9 April 0187

My dearest Mirai,

By now, you may have heard that White Base has been declared overdue. That is only part of
the story, and I don't know when I'll be able to see you or the children again (or contact
you without being monitored by the Titans), hence this journal. This journal is also being
started in case it is needed as evidence in any proceedings the Admiralty may see fit to
convene against me. I can only pray that things will not progress to that point.

Our current situation is this: At 1917 hours on 8 April 0187, the White Base was attacked by
several flights of unknown mobile suits, which we now believe to have been affiliated with
the Zanscare Empire, a member state of the Greater Jovian Co-Prosperity Sphere. During the
action that followed, our escort of four GM-class mobile suits and four Lancer-class
aerospace fighters were destroyed. In the face of our losses, I issued a mayday call at 1929
hours. Five minutes later (1934 hrs.), AES Ahgama answered our distress call. Ahgama's mobile
suit complement then proceeded to rout the raiders, at the cost of engine damage when the
sole remaining raider executed a lightning-strike attack against Ahgama.

As White Base slowed to make repairs, I met with our rescuers and found them to be the
Anti-Earth Union Group. The people at the meeting aboard Ahgama comprised the senior
leadership of the AEUG: General Brex Forra, Henken Beckner (Ahgama's captain), and Ahgama's
MS company commander, a "'Major' Quattro Bajina", who I believe to be none other than former
Zeon Oberst Char Aznable. The meeting lasted approximately ten minutes and covered topics
ranging from the disposition of one Jay Denton (a civilian mecha pilot whom the AEUG had
rescued from a destroyed convoy) to the Titans' projected reaction to the incident at the
colony formerly known as Green Noah 2. One of Captain Beckner's remarks was especially
telling: "It's not like [the AEUG] stole a -GM-." General Forra then made a most unusual
offer: join the AEUG.

I did not respond to the offer right away. General Forra took it better than I had hoped,
even offering to let me think it over until the drives aboard White Base had been repaired.
At 2230 hours, however, the impromptu convoy was met by a reinforced MS platoon under the
command of Titans Lieutenant Emma Sheen. Lt. Sheen herself was carrying a sealed communique
from Colonel Bosque Ohm, demanding the return of the Gundam MkII and the surrender of the
person who had taken it, a Camille Vidan. The communique went on to state that failure to do
so would mean the deaths of Master Vidan's parents, who from all accounts were with the
Titans' SciTech Division. After Lt. Sheen had fervently professed no prior knowledge of the
nature of the communique, a small observation capsule with Lt. Hilda Vidan trapped inside was
spotted by Ahgama's bridge crew. During the course of a subsequent unauthorized rescue
mission undertaken by Messrs. Vidan and Denton, a Titan lying in wait machinegunned the
capsule before Vidan could retrieve it. Doubtlessly, Col. Ohm saw his own SciTech personnel
as expendable assets.

The lengths the Titans would go to in order to reclaim one mobile suit disgusted me, and one
needn't have been a Newtype to know it disgusted Lieutenant Sheen. I knew then that the
moment we had discussed at length -- the one eventuality I had prayed would never come to
pass -- had indeed come.

By accepting General Forra's offer, I have committed a willful act of treason against the
Earth Federation government. The Titans would have you believe my word means nothing, seeing
how I have conspired with the enemy.

But, in the end, the only thing anyone can truly betray is his or her own conscience.

***
"The conventional army loses if it does not win, the guerilla wins if he does not lose."
	-- Henry Kissinger

# Rush "Force Ten" _Hold Your Fire_

Rock And A Hard Place Productions
presents a Tale of the Super Robot Wars
written and directed by SliderDF ([email protected])
Story copyright 2002, Rock And A Hard Place Productions

Kage No Senshi -- Cycle 1: When Your Regular Deus Ex Machina Isn't Cutting It Anymore 

Phase 4: The Kid From Left Field (Fear The Reaper)
***

	Jay Denton was getting his head bitten off. It came as no surprise to him, as both he
and Camille Vidan had attempted their rescue mission without sanction from those in command,
but that didn't make this any easier to take.
	"Some people, and I can't say I blame them," Quattro Bajina said from his seat behind
the desk in his office, while pointing at Camille, "would have left you to the tender mercies
of the Titans." He then pointed to Jay. "And you would have been placed in the brig until we
dropped you off at Mao Industries. What you two did out there was insubordinate bordering on
-desertion.-"
	Quattro got up and walked around to the front of the desk. "Listen to me, CFB," he
said, using the acronym which stood for 'clear as a fucking bell.' Jay noted that ever since
this reaming started, the Major had not once raised his voice. "You two are -not- the only
ones fighting this war. This war was not tailor-made just for you."
	"Major," Camille said, "we were only trying to--"
	"I don't care what you were trying to do at this point! You may have thought only your
lives and the life of that hostage were on the line, but by pulling that stunt of yours, you
put every single person aboard this ship at risk. Around here, we follow orders, or people
die needlessly." He looked at Camille. "I expected this sort of behavior from you, as you are
a civilian and not even out of high school. But you," he continued as he looked at Jay, "have
been through a pilot training program. I expected you to have a clue."
	He sat back down. "Both of you are in hack for the next 48 hours. I would've preferred
a stiffer punishment, but I can't teach you anything while you're in the brig, and I have a
feeling we'll be needing every pilot we can get sooner rather than later. Bosque Ohm may be
psychotic, but he's not stupid. Grant him at least that much respect. Camille, report to
Astonage as soon as you leave. Now get out of my sight." Both young men turned to leave, but
Quattro spoke again. "Jay, you stay here."
	As the door shut behind Camille, Jay said, "Before you say anything, if I had it to do
all over again, I would have."
	"Truthfully?" Quattro asked.
	Jay nodded.
	"You know, you could have made the retrieval yourself, using your Huckevine's I-Fie--
forgive me, Gravity Wall to block any incoming fire."
	Jay would have retorted, but Quattro's analysis had the unfortunate quality of being
right. He regarded a seam in the deck plating, filled with his own self-loathing. Typical, he
thought. It always seems like I'm a day late or a credit short in just about everything. And
now, I got Camille's mom killed, all because of this stupid vendetta!
	Quattro regarded Jay's expression as the boy continued to berate himself internally.
Maybe he does have a clue after all, he thought. He can admit that he does make mistakes, and
that's the first step towards correcting them. No need to lay it on too thick. Like Camille,
he too can be salvaged. He stood up and continued, "There was no way you could have bypassed
the Luna Two Defense Corps without endangering Camille, and there was no way you could have
known about the ambush at the capsule. I know it sounds hard to believe, but there are such
things as 'circumstances beyond your control.' The only thing you can rely on one-hundred
percent is what you yourself can do. But if you two learn to work together, you'll have a
much better chance of getting through this alive.
	"Both you and Camille have your pride. The sort of pride that, if left untempered,
*will* get you killed. Just keep your wits around you, and you'll learn to recognize the no
win situations and avoid them altogether. I know the Training Simulation Module mentality: if
you don't do it yourself, it'll never get done. But learn to trust in your wingmen. You
should know by now," he added with a hint of a smile, "that we're not all scrubs here."
	"And what do I do in the meantime?" Jay asked.
	"Just go on and take your medicine. Nobody ever said life was fair. Camille's a little
slow; I don't mean he's stupid, he's a bright kid. But he's got a great deal of growing up to
do. Some of what we do around here might not make much sense at first, but do keep in mind
that there's a method to all the madness. Now head back to your quarters. You've got just
enough time to get cleaned up and finish eating before your Ready-5 shift starts."
	Jay paused at the door and turned to look back at the company commander. "You're
wondering if the rumors are true or not," Quattro said. The statement took Jay aback. Not so
much as what was said as it was the way it was said. It wasn't so much a question as much as
an acknowledgement of fact, like he already knew that the thought had crossed his mind. Jay
was just a little unnerved by that. "Yes," Quattro elaborated, "I know there's a rumor going
around that I'm really Char Aznable. But camp rumors are part and parcel of military life.
Always have been, always will be."
	"If they're not true," Jay asked, "then why do you let them circulate? Ceilidh Denton,
God rest her soul," he said, pronouncing his aunt's first name 'KAY-lee,' "may have raised
one fool, but it was not her nephew Jason."
	"That particular rumor is one I've found not to be detrimental to the chain of command.
Long before the Diaspora, in Central Europe, during a time known as the Thirty Years' War,
King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden often led cavalry patrols under an assumed name. Perhaps he
was possessed of that special mad bravery, or perhaps he knew he had to lead from the front
to earn the respect of his men. Or maybe he knew the military value of a reputation as the
toughest, hardest, meanest soldier in the whole Swedish army."

	"And so, we should be receiving both the stolen Gundam MkII and Mr. Vidan within the
hour," Emma Sheen said, summing up her report on the Alexandria's bridge. She had been
summoned there the second she landed, and was inwardly hoping that her little fiction
regarding the timing of the communique's receipt would be overlooked.
	Instead, Bosque Ohm surprised her. He said at length, "Emma, I don't like taking
hostages any more than you do. Let's approach things your way this time. I want you to go
back to the Ahgama to take delivery, and make sure they haven't sabotaged the Gundam or
worse."
	"With all due respect, sir, I'm not completely checked out on the inner workings of the
Gundam MkII."
	"I'm not sending you out there alone, Lieutenant. You'll have a technical expert with
you, and I've arranged for you to have both our remaining Gundam MkIIs at your disposal. Luna
Two Defense Wing 27 is your backup, should you need them."
	Before today, Emma would have asked if they could have just performed the inspection
out in space, under the protective umbrella of Alexandria's guns. As it stood, she said
nothing, but her posture betrayed her supposition that there was more to this trip than
simple mere retrieval of stolen property.
	Bosque picked up on that. "I also have something else for you to do while you're there.
You are to procure one of their Rick Dias-class mobile suits, through fair negotiations."
Before Emma could demur, he continued, "I have every confidence in your ability to carry this
mission out. And you're certainly smart enough to give -me- suggestions."
	Last chance to have everything above board, Emma thought. She was already sailing into
dangerous waters as it was. "Then I have one suggestion," she said. "I want Franklin Vidan
for the technical expert on this mission. There's nobody on this ship who knows the Gundam
MkII's design like Hauptmann Vidan. We've already shown we mean business, Colonel. Now we
need to show that we can keep our word."
	"Noted," Bosque replied, his expression as blank as a galley refrigerator's door. "In
this case, however, the flight risk outweighs any gains we could hope to make. Request
denied."
	Of course, Emma thought sourly while outwardly showing mild disappointment. And how
exactly -did- the flight risk get so high, Colonel Ohm?
	"Sir," Jerrid said as he braced to attention from where he had been lounging against
the bulkhead, "permission to accompany Lieutenant Sheen on this mission?"
	"On what grounds?" Bosque asked.
	"The chance to redeem myself, vindicate my lost honor, sir."
	"'Vindicate your lost honor'? War is not all honor, glory, and afterglow, Lieutenant
Messa. Ask me again when you've actually accomplished something." He turned toward Emma.
"Anything else you wish to add, Lieutenant Sheen?"
	Emma shook her head.
	"Very well. You leave in twenty mikes."

	"Hey, Camille," Jim Raynor said as he floated up to where Camille was working on his
Gundam MkII. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
	"Don't tell me," Camille replied harshly, "Quattro the Major sent you here to take
another bloody strip off me?"
	"Actually, I'm here of my own accord. But if you keep that crap up, the only thing that
will get to the brig faster than you will be the headlights of the ambulance cart you're on."
	Camille set down the scrub brush, and turned to face Raynor. He didn't like being
yelled at, but men like Quattro Bajina and Jim Raynor were the sort who commanded attention
without having to raise their voices.
	"In case you didn't realize it," Raynor continued, holding his thumb and forefinger
perhaps a centimeter apart, "you came this close to ending up in a holding cell aboard the
Alexandria."
	"The Major already told me that."
	"Good. I don't know if this has sunk in yet for you, but life as you knew it back home
has ended. This is a ship of war, and the bullshit tolerance around here just took a steep
nosedive. We can't have people that can't or won't pull their weight on board. And believe
me, it's better that you hear this from me than from the Captain."
	"Like I wanted to be here in the first place," Camille murmured.
	Jim clenched his fist at his side to keep himself from unloading a backhand into
Camille's face. "I don't know what your damage is, buddy, but you'd better get it squared
away real fast. You might not have wanted this situation, but here it is. If it were up to
me, I'd still be an Outworld Marshal. It's not a perfect world out there, and we don't get
exactly what we want. Better get used to it."
	"So what do I do if I decide to stay here? Become a pilot just to sate everybody's
curiosity?"
	"Look, there's not a whole lot of people that can do what you do out there. But you got
to want to do it for yourself."
	Camille looked away, picking out a spot on the howdah's decking. "Still, if I went
ahead and joined the AEUG, it'd be like admitting that everything I've ever been taught to
believe in was all just one big lie."
	Jim nodded understandingly. "And what exactly were those things?"
	"Duty, honor, country, that sort of thing."
	"Duty's a part of life. No matter what we do in life, we all have a duty to someone or
something, even if it is just ourselves. And I've learned that you don't need a badge on your
arm to have honor. As for country, I believe the army exists to defend -all- of Earth's
people, not just those who happen to be standing on the planet. The people we're up against
forgot that a long time ago.
	"Besides, this line of work does have its advantages," Raynor continued. "Freedom of
conscience, for one thing. Take a look at these." He showed the posters he took off the White
Base's bulletin board to Camille, whose eyes widened at the strings of phrases -- "WANTED IN
ANY CONDITION", "Camille [NMN] Vidan", "ARMED AND DANGEROUS". A part of him noted with some
detachment that they had airbrushed the bruises out of his face from the photo they had taken
of him at his booking.
	"You're in such deep shit as it is," said Raynor flatly, "the only way it could
possibly get any deeper is if the Almighty Himself were to hold you personally responsible
for the crucifixion of Christ." He leaned back against the railing, steadying himself with
his hands. "The only thing that matters right now is what you -choose- to do. I know it's not
something the Federation government particularly encourages in this day and age, and you've
paid a terrible price for something that could get you killed, but it's all yours now. Yours
to do whatever you want with it. Find your own path, make your own decisions. And if you know
in your heart that you are right, sometimes that's all you need. Even when it seems like the
whole world is against you."
	"But is... all this really the right thing to do?" Camille asked.
	"In my experience, the kind of people who actually stop to ask and then answer those
questions usually end up doing the right things. That's all. End of speech." Raynor turned
and left Camille to his thoughts.

	Franklin Vidan looked up from his perch on the detention cell bunk when he heard the
scuffle outside the door. The door opened, and in floated a battered security officer,
accompanied by a figure in a black pressure suit. The figure then proceeded to restrain the
unconscious guard with a cuff-strip before relieving him of his weapon and communicator.
	"I'm really sorry about your wife," Emma Sheen said as she raised her visor. She sat
down on the bunk opposite Franklin's and field-stripped the guard's pistol. "Would you be
willing to escape Alexandria with me?"
	Franklin asked, "You're going to the Yugoes-- I mean, the Ahgama, right?"
	Emma nodded once. "Yes," she said.
	"I'd rather take my chances with the Colonel."
	She made a great show of unzipping the pocket that held her ankle holster, which in
turn held her sidearm.
	"So," Franklin said. "It's your way or the hard way, then."
	Emma nodded without a trace of smugness.
	"Very well, Lieutenant. Lead on."

	Astonage Medosso turned at the sound of the door to his office opening. "What's on your
mind, Camille?" he asked the youth standing at the threshold.
	Camille swallowed before crossing over to the computer desk. For all of his flaws --
his social ineptitude, his repressed anger, and especially his immaturity -- he had inherited
his father's ability to notice the flaws in existing technologies, and improve upon them. And
even if his future on this ship was in doubt, there was still something he could do. "Uh, I
don't know how much longer I'll be here," he said, "but there's a drawing I have on my
computer account that I want you to have."
	"Well, let's see it."
	Camille punched a few keys, emailing the drawing to Astonage while at the same time
pulling it up. "It's only a concept drawing, but..." His voice trailed off.
	"No, that's all right. In fact, this drawing's pretty good." Both men regarded a
Gundamesque mobile suit, white with blue vambraces, pauldrons, and plastron. A shield, much
like the one on the Gundam MkII except for it being longer and tapering to a single point at
the end nearest the shoulder, hung on the left arm.
	"I took everything I liked about the Gundam MkII and the Rick Dias, put them together,
redid the armor, and added trans-atmospheric capability," Camille said. "I call this the Zeta
Gundam."
	"Tell you what," Astonage replied, contemplatively rubbing his chin as if to stroke a
beard he hadn't grown. "If you're still with us when the smoke clears, I'll let you borrow my
CAD deck anytime you want. It's not like I'll have time to use it, seeing as how I've got to
get acquainted with the Major's new toy." He chivvied Camille out of the chair, logged him
out, and logged in under his own account before pulling up a drawing of a different MS, this
one having about the same dimensions as the Zeta Gundam, but with no V-crest on the helm and
no shield. Long, thin twin tails extended from its back, and with the exception of the
plastron, the whole suit was predominantly a golden color.
	"My God," Jay Denton's voice carried from the doorway of the room, "it's C-3PO on PCP."
	"Jay!" Camille turned toward the door. "I thought you were in hack!"
	"Well, I am. They want me to stand an Alert-5 watch, is all." Jay indicated his marine
minder with a nod of his head. "May I have a couple of minutes?"
	"Negative," the marine answered. "Major Raynor would kill me if he found out."
	"Please," Jay said. "I just want to know what this is." He turned to Astonage. "What is
that?" he asked.
	"Besides C-3PO on PCP, this is the Major's new 'hyaku-shiki', or Type 100. One of the
first suits from Anaheim Electronics's Z Project." Sure enough, the kanji for '100' graced
both shoulder pauldrons. "The Radish dropped it off while you were sleeping, and we just now
finished the final assembly."
	Jay nodded, taking it all in. His minder, seeing the opening, steered Jay out of the
room. "Come on," he said, "we're running late."
	"Z Project?" Camille asked once Jay was out of the room.
	"Anaheim's efforts to produce the first post-Gundam mobile suits. They even ask for my
input from time to time. Who knows, maybe that concept of yours can become a reality."
	Camille allowed himself a smile that might hold real warmth in it again someday.

	"Time until the rendevous?" Bosque Ohm asked.
	"One hour," Jamican answered, clasping his hands behind his back.
	"Lt. Sheen should be back by the time our guests arrive, then." She had left aboard
Alexandria's Orca-class dropshuttle, the Atalanta, five minutes ago. "When this business is
done, I'll be heading back to Gripps aboard the Borneo. I want you to continue the pursuit
with both Alexandria and Bosnia. The AEUG must be crushed before they can aid the Zeons."
	"Affirmative, sir." The last thing they needed now were any surprises.
	Fate, it would seem, is not without a sense of irony.
	The bridge handset buzzed angrily. Jamican picked it up and listened intently, his face
darkening. "Very well," he said before hanging up. Turning to Bosque, he said, "That was
Hauptmann Richter in Security. It seems Lt. Messa found Chief Hughes in Lt. Sheen's quarters,
drugged. So, Richter checked the brig. Corporal Chen was found in a cell with a mild
concussion and no communicator. And Hauptmann Vidan is missing."
	Bosque's fists clenched around his seat's armrests as he followed the trail of facts to
their conclusion. "That sly little vixen," he muttered. Raising his voice, he cried,
"Scramble Hermes Wing immediately! I want her brought back. -Alive.-"
	He waited until the crew were about their tasks before saying in a tone so low that
only Jamican could hear, "At what point did 'my nation, right or wrong' turn into 'my nation
can go to hell if they do something I don't like'?"

	The partisan sat in a darkened mobile suit, listening through the various radio bands
while he was in go-to-ground mode. So far, it had been relatively quiet, except for a task
force of Titans ships that he was trying to get close to. He hadn't had much luck finding an
opening in their sensor net, but he was confident that he would. And then he would make those
oppressors pay for what they had done to the colonies.
	Just then, a transmission caught his attention. "Atalanta, this is Hermes Wing," a male
voice said. "You are instructed to return to base immediately. Should you fail to do so, we
will destroy your engines, and you will be -carried- back. Over."
	A quick look down at his lidar screen showed three MS-scale blips chasing a slightly
larger blip into a debris field, not more than 600 meters from his position, where he was
hiding inside the gutted shell of what once was a Komusai-class shuttle. As the dropshuttle
passed, he could make out Titans markings on it. "They're having trouble keeping their own
people in line?" the partisan mused to himself. "Wait until they get a load of me."
	That being said, he flicked a few switches, bringing the reactor back up to full power
and activating the jamming functions of his ECM suite. He whistled the first few bars of a
funeral march before bending over his controls.
	Time to seperate the wheat from the chaff.

	The emmissions officer frowned at his screen. "Hermes Wing, can you read me, over?" he
said frantically. He sighed and turned back towards Jamican Dannigan, who had the conn while
the Colonel was preparing to meet their guests. "We just lost contact with Hermes Wing, sir."
	"That's impossible," Jamican stated flatly. "How did it happen?"
	"They were just entering the debris field a couple of MSKs from our position when Lt.
Baro started raving about 'the reaper'. I haven't heard anything since."
	Jamican forced himself not to sigh explosively. Lt. Sheen would already have reached
Ahgama by the time Wing 27 caught up with her. And given their understrength status, they
would stand little chance against Ahgama's MS complement. "Send a nanny ship, with escorts,
to look for survivors," he said.

	Franklin noticed the dots on the lidar wink out one after the other. "What happened?"
he asked.
	"I don't know," Emma mused. "Somebody out there either liked us or didn't like the
Titans. And I'm not staying around to find out who it was. This Orca does have Titans
markings, after all."
	"Could it have been a Yug--er, AEUG patrol?"
	"Negative. I would have had something on the lidar if it was." Could somebody else be
out here? she thought.
	Any further ruminations on her part were cut short, however. "Unidentified dropshuttle
off my port bow," a voice over the radio said, "this is the AES Ahgama. Identify yourself
immediately. Over."

	"This is Titans dropshuttle Atalanta," Emma Sheen's voice said through Miguel Torres's
earbug, "returning with precious cargo."
	Torres immediately patched in the conversation to the bridge speakers. "Can you
elaborate, Atalanta?"
	"I have one MS on board, as well as a Titans prisoner. Requesting permission to land
and offload cargo."
	"Wait one." Torres put the transmission on hold and turned to look at Henken Beckner up
in the raised center seat. "Have Raynor take a team out to the shuttle and search it for
explosives," the captain said. "I don't want any surprises." Henken then turned to Brex
Forra, who had just come onto the bridge. "The Major was right," he said with a proud smile.
"She did come back."
	"Atalanta," Torres said, "come to within 500 meters of our position, heave to, and
standby to receieve boarders. Just a routine check."
	"Acknowledged, Ahgama. Atalanta out."
	Emma leaned back and let her head sink into the head rest with a relieved sigh. They
had made it.

	"Lieutenant," Jamican said in his office a while later, "I'm sure you've heard the news
by now. We've lost Hermes Wing, and Lieutenant Sheen has doubtlessly gone over to the enemy."
	"I know, sir," Jerrid Messa replied.
	"I've been speaking with the Colonel. With our recent losses, we're short of qualified
pilots for Unit 2. And you've been selected to pilot it."
	"Thank you, sir!" Jerrid said, fighting to keep the smile off his face.
	"Don't thank me yet, boy. The Colonel said to tell you this goes against his better
judgement, but you're the best of what we've got left. Do -not- make a fool out of me."
	"Sir!"

	"Hey, Other-Newtype," Roberto said as he floated over to where Jay was stationed,
waiting for some emergency that would require him to scramble back inside the hangar and get
to his PT.
	Jay turned a half-lidded glare on him until he saw the twinkle in Roberto's eyes that
told him he was only trying to pull his chain. "Yeah?" he replied.
	"Do you believe in miracles?"
	Jay nodded.
	"Good. Then come and see this one. The Major said it was all right, and I'll cover for
ya until you get back. It's in the hangar."
	Jay floated back into the hangar to see a dropshuttle with Titans markings being
lowered down on the elevator to the deck. Two people in black pressure suits floated down
from the control room. Crew compartments on dropshuttles were too large to be considered a
cockpit, and yet too small to be called a proper bridge. The taller of the two went over to
supervise the removal of another black Gundam MkII from the shuttle's cargo bay, while his
counterpart presented herself to the Major.
	As she removed her helmet, letting her dark brown hair fall loosely around her head
(which stopped at a point just above her pressure suit's collar), Jay's eyes widened. It was
the same woman who had come aboard earlier!
	"Lieutenant Sheen," Quattro said. "Forgive me for being cynical, but I have reason to
believe this... defection of yours is less than genuine. After all, Titans are selected from
the best and brightest of EarthForce."
	Emma nodded. Quattro took that as his invitation to continue: "That being said, what
was it that changed within the Titans -- or inside you -- that prompted this course of
action?"
	Emma was unfazed. "We must all live as our conscience dictates, Major," she replied
calmly. "What happened earlier tonight just wasn't right."
	"Still a Titan, through and through?" Jim Raynor asked.
	"No, Major Raynor. Not after this night. If things had continued the way they have
been, I would've woken up one morning, looked at myself in the mirror, and not liked the
woman staring back at me."
	"She's got a point," Camille said. He had seen the occupants of the dropshuttle
disembark, and thought he knew who the black pressure-suited man was from the way he moved.
He didn't want to believe it at first, but now that he had gotten a better look, he didn't
dare disbelieve it. At length, the words he never thought he'd say about a Titan came out.
"Emma's a nice person."
	It started with a little raising of the corners of her mouth, and Emma kept enough
control to keep those corners from rising further, but the little smile that got out went all
the way to her eyes.
	"And this must be the Hauptmann Vidan I've heard so much about," Quattro said,
diplomatically calling attention to Emma's travelling companion, who had doffed his helmet,
revealing a shock of carefully-cut and combed dark blond hair. He had excused himself from
the gathering as soon as the dropshuttle arrived, and was now stroking the Huckevine MkII's
leg like one might the neck of a horse. "An authentic Personal Trooper," he said.
"Magnificent."
	Jay might have taken it as a compliment to his taste, but this new arrival was busy
looking over the arrayed mechs and making noises like he was going to hump his Huckevine's
leg at any minute. He remembered something Ilm Kazahara had told him, when he first came to
the Mao Industries training campus and saw the rows of gleaming Geshpensts up close: "It's
the people whose breath -isn't- taken away by this sight that worry me."
	Nevertheless, there was a certain wrongness about this man's approach. Camille, who was
standing next to Jay, muttered, "Was he even aware of the danger he was in?"
	Maybe, Jay further reflected, it had something to do with the fact that he had gone
straight to the flight line, never asking about his son, who had been fighting for his life.
Another man with his priorities out of whack. Oh well, these things either work out or they
don't.
	"Dad!" Camille said sharply, springing briskly over to his father. When he got there,
he said in a more subdued tone, "Dad.... Mom's dead."
	"I know," the elder Vidan replied sadly. He raised his hands, as if to take Camille by
the shoulders, but stopped short of actually doing it, letting them drop to his sides. "Why'd
she have to die?"
	"I don't know! All I did was try to save her." Camille let out a mirthless laugh. "I
guess now your affair with Margarita can be more open."
	Franklin answered with a thunderous slap that rocked Camille's head back. "I will not
be spoken to in that tone of voice! Do you understand, young man?"
	As he watched this, Quattro noted to himself that if these two men were anything but
father and son, Jim Raynor would have had to break up a brawl on the flight deck. Even though
the two Vidan men looked nothing like each other, they were possessed of the same volcanic
temper.
	"It's true, isn't it?!" Camille shouted, anger masking his fear. "Face the facts, Dad:
you and Mom were -hostages!- If you want those responsible for her death, the only place you
need to look is on the bridge of the Alexandria!"
	"Are you trying to tell me Colonel Ohm is responsible for this?"
	Camille smartly nodded once as he rubbed his cheek from where it was slapped.
	"I know it's a lot to digest, Hauptmann," Quattro said. "Just take your time. However,
I think that the rest of these proceedings are best held in a properly secured debriefing
room."
	As Quattro led Camille's father to the Ahgama's wardroom, Jay came up to Camille.
Before he could say anything, Camille said, "I don't want to talk about this, Jay."
	Jay would have pressed the issue, but one look at Camille's eyes told him there was no
percentage in that. "All right." He patted Camille's shoulder. "You know where I am if you
need me."
	Camille nodded weakly.
	Jay sighed as he turned and walked away. I think he just broke my record for Most
Tragedy In The Shortest Time, he thought.

	"The apparent defection of Lieutenant Sheen has put the Titans off balance," Quattro
summed up in the Ahgama's wardroom a few minutes later, after debriefing the new arrivals.
"Now they have no hostages, and only one Gundam MkII. And even with Radish and Mont Blanc in
our task force, they think we wouldn't dare attack them in the state we're in." The two
Salamis-class cruisers (with the former still bearing the name EFC Sachiwaru on its keel
plate) had linked up with Ahgama and White Base, bringing the AEUG task force to four ships.
That brought the total of Salamis cruisers on either side to two apiece, but a destroyer like
Alexandria was more than a match for two wounded carriers. And that estimate didn't account
for the evacuees from Green Noah 2.
	Henken Beckner nodded. "Mmmm. Standard operating procedure for the Titans in this
situation would have been to RTB after taking the Gundam."
	"Which is why you think now would be the perfect time to attack," Bright Noah said.
	"Yes," Quattro said with a sly smile. "Let's use one of the Gundams in the attack. We
did promise them a delivery. I'd hate to be proven a liar."
	"Funny you should mention that," Reccoa said after setting the last drink she was
passing out on the table. "Astonage's already repainting the Gundam MkII we're keeping." At
Brex Forra's questioning look, she raised a finger and said, "You weren't going to keep the
Titans' colors on it forever, were you?"
	Brex chuckled. "Then it's settled. We'll divide the evacuees between White Base and
Radish. I'll transfer my flag to Radish, and Henken can take command of White Base. Captain
Noah will conduct the attack from Ahgama. Don't be surprised, Captain. This mission requires
a battle-tested officer, and I won't have a mere commander in Ahgama's center seat. That
would be unseemly."
	"Very well," Bright said. "Major, in thirty minutes, I want a magnum launch -- all
fightercraft up. Ahgama and Mont Blanc will follow the strike to provide support while Radish
and White Base make good their escape."
	"Yes, sir," Quattro answered. "I'm still having trouble believing that Lieutenant
Sheen's defection is genuine. She still has family on Earth, and the Titans have shown that
they're quite willing to use family to get to any one of us."
	Brex nodded. "The kind of people who'd raise a daughter to turn out like her generally
aren't in the habit of lying to themselves, Major."
	"I'm aware of that, General. I just want to make sure -she- is, as well. Speaking of
which, Captain, do you have any family back on Earth?"
	"My wife and two children, yes. They'll be all right, though; I've already broached the
subject of the AEUG with my wife, and she's a sort of Newtype."
	"Really?"
	Bright nodded. "You might know her better by her maiden name: Mirai Yashima. She was
helmswoman on White Base throughout the War."
	"And your two children wouldn't by any chance be a boy and a girl, with the boy being
the eldest, would they?" Quattro asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
	Bright's eyes narrowed. "The AEUG's intelligence network has gotten very good."
	"Not so much that as it just seemed right for somebody like you. You're of a type,
Captain; the kind the EFN puts on recruitment posters for naval officer programs, even before
the One Year War."
	"Well," Bright chuckled. He took a breath before continuing earnestly, "I didn't get to
where I am today through charming good looks and an electric personality. You know that as
well as I do."

	"What in the blue hell do you think you're doing?!" Franklin Vidan shouted at the
technicians disecting Gundam MkII Unit 1 for reverse-engineering. "You're supposed to take
all the insulation off -before- removing the balancer!"
	"Aren't you being a little hard on them?" Rafael Esquivel asked from his post behind
Franklin's right shoulder.
	He craned his head around to look Rafe in the eye. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're
supposed to apply your intelligence and go with your gut in this line of work! And, begging
your pardon, some of this crew seem to have all the intelligence of a split pea."
	"You heard the man," Rafe called out. "Get that insulation off!" This guy may be a pain
in the ass, he thought, but he designed this thing. What's this pendejo gonna complain about
next?
	As soon as the thought crossed Rafe's mind, Franklin continued with what, on his
planet, was hands-on instruction: "Careful with that laser torch!" He floated over to the
tech working on a foot actuator. "The frame in that area is highly conductive of heat! Here,
let me show you." He grabbed the laser torch out of the tech's hand and set to work on the
foot actuator.
	"I know it's nothing like you're used to," Astonage said as he floated over from where
the other crew was putting the finishing touches on Gundam MkII Unit 3's brand new white
thermocoat, "but please try and understand the situation we're all in."
	"Oh, I do, believe me." He turned around and jabbed the laser torch into Astonage's
midsection. "Weapons down or he's dead!"
	"If this is your idea of a joke, Hauptmann..."
	"Do you see me laughing? In fact, I think I'd like the technician's course on the Rick
Dias. Now move!" He began to frogmarch Astonage towards the personnel airlock leading to the
catapult where Quattro's Rick Dias was. "Anybody does anything stupid," Franklin shouted,
"and you can kiss your chief's ass goodbye!"

	Cortana was restless again. Although most AIs were based on a human mind, they had no
need to sleep or dream. She had been originally conceived as an intelligence-gathering AI,
which meant she had all the latest icebreakers the minds at the Earth Federation Office of
Naval Intelligence's CyberIntel Division could come up with, as well as the will to use them.
She would have never been assigned to a PT if it wasn't for one flaw in her character: she
got bored easily. Back then, when she got bored, ONI and Divine Crusaders sysadmins alike
reached for the antacids, for their security systems usually got reamed good and proper. 
	These days, Cortana amused herself by people-watching, using the feeds from Ahgama's
security cameras. It was how she had learned to hack, just a couple of days after her
birth/incept date. Going into a particular system, gaining root access, and just watching;
taking nothing but readings, leaving no traces, killing nothing but time. She was itching to
test out exactly how much freedom she'd have, but there were certain qualities that could
only be measured by seeing people in action.
	Well, she thought to herself, it certainly beats electric sheep.
	The feed from the hangar caught her attention, as two techs detached themselves from
the disassembly and walked toward the hangar. She zoomed in to see who they were...

	The phone in Jim Raynor's office rang. He grabbed it from where he was working on some
paperwork, and answered, "This is Jimmy."
	"Listen carefully, Major Raynor," a smooth female contralto voice said. "You have a
hostage situation in the hangar. Hauptmann Vidan is making a break for it. Recommend you get
a team down there on the double."
	"You have got to be Cortana," he said as he punched up the hangar feed on his monitor.
"The Major told me about you, and besides, I know what every woman on this ship sounds like."
	"There's no time for that now! Please, Major, hurry!" The line went dead.
	Jim looked over at his monitor for a second, before dropping the phone and slapping the
intruder alert button located next to his terminal.

	"The hell?" Henken wondered as the intruder alarm sounded. He raced for the intercom,
picked it up, and listened to a summation of the situation. "Raynor, Torres, keep your
weapons tight! If he's going where I think he's going, he's gonna lead us right to the
Alexandria." Hanging up the handset, he called for the other Major, but he was already out of
the wardroom and running down the hall.
	The intercom light in the wardroom buzzed a few seconds later. "Beckner. Go."
	Quattro said, "Send Jay and Sleggar on the first pursuit launch. Ready Apolli and
Roberto on the second. I'll go too, if I can catch up."

	The intruder alert went off just as Franklin Vidan dogged the airlock hatch shut.
"Well," he said, "I was right about them having the intelligence of a split pea."
	"Somehow I don't think you want the technician's course," Astonage said as he put his
pressure suit's helmet on and sealed it.
	"Actually, I'll be taking the Rick Dias back with me," Franklin replied as he slid a
steel rod between the hatch coaming and the dogging wheel, jamming the door shut.
	"Have you lost your mind? You were a hostage, for chrissake!"
	"I know. And that's one of the things the Colonel owes me for. I figure providing them
with the AEUG's latest frontline suit will be a good start. After that, I can code my own
ticket in SciTech."
	"You selfish bast--" Astonage began.
	"I'd be a little more polite if I were you," Franklin said, tapping the torch against
Astonage's facebowl. "We both know I know how to use this."

	Back on his lookout watch, Jay finally saw what the blocks on either side of Ahgama
were used for, namely telescoping outwards and rotating around the ship's centerline axis,
providing the living spaces with artificial gravity. Lookout duty may have been boring as
watching paint dry, but it was something to do.
	He warbled, "Earth below us, drifting, falling, floating weightless..." He'd been
accused of having a tin ear and/or being tone deaf, but he still liked to sing when nobody
else could hear him.
	Cortana's voice suddenly broke in: "Can the arias, Jay, and get back to the Huckevine
immediately!"
	"What's going on?" he asked.
	"A bad case of Helsinki syndrome. Hurry!"
	He turned around and started to reel himself in by the umbilical attached to his
skinsuit.

	"It won't budge, sir," a marine at the airlock door said to Jim Raynor as they gathered
around it. "He's jammed it from the inside."
	"Then get that cat door open!" Raynor shouted. "Move!"
	As the sirens warned everybody not in a pressure suit to evacuate the area, Jim
muttered, "I knew I should've stayed in bed this mornin'." 

	"Well, go ahead," Franklin said as they stood on the howdah for the scarlet Rick Dias,
"get it open."
	Astonage punched in the code that opened the hatch to the cockpit in the head. As soon
as the hatch opened, Franklin said, "Thank you very much, but your services are no longer
required!" And with that, he gave Astonage a shove that carried him clear off the howdah into
open space.
	"DUTCHMAN! DUTCHMAN! DUTCHMAN!" shouted Astonage into his radio. It was one of the
nightmares of space travel: being adrift in space with no means of return to the ship, until
one's air supply or suit heat ran out. If somebody didn't rescue him sharpish, Astonage
Meddoso would literally become a Flying Dutchman.
	"Copy your Dutchman, Astonage," Lou Caesar replied, all business. "Just sit tight." He
keyed the all-call. "Dutchman! Dutchman! Flight Ops is declaring a Dutchman! Launch the ready
M-Pod!"

	[I'm thinking of a phrase,] Cortana sent as the scarlet Rick Dias took off. [Two words,
three syllables, rhymes with "clucking bell."]
	[How much longer do we got on the startup?] Jay asked.
	[15 seconds.]
	As Jay watched the relevant details of the most recent hostage situation (cadged from
various sources aboard Ahgama by Cortana), he came to a sudden, intuitive realization about
his quarry.
	Despite all the posturing, all the bluster, all the self-serving rhetoric, Franklin
Vidan was -afraid- of his boss.
	And why wouldn't he be? If he had been ordered aboard Alexandria under false pretenses
to be used as bait in a trap for his son, and had the knowledge of his extramarital affair
brought up when he confronted said boss over the death of his wife, then there was no telling
what lengths Bosque Ohm would go to -- or what depths he'd sink -- to get what he wanted.
	Morgan Denton had a name for such a phenomenon, and Jay knew it only because he had
asked his uncle about a particularly troublesome fugitive pursuit.
	The elder Denton had called it "the fear that gives men wings."
	He ski-jumped the Huckevine MkII off the catapult and hit his boosters, hoping his
speed was enough to catch this twit. At length, he saw the Core Booster coming up on his
left, waggling its wings. He shot a comm-line out to it. "I guess they don't select them for
horse sense," Sleggar Rowe observed. "I'll hook him, you clean him. Don't fry him, though --
we just got to delay him until the rest of the squadron comes up to join us."
	"Roger that," Jay replied. "Last thing I wanna do is orphan Camille the same day I met
him."

	As soon as the hangar repressurized, Quattro kicked off the hangar wall and hurtled
toward the Type 100. There was no time for a proper suit-donning. Nearby, Camille was being
restrained from hopping into the Gundam MkII by both Reccoa and Emma. "Major," he began, "I'm
really sorry for what my father has done."
	"It's all right," Quattro said as he floated by.
	"At least take me with you!"
	"But could you shoot your own father?" Quattro asked before he ducked inside the Type
100. He took off his sunglasses as he brought the reactor up. 
	Franklin Vidan, you're beginning to be more trouble than you're worth.

# Kenny Wayne Shepherd "In 2 Deep" _Live On_

	Franklin was pleasantly surprised by the handling characteristics of his purloined Rick
Dias. "Such responsiveness," he breathed. "And the acceleration--!" His gushing was
interrupted by twin spears of ruby-colored plasma crossing his field of vision from his left
hand side.
	"Don't be an idiot, Hauptmann," came Jay Denton's voice over the radio. "You have an
AEUG IFF transponder on your mech. The Titans would just as soon shoot you than look at
you." 
	"Hardly matters if I can hail them, doesn't it?" Franklin responded as he twisted
around, beam pistol at the ready.
	The Core Booster cut across his path for a moment, too fast to get a bead on. "Get
real," said Jay as he brought up his Huckevine's Subach. "There's no way you can outrun
either of us. No matter what you do, we've got the thrust advantage and the delta-vee to
catch you. You're making this much harder than it needs to be."
	Franklin fired, only to have the beam dissipate against a field that suddenly flared
into existence.
	"And nothing you've got can get through my Gravity Wall," said Jay matter-of-factly.
	There was only one thing Franklin Vidan could do in this situation.
	He turned and hit his boosters, trying to get away.

	"Captain," Quattro said once he got his Type 100 situated on the catapult, "why don't
we move the strike up a little? We've already got four mechs up."
	Bright nodded. "Very well. Give us five minutes to get the evacuees off."
	"Yes, sir."
	As the Type 100 launched, Bright turned to his airboss. "Mr. Caesar, we're going to
press Atalanta into service for those evacuees. Get as many people that don't have pressure
suits aboard her for immediate transfer to White Base."
	"Aye aye, sir," Caesar said.

	Camille's face took on a determined expression as he dropped the grab bar leading to
the living sections and sprung off the deck with his legs, heading back the way he came.
	"Camille?" asked Emma as his flightpath took him over her head. She turned around and
asked, "What's going on?"
	"It's... I just can't forgive him for running off to a younger woman back on Green
Noah!"
	Emma gasped. She hadn't been with this outfit long, but she could figure out who he was
talking about. "I... I had no idea."
	"No, you didn't," Camille retorted over his shoulder. "You've got no appreciation for
just how quickly a home can be wrecked." And with that, he took hold of a grab bar heading
back towards the hangar.
	Emma was just about to call out to Camille again when Reccoa Rondo stopped her with a
raised hand. "He'll be all right," she said. "Just so long as he stays frosty." And with
that, Reccoa entered the airlock that seperated the hangar from the rest of the ship and
closed the hatch behind her.
	The general quarters alarm sounded, drowning out any thoughts Emma might have had.
"General quarters! All hands man your battle stations! Remaining pilots to the hangar on the
double! MAGNUM LAUNCH!"
	Unfortunately for Emma, her Gundam MkII was in pieces at the moment. And even if it
wasn't, Quattro probably wouldn't let her sortie anyway. For a moment, she wished the Titans
patch on her left arm was attached to the pressure suit by velcro so she could rip it off,
grind it under her heel, and kick it into some dark corner. It was just as well that the
device was part of the suit's outer layer; she was not normally given to such histrionics
anyway. She sighed and headed up to the bridge.

	Three other suits soon joined in the on-again, off-again chase, one of them a brilliant
gold in color. They soon linked up with Jay and Sleggar. "Taking the Heavy Threepio out for a
spin, Captain?" Jay asked.
	Quattro went on as if he hadn't heard the nickname. "Of course. Its accel curve is
comparable to that of the Gundam MkII."
	"I'll take the Rick Dias's more forgiving flight characteristics and heavier armor any
day," Apolli said.
	"You sure we need all this just to round up one MS?" Roberto asked.
	"We're moving up the timetable for the strike. Be careful, all of you. He's not the
pencil-pushing rear-echelon engineer we took him for, and this gold paint job will draw
fire."
	"Captain," answered Sleggar with a trace of a smile, "with all due respect, if I had
wanted 'careful', I'd have signed on with Colony Management."
	Jay tried to told a snicker in.
	"Settle down, all of you. This is where it's going to happen. Sleggar, you head him
off. Apolli, Roberto, you come in through the basement. Jay, you and I are going to see about
fixing his leaky roof. He just might get rained on if this continues."

	"I've got several contacts!" the emmissions officer aboard Alexandria said. "Unknown
configuration."
	"Do we have any flights out in that region?" Jamican asked. He knew for sure that their
guests didn't have any flights out there. It was all part of the arrangement for the
rendevous.
	"Negative, sir," the airboss answered.
	"Then those are bogeys," Jamican answered. He pointed to the airboss. "Flight ops, I
want your first MS wing up on the double; magnum launch! Advise the pilots to keep clear of
our fire lanes!" He indicated the weapons officer next. "Weps, I want all forward batteries
firing on that area in launch plus 30 seconds, saturation pattern Delta! EMCON, disperse
Minovsky particles, combat density!"

	Two yellow beams bracketed Franklin's Rick Dias, one on either side. "Not this again,"
he muttered as he whirled around again, only to find no targets waiting for him to shoot at
them.
	The beams returned, this time from directly below him. He readied the Rick Dias's
bazooka and sent a HEAT round at the two other Rick Diases coming from below, which caused
them to scatter.
	This, in turn, left him blissfully unaware of both Huckevine MkII and Type 100 coming
in from above until said Huckevine clamped onto him from behind and the Type 100 filled his
forward view. "Let me go, dammit!" he shouted.
	The AEUG icon spun slowly in his comms window, the way it did for a voice-only
transmission. "End of the line," said Quattro's voice over the speaker.
	Inside the Type 100, Quattro's eyes focused on infinity for a split-second. "Jay!" he
barked, pressing against the clinch just as the barrage from Alexandria arrived.

	Hanging on to an actively-struggling mobile suit was hard enough without a good grip.
But trying to do that with a suit that one didn't want to damage while evading a destroyer's
barrage coming from behind was nigh-impossible. Primarily because the real worry lay not in
the beam shot with Jay Denton's name on it, but the scores of beams simply labelled
"occupant".
	[I believe we found Alexandria,] Cortana sent. [Recommend immediate evasive act--]
	A beam caught the Huckevine MkII in the back of the right leg, causing the Gravity Wall
to flare brightly before it punched through. The beam etched an ugly scar across the calf and
started a reaction mass leak, which made the Huckevine lose its grip and involuntarily drift
away from its quarry.
	[Careful!] sent Cortana. [There's two of us in here, remember?]
	Franklin saw his opportunity and took it, kicking the Type 100 away and boosting clear
in the confusion.
	[Where did those come from?] Jay asked.
	[Scanning... I've got positive IDs on Alexandria, Bosnia... and there's a
Zanzibar-class cruiser in the area.]

	"What the devil is a Zanzibar-class cruiser doing out there?" Bright Noah asked as he
looked over the tactical plot.
	"Hard to say, sir," Torres answered. "The Minovsky screen came down like a damned
anvil. We're lucky to get -this- much."
	"Any sign that it might have been boarded?"
	"Negative, sir."
	"They should already be firing on that Zanzibar, then," Bright mused. "It would be too
far out of character for the Titans if they weren't."
	"Sir, the only fire I'm picking up from Alexandria or Bosnia is at our fightercraft."
	Bright didn't like this tactical picture one bit. The distinct lack of any fire on that
Zeon ship from the flagship of the Titans nagged at the back of his mind, but now was not the
time to explore that further. "Any sign of Borneo?" he asked.
	"Negative."
	"Mr. Saegusa, take us in and engage Alexandria at long range. Keep your eyes open, Mr.
Torres. Borneo could try to outflank us. Bring up our Minovsky screen, signal Mont Blanc to
follow us in, and signal Radish to cover our flanks. This is it, gentlemen."

	[That's a Zeon ship, isn't it?] Jay wondered over the L2 interface channel.
	[Yes, and the Minovsky screen just settled in.] Cortana rested her chin on her left
fist. [I think I've got enough of the Zanzibar's emmission signature to make an
identification. Analyzing...] Her icon glowed brighter as she ran her tests.
	After a few moments, Cortana dropped her hand back to her hip. [I've got an IFF
confirmation! That Zanzibar is the PZC Lili Marlene!]

	"Verdammt," Cima Garahau hissed. "They told us this area was secure!" She stomped back
to her center seat on the bridge of Lili Marlene, which was much better upholstered than most
(as it had a white tiger skin rug draped over it), and sat down in a huff.
	"No matter," she muttered as she crossed her legs. "By now, the landings at Australia
and South Atalia will have already begun." She raised her voice. "Helm, take us away from
this place."

	"Zanzibar cruiser disengaging," Torres reported.
	"Very well," Bright noted, his mind firmly focused on the battle, and the Titans ships
that could still pound his fleet into scrap. "Mr. Saegusa, evasive pattern Green 88. Keep up
the counterbattery fire on Alexandria."
	"Aye, sir."

	Never in his wildest dreams did Franklin Vidan believe that he would be actually flying
into battle. But now that he was in a battle, he could not imagine feeling more alive at any
previous point in his life. An electric thrill coursed through his soul -- after all, he had
not only escaped that loudmouthed punk who drove the Personal Trooper, but the Yugoes' own
vaunted Captain Bajina as well! This was better than sex, even with an incredible lay like
Margarita. For some strange reason, his mind called up a picture of her, her wavy red hair
spilling down her shoulders over her perfect breasts as she lay back upon the bed invitingly.
He resolved to have a celebratory night with her as soon as he got back to the Alexandria and
from there, home.
	Fortune favors the bold, he thought as a lustful smile creased his features, his mind
already savoring the treat to come.

# Staind "For You" _Break The Cycle_

	Camille turned and zapped a Hizack charging towards him with his beam rifle. The Hizack
drifted away, arcing electricity as he guided his Gundam MkII back into the fray. Where is
he? he inwardly wondered. Damn him, damn Margarita, damn this whole rotten situation to hell!
Please, God, let me find him...
	Just then, his targetting computer pinged, pointing out a scarlet Rick Dias, flying
straight and level.
	"God is very quick to respond these days, Hauptmann!" he radioed as he pounced on the
Rick Dias and tried to grapple it.
	"Camille?!" Franklin gasped as he kicked away the Gundam MkII and drew his beam pistol.
	The white MS lit its verniers to right itself before bringing its beam rifle to bear on
the Rick Dias. Both suits held that position, the model of a modern standoff.
	"So you're finally going to shoot your old man," Franklin radioed as Camille fought to
get his breathing under control and get his target reticle set on the Rick Dias.
	"Camille, what gives?" asked Jay softly as he brought his Huckevine MkII into the
vicinity of the standoff.
	"I never raised any son of mine to point a gun at his own father!" spat Franklin over
the radio link.
	You obtuse son of a--, thought Jay. Somewhere inside him, something finally gave way.
"That sad fact of life is the ONLY reason he hasn't pulled the trigger yet!" he interjected.
"Look, Frankie, your son is going through a difficult time in his life right now, and could
use just a little fucking compassion! And even -with- the fact that a Zeon ship was spotted
with Alexandria, you're -still- continuing this farce! A hundred thousand sperm, and -you-
were the fastest?!"
	Franklin glowered. Not even Hilda spoke to him this way, let alone Camille! "You're
wrong, buddy," he barked. "I don't have a son. Not anymore. Not after he went over to the
enemy."
	Cortana sighed. [That was... diplomatic of you,] she noted with some degree of sarcasm.
	[I'm trying, but this motherfucker's pushing all my hot buttons.] "Look," he said.
"Can't you see he still cares about you, especially when you don't deserve it? There is a way
out, away from that bastard Bosque Ohm! Get back to the Ahgama if you want to live, because
if you stay out here, somebody's going to put a beam into your ass."
	"Not an option, son," Franklin replied as he pumped the beam pistol's trigger. "None of
you understand -my- situation!"
	If I was your son, I wouldn't know who to shoot first, Jay thought as Camille danced
away from the steady barrage of beam shots before taking one on his shield, getting knocked
back several meters. You, or myself.
	"I've done everything I was supposed to do as a father!" Franklin raved. "And this is
the thanks I get?!" A not-entirely-stable grin creased his face. "To hell with the Gundam
MkII! I've already got my next mobile suit project in mind!"
	Jay's eyes narrowed. This had gone on long enough. [Target subsystem, Cortana,] he
sent, all business. [Right shoulder.]
	As the Huckevine MkII raised its Subach to fire, Franklin's further pulls of the
trigger were rewarded with an electronic raspberry. He had run the beam pistol's e-clip dry.
He frantically discarded it and was in the process of breaking out the bazooka when Camille
saw his opening and charged.
	Jay pulled his Subach back up to high port. Dammit, Camille! he thought darkly.
	Another shot came from over Camille's left shoulder, hitting center mass on the Rick
Dias. Electricity arced from smashed circuitry and reactor plasma leaked from the wound as
the Rick Dias began to drift. Camille had seen mobile suits go down before. He'd certainly
destroyed a few himself. But he had never seen a mobile suit go down from a shot that nobody
in the immediate vicinity had fired. He just sat there, dumbfounded, trying to parse the
situation his eyes were showing him.
	Jay, on the other hand, had seen this phenomenon before, and his practiced eye could
tell that the Rick Dias's wound was mortal. Come on, you fool, he thought, get out! You can't
save it!
	The Minovsky interference distorted the incoming radio transmission, but the tone and
cadence were one hundred percent of the man Jay had taken to calling "The Major": "Camille,
Jay, remember where you are. This is a battlefield. Hesitate, and you -will- be lost."
	Meanwhile, back at the Rick Dias wreck, the fact that it was doomed finally forced its
way into Franklin Vidan's brain. He had opened the hatch and was scrambling out, hoping to
get the survival bubble inflated and far enough away from the suit before the reactor let go.
	He almost made it.
	A jagged piece of metal the size of a serving tray impaled him through his midsection,
leaving the part that poked out red with blood. He drifted away, aspirating blood before
finally giving up the ghost fifteen seconds later.
	Camille pounded his fists hard against the VDU housing, his eyes clenched tightly shut
as if not seeing it could make it all have been some kind of bad dream. "You--" he cried.

	"Stupid asshole," Jay muttered. "What's left?"
	[Capricorn Wing are the six Marasais moving to intercept our squadron. Aquarius One is
the sole Gundam MkII that's not ours. There was a Pisces Wing, but they were Hizacks and got
taken out quickly.]
	While she was listing off targets, Cortana was curious as to who could have fired that
fatal beam shot. She took the angle that the shot had arrived at, and factored in the
relative positions of each of the mechs at the scene. She was only able to get an 36%
probability that the shooter was the Type 100, but it was the most likely choice.
	Cortana spent the next five processor cycles running this information through her
ethics subroutines, not comprehending what she had just seen. Why would he have shot into
that fight?
	Of course! That was the only way he could've saved Camille. He was obviously not
willing to fight his own father.
	Was Char Aznable a monster? Or was he doing what he needed to do to protect his own
people? Maybe a little of both. She paused to reflect a little on the deaths of Camille's
parents. It made for an intriguing study in contrasts; particularly the sometimes-subtle
difference between warfare and murder.
	There would be plenty of time to explore that further. For now, there was a battle. And
Jay Denton needed her.

	"Captain," Torres said. "The Mont Blanc."
	Bright brought up a close-up of the stricken Salamis cruiser on his personal viewer.
Through the lines caused by Minovsky interference, he could see explosions wrack the warship,
and on some decks, the telltale glows of fires burning out of control. A scratchy radio
transmission played through the bridge speakers: "Fight on --hgama, we'r- d-ne fo--!"
	Suddenly, the ion thrusters glowed brighter as the ship clawed through space on its
last legs, straight for the Titans' wall of battle.
	Bright hit his own comm button. "Captain Kitano, what are you doing? Mont Blanc, please
respond!"
	Bright's calls went unanswered as Mont Blanc hurtled unerringly toward Bosnia, fresh
explosions blossoming as the doomed warship picked up speed. Bosnia's gunners fired
frantically, hoping to avoid disaster, but there was simply too much mass to overcome. Mont
Blanc's battered prow struck Bosnia at the foot of her flying bridge, shearing through the
hull before both ships' reactors let go, tearing the eternal night with the sudden yet
momentary fury of newborn stars.

	An explosion lit the black behind Alexandria, and the emmissions officer frantically
plied his console controls to find out what it was.
	"Report!" rumbled Bosque Ohm.
	"Sir," the emmissions officer replied, his voice wavering, "we just lost the Bosnia."
	"Very well," Bosque said, giving the reply military courtesy demanded, "but what was
that explosion just now?"
	The emmissions officer punched a couple of keys. "The Borneo, sir. She's been
destroyed..." His voice trailed off into a whisper. "Oh no... it's the reaper!"
	"What?" Jamican asked as he peered over the officer's shoulder to look at the display.
Silhouetted by the dying embers of Borneo's runaway reactor, there floated a black
Gundamesque mobile suit with a smallish shield on its left vambrace, clutching what looked
for all the world like a beam -scythe-.

# Judas Priest "The Ripper" _Sad Wings Of Destiny_

	Duo Maxwell had found his opening at last.
	His first slash had ripped through the Borneo's bridge, killing everyone there before
his second slash to the conning tower's base caused a catastrophic backflash in the ship's
primary power conduit, which in turn overloaded the reactor and consumed the ship.
	The oppressors were certainly paying now, he thought as his lips pulled back from his
teeth in a shark's grin. And, unless he missed his guess, he had found the AEUG as well. Best
to kill two birds with one stone. It should be noted that killing the AEUG was the furthest
thing from his mind at the moment.
	As he hurtled toward the Alexandria, he opened an audio-only channel to it. Possibly
unwise, but it was too perfect a moment not to. "The shadow of Death has fallen upon you," he
said in a tone that a couple of months ago would have had him fearing for his sanity if he
had heard it coming from his mouth. "None shall see me and live!"

	"Is that a Gundam-class mobile suit?" Bright asked. "Can we confirm?"
	"The Minovsky interference is still too high to get a better look," Torres replied.
"And there's no match in our database."
	Bright forced himself to relax in his seat. He had seen Amuro deploy with a beam
javelin and/or a wrecking ball before, but a scythe... "It's like no other Gundam I've ever
seen," the captain said.

	[He's locked on to Alexandria,] Cortana noted. [Should I mark him as a friendly?]
	[Why not?] Jay answered with a laugh. [The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all!]
	[But would you let this one see your cousin Caitlin?] she replied with an impish grin.
	[Good memory.]
	[Only the best that money can buy.]

# Prodigy (with Pop Will Eat Itself) "Their Law" _Music For The Jilted Generation_

	The situation, Lyla Mirra Laila reflected, had quickly gone from bad to worse.
	First she had lost her home ship to those damned Yugoes, and now the Borneo had gone
down to a single mobile suit. She was having trouble picking it up on lidar, but the Mark I
eyeball was picking it up just fine.
	Isn't that like a colonial terrorist, she thought as she lowered her reticle over the
Gundam. Brings a scythe to a gunfight.
	The beams fractured as if they were broken water streams, the energy flowing over the
Deathscythe like water over a duck's back before dissipating into space, leaving the mobile
suit completely unharmed.
	Duo laughed. "You think you can stop me with just a -beam-?!"
	"Anti-beam coating!" Lyla gasped. She shook her head violently to clear it as she keyed
her all-call. "Fall back to the Alexandria!"

	By that time, Camille had snapped out of his grief-stricken reverie and was engaged in
squeezing off beam rifle shots at the advancing Marasais as fast as he could, while railing
at the top of his lungs against the manifold atrocities of the Titans. He soon ran through
every oath he could think of and started making brand new profanities, all the better to
express his feelings for them and their masters. The Gundam MkII wasn't being a particularly
difficult target, but the Marasais of Capricorn Wing were having trouble hitting him anyway.
Perhaps they were shocked by the sheer brutality of his attack, or maybe it was due to the
other AEUG mechs adding their fire to the barrage and spoiling the Titans' aim.
	The blossoming explosions of mobile suit reactors soon added to the fireworks display
lighting the void of space, as Marasai after Marasai went up.
	As he floated in his survival bubble, waiting for a nanny ship to pick him up after
having seen his Marasai wing systematically destroyed, one thought kept running through
Kirkricon Cacooler's head: "Oh no, not again."
	"Well, Amelia," he muttered, "looks like we'll have to wait a little while longer."

	Jerrid Messa looked over his display, frantically searching for one suit in particular.
"Where is he?" he muttered. With all the Minovsky interference and the flashes of gunfire
stealing his night vision, he had trouble finding his quarry. He was just about to turn
toward the main thrust of the assault when he heard an all-too-familiar voice over his radio.
Looking over, he saw a white mobile suit in the process of zapping the Marasais of Apollo
Wing.
	"New paint job," he noted as he squeezed off a shot from his beam rifle and dove in to
engage, "same old girly-boy driving it."

	"Jerrid?" Camille asked, barely getting his shield up in time to block the beam rifle
shot. He took a sharp breath as he surveyed the damage. That shot nearly blew my shield in
half! "I always knew the Titans were up to no good, but I never thought they'd -ally- with
the Zeeks!"
	Jerrid forced a laugh. "You don't know anything at all, do ya? You've been living on
borrowed time ever since Gripps 2! Now go to hell!"
	Camille brought his beam rifle up once again and tagged Jerrid's Gundam MkII in the
right hip. "Bad timing, fuckhead," he cried. "REALLY BAD!"

	"Blue Leader reports Titans fightercraft wings reduced to 20% effectiveness," Lou
Caesar reported. Blue Wing were orphans of the Mont Blanc, fighting alongside Ahgama's MS
complement.
	"Alexandria's still fighting, sir," Masanobu Saegusa reported from his weapons station.
	"Very well," replied Bright. Come on, Colonel, he thought. Surely even you can see that
your position is untenable...

	[Typical big-gun ship captain,] Cortana observed. [They've lost their MS complement,
but still think they can win the day. We should show them who they're dealing with.]
	It was easy enough to feel invincible inside the Huckevine MkII, Jay reflected,
especially with the Gravity Wall. But if the incident with the barrage at the start of this
engagement had taught him anything, it was that nothing could be further from the truth. One
solid hit from Alexandria's primary cannon batteries would be enough to reduce him to a pile
of scrap, Gravity Wall notwithstanding.
	He had joked back in high school that he liked anything fast enough to do something
stupid in. As he juked it through a missile spread, he figured the Huckevine MkII was more
than sufficient for the job. And charging into the teeth of a destroyer's guns was stupid
bordering on suicidal.
	But if one could get through the point defenses of a destroyer, then the bridge crew
were very much vulnerable. And with the Major and the Black Mech of Mystery picking off
turrets and keeping Dragon Lady occupied, Jay figured his chances of achieving this were
better than average. He blasted a point-defense turret mounted over the hangar door away as
he slipped between the two big turrets flanking the launch deck, getting into the dead zone
where they couldn't be turned to face him.

# (1:57 in music cue)

	"Pardon me," Jay said as he planted his left hand actuator below the klaster of
Alexandria's bridge windows, "but do you have any cheap yellow mustard?"
	He scanned the faces of each of the men and women on Alexandria's bridge, reading the
fear in their eyes. One direct hit with either the Subach PR-7 or the Chakram Shooter, and
they would drink vacuum.
	The Jay Denton that existed shortly after the Marathon went down would have had no
problem in sending them all to Hell. But there was the example of Emma Sheen to consider --
ordinary people doing what they felt would change the world for the better. Not everybody on
that bridge deserved to die for their leaders' fear and ignorance. "Which one of you...
people," Jay said, leaving off what he really wanted to say ("cum-guzzling unclefuckers") out
of deference to mixed company as he dropped his veneer of bonhomie, "is Bosque Ohm?"
	The goggled husky fellow in the red field cap replied, "I am Colonel Bosque Ohm. Whom
do I have the -honor- of addressing?"
	"Jay Denton. Sole survivor of the EMS Marathon, which was not officially destroyed by
people under your command. (They're unofficially very sorry, and they'll never do it again,
officially or otherwise.) Paramour to a passenger murdered aboard the Marathon, whose death
was, of course, unofficial. But then, you wouldn't officially know anything about that, would
you, you unscrupluous, sadistic, murdering jackass?! There, now you can convict me for
revealing official secrets! And I don't mean the fate of the Marathon!"
	He could already see Bosque turning a faint shade of purple. No need to leave the job
half done. "I want to kill you so badly I can hardly contain myself. But if getting through
your point defense was this easy, I figure I can take you any time I want. Think about -that-
the next time you're in some dark corner of colonized space.
	"Oh, and one last thing: Tell your pit bull Dannigan I will have my revenge, in this
life or the next."
	[That ought to do it,] Cortana sent. [Thanks very much, Jay.]
	"WEPS!" Bosque roared. "TAKE THAT OUT OF MY SKY!"

	The second Jay planted the Huckevine's hand below the bridge windows, Cortana sprung
into action. She piggybacked into Alexandria's system through the contact channel Jay had
made, and slipped into the hangar archives. Routing the queries through the dock for the
chief mechanic's personal Eyes-Only Pad, she downloaded the blueprints, schematics, and field
manuals for the Gundam MkII. While that download was progressing, she remembered how the
Titans were willing to take certain liberties with people's families.
	Therefore, certain precautions were necessary.
	Cortana then hitched a ride on a datastream leading to the CPU. There was just one last
thing to do, and if Bosque Ohm had any decency, it wouldn't even be noticeable at all. Then
again, she had little faith in human decency, especially from the Titans. A data sniffer
here, and a set of instructions there, and her work was done. She spent the rest of the time
she'd allotted herself for this exercise constructing and concealing a back-door into the
system. One never knows when it might come in handy.
	[That ought to do it,] she sent to Jay once she disconnected her terminal session.
[Thanks very much, Jay.] As she settled back into the groove of uptime aboard the Huckevine
MkII, a thought crossed her mind.
	It's -cool- to be an AI.

	Quattro swore in German as his bazooka round left a scorch mark on the Alexandria, but
failed to noticeably damage it. "That ship must have HEAT-resistant armor," he sent over the
AEUG command frequency. "I'm going to need my mega-launcher."
	"Copy that, Major," Lou Caesar replied. "Sending it out to you now."
	A largish gun pod, almost as long as the Core Booster, was moved out onto a catapult
and launched. As the Heavy Threepio caught it, it began to unfold in ways ordinary gun pods
do not. The barrel extended as handgrips on either side swung into position. A stirrup swung
down, which the golden mech put its left foot into. A shoulder yoke much like the ones on
WWII-era shipboard anti-aircraft guns extended as well, locking into place.
	Energy began to build in the charging coils as Quattro fought to keep his reticle
steady on Alexandria's flying bridge. After a moment, the golden pip at its center blinked
rapidly, and he pulled the trigger.
	A cerulean parabola several kilometers long leapt out from the barrel of the gun and
struck the aft part of the raised center section, narrowly missing the bridge windows. When
the massive bolt had faded, the only damage that could be seen were scorch marks and a large
crack in the armored hull's outer layer.
	"Verdammt," Quattro muttered. His eyes darted toward a mobile suit his targeting
computer had bracketed in red. And it doesn't look like my dance partner's about to wait
until this recharges, he thought ruefully as he disengaged the Heavy Threepio from the
launcher.

	Jerrid snap-rolled out of the way of a beam rifle shot. "You're not the only one who
knows some shit!" he shouted.
	Camille lined up a shot on the black Gundam MkII's cockpit, only to be rewarded with an
electronic blat of his own. Damn! he silently cursed. I used up the whole charge on those
Marasais! He hit his verniers as another beam shot by, and started fumbling for his bazooka.
Without even looking to see what type of round was in the chamber, he sighted and squeezed
the trigger. 
	Fifteen meters from Jerrid's Gundam, the shell shattered into several hundred
fragments, much like an oversized shotgun shell. The fragments flensed armor from the Gundam,
with a few going into the beam rifle, rendering it useless. Jerrid growled as he tossed it
away and broke out his beam saber. As if on some unseen cue, Camille drew his own beam saber
and charged Jerrid. The two suits streaked by, sabers clashing for several seconds before
they finished with their sabers at full extension, as if they had struck at the same time and
completed their follow-through.
	"I got you, bitch!" growled Jerrid.
	"So did I," Camille intoned in response.
	Camille had slashed while coming down from a high angle, so Jerrid's stroke had only
cut an ugly scar into his right leg, freezing the knee actuator and wrecking the verniers
located there. His answering stroke, on the other hand, was more telling. That one had caught
the black Gundam MkII just under its right armpit, severing power conduits and nicking the
reactor shielding.
	Jerrid's VDU told the whole story as the master alarm went off and his controls stopped
responding. He stared at it in much the same way as a gambler with all his chips in the pot
stares at a royal flush in spades in anybody's hand but his own. When he spoke, his voice was
quiet. "Power transfer failure?"
	Camille could scarcely believe it. He brought his Gundam around, saying "It's over for
you! Even when you've got the numbers, you still can't get it right."
	"You got me right where you want me," Jerrid spat. "Go on and kill me now!"
	Camille drew his beam saber and raised it for the fatal thrust. As he did so, he
thought of his dead mother, murdered in cold blood. The next thing he thought of surprised
him, because it was something Jay had told him the last time he and Jerrid had met.
	("Don't mind him. He's a joke. That's all he is.")
	If I do it now and end him, he thought, am I any better than -he- is?
	"What are you waiting for, chicken-shit?" Jerrid asked as his displays flickered in
time to his rapidly draining power reserves. "Christmas?"
	Camille drew his beam saber back in a stabbing motion, with his off hand on the pommel,
and Jerrid closed his eyes involuntarily. When the Titan opened his eyes again, he saw his
VirtuaCockpit display show the rich blue that had replaced static as a sign of no signal
since before the Diaspora. Numbly, he punched up a wireframe damage display on his VDU. The
black Gundam had been impaled, yes, but through the head as opposed to through the cockpit.
Just then, an AEUG icon began to rotate slowly in his comm window.
	"You're not -worth- killing!" And with that, Camille turned his Gundam toward the
fighting and flew away.
	Jerrid stared straight ahead, his expression seemingly unchanged from his earlier
shock, but inside it was as if somebody had stabbed him right in the heart.
	Next time, he silently vowed, we'll see who's worth killing. And if it's you that goes
down, I won't fucking hesitate, Girly-Boy.

	Lyla barely pulled her Galbaldy out of the way of the Deathscythe's shield, which had
suddenly sprouted blades and launched after her. That was too close!
	Those that flew with her spoke of her almost superhuman ability to evade incoming fire.
It was good enough to have a black-suited team of researchers come down to Luna Two one day,
only to find no Newtype potential in her whatsoever. The reality was that Lyla was a
practioner of iaido, and a serious student of the spiritual aspects of martial arts. Which,
in turn, had cultivated the extrasensory awareness of one's immediate surroundings that the
ancient samurai called zanshin.
	In her youth, she took a lot of ribbing for her Zen-like approach to MS combat, as
evidenced in her seemingly baffling advice to new pilots to reach out and feel an enemy's
hostile intent. None could say it didn't work for her, though -- she had 15 confirmed pirate
kills to her credit before this week.
	None of which seemed to amount to so much as a hill of beans against the AEUG, but the
fact that she had lasted this long spoke volumes about her prowess.

	"Is she reading his moves?" Jay wondered as the Galbaldy nimbly evaded another blast
from the golden suit's beam rifle.
	"I could calculate the probability of that, if you like," Cortana said.
	Jay shook his head. "Thank you, no." There has got to be -something- I could do to
help... wait a second. His crooked smile returned for the first time since the incident with
the capsule.
	"Why don't you read -this-, Dragon Lady?" he asked as he briefed his Chakram Shooter on
a mission and scrambled it.

	Lyla pulled back on the control sticks as a spinning disk on a cable shot right at her,
sawing clean through her beam rifle just forward of the trigger guard. Without thinking, she
kicked in her back thrusters, boosting straight up before the chakram could wind around her
suit. As she discarded the stub of her ruined beam rifle, one alarming thought ran through
her mind:
	His attack hadn't even disturbed her zanshin! Not one ripple!
	"Fine," she grunted as she centered herself. "Let's see if that trick yo-yo of yours
works in close!"
	She drew her beam saber and rushed in for the attack, only to have her saber blocked by
another beam saber, wielded by the golden MS. A man's voice broke in on her radio. "May I cut
in?" he asked.

	[They just don't give up, don't they?] asked Jay as the beam saber duel continued
behind him.
	[That crack in the central tower,] Cortana sent, indicating said crack in a zoom window
on the Huckevine MkII's VirtuaCockpit display with a hollow orange octagon. [Try aiming
there! I recommend your Chakram Shooter.]
	[Not like I'd use anything else. If that big gun couldn't seriously damage it, I -know-
the Subach doesn't have a chance.] Jay danced out of the way of a rolling burst from a
phalanx turret before letting the chakram fly, sending it unerringly into the crack left by
the mega-launcher.
	He couldn't have anticipated the explosion that bloomed forth from the crack after he
retracted the weapon. Alexandria began to list to port as fire and escaping atmosphere leaked
out like blood from an arterial wound.
	Jay regained control after being blown back several hundred meters by the force of the
explosion. The Gravity Wall had kicked in right when he needed it, keeping the Huckevine from
being nicely toasted or worse. "Whoa," he breathed.

	Bosque Ohm picked himself off of the deck where he had fallen. "Damage report!" he
barked.
	"Primary and secondary weapons controls are out! Primary sensors are out! We're sitting
ducks out here, sir!"
	Bosque's mind raced as he considered his options. Sure, he could go out in a blaze of
glory, but there was so much left unfinished. And there was little to be gained from a heroic
last stand under these circumstances.
	"Signal the retreat," he said through clenched teeth. The idea of running from a fight
with the Yugoes made him want to howl with rage, but there was little he could do half-blind
with his weapon systems offline.

	Jerrid pounded the bulkhead of the nanny ship with his fist as the flares announcing
the retreat went off. "Dammit!" he spat. I was so close to regaining my honor...
	"We'll get him next time," Kirkricon said.
	"Easy for you to say," muttered Jerrid in reply.

	"Red Leader to Ahgama," Quattro's voice said over the audio channel. "Alexandria is
disengaging."
	"Congratulations on your victory, pilots," Brex Forra said once the celebrations from
the bridge crews had died down.
	"With all due respect, sir," Bright replied over a tight-beam channel to Radish, "this
was no victory. All we did was accomplish our mission objectives. Too many people died for it
to be called a victory."
	Brex nodded sadly. "-One- death is too many."
	"Ahgama," the other black Gundam radioed, "this is Forseti One, requesting permission
to land."
	Torres looked up questioningly at Bright, who nodded with a bemused grin. "Roger,
Forseti One," he said as he turned back to his console. "You are cleared to enter our landing
pattern."
	"Copy that. Forseti One out." Duo sighed wistfully as he regarded the retreating speck
of the Titans' destroyer. "One black mark on an otherwise perfect record," he mused.

	"So this is that mystery Gundam," Astonage said, none the worse for having undergone an
unscheduled EVA. "Configuration looks a little weird, though."
	"I think this is the first Gundam I've ever seen fully optimized for close combat," Jay
noted as he looked up at it. "Doesn't even have a rifle."
	"It hardly matters if your ECM suite's good enough to let you get in close," the new
arrival said as he dismounted from his Gundam. He was about as tall as Camille, with large
dark blue eyes, a perpetually cheerful expression, and long brown hair (the likes of which
most women would gladly kill just to have) tied in a simple braid that extended down his
back. He wore a black shirt with a cleric collar and the sleeves rolled up past the elbows.
Black jodphurs and boots completed this ensemble.
	"You must be the pilot," Astonage said.
	The guy nodded. "Duo Maxwell," he said, introducing himself. "What do you think of the
Gundam Deathscythe?"
	"Quirky," Jay said. "Then again, I like quirky. Jay Denton."
	Just then, Raynor shouted something over towards the small knot of people, making
himself heard over the bustle of the hangar. "HEY, YOU!" He pointed to Duo. "CAPTAIN WANTS TO
SEE YOU ON THE BRIDGE IN FIFTEEN MIKES!"
	"OK!" Duo answered. "I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!"
	"I didn't know Anaheim made them like this," Astonage said.
	"That's because Anaheim -didn't- make this thing," Duo replied.
	"Really?" Astonage asked. "Then where am I supposed to get parts from?"
	"Oh, don't bother with that."
	"I -am- the chief mechanic on this ship. It's my job to bother with such things."
	"Careful!" Duo said as Astonage turned back to check maintenance readings on the
Deathscythe. "These self-destruct devices are twitchy things," he remarked with as much ease
as changing the subject at a dinner conversation.
	Astonage did a double take. "What?!"
	Duo shrugged. "I mean, you could go poking around in there and accidentally arm it. And
I'm the only one here who knows how to disarm it in case you do. Don't get me wrong, it's not
that I don't want any help working on my Gundam, I just don't want to see the hangar gutted
by the explosion if it does go off. It's standard equipment in order to avoid capture." He
patted Astonage's shoulder in a faintly patronizing manner as he walked off. "Don't take it
so hard, Chief. I'm used to doing my own tech work anyway."
	Astonage waited until Duo left the hangar before storming back to his office -- well,
as much as one can storm in microgravity, at any rate -- and firing off the Zeta Gundam
concept picture to his Z Project contact at Anaheim Electronics.
	"We'll just see which project gets the upper hand," he muttered as he sent the email.
He, for one, did not want to be servicing flying bombs anytime soon.

	Jamican Dannigan regarded the two people at attention in front of his office desk with
a steely glare. "Lieutenant Messa," he said, "80% of our MS complement has been destroyed.
You've had two suits shot out from under you in as many days. Disgraceful." He indicated the
other person with a wave of his hand. "At least Hauptmann Laila brought her suit back, which
is why we brought her aboard."
	The survivors from Bosnia had been made an offer from the Titans: join them at a rank
equivalent to their EFN/L2DC rank; but with regard to the chain of command in joint service
operations, benefits, and pay, be treated as the next higher grade. Few had refused. The
survivors, for the most part, had their own scores to settle with the AEUG.
	"Thank you, sir," Lyla replied. "However..."
	"Are you trying to come to Lieutenant Messa's defense?"
	"No, but with all due respect, Commander, I think we're overlooking something here."
	Jamican leaned back in his seat, resting his chin in one hand. "And what might that
be?"
	"Ahgama is built much the same way as the original White Base was," she said. "It only
-looks- defenseless. But once you get close, there's plenty of pop-up turrets, not to mention
a large MS capacity. Also, whoever drives their Gundam MkII fights in a very unorthodox
style. It's the same with the Huckevine MkII, and the other black Gundam is unorthodox by its
very nature."
	"Where are you going with this?" asked Jamican.
	"There could also be Newtypes among the Ahgama's MS complement."
	Jamican glowered as he sat back upright. "Don't be ridiculous, Hauptmann! Newtypes are
nothing more than an demagogue's pipe dream! I do not want to hear any more talk about
Newtypes. Am I clear on this?"
	Lyla's eyes narrowed, and it was all she could do to maintain her bearing and keep her
voice level. "Yes. Sir."

	Bosque Ohm sat in his wardroom, illuminated only by the desk lamp. He was a passionate
man, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it beneath the prescribed icy mien of self-
control. Part of what drew him to the Navy, and from there to the Titans, was the awe
battleship captains commanded (even though the heaviest ships were being incongrously called
"destroyers"), as well as the adrenaline rush when such firepower was directed at those
foolish enough to oppose them. He never gave much thought until this moment as to how heavily
he relied on that awe, nor how infuriated he got when the enemy refused to be intimidated by
it.
	He was not a man accustomed to fearing for his life. But when that EOT mech parked
itself outside his bridge, the adrenaline rush had been swept away to be replaced by a very
real fear. It had been several years since he felt that fear, except this time, there was no
pain that followed it. Only the shame of leaving a task unfinished, which cut worse than any
knife.
	Jay Denton and Camille Vidan were dead men. Oh yes. But it would have to wait until the
time was right, and in the meantime, since Denton had linked himself to Vidan, so must he
share in his punishment.
	The beginnings of an ugly little smile began to crease his features as he flipped up
his terminal screen and began to type out an information request. It was time to instruct
this Denton character in the finer points of loss and pain. And while he was at it, why not
punish Lieutenant Sheen for her insolence as well...

	The request travelled from Bosque's terminal to the central computer, and from there to
the Federation's public information database. The database was queried, and returned the
addresses for the households of both Morgan Denton and Elliott Sheen. That information was
then sent back to Alexandria, where it went into the central computer core. On its way there,
the data passed through a data sniffer, which recognized Morgan Denton's name.
	Which, in turn, tripped the logic bomb Cortana had installed in the ship's computer
core. First, all power to the terminals, lighting, and servers cut out. Sensing this, the
master server's uninterruptible power supply kicked in. That allowed the logic bomb to do the
rest of its work sight unseen, not only overwriting all Gundam MkII schematics and pilot
interface data files aboard Alexandria in Pig Latin, but expunging all collected public
records (which just happened to include the recent additions regarding the households of Mr.
& Mrs. Elliott Sheen and Mr. Morgan Denton) from the ship's network as well. It also embedded
a small virus that would change the street addresses on any further downloads of the same
information to those of well-known landmarks. Effectively, this meant that Elliott Sheen and
Morgan Denton respectively lived at Wrigley Field and Copernicus Peace Park as far as the
Titans' database was concerned. And when that was finished, it threw the entire server
cluster into thorough hardware diagnostics, ensuring that any further requests would have to
wait for CPU time.
	It was admittedly nothing more than a delaying tactic. By the time the Titans could
obtain the real addresses, Cortana would have plenty of time to implement the next stage of
her contingency plan. They may have gotten both of Camille's parents, but she didn't have to
stand for it.
	Aside from the altered and missing data, the only clue anyone aboard Alexandria had of
Cortana's machinations came in the form of an email that the bomb had been set up to deliver
fifteen minutes from the moment the power went out:

From: [email protected] (I'm everywhere!)
To: [email protected]
CC: [email protected]
Subject: I'm Jesus With A Photon Rifle (And You're All Going To Hell)

Next time, we get rough.


	The meeting on Ahgama's bridge passed by in a blur for Jay. He didn't know who this
"Wong Lee" character that Duo had mentioned was, but apparently the name manipulated more
than a few holograms for Brex Forra. The general had promptly arranged for a berth for Duo
before attending to the business of splitting off Ahgama from the task force.
	It was the second time he had ever heard the Major being called "Oberst". And if he
remembered correctly, Oberst was what the Zeeks called their colonels. Maybe there was
something to the rumors after all.
	For his part, the Major favored Duo with a plastic smile and tapped the Federation
field captain's collar tab on his vest with a finger.
	Jim Raynor leaned over to Jay and whispered, "Be glad he's on your side. I wouldn't
want him for an enemy."
	Jay closed his eyes and cursed silently. He let his thoughts get too loud again. "But
why all the secrecy?" he whispered back.
	"People change, Jay. Some merely want to forget their past." And with that, Raynor was
silent for the rest of the meeting.
	At length, the meeting had let out, and Jay couldn't help but note that Camille was
merely going through the motions of life aboard Ahgama. No doubt he was still reeling from
the shock of being disowned and orphaned all on the same day. On their way to the rec room,
Jay took some time to talk to Duo, and learned a few interesting things.
	First, Duo was actually 15, instead of 17 like Jay had first thought. Which put him
closer to Caitlin's own age of 14, but introducing Duo to her would have to wait for Jay to
get to know him better.
	Second, Duo used to be a nomad junker before finding the Deathscythe. Where he was from
exactly, he didn't say, but Jay figured he had plenty of time to find that out.
	The party soon installed themselves on the couches in the rec room and turned the
lights down low. "It wasn't anybody's fault," Reccoa said as she leaned closer to Camille.
"These things happen on a battlefield."
	"But still," Camille said, chewing the edge of his thumbnail absently, "I tried to
shoot my own father..."
	"I was fixing to blow off an arm before that shot came," Jay confessed. "Father or not,
I couldn't just sit there and watch him kill you."
	Quattro answered, "Even if none of you had shot him, somebody else would've at some
point. It's one of the oldest laws of the battlefield: anything you do can get you killed,
especially nothing."
	The door chime beeped. "Come in," Quattro said.
	Emma Sheen walked in and braced to attention, having changed out of her Titans uniform
into an ensemble of a sleeveless, high-necked blue-green tunic, with matching belt and tight
white trousers. Short gloves and high boots that matched the tunic completed the costume. The
overall effect prompted both Jay and Duo to spontaneously leap off the couches and give her a
heartfelt round of applause, with the latter adding a piercing wolf whistle that could be
heard three doors down.
	Emma had to smile demurely in the face of that, momentarily forgetting her bearing.
	"Looks like a perfect fit, Lieu-- err, Leftenant Sheen," Reccoa observed.
	"Thank you," Emma replied. "I'd like to be treated as another recruit, but with the
minders it's a little difficult."
	"Leave us," Quattro said to the marine that followed Emma in, who then did so.
	Emma then turned to the people who had stood up. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your
names...?"
	"Jay Denton," Jay said, for the moment wishing this wasn't the only civvie outfit he
had. "The undertaker over there is Duo Maxwell."
	"Don't let the outfit fool you," Duo quipped. "I'm really a nice guy."
	"Nice to meet you." She turned back toward Quattro. "Major, do you still think I'm a
spy after all this?"
	"As a matter of fact, yes. You do have family on Earth, and if the Titans were willing
to use his family as human shields," Quattro said while nodding his head towards Camille,
"then they could just as easily do the same to you."
	"I know," Emma said as she took a seat next to Camille, "and that's what brought me
here. Besides, I'm a grown woman, and my parents will tell you the same thing. When this is
all over, I believe they will be able to forgive me."
	"How nice for you," Camille noted.
	"Beg pardon?" Emma asked, momentarily taken aback by Camille's tone.
	"I meant that you had parents that actually acted like parents should. Nothing like
mine, anyway."
	"Camille!" Emma scolded.
	"That's a hell of a thing for you to say," Reccoa added.
	"Is it?" Camille spat, his expression a mix of equal parts sadness and anger. "My
father cheated on my mother for years! She knew all along, but rather than face it, she
ignored it altogether and buried herself in her work. And you're telling me it's wrong to say
such things about my family?! Is the military really that important?"
	As Camille buried his face in his hands, Jay got the distinct impression that Camille
would remember his parents with that same mix of sadness and anger for the rest of his life.
	"All I ever wanted was an honest-to-God -family-," Camille said as he looked up. "Was
that too much to ask for?"
	Duo leaned back in his seat. He himself had been through much worse, but seeing Camille
have to deal with this much loss for the first time stunned him.
	"Would it help," Jay asked, "if I said I was trying to save him too?"
	Camille said nothing.
	Quattro made an understanding noise. "Some people just don't want to be saved."
	"Still doesn't mean we can't try," Jay replied.
	Camille blinked at Jay. "I don't think anybody ever talked to my father the way you
did." He swallowed hard. "Thanks for trying," he muttered, almost as an afterthought.
	"'Salright. He was on a speeding rocket to Planet Dickhead," Jay said.
	"I know," Camille said, on the verge of tears. "But still..." He took a deep,
shuddering breath. "Ah, fuck it!" he cried as he bolted from the couch and ran out the door.
	Duo broke the silence that settled over the gathering. "So, he was raised by the family
dog, then?"
	Emma scowled. "Not funny, Duo."
	Duo let out a sigh. It was a feeble attempt at a joke, and he knew it. "My bad. I
figured raising parents was hard, but..."
	A brief chuckle soon rippled across the room. It may have been gallows humor, but in
the combat zone it was the only kind of humor to be found. And this was a situation where one
had to laugh or go mad. The chuckle dissipated as quickly as it had came, letting silence
reign over the gathering once more.
	Jay slowly stood up, feeling like he had lived several lifetimes over the past couple
of days. He ambled over to the beer vending machine. "This is turning into a regular wake,"
he said as he looked up an old friend of his by the name of Guinness, "and I, for one, have
been driven to drink." He turned his head back to the seated group. "You want anything?"
	"No, thank you," Quattro replied. "And I don't think you should indulge, either. You
just got back from a hard battle. With your body as low on fluids as it is, the alcohol will
go straight to your brain."
	"That's the general idea, Major. I'd like to forget this night ever took place."
	"We'll be coming up on the planetary defense grid soon. Astonage's installing a Feddie
IFF transponder right now, but I don't expect the subterfuge to last." He leaned down heavy
over the back of the couch, letting his elbows sink into the cushions, lost in thought.
First, the newly-minted Leftenant Sheen came around, and now this Duo kid comes to Ahgama,
seemingly out of left field. Not that he was one to complain about good fortune, but Quattro
Bajina had seen too many silver linings come with very dark clouds to blithely accept this
turn of events at face value. He knew that in his line of work, the best way to live to see
retirement age was to be careful and thorough. Yes, they would both merit further
observation.
	Jay hesitated at the beer machine's card reader before swiping his credit chit through
that of the soda machine instead, selecting a Dr. Pepper.
	"Come -on-, Jay," Duo said. "Surely you're old enough to make your own decisions."
	"Yeah," Jay replied as he popped the top on the zero-g drink can, "but I'm also old
enough to recognize good advice when I hear it." He took a pull, closing his mouth over the
spout and spraying soda into it. "He's right. It's not over yet."

	Duo flopped into the pilot's seat of the Deathscythe, taking a breather before plunging
into the avionics maintenance. The post-mission bull session may have wound down in the
fullness of time, but Duo wasn't quite ready to go to sleep just yet. There was still one
important matter to attend to, and it had to wait until most of the tech crew were busy
elsewhere. His fingers flew across the keypad, setting up an encrypted burst transmission for
sending his latest journal entry to the people he had found himself working for:
	"New entry, 9 April 0187. Have rendevoused with Ahgama. Char Aznable confirmed to be on
board. Continuing mission as planned."
	The reply came back a few minutes later on his Deathscythe's center screen: MESSAGE
RECEIVED AND ACKNOWLEDGED.

From: AES Ahgama
To: (suppressed -- FWD 04.09.187.0239 via x-process 4764.53425.46 (process owner Durandal))
SENT 04.09.0187.0235 via x-process 5473.89673.96 (process owner Cortana)

He said, "You will hear of wars and rumors of war..."

You were right. It's just beginning.

# Bad Religion "Sorrow" _The Process Of Belief_

TO BE CONTINUED...


Acknowledgements
----------------

To Banpresto and Sunrise, for creating the worlds the characters live in.

To Zhou Tai An and Mark Neidengard, for writing the FAQs that make this series easier to
produce for a gaijin who can't read hiragana or kanji.

To Josh Phillips, for using a name so engagingly exotic that I just had to... you know the
rest. (Jay: "And before you ask, Aunt Ceilidh's maiden name was not MacFarlane.")

To David Weber, for the use of a castaway's term.

To Jan Michael Aldeguer, sorry about all the crap that's been going down as of late.

This phase of Kage No Senshi is dedicated to the memory of Joe Strummer and the crew of the
space shuttle Columbia. "Do we have to come back?"

Embellishment List v. 1.04
--------------------------
The FREESPACE and RED FACTION series by Volition Inc.
STARLANCER by Digital Anvil
The MARATHON series and HALO: COMBAT EVOLVED (soon to be a series) by Bungie Studios
DEUS EX by Ion Storm
STARCRAFT by Blizzard Entertainment
MAX PAYNE by Remedy Entertainment
INTRON DEPOT by Masamune Shirow
SCUD: THE DISPOSABLE ASSASSIN by Rob Schrab
HALO: THE FALL OF REACH by Eric Nylund
The HONOR HARRINGTON series by David Weber
BABYLON 5 (TV)
SPACE: ABOVE AND BEYOND (TV)
THE MATRIX (movie)
CYBERPUNK 2.0.2.0., CYBERGENERATION and MEKTON ZETA by R. Taslorian Games
HEAVY GEAR and JOVIAN CHRONICLES by Dream Pod 9
SHADOWRUN by FASA Corporation
The RENEGADE LEGION series, originally by FASA Corporation

If anybody sold you a hardcopy of this work, they ripped you off. I'm not writing this fic
for monetary gain (it's freely available and distributable as long as the credits and
disclaimer remain intact), nor to challenge the copyrights on enough characters, likenesses,
and indicia to fill a major metropolitan area. Besides, I'm just this guy struggling to make
ends meet, you know?

Any faults with when and where certain characters fit into the general scheme of things can
be blamed solely on the author.

Jay Denton will return in "Rage Does Not Want To Die"