over at the communications console. "Comm officer, get me a transmission to Lieutenant Colonel Kenta Shoyou at Warsaw Air Base. I have a proposition for him."

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The observation deck was empty, but that was not the first thing Emily noticed. Instead she took in the panoramic view she had of northern France, panning by underneath her. She looked back at Shinn, but he did not seem taken with the view.

"W-what did you need to talk about...?" Emily asked, as the familiar fear began to rise again.

Shinn studied her face for a moment. "That mobile suit in the hangar that was under construction," he said. "It's for you."

"For me?" Emily exclaimed. "Wha— you want me to pilot it?"

"In so many words," Shinn answered. "Yes, we want you to be a pilot and use that machine."

B-but I can't do that!" Emily protested, trying to fight down the panic. "You saw me in the Windam, didn't you? I can't fly something as complicated as the Destiny!"

"We'll load a Natural-use OS, if that's what you want."

"But that won't— I can't do it! I'm not a pilot, and..." She trailed off, as fear got the better of her— but she struggled to push it back down. "I'm not you!"

Shinn regarded her strangely for a moment, killing anymore protests before they could pass her lips.

"No," he agreed at last, "you're not me. But you resemble me."

"Wha— ? I— "

"Just listen," he cut her off, holding up a finger. "There is far more to you than even you realize yet. Now, just listen, and answer me honestly. During the last battle, while I was fighting the Devil's Swords, did you feel anything different? A flash of recognition, a feeling like you could see the future?"

A wave of sickening realization hit Emily like a rockslide as she thought back to the battle and remembered painfully the moment that one of the Gundams had tried to sneak up on the Destiny and shoot it from behind. She had seen it coming, and warned him—

"Y-you mean..." she began, unable to finish.

"That is the power of a special kind of human being," Shinn explained. "different from a Natural and a Coordinator. Tell me, do you remember three years ago, during the Junius War, when the leader of the PLANTs went on global TV and made an announcement?"

Emily nodded brokenly, as memories of a "Destiny Plan" popped back into her consciousness.

"Do you remember the details of it? What he wanted to do?"

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, holding her head as the memories spoke.

"George Glenn gave no name to the evolved being for which Coordinators were made to help us become," the voice sad. "I call them Newtypes."

"I'm...I'm one of them?" Emily asked painfully, looking up at Shinn and feeling her heart break.

Shinn turned his crimson eyes out the window. "When Dullindal was talking about Newtypes," he said, "he was talking about me. And what he failed to mention is that the powers of a Newtype are painful burdens to have to bear." He looked back at Emily, and she felt her blood run cold as the light in his red eyes was replaced by the pain of experience. "You have those powers. I can sense it, and deep down, I think you can sense it too. Those powers are going to start getting clearer and clearer." He stepped forward, putting a hand on Emily's trembling shoulder. "When I went through this all, nobody was there to hold my hand. Everyone who told me these things wanted to use me as a weapon. I had to figure everything out myself, and I couldn't do that until..." He paused, and Emily looked on in surprise as he was almost overtaken by emotion. "I couldn't do that until it was too late." Shinn shook his head. "So now I've met someone else with the same powers as me, someone who will have the same problem as me. But I don't want anyone else to go through what I had to go through. So that is why I want you to pilot that new unit. I want you to have the power you need to protect what's important to you."

Emily looked away unhappily. "I can't do that," she protested. "I...I'm not a soldier."

"Neither was I," Shinn answered. "I wore the uniform, but that's not all it takes to be a soldier." His eyes darkened grimly. "If Hakim hadn't picked you up at Heaven's Base and you hadn't met me, the Alliance would have discovered your powers for themselves. But they wouldn't offer you power to protect what you want to protect. They would use you as a weapon. They would turn you into nothing better than an Extended. And I don't want that to happen to anyone, let alone anyone who would have to go through what I've gone through."

Emily shook her head again. "I can't," she repeated. "I...just can't, I...I'm afraid to fight..."

Shinn smiled sadly. "Everyone is."

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The Siegfried-class carrier plane Danube was a veteran of anti-partisan warfare in Eastern Europe. It had taken part in the brutal carpet-bombing of Kharkiv, ostensibly to destroy the last vestiges of a Ukrainian Communist Resistance group, but in practicality meant to stun all of Europe into submission and terrify the Resistance into surrender. An entire city had gone up in flames under the brutal wings of the Danube and others— clearly, she had tasted the blood of Resistance cowards and traitors before.

And so, Lieutenant Colonel Kenta Shoyou was satisfied enough to be taking off in it.

The short, muscular Japanese man in a brown Earth Alliance Air Force uniform stood with crossed arms on one of the observation decks, watching as workers down below scrambled to load his silent black Raider Gundam unit into the Danube's sprawling hangar. He had made his name in a mere Jet Windam before the Rearmament Program in CE 76 had pulled units like this out of storage, upgrading their weapons and avionics and putting them back into service to fight off the hordes of the Resistance. They were everywhere, but the cold eyes of Gundams would chill their blood as they had chilled the blood of so many others.

A lifetime of achievements stood behind him, crowned by the glory of his previous assignment. He had fought the Neo-Bolshevik Worker's Party of Russia, as they had liked to call themselves. With little more than a single Siegfried and its mobile suits to work with, he soon absorbed the resources of approximately an entire division, driving the Neo-Bolsheviks from their stronghold in Novgorod across western Russia, into the unforgiving arms of the Ural Mountains, leaving a trail of blood and butchered men in his wake. There he had ended that ragtag band of guerrillas, pushing them from the cities and villages in which they fought best to the mountains, where they were forced to find shelter in the biting cold of winter. And as frostbite and freezing temperatures thinned their ranks, Shoyou, the "Sky Samurai," conducted a bombing campaign that could have rivaled the Kharkiv attack. And when the final survivors of winter and war straggled forward to surrender, he had gleefully drawn his katana and decapitated their leader, right before the disbelieving eyes of the guerrillas...and right before Shoyou's own men opened fire and put an end to the Neo-Bolshevik Worker's Party of Russia forever. His most glorious moment, to be sure.

And it had happened back in December.

With no mountain-bound Communists to fight, Shoyou had been reassigned to the Warsaw Air Base. Europe still had plenty of Resistance activity, but aside from the Kharkiv bombing that had at any rate occurred before Shoyou's arrival, none of the situations were such that commanders called for a fleet of aircraft to level a city. European cities were too valuable for that, apparently.

But now the Minerva was coming.

The Minerva. Shoyou's mouth watered at the prospect of fighting the symbol of the Resistance. Even as he had destroyed the Neo-Bolsheviks in the Urals, he had hoped that fortune would bring the Minerva into his territory. What greater glory could he obtain than turning the ship that some soldiers prayed to into scrap metal?

And those arrogant bastards in the Phantom Pain, he reflected, would have to respect him.

Shoyou glanced at the square-jawed officer that stepped onto the balcony behind him. Captain Reinhardt was a veteran of the Kharkiv bombing— surely he could recognize an opportunity for unheard-of glory when he saw it.

"Colonel," Reinhardt said with a salute. "Report from Warsaw Radar. The Minerva will reach Düsseldorf in a few hours."

Shoyou glanced back towards the Raider as the mechanics locked it down. A captive audience for a glorious victory— what could be better?

"Tell the men to hurry up, then," he ordered. "We have the opportunity of a lifetime, captain. I trust you will not let me down."

"Of course, sir," Reinhardt answered, saluting again and taking his leave.

Shoyou grinned, imagining the Minerva before him.

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Athrun Zala had made it a habit to watch hawkishly over the mechanics as they repaired and maintained the Infinite Justice Gundam. Three years later, he still could not figure out how he had failed so terribly to protect anyone at Solomon's Sword. The memories were as hideously fresh as they had been on January 18th, CE 74— watching the Akatsuki and Mwu La Fllaga inside vanish in a puff of fire, feeling Yzak Jule die, feeling Dearka Elthman slip away, finding the wreckage of the Megami...how?

And of all the people Athrun had thought dead that day, it was Rau Le Creuset who had cheated the Reaper.

That, then, made the name of the Infinite Justice Gundam that much more ironic.

Three years of fostering fledgling Newtype powers had made Athrun perceptive enough to know when someone was coming, and as such, he turned at the feeling of a human presence. There he found the Black Wolf, and now that she had shed her coat, Athrun could see the grain of truth behind the rumors that she was Frankenstein's monster. War had certainly left more than one of its marks on her body.

"So, you're Athrun Zala," the what-was-left-of-a-woman answered. "They tell me you're the one who saved me from a grisly fate. So, uh, thanks." She extended her natural hand, and Athrun hesitantly shook it. "Viveka von Oldendorf. It wouldn't do to make everyone call me 'Black Wolf,' would it?"

"I guess not," Athrun agreed, glancing back at the Infinite Justice. It would have to do without him for a bit— but eventually, he would be back to fine-tune the OS and squeeze every last iota of performance he could out of it.

"They're building me a mobile suit," Viveka went on. "I guess you guys were carrying spares or something. So I'll be sticking around as a pilot." An awkward grin. "Uh, hope you don't mind."

"I'm sure we'll find a way to live with the extra firepower," Athrun answered, crossing his arms and returning his attention to the Justice. "What about the Black Wolf unit?"

Viveka's grin faded. "The Black Wolf of Normandy is undergoing something of a renovation," she explained. "I have no idea how many survived the battle down there, but it can't have been many. Either way, I guess this is the best I can do for them." She shrugged her scarred shoulders. "I do have a little sister to protect, anyway."

Athrun said nothing, staring resolutely down at the Justice.

"Not very talkative, are we?" Viveka asked, the smile returning.

Athrun shrugged himself, still saying nothing. Viveka studied him for a moment; Athrun Zala, one of the most formidable mobile suit pilots in the world, a man with a price on his head so astronomic as to be part of some countries' national budgets, seemed a broken man.

All she could think to do was shrug again. "Well, okay then," she said, turning towards the hangar. "Then I'll go take a look-see at what they're gonna give me."

Athrun glanced after her.

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"I said 'B3,' you ass!" shouted one voice, from a blue-haired man in a black, yellow-lined shirt. "And it as a hit! I hit your goddamn submarine!"

"No you didn't!" shot back the other, the smartly-dressed green-haired man in a red shirt and white sport coat. "You said 'E3,' and it was a miss!"

The combatants stood at opposite ends of the table in the Minerva's crew lounge, glaring each other down as Shinn and Emily entered the room. They both glanced over, and Shinn blinked in surprise.

"Uh, Emily, meet Sting Oakley and Auel Neider," he said, gesturing to them. "If you want. Don't get too close, these Battleship games get kind of heated."

"I-I see," Emily murmured, wishing she could hide behind Shinn. Sting and Auel both blinked uncomprehendingly at her for a moment.

"Oh, right," Sting said. "You're the girl that Shinn's been running around with."

"Wow, if that wasn't the worst way you could have put that," Shinn remarked awkwardly, as Emily tried to contain the blush on her face and Auel snickered. Sting shrugged.

"Eh, you should be so lucky," he answered. "Anyways. Sting Oakley, nice to meet you." He gestured to Auel. "This sore loser is Auel Neider."

"Fuck you, Sting," Auel shot back.

"I think we came at a bad time," Shinn said, glancing back furtively at Emily. "Come on."

Emily looked awkwardly over her shoulder as Sting and Auel went back to fighting. Shinn led her across the lounge, where there was another person sitting near the corner, staring out the window at the inky black expanse of the sea, slowly drifting away.

"And that," Shinn said, "is Stella Loussier."

The blonde-haired woman in a gray ZAFT service coat slowly turned at the sound of her name, and Emily waved meekly.

"Stella," Shinn said, pausing to take her hand and gesture towards Emily, "this is the new pilot. Her name is Emily."

"Um, hi," Emily added awkwardly.

Stella stared blankly at Emily for a moment, before turning her empty violet eyes towards Shinn. "Emily...is Shinn's friend...?" she asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," Shinn agreed.

Stella smiled slowly at Emily. "Then Emily is Stella's friend," she answered.

"Were you watching the sea, Stella?" Shinn asked. Stella nodded.

"But it's dark," she said, "so Stella can't see it very well...and the ship is going away from it..."

"I know, but we'll be back to the sea soon. Okay?"

Stella smiled and returned her attention back out the window as Shinn left her side, leading Emily away.

"Wha...what's...who is Stella?" Emily asked, stumbling for the right words. Shinn glanced over his shoulder, back at Stella as she stared out at the ocean.

"She and Sting and Auel are Extended," he explained. Emily gasped in surprise. "Stella's a Class III, the most altered." He looked back gravely at her, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I met her four years ago and I've been protecting her ever since, and I've been trying to reverse all the changes the Alliance made to her to make her act this way, but I haven't really been successful. So whatever you do, do not use the word 'die' around her. Understood?"

Emily nodded brokenly, and looked around again. "They...they were all in the Junius War...? How am I supposed to measure up to them?"

Shinn glanced back at Sting and Auel. "You'll have your own battle to fight," he said.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The sprawling map of Eurasia was active again on the main screen of the Charlemagne, with the Minerva's projected course sweeping across Siberia. Danilov stood with Vera to the side and Sven in front, all studying the map closely.

"If they are going to cut across Siberia and head south at the Sea of Okhotsk, like we predict," Danilov said, "then the best course of action would be to prevent them from getting out of Europe."

"Which means we have to attack soon," Sven concluded.

"Precisely." Danilov pointed at the approximate location of Warsaw Air Base on the map. "I've called ahead to the Shoyou unit at Warsaw, and they've agreed to fly in and attack the Minerva from the front. We'll let the Shoyou unit soften up the Minerva, and then sweep in from behind to cut them off."

Sven studied the map for a moment. "They will be passing over Düsseldorf soon," he observed. "The Minerva is known to avoid combat over populated areas for fear of collateral damage." He looked towards Danilov, and Danilov felt a chill run down his spine at the emptiness of Sven's eyes. "We can attack them over Düsseldorf and take advantage of that."

Danilov looked uneasily back at the map. "Captain," he said, "that would violate, among others, the Corsica Treaty— "

"Irrelevant," Sven interrupted. "The Minerva is not a signatory to the Corsica Treaty. None of the units of the Resistance are. They do not enjoy any of its protections."

"We nevertheless must uphold the spirit of the treaty," Danilov countered. "It would be wrong to use civilians as shields, as you suggest."

"Resistance fighters have been known to do the same thing," Sven pointed out, "if not outright attack civilians."

"Then how would we, of the Phantom Pain, be any different or better if we were to adopt the tactics of the Resistance? We have a moral responsibility— "

The gleam in Sven's eye froze Danilov's blood and cut off his words. "There is no place for morality in war, Captain Danilov," Sven said. "Our enemies show none. If we show them mercy where they do not, then we will be destroyed. We must meet their ruthlessness with ruthlessness to match. That is what it means to serve in the Phantom Pain."

Danilov said nothing as Sven returned his attention to the map.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Emily guessed that her room, shared with Viveka, had once belonged to someone else, but the dust and the ambiance of the room suggested that whoever that someone was, they had left the room a long time ago. And as such, the former occupant's fate was something that Emily saw fit not to inquire into.

That left Viveka leaning against the cabinet near the head of her bed, mismatched arms crossed, regarding her sister thoughtfully.

"So," she said, "how you holding up?"

Emily, slumped on her bed opposite of Viveka's, glanced up at her sister. "I'm okay..." she said. "But...I'm gonna be a pilot..."

"A pilot?" Viveka asked, arching the eyebrow over her only eye. "Pilot of what?"

"They're building another Destiny Gundam," Emily explained. "And...Shinn wants me to pilot it..."

Viveka took a swig of water or beer or whatever it was she was drinking— Emily certainly had no idea. "Well, are you going to?" she asked.

Emily looked down in defeat at the floor. "That's what I was going to ask you," she said. "I...I can't be a mobile suit pilot."

Viveka studied her sister's worried face for a moment. "Well," she said, "Shinn Asuka is no ordinary guy. To a point, I'll trust him. And besides, what else were you planning on doing on this ship?"

"I have less of a chance of getting blown up if I just wash dishes," Emily mumbled.

"Kid, you're on the Minerva," Viveka laughed. "The only way you stand a good chance of not getting blown up is if you're nowhere near it." Another shrug. "You don't have to if you don't want to, I guess. You did kinda get sucked up into all this against your will."

Emily dropped her head into her hands with a sigh. "Shinn wants me to be a pilot," she murmured. "But...I'd have to be a soldier. I can't be a soldier."

"I don't think Shinn wanted to be a soldier either," Viveka pointed out. "That's what the stories about him all say. 'course, the guy's got a whole layer of mystery and intrigue around him, but still, he isn't exactly hardcore military either."

Emily sighed again. "I...just want to think about it first," she said. "Is that fair?"

Viveka smiled back. "He'll understand."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Night had finally cast its cloak over the European continent as the Minerva sailed onward, heading northeast over France and towards the Low Countries. In the distance, well to starboard, the lights of Paris were visible from the deck.

Few crewmembers ventured onto the Minerva's open-air deck after sunset, due to the cold. But that was why Meyrin Hawke had the blue overcoat of a ZAFT officer on as she stood on the deck, staring at the lights of Paris panning by.

She glanced towards the main hatch as Shinn Asuka emerged into the cold, slowly walking up next to her. She watched him carefully for a moment— every time she laid eyes on him, the past reminded her malevolently of itself. Three years of war later, she was willing to brush aside her hidden affections for the man before her as a schoolgirl's crush, but that was while he had served on the Minerva and worn the uniform of ZAFT. Now he was back on the Minerva, but everything had changed.

Shinn put his hands on the rail. "I think Emily will join us," he said quietly.

"I didn't doubt she would," Meyrin answered. "You Newtypes seem to have a language all your own."

Shinn smiled bitterly. "Yeah. A language I'm still getting the hang of."

Meyrin glanced over at him. Four years ago, she would not have been bold enough to even speak to him if not spoken to first, but then again, four years ago it was Talia Gladys who had to command this ship.

"Are you trying to protect her?" she asked.

Shinn looked grimly at Meyrin, and then returned his attention to Paris. "I don't think I need to tell you that I changed when I was with the Mad Typhoon Gang," he said quietly. "I met a girl there, and I guess we had a relationship or something."

"You guess?" Meyrin asked, not altogether comfortable with discussing what she feared would be Shinn's love life.

"It was a mess," Shinn admitted with a shrug. "I promised I would protect her with the powers I had as a Newtype. Instead, the Freedom Gundam killed her. And I've had to live with the knowledge that for as powerful as people say I am, and for as feared as I am today, I couldn't keep that promise." He shook his head. "I know I'd never be able to forgive myself if I let the Alliance get their hands on Emily and turn her into something like Stella. But I've promised to protect people before, and I couldn't."

Meyrin was silent a moment. "You've protected us..." Shinn glanced at her in surprise. "You might not remember it, but I do. After you destroyed that mobile armor at Orb, you told me that you wanted to protect the ship." She looked down at the hull of the vessel that she now commanded. "Luna...told me that."

Shinn looked over her, and Meyrin needed no Newtype powers to see the painful nerve that had struck.

"There's a lot of people I couldn't protect," Shinn said quietly. "And I don't want anyone else to end up like all those that I let down."

Meyrin smiled thinly. "Being a Newtype must be hard."

Shinn smiled back. "That's one way to put it."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The right-hand shoulder shell of the Abyss Gundam slid shut, its solid shell cannons reloaded, and on the gantry near the Abyss's cockpit, Auel Neider sat back with a sigh.

"Man, this place is getting crowded again," he said, glancing across the hangar at the three mobile suits under construction. The second Destiny unit was almost complete, but work was proceeding slowly on the Savior and Legend.

On the other side of the gantry, Sting Oakley crossed his arms. "Yeah, but more firepower's never a bad thing," he said. "I just hope these new guys don't suck."

Auel glanced towards the Legend. "Well, that Rau guy was, like, a ZAFT ace or something, so he'd better not suck. But I dunno about the other two."

Sting shrugged. "I hope they all do well," he said. "It'd be a shame to bury any of the crew, y'know?"

"Yeah," Auel agreed. He smiled sadly. "Well, I guess we did find a home. Ain't that what Captain Lee told us to do?"

"'I'd like to think he would be in charge of this ship if he were still alive," Sting replied. "But I think we're doing the right thing. He told us to do what we wanted with our lives."

"Besides," Auel said, smirking up at the Abyss, "I kinda like the new reputation."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"You guys sure know how to treat a girl!" Viveka laughed as she gazed up at the half-complete skeleton of the Savior Gundam. "Man, this thing will be way better than that BuCUE. I always wanted a Gundam."

By her side, Athrun Zala arched an eyebrow at her. "A flight-capable mobile suit is a much different beast than a ground-based machine."

"Yeah, well, I can handle it," Viveka answered. "Humor me here. A couple of days ago, I was fending off a bunch of drunken guerrillas in a forest who wanted blowjobs all around. Now I'm on board the friggin' Minerva, getting my very own Gundam. Horatio Alger couldn't write anything better."

Athrun glanced aside awkwardly. "I guess that's an improvement," he coughed. "It'll take a few days to complete, since all the parts have been in storage for three years and need to be checked and possibly upgraded with newer avionics."

"I thought so," Viveka agreed. "I'll find something to do." She glanced over at the dour blue-haired pilot. "Thanks, by the way. I don't want to be useless or anything, but I wasn't expecting you guys to go all out with finding me a purpose."

Athrun shuffled uncomfortably. "We'll probably be attacked soon," he mumbled, turning to leave. "So be ready for combat."

The boy hero of the PLANTs scurried away uneasily, and Viveka watched him go in confusion.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The sea was merely a sliver of blue on the horizon now as the Minerva pulled inland, cutting over the ancient continent of Europe and the glitzy, high-tech cities and suburbs under a brilliant blue sky. Days like this, with a calm breeze and a beautiful open sky stretching over everything, were the most popular days for the crew to venture out on the deck and bask in the sun— at least before an Earth Alliance unit stumbled upon them and they'd all have to go back inside and blow someone up.

As such, on days like this, one could see all the way out to the shores of England. And so, Stella Loussier stood on the deck, hands on the rails, watching the sea. It was so far away, but it would have to do. Soon the sea would be too far away to see at all, so she would just have to make do with it while she could.

Shinn was there too, but he seemed sad. That seemed to be how he always was. Stella glanced over at him. At least his new friend, Emily, seemed nice. Stella always had friends on the Minerva, but that didn't mean she wasn't happy to have new friends too.

"Shinn is sad again..." she murmured. Shinn glanced over at her. "Shinn is always sad."

"I try not to be," he answered with a shrug, turning to face her. "I guess it just happens."

Stella looked back towards the sea. "Is Emily special...?" she asked. "Like Shinn?"

Shinn's face turned sadder still, and Stella blinked in surprise at him.

"That will depend," Shinn said, "on whether she wants to be."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

To be continued...