Crossover Fan Fiction / Gundam SEED Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Crossing Barriers ❯ Ripple Effect ( Chapter 17 )

Crossing Barriers

 

Gundam Wing and Gundam Seed are the sole property of their creators and distributing studios. I have no financial interest in either series. Nor am I receiving any financial gain from this fan fiction work. I do however own all plot elements not part of the original and all self-created characters. Thank you. Enjoy.

 

Special note: Yaoi (homosexual pairings) is a plot element of this story. There will be NO explicit material but there will be sections where it is reasonably clear that sex is happening or has happened.

 

Beta Reader: T'Amara

 

 

Ripple Effect

 

Andy Waltfeld stuck his head in the engine room of the Robert H Hobart, one of only two transports with possibly fixable engines sitting at Endymion Crater at the moment. She also had the only undamaged internal air supply as well, making the Hobart the de facto command and hospital ship. It was just lucky she was a fair sized vessel because they needed every square inch of deck space in her they could get to set the wounded and those so traumatized they weren't safe anywhere else.

 

But Commander Waltfeld wasn't here to check on any of the wounded. He was looking for someone in perfectly good shape, a bit on the temperamental side right now maybe, but definitely not injured. He found him glaring at the ship's engineer, who was staring at the deck.

 

“What do you mean, you don't stock the parts?” Mu La Flaga's voice rose dangerously. “What kind of outfit lifts out of dock without basic maintenance materials? I'm talking about standard valves and shunts here, not some exotic military toys!”

 

“Mu, don't shout at the man,” Andy said soothingly. “It isn't his fault the Lunar Tour Lines is a cut rate company with a terrible safety record. They carry nothing the law doesn't force them to stock. I've already sent that undersized but very determined Alliance Commander over to the Great Looney Excursions Heinlein IV. If a ship needs it, they'll have it. Those people do not skimp on their safety margins.”

 

Mu La Flaga gave him a look that said he'd fried a circuit somewhere. “You sent that kid to get parts from a chief engineer for a ship that isn't his?”

 

“She's a Rockway,” Andy grinned at him like a shark. “She'll come back with everything on the list. No civilian tells a Rockway they aren't providing supplies in an emergency situation. You should ask Joule to tell you about his run-in with her twin brother some time.”

 

He shrugged, “I didn't come down here to discuss Honor Rockway though. We're in better shape than I thought we were going to be in. Commander Mansfield has jury-rigged a system to allow us to recharge individual suit air supplies directly from the tanks on those five wrecked transports. Everyone we can keep suited up, we can keep aired up. Which will take a lot of the pressure off this boat. Then too, between them, the newsies have managed to get one of their big comm sets working so we have two way communications again.”

 

“How soon can we expect help,” Mu asked.

 

“Local resources are rolling now,” Andy replied quietly. “But most of the military resources were sent to L-4 the other day and they're coming overland with almost no cover. What's left here on the Moon has to be held to secure the bases here. The fleets are headed back as fast as their engines can blast but they're still a few hours out. The overland relief and the space forces should get here just about the same time.”

 

Mu went very still. “What did they leave at L-4?”

 

A slow, cold smile touched Waltfeld's lips. “Why, I believe they left a picket boat each.”

 

“Crap!”

 

“I made that suggestion to Admiral Hokeda but he didn't see it that way.”

 

“The Princess is gonna have his guts for garters if anything happens to Kira.”

 

“She'll have to get to him before Lacus does. Remember, Aube is at the bottom of the gravity well. The PLANTs aren't.”

 

“Yeah? Well, he'd do well to remember she's got access to Asuka's Destiny. And she isn't afraid of Shin. She'll just `borrow' it without permission if she's mad enough. Oh, I think the Princess could get here first.”

 

Andy gave that a few moments thought and had to agree. Cagalli would be in more kinds of trouble than she'd likely imagine when she got back but that wouldn't stop her from taking the powerful mobile suit in the first place. And she was a competent pilot, no matter what Shin thought about it. Destiny carried a secondary, Natural-friendly OS now even if Asuka chose to pretend it didn't. All Aube mobile suits did; having systems for both Coordinators and Naturals on each machine was required by Aube military regulations and civil safety codes. Even if it hadn't, Andy wasn't absolutely sure Cagalli wouldn't be able to pilot it anyway. The Princess did a lot of things girls and Naturals weren't supposed to be capable of doing.

 

Waltfeld just shook his head slowly. “Lets hope we're both jumping at shadows here. The grand procession should be just fine.”

 

“Yeah,” Mu did not sound convinced, “who'd jump a pair of capitol ships and three escorts almost as good?”

 

A hatch banged somewhere behind Andrew's back and the sound of running feet approaching rapidly was heard. The two of them looked at each other. Then Miriallia Haw skidded to a stop in the hatchway of the engine room, eyes more than a bit wide.

 

“Come, you both gotta come! That wrecked computer on Mendel finally picked a good time to act up! Someone's attacking the Foreign Minister's convoy!”

 

She whipped around and ran back the way she'd come, the two of them hard behind her.

 

“How bad is it?” Mu demanded to know.

 

“I'm not sure! There were ships coming at them from two directions when Murrue sent me to find you. No!” She grabbed Mu's arm when he tried to surge past her to reach the space suit locker so he would be able to reach the news communications van. “No, the bridge! We've got it up on the screens on the bridge!”

 

He changed directions like a cat, darting ahead of her with a powerful kick off the corridor wall to aid his new vector choice. Andy steadied the girl briefly, then the two of them were right behind him. The three of them burst onto the surprisingly spacious bridge and came to an abrupt stop when they ran into the small crowd already there. Murrue reached out and grabbed Mu, forcing him to stay stopped.

 

“How bad?” He asked her.

 

“Very,” the Captain of the Archangel replied grimly. “They're using the same kind of mobile suit carrier the ships who attacked here had. Mu, this is all tied together.”

 

“Nine attackers are closing one end and twelve the other.” A clear soprano voice said bleakly. “They're in serious trouble. Especially with the Minister aboard. He's got this notion he's God's unidentified gift to the military. He's going to get a lot of people killed.”

 

The tiny speaker wore an Alliance Navy Commander's uniform. Rich, deep auburn hair spilled across her shoulders and her blue/violet eyes had furious sparks in them. She was standing on the second navigator's chair. At exactly five feet tall, Honor Rockway sometimes needed assistance in seeing over others in close groups.

 

She held out a small data tablet to Commander Waltfeld. “Got everything on your list Sir. The people from the Heinlein IV will be delivering the materials shortly.”

 

“Thanks.” Andy absently took it from her hand, his eyes and attention on the unfolding action on the main screen.

 

It was a maddening battle to watch. The damned mainframe at Mendel needed to be overhauled or shot, preferably shot. The viewpoint jumped and skipped without warning between the many security cameras. For a few agonizing moments, it even broadcast the placid view of Earth from the colony from a camera on the far side of the colony from the battle! But over all, it was relatively easy for any experienced soldier to follow the fight. And to notice something.

 

“ZAFT has a mobile suit out there with Mirage Colloid capability.” Rockway suddenly said quietly.

 

“Yes,” Murrue Ramius agreed softly, “I think you're right.”

 

“I can think of some places where that bit of information isn't going to be popular.” Andy leaned forward, as though a few inches would improve his view.

 

“They're winning,” Mu noted with satisfaction, “and if he helps makes that win possible you know and I know they'll hold their noses and just pretend they never saw it.”

 

“Not unless they save the Foreign Minister,” Rockway cautioned. “If he's lost, they'll be screaming for heads.”

 

“That'll depend on how he's lost.” Waltfeld leaned back again, giving up on the concept of incremental gains in visual improvement. “If the enemy pulls out something overpowering enough, even that can be overlooked.”

 

The young Alliance officer shook her head. “It would have to be pretty spectacular to be overlooked when it's so clear they're going to win this now.”

 

“Are they?” Murrue suddenly asked sharply. “All of you, look at how those ships are moving!”

 

“But, are they nuts?” Mir asked in shock. “This can't be right! They look like they're setting up to attack from both sides while on the same plane!”

 

“No,” Mu sounded just as stunned, “no, you're right. That's what the idiots are doing all right. Oh shit. This is going to be nasty.”

 

They watched the developing disaster in stunned silence. The feeling of helplessness was not welcome but it was all too familiar. With Mendel's erratic computer, it wasn't possible to know if this was a real time transmission or if it had happened a few hours ago. Whichever it was, no one on the Moon could do anything but watch.

 

The lockstep progression to catastrophe moved along as though scripted. The veterans in the tense audience ducked their heads and shielded their eyes as soon as the first beams fired. Flaring light from the tragedy thousands of kilometers away flooded the bridge of the Robert H Hobart. When it faded, those same veterans were the first to look up and find the disaster they'd expected. They also discovered there were a tiny handful of survivors.

 

“Damn it!” Someone close to the screen yelled. “Two of the bastards made it!”

 

“Kira's alive.” Mir was crying on Murrue's shoulder, peering through tears at the screen. “And so is Yzak and whoever has that other suit. But those pirates are still there!”

 

“Yeah well, . . . shit no!” Mu shouted as the images suddenly stuttered, froze, and then went black. “YOU PIECE OF CRAP! YOU CAN'T CUT OUT NOW!”

 

“It just did.” Andy was severely frustrated too but the situation didn't need both of them screaming at the blank screen.

 

Mu turned to him. “Andy, the kid's out there with Joule out of commission and only one man for backup. There's two ships left. We gotta do something.”

 

“What?” Waltfeld asked quietly. “Akatsuki doesn't have that kind of range Mu.”

 

The blue eyes hardened, suddenly becoming much more like Neo Roanoke's than Mu La Flaga's. “Let's get to the newsies van. We need to speak to a fleet commander or three. They can turn a couple of the faster ships around. What they're sending here is overkill anyway.”

 

“I'll suit up and go over to the shell,” Murrue told them flatly. “Someone needs to let Athrun know what's happening. And he may be able to put more pressure on the ZAFT fleet commander than you or Andy can.”

 

“I'll take all the help I can get,” Mu agreed grimly. “But I'd be surprised if he hasn't heard from Ms. Clyne before we even get hold of him.”

 

“I'll give you backup with my people.” Commander Rockway said quickly as she scrambled out of the chair she'd been standing on. “They might not be inclined to listen to Aube or ZAFT personnel, but I know Vice-Admiral Franks. He's the kind who listens to political reality. The Irwin was right there with them the whole time. And given the defense those people put up, and what it cost ZAFT, the political reality is we can't be seen as deserting them. The price at the peace table would be too high.”

 

“I don't care why he'd do it,” Mu admitted. “All that matters is that he'd turn a Nelson or two around and boot them back there.”

 

“None of which will happen if we don't get moving!” Andy snapped, breaking up the natural drift toward wanting to talk about the situation with a demand for action on it.

 

The four of them suited up and hurried out. Murrue boosted over to the wreckage of the life shell and the ongoing recovery efforts there to fetch Athrun. The other three went straight to the one fully functional news van with two way communications, the others were still only able to broadcast, the pirates having paid particular attention to their reception equipment when they were breaking things. Murrue joined them with an anxious Zala in tow within minutes of their arrival.

 

And in the end, it was not necessary. The ZAFT commander had already heard from the PLANTs. All seven of the swifter Nazca's had been sent back to L-4 while the six Laurasia's continued on for Endymion. The Kusanagi had turned back alone to make a high speed run only another Izumo class could have kept up with. The remaining Aube fleet continued to head for the moon with the Izumo herself on guard for more ugly surprises. And the Alliance, acting on orders from Vice-President Harper, who had beaten them to the news van, was already in the process of splitting off three Nelson class ships to run back while the bulk of the fleet came on.

 

All they could do was take seats in the corner of the presentation cabin, where in better times an audience of journalists would be asking questions of a news figure, and wait for the reports. But the fastest of the ships still were almost forty hours away from L-4. The relief fleets would reach them at Endymion well before those ships could get to Mendel. The reports were going to be long in coming and incomplete when they did for many, many hours yet.

 

* * * * * * *

 

“Ms. Clyne? Please, Shiho, one of you talk to me!” Meyrin begged the two frozen faced young women who sat so still and silently in the Chairwoman's office. “They're alive, honest! You saw the film! They survived! Please, please talk to me!”

 

“Meyrin,” a weary voice said heavily, “don't. Let them be. There is nothing we can tell them that isn't subject to revision when the fleets get there. And they know it.”

 

The fiery haired girl, tears streaking her face, whipped around angrily. “That's not nice Commander Joule! You shouldn't say things like that!”

 

The very tall, quite slender young man in ZAFT white, his pale gray hair and clear gray eyes a fair match for the rest of his complexion at the moment, just gave her a speaking look. “Yzak's my cousin, Meyrin. I understand what they're going through. I'm sorry, I know you really want to help but this isn't the best time for blind optimism. Just, I don't know, just be here for them. Quietly. Make sure they get something to eat, something harmless to drink. When they finally fade, just tuck them in on the couches here and leave the vid feeds on. The only thing that'll help now is solid information and that's still at least thirty-five hours away.”

 

“But,” the girl turned to look anxiously at the silent pair, “but they need more than that!”

 

“I know.” Voril Joule agreed, exhaustion clear in every line of his body. “But there's nothing we can give them that'll help. You're going to need to rest yourself. You've been running top speed ever since that broadcast, trying to see to it that everyone had what they needed. You've neglected to make sure you've had what you need. You won't be much help if you pass out on us now.”

 

“But . . . .”

 

“No! Get on that comm and order something easy to digest and a very large quantity of soothing tea. And when it comes, you will also eat and drink something.” Commander Joule was not going to listen to the girl babble any longer, it wasn't helping either Lacus or Shiho and it was driving him nuts.

 

He leaned forward and fixed her with a sharp stare. “Lieutenant Hawk, at this moment it would be very helpful if you could recall the kind of calm under pressure that once made you a very fine CIC for the Minerva.”

 

She stared at him. “Who ever told you about that?”

 

He sighed. “Athrun Zala is, well I suppose I actually can call the man a friend myself but more to the point, he's Yzak's friend. Even if neither of them will admit it. On those occasions when he and Yzak could actually let themselves talk to each other, one could overhear some very interesting takes on events recorded somewhat differently by formal history. And Athrun knew you when you held that position. He still speaks quite well of you. So, please, live up to Zala's image. Because that's the Meyrin Hawk we need right now.”

 

“I, . . . .”

 

He smiled quietly at her, hoping to steady the upset girl. She still hadn't gotten over being in love with Athrun by the look of it. And this disaster had first threatened Athrun and now threatened her new boss and the team she was just getting used to being part of. It was not really good luck for her that she'd come with Shiho when the other young woman had come to give Lacus her report on her new mobile suit. But if she was going to be the go-to person Yzak wanted her to become when he had Shiho out of the office, she was going to need to at least become serious about going forward with her life, even if she never did manage to completely release the past.

 

To his pleased surprise, Meyrin stopped babbling and sat down for several long moments while she very carefully drew in very deep breaths and released them very slowly. It was a calming technique he knew quite well. Done right, and she seemed to be, it could allow you to drop an amazing amount of tension very quickly. So he was not at all surprised to see her stand quietly when she finished and begin to carry out his instructions with quick efficiency.

 

The meal turned out to be a very thick soup, one tasty enough to keep both Lacus and Shiho slowly eating until they'd finished their bowls. Three teas had been sent up. Voril brewed the calming one for Meyrin to supply her charges during the meal. When they were done with food, he made them one cup each of the relaxing one. He included Meyrin in that round just as he'd made sure she got some soup and some of the first tea.

 

He managed to persuade the three young women to sit together on the couch. It didn't surprise him or the very quiet and sharply observant man who was Clyne's Chief of Security when the three of them ended up huddled together, almost clinging to each other for support. Kira was the center of Lacus' world. Yzak centered Shiho's. With both of them missing now, it wasn't really a shock to find them both uncharacteristically adrift at the moment. And Meyrin was one of those girls who just had a gift for helping others, once she calmed down herself that was.

 

It actually helped to have the data stream finally trickle down to dribbles. Both Lacus and Shiho understood what distance actually meant in space and that no one was withholding data, they simply weren't close enough to have any more. The information stream was out of new data for the moment. There wouldn't really be anything to update until the Kusanagi got close enough to run a real scan.

 

Even though she wasn't functioning well, Lacus did manage to remember to schedule an emergency Council meeting for late in the morning. While there wouldn't likely be any definitive information from Mendel, there were other areas that would be ready to report. It was a relief to more than Voril and the Security Chief to have the woman begin to recover enough to recall her duties. Both of them knew she would be better off if she could concentrate enough to actually do something. Voril could only hope she'd remember to include Shiho in whatever it was finally decided was going to be done. That girl needed an outside focus too.

 

The long, nerve-wracking last two days were finally showing as the girls began to drift toward sleep. Once he was sure sleep was winning, he made them the last of the teas. This one would help them find their sleep dreamless. The PLANTs needed Lacus Clyne functional. To become functional again the minimum she needed was real, restful sleep. Nightmares would not help there.

 

It proved as effective as promised. Joule and the Chief tucked light blankets in around the sleeping girls to further improve their rest. Voril himself dropped off sitting in a large, overstuffed chair and would wake many hours later to find someone had done the same for him. The Chief however would be up through the night and into the following morning, making sure the latest data, however limited it might be, was always ready to hand for that moment when the Chairwoman of the Supreme Council of the PLANTs would wake.

 

* * * * * * *

 

“Shit!” Someone said softly as the newscast ended with a frozen picture of three ZAFT mobile suits running for the questionable safety of the surface of Mendel Colony.

 

“So, it's a complete failure then.” Captain Terasawa shook her head slowly. “This is worse than I was expecting, a lot worse.”

 

The three Captains of the Vulture Fleet sat in the meeting room aboard the Starving Vulture, reduced to staring silence by the completeness of the destruction. None of them had expected the ambush to come off without losses; they were all military veterans themselves and knew just what kind of folly the final attack plan had been. But they hadn't anticipated anything this devastating either.

 

The Red Swords were functionally gone. Napci had committed five of their seven ships to that fight and only the Duelist had survived. Given that Yamato had also survived, the continued well-being of that ship and Mitchell's Cleaver was very open to question. Especially since the damned Coordinator had an injured comrade to protect.

 

If they had the brains God gave geese, they'd just run like rabbits. Somehow though, Terasawa doubted they had that much mental ability left among the lot of them. No, some idiot was going to want to shoot something and Yamato would come back up and finish the fight all by himself.

 

She wasn't certain just why she was so sure the victory would go to the Coordinator but she had no doubts that it would. Lady Luck had deserted the men and ships sent after that damn kid. Something, something with real power too, had that boy in its hand! There was no other rational explanation for how he'd managed to survive two wars and this damned ambush!

 

Fine, she'd cut her losses. Ilene mentally crossed Kira Yamato permanently off her list of `acceptable targets'. He was too lucky, his enemies ended up too often dead, he wasn't worth the risk. Let someone else with more hate and better backup try for him from now on. Her speech to that bastard Hannam hadn't really been serious when she'd made it. She was serious now though. There were people who lived under divine protection; she believed that with her whole heart. And she was almost convinced now that Yamato was one of them.

 

Claude Boothe was dead as well. His Siegfried had been blown to unrecognizable bits in that final shoot-out. Since he'd brought three ships to the fight, his `fleet' was also functionally gone. She could only hope someone with some genuine brains would pick up the survivors from his group and Napci's and make a real fleet out of them. They would be needed to stop Blue Cosmos.

 

Of the male fleet commanders who'd first let themselves be drawn into that bastard's scheming, only Dieter Ruhde was left now. The Captain of the Ice Dragon had developed Jupiter Fever almost overnight as was the usual way for a Natural who came down with that nasty bug. He'd been unable to lead, sending his number two, Akumbo Assam, to command the other four ships.

 

He was probably still out of his head with the delusions the Fever brought with it. He was going to be a very, very unhappy man when he recovered, if he did. The Fever killed a good third of all who contracted it. His crew was just fortunate that it was not easy to catch or they'd all be in trouble, bottled up on that ship with a contagious Captain. She had to wonder what the fool had been doing a couple weeks ago to give it to himself and if he'd count himself lucky to have done so when he learned what had happened.

 

“So, now what?” Mickey Peters asked slowly.

 

“We keep our heads down and our ships out of sight,” Ilene snarled. “They've just failed, spectacularly failed. But in doing so, they've given every government with a pop gun toting patrol boat out here the right to declare open war on us. And they will.”

 

She sat back in her chair with grim finality. A glance around the table showed her no dissent. But then, she hadn't expected any. None of these women were stupid. They all understood the realities of both war and piracy.

 

“The tide's beginning to turn against us then.” Yuki Hartono, Captain of the Sated Vulture just nodded. “Our lucks run a long time. It had to thin out some time.”

 

“It hasn't deserted us yet,” Ilene said evenly. “You'll note we're all still alive. But if we stick around that Blue Cosmos scavenger it will vanish like soap bubbles, with his generous help I'd like to add! Hannam intends to end up the man holding all the cards. Everyone else is a tool, to be used and then broken so it can't be turned back on him.”

 

“Agreed,” Lucy So of the Smiling Vulture said shortly.

 

“And what do you think we should do now? Raid the PLANTs? Or targets on Earth itself?” Mickey asked cautiously.

 

“I told you, we vanish,” Terasawa replied decisively. “We take the ships to the base and put them and all the mobile suits into temporary mothballs and disperse across the rebuilding colonies, the Moon, and the Earth. It's time to hide our people for a while. The Vulture Fleet needs to simply disappear. Most of us have other identities we can pick up again. The few who don't or who simply want to stay in space will break out the cruiser with me and continue quietly tracking the signal data until we get a lock on the location of both Blue Cosmos space bases.”

 

She looked around. “I'm not too proud to sell that information to the ZAFT either by the way. They'll have the firepower to take them out in one strike. We don't and aren't likely to ever build up to that kind of strength. No, we can use one enemy to kill the other; and make them pay us handsomely for the chance to do it too!”

 

The smile she gave them all made them a touch uneasy. Terasawa was a better than good leader, but there were a couple points where her sanity was honestly open to question. Anything relating to the almost twenty year dead religious leader Jun Yat Moon was one and Blue Cosmos was another. Still, so far she'd made her instabilities work for them. And she had a good point about the relative ability to destroy the space bases.

 

“If we can pinpoint the land bases, do you think the Aube would pay for those?” So asked thoughtfully.

 

“No,” Hartono said before Ilene could. “They don't act beyond their own borders, remember? The young Lioness has her Council in a steel grip now and the full backing of her people. They'll not stir unless they're outright attacked.”

 

“Which is the real reason I didn't kill Zala,” Terasawa pointed out dourly. “He's a cherished friend at the very least. If the more lurid rumors are accurate, he's likely to end up her husband. Killing him would bring Cagalli Yula Athha into this to the bitter end, however long it took her to reach that end. Worse, it would set her brother on our trail. And he would be coming with intent to kill. I'd rather not take that risk. No, we can sell Blue Cosmos to the Eurasians. They owe those people so much blood it isn't even funny.”

 

“Oh, you've got that right,” Yuki agreed bitterly, “for JOSH-A alone if for no other betrayal.”

 

“Yes,” Ilene agreed coldly. “And we all know there have been many, many betrayals there, large and small. They'd probably like to settle with the Atlantic Federation too.”

 

Lucy shook her head. “They aren't strong enough, even now, to try that.”

 

“But that doesn't mean they won't try to undermine them.” Mickey pointed out very quietly. “There's a lot of hate there. We should spend some serious time scouting out just what those bastards are up to. They're actually more dangerous to us than the Alliance is. They think in much longer terms when they plan revenge.”

 

All of them gave the Starving Vulture's Executive Officer a thoughtful look. She had a damn good point there. It was no secret to them that there was a cabal of young and mid-level officers among the Chinese who had rather grandiose ideas of their place in the world. And that place didn't include bowing to anyone else, especially not to anyone of European background.

 

Eyes met eyes around the table. No word was spoken but a consensus built quickly. They were Asian themselves; they understood the arrogance of those racist hot-bloods. They understood the historic background as well. They were intimately familiar with the kind of wounded pride that drove those men.

 

And all nations cycled. Egypt had ruled for thousands of years, Rome for a few centuries. England and France had had their days of glory once too. The North Americans had held on a lot longer than anyone would have expected them to. Perhaps it was now their time to fall and China's to rise again. Yes, perhaps it was. But that wasn't necessarily good for their business.

 

No, if the Alliance fell they would benefit only as long as chaos lasted. Having China ready to step into the power vacuum they seemed to want to create would not be healthy for any pirate. Ilene Terasawa took one last look around the table and smiled grimly. The Alliance could eat dirt for all she cared, but she would not help those arrogant bastards, so like her damn father, to step into their vacant place.

 

No, chaos alone would serve. So chaos, its creation and maintenance, would be the Vulture Fleet's new goal. The Captains of the Fleet sat down to many hours of serious planning to ensure that goal was met.

 

* * * * * * *

 

“What are you watching now?” G asked caustically as he stalked past the kitchen in the direction of the uninspired selections on the pantry shelves.

 

“The news, what else is there to pay attention to that matters right now?” J asked just as acidly in return.

 

“Wonderful! Now you'll be depressed for the rest of the day. You're such a joy to be around when you've been doing that. The universe won't go away, just shut the damn thing off for a few hours. I'm sure you'll be less inclined to hand me the wrong parts if your brain isn't fried from listening to that drivel.”

 

“Actually, it isn't all bad today,” J grinned wolfishly. “Seems someone managed to sneak a homemade bomb into Crimson Dawn's main mobile suit plant. According to Une, it's going to be off-line for a week or more before they can clean up the mess.”

 

G snorted. “You didn't get that off the news feeds.”

 

“Of course not,” J chuckled evilly. “No, the news is oddly silent on such an important item.”

 

“One wonders why,” G said, dripping sarcasm. “What else did the good General have to say?”

 

“Several things that have bearing on our operations here actually. Firstly, that bomb wasn't a Preventer device. It was some very clever and very angry colonial who built and delivered it. Une says it was a suicide device although she doesn't have good data on what pushed the man to do it. And while it will have short term benefits, it has just made the planned Preventer attack a great deal more complicated.”

 

“Have they gotten any other facilities set up to build those damn suits yet?” G interrupted.

 

“Une says no, and yes, I did think to ask her by the way. But you and I know that's only a question of time now. This attack will push them very hard to accelerate their construction rates. Between this loss and what one of Colonel Saito's teams managed to pull off again, Crimson Dawn is suddenly hurting a bit for mobile weapons.”

 

G looked up with interest. “What happened? I haven't read any of the reports yet, been too busy completing the last connections on Epyon's restored heat whip.”

 

“Apparently they didn't learn enough from the man's attack at Fort Bragg last month. He got another infiltration team inside one of their larger mobile suit staging bases, this one someplace I've never heard of in California, and destroyed over forty suits and did significant damage to at least thirty more. He copied Wu Fei's attack at Victoria too and took out at least three barracks as well. So they've lost the pilots as well as the suits. And the trained pilots will be harder to replace now.”

 

That earned him a slow nod as G pulled a pair of pre-packaged meals off the shelf without looking at them, his mind distracted by more important things than the meal menu. “I take it recruiting is falling off a bit then?”

 

“It seems to be,” J replied thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, it's hard to say for sure. But there's a finite supply of trained mobile suit pilots in any case and a lot of them preferred the ESUN. The genuine veterans tended to be very chary of getting dragged back into a war. While a lot that went on behind the backs of people like the President and Relena has made a lot of people very disgusted with the government, the Rational Revolution is no longer making any new friends.”

 

“That's taken them a lot less time to make themselves unwelcome than I thought it would,” G noted as he tossed the packets in to heat up. “Just over five weeks; that's quick work to manage to sour the whole world on your revolution.”

 

“Yes it is,” J agreed. “They haven't quite managed to sour everyone yet but they've sure killed the initial enthusiasm they were greeted with.”

 

“J, how much time do we have?” G suddenly asked in a dead serious voice that would not accept any dodges or pretenses not to understand the question.

 

“The slippage is still constant. The best projections I've been able to make gives us a true safe margin of six more months. We would probably be safe at eight but that's a risk I don't want to take if we can avoid it.”

 

“You haven't told Zechs yet have you?”

 

“What, that it seems time flows faster here than there? No. And I don't plan to either until I can't get out of it. We're off sync by nine point two one days now. It's more than enough for Zechs to notice if we're at all careless about time references. So don't be, hear me? We're gaining real ground on repairing their suits and they've not been cooped up as long there as it would have been here. This is win/win and I want it to stay that way!”

 

“Well, yes, I understand that!” G snapped. “But is it safe to leave them there? What will that time difference do to them when they get back?”

 

J sighed. “If you want some absolute answer, get hold of God because I don't have any. You've seen the same data I have. It says they should come back having aged only at the rate of the universe they were in. So they'll always be a few weeks younger than they should be but that should be the extent of the effects of a short visit like this. If we were talking years, I'd worry.”

 

“You don't worry enough!”

 

“Give me an alternative with a reasonable chance of success and I'll call them back today. If you can't, then tell me what you think we should be doing about something we can't do anything about!”

 

The pragmatic demand left G with no arguments to hand. The soft `bing' of the heater broke his concentration, reminding him the initial reason for coming here was food, not to fight with J. Besides, if he was going to be honest with himself, and lying to one's self was fairly stupid, he'd just admit J was right again. He really shouldn't start these things when he didn't have an answer.

 

He fished the two now-warm meal packets out of the unit and slid them onto the table. In an unusual demonstration of domesticity, J pulled the utensils out of the drawer and snagged a pair of cool water bottles out of the refrigerator. So much for setting the table. They ate in somewhat disgruntled silence.

 

How long that might have lasted was anyone's guess. They'd once managed to work together while being completely pissed off at each other for five months; a period that hadn't done much to speed work on the Tall Geese as G recalled ruefully. So simple irritation could last nigh on to forever if they worked at it. He was considering just how idiotic he really wanted to be when the only thing he was going to get from it was some mild stress relief when the alarm sounded from the portal machine's room.

 

Both of them jumped. And both took a quick breath as they recognized this alarm as the one tied to the recording system. They bolted for the old observation bubble together; something had come in on the aliens' news that bore directly on the Gundam team.

 

G still had both his own legs, it made him the faster of the two even in low gravity situations. He dived in the open hatch, recognizing the beginnings of a nasty fight as he focused on the screen. He recognized the trapped ships too. Most belonged to that moron of a Foreign Minister and the other was his luckless ZAFT escort. They'd been all over the other side's news lately. He reached the board and turned up the sound just as J whipped himself through the hatch.

 

“ . . . images are being broadcast from the Mendel Colony! The mainframe there is severely damaged and will occasionally send out images from the security system without any apparent provocation. These broadcasts are very irregular and no one has any control over them. Associated Networks will provide continuous coverage of the situation as long as the images continue to be sent out!”

 

The news anchor was clearly almost stunned, as they knew his audience had to be. This then was completely unexpected. The pictures were laying out the situation with a disjointed but surprising clarity. Associated Networks, as best G could recall, was an independent news collection and broadcasting group. They were not really based in any one nation although they seemed to have deep connections into both the North Atlantic Federation and the Aube Emirates. They were as close to an unbiased source as the two of them had found so far, which was why the reception station was generally tuned to their frequencies.

 

“Our chief commentator for space actions, Admiral Sims, is joining us live from London.” The anchor bowed slightly to a stern looking, white haired man with hard eyes and a look of cold fury on his face. “Admiral, will you please sum up the situation for our viewers?”

 

“The situation is very bad.” The Admiral had a clipped, quite old-fashioned English accent and he made an ugly situation look as grim as it was to even the most military-ignorant fool over there using tone and inflection alone. “The area the flotilla is trapped in can not be forced to the side to allow the ships to escape. There is simply too much dangerous debris there. They have no choice but to fight their way out, if they can. While it isn't clear who the enemy is yet, it is quite obvious the numbers are not on the defender's side here.”

 

The two of them watched in silence. There was nothing they could do about this fight. Indeed, given some of the comments the news anchor made, that erratic system might be broadcasting something many hours old. So they just listened to the commentary and watched one of the more vicious mobile suit battles they'd ever seen.

 

If they'd ever had any thoughts that there weren't significant differences between the ability levels of the normals, the so called Naturals, and the altered people known as Coordinators over there, this fight would have killed the illusion. Sixty or more of the Natural's mobile suits weren't quite managing to do the same level of harm to their enemy as the seven Coordinator's were. Superior equipment was part of it, obviously. The Coordinator's had two visible suits and one stealth unit out there that were doing tremendous damage. The four lesser units were being superbly handled as well. The Naturals were running on raw courage and excellent training, but they couldn't match the pure skill of the Coordinators. It was obvious now just how the much smaller Coordinator forces had managed to come so close to winning two wars with their vastly outnumbered forces.

 

G flinched as the screen flared to brilliant light with the cataclysmic final shots. “What complete imbecile came up with that plan?”

 

“Good question,” J growled, eyes narrowed as the screen began to fade back to something other than a wash of pulsing lights. “Whoever it was, I hope he just committed suicide there. That kind of idiocy doesn't deserve to live.”

 

“Maybe,” G noted grimly, “but someone made it. Looks like two of the attackers and maybe some of the mobile suits as well.”

 

“The three top-end Coordinator suits survived as well.” J eyed the situation and didn't like it. “I don't know if they're enough to take out what's left of their enemies though. The one suit is clearly damaged.”

 

“Have a question for you,” G suddenly grinned. “Does this look like it's completely random?”

 

J went quite still. “No. The coverage has been too good. We've seen the entire fight and . . . . , damn! The signal just cut out!”

 

“Or was turned off.”

 

“Lets see if we can get hold of Zechs.”

 

“Yes, I'd like to know what the final result was myself.”

 

The pair of them moved quickly but without the earlier urgency to the portal station in the mobile suit hanger. Their communications equipment for reaching the Gundam team was still in there along with the portal itself. Neither was surprised to see that the comm had been cut from the other side for over an hour. It had reopened only a few minutes before they'd gotten there.

 

Both old men breathed soft sighs of relief. The now open comm line meant the colony was still intact and at least some of their people were still alive. The lack of any emergency flashes suggested they probably were all fine.

 

J activated the comm and waited for someone to answer it. The line opened in seconds, Zechs face looking dead tired, gazed out at them. They both noticed all four of the girls behind him but none of the pilots. And everyone was suited up as well. They all had their helmets close to hand but there were marks on everyone's faces that said those helmets had been sealed until just a few minutes ago. So, it had been that touch and go had it?

 

“We've just been watching a news broadcast,” J said calmly. “Would anyone care to tell me how it ended?”

 

“Commander Yamato destroyed one of the surviving pirates,” Zechs said wearily. “They were intending to target the colony, to destroy it before they left.”

 

“Yuy got the other one then.” G made it a statement, not a question.

 

Zechs nodded. “Watch, I'll have Relena replay the end for you.”

 

The two of them just watched in silence as the two mobile suits moved and struck like a well-honed team instead of perfect strangers. Relena froze the screen with a truly beautiful image of the two winged units, weapons forward, guarding each other's backs. Yes, it was a spectacular picture, but it was also the end of their secrecy.

 

“Now what?” J asked for them both.

 

“Now, well now Quatre is opening negotiations with the Coordinators. We will have to meet and talk to them. I'm afraid none of the three of them missed just how much damage Wing Zero did. It's going to be a bit hard to explain away to the rescue forces racing back here too. Yuy's buster rifle does a completely different kind of damage from the indigenous beam weapons.” Zechs shook his head. “We're going to need their cooperation if we're going to have any chance of staying out of sight. And while I regret the deaths of some very brave people, I'm not sorry to only have to deal with one side of the local conflict. I just hope we can keep it that way.”

 

“Dr. J,” Dorothy interrupted, “before we get into these meetings, how much longer should we have to remain here? We need some figures for our discussions. Well, not so much for sharing as just for our own knowledge.”

 

“Unless the situation changes seriously, it will be at least two more weeks before the Epyon and the Wing are ready. You have been watching the news feeds we've been forwarding?” He asked more to make sure than because he was expecting anything but a `yes'.

 

At their nods, J continued. “Crimson Dawn has killed the first wave of enthusiasm they were greeted with. They've proven to be ruthless killers and that isn't going down so well as I believe they naively thought it would. From what they say in public and what Une has been able to discover of their private communications, they seem to have thought that mass slaughter of all associated with the `evil and corrupt' ESUN would be approved. Just why some of them were that stupid when they included whole families in their indiscriminate butchery is beyond me but they do seem surprised. The Sun isn't that stupid, internal memos the Preventer's have managed to get hold of suggest he's trying to get the rest of them to back off on their `cleansing' but he isn't as powerful internally as it appears from the outside. He hasn't been able to do much more than slow it down a bit.”

 

“Unfortunately,” G put in, “it doesn't look like they've quite managed to make themselves unpopular enough yet to turn people back to the Preventers in large numbers. Une's guessing that will take a minimum of a couple more months and at least one attack on someone other than those formally aligned with the old government.”

 

“What's your situation?” Zechs asked bluntly.

 

“Fairly good at the moment,” G replied. “They haven't had a chance to do more than basic repairs of the local Preventer station so we're still not getting the kind of scanning coverage we were worried about. The team that took the place was apparently fairly well shot up so they didn't do much patrolling either. The new team is more concerned with the Sweepers than it is with wreckage that hasn't changed signal levels in months so we're being mostly left alone. We did shut down and go completely dark the one time they sent a ship by. That was the one I told you about the other day. There's been nothing out our way since.”

 

“Zechs!” Relena called. “Quatre wants to know if you have any issues with bringing them straight in to the landing bay.”

 

The platinum blond just sighed. “No, trying to hide from those three now would be an exercise in futility. They know we're here and I have my doubts about how well we could evade them if they decided to seriously hunt. I would rather display trust and see if we can build on that. We'll be a great deal safer if we don't let them get any hostile ideas.”

 

“Who are you inviting in?” G asked, curiosity openly displayed for a change.

 

“Commanders Yamato and Joule and Joule's wingman.” Zechs turned, “Dorothy, what is that boy's name?”

 

“Dearka Elsman.”

 

“Right, Elsman,” Zechs shook his head. “Their names even sound so much like ours. It's rather disorienting sometimes.”

 

J looked up sharply. “Their names aren't Yzak Joule and Kira Yamato by any chance?”

 

Zechs straightened. “Yes.”

 

“Good! You should remember both of them from your studies of the last two wars. They're very highly placed in the PLANTs now. If you can cut a deal with them, they have the authority to actually help you.” J grinned, a rather feral look that didn't seem to make Merquise very happy. “I'd like one more of those n-jammer cancellers if you can get it. I don't know if anyone here is going to invent the equivalent of an n-jammer but I do know Crimson Dawn is working on something to stop a Gundam. Everything I can do to change our machines, to make them stronger in unexpected directions, I'm interested in it. If they want to discuss technology trades, we should consider them.”

 

“Why?” Mariemaia asked. “I'm sure we could learn a great deal here but why give our data away? They might not always be friends.”

 

“Child,” G gave her a narrow-eyed smile, “who controls the portal between worlds?”

 

Enlightenment widened her eyes. “Oh, of course! Once we're home, they can't follow us! So it won't really matter will it?”

 

“Not in our lifetimes,” J replied dryly.

 

“Heero says they're coming in now!” Noin suddenly called. “I think you may want to close this link before they get here. The issue of tech trades is something for the future after all. We have to agree to live and let live first.”

 

“Fine,” G agreed, hand going out to the board before J could stop him. “We'll see you later.”

 

The link broke as he turned it off. J gave him a scorching look. G simply smiled evilly at him.

 

“Oh grow up J,” he snorted. “I found the `view only' setting three weeks ago. Now bring it up and we can both watch this.”

 

J suddenly grinned back, just as evilly as G had. “All right, find a second chair.”

 

The two of them settled back after a few adjustments. J tapped into the cameras he'd had G spot around the landing bay. Within minutes of getting everything clear and sharp, Altron cycled through the lock. Rather to their surprise, Wu Fei set his Gundam in its bay and hopped out, still fully suited up. Then they understood. He was going to evacuate the air and let them all in at once.

 

Fifteen minutes later, the massive lock opened and seven more Gundams filed into the huge bay, dwarfing the space with their size and numbers. Both old men stared in shock as the image shook when the three native suits strode into the bay. Not only were all three taller than even Wing Zero by close to two meters or more, they had to be unbelievably massive to shake the walls of the bay like that just by walking! What were these things made of?

 

 

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