Episode III

Conspiracies Reviled

Prologue

Wufei

Sheshi knew the way, and lead me down into the bawls of Zen. We left Sally, confidant she was capable of piloting the Drop ship back to Gunn and swiftly joining the others in the battle. It was up to us to help Duo before it was too late.

I of course, cursed myself for letting Duo talk me into allowing him to take on the task of controlling the monster ship. But I understood his reasons. He had to regain his confidence. And a part of him had to prove his own humanity to himself.

Yet I knew it wouldn't work as he planned and was fully prepared to rescue him at all costs.

It pleased me he trusted me enough to do so. I didn't deserve it.

I would not fail Duo Maxwell. Not like in China .

Still there was always that off hope Duo would conquer the monster. And with all my heart, I wished him luck. Yet, my instinct told me something entirely different. I doubted his ability to control the FTL. Duo's will was to battered to fight anything. Alexie arranged it quiet effectively. Even if G designed Duo to conquer the beast, Duo needed the confidence to do it. Not blind luck and snap decisions.

Then again, Maxwell was the embodiment of blind luck and snap decisions.

I cursed silently, then looked over to the young red haired boy standing beside me. "So this mobile suit is FTL ready..."

The youth nodded, punching the elevator button. "Yes, as I explained, it is capable of going FTL and has a psycho-frame system. It amplifies natural Newtype abilities according to the files..."

I inhaled, recalling the data in my families' records. The Nu Gundam was an impressive machine. It was a great honor to pilot it. I just hoped Sheshi's natural abilities boasted though the system wouldn't overwhelm it.

Unless, it was necessary.

Secretly, I hopped it would bring out any of my dormant natural Newtype abilities. But I'd never admit to it.

Sheshi on the other hand smiled. "Mr.. Wufei, I assure you we want to avoid a system overload. It almost killed Amuro Rai when it happens and I don't want to see the same thing happen to you."

The boy had read my mind...

I felt a chill as the elevator door slid open to a dimly lit hallway. "If a system overload is the only thing that will help us save Duo ... " I said firmly. "Then I'll gladly sacrifice myself."

Strange, in China I wasn't willing to sacrifice my clan's honor in his name. Now, It was quite the contrary. I was willing to give up everything about my former life to help a friend.

And Sally.

I took a breath, regretting the possibility of never seeing her again in this life. Then returned my attention to the information at hand.

According to Sheshi, Amuro Rai was in a coma for months after his first encounter with the sensitive psycho frame system. But he managed to get some ample control over it later on. In fact, he had enough control to save his son.

At least, according to Sheshi's and Duo's recap of Andre and Amuro Rai's story.

I followed Sheshi out of the elevator reviewing the legend in my mind. Together, Amuro Rai and Char Aznable took on the FTL in their last major terrestrial conflict. One piloted the Nu Gundam, while the other locked in "union" with the machine's pilot, Andre Rai. It took both combat and psychic skill to defeat the FTL.

A part of me was looking forward to piloting the Nu. It was to be the greatest test of my skills. But I was frightened nonetheless. Despite my training and meditations, I wasn't prepared to face a psychic organic machine like the FTL.

Was Maxwell rubbing off on me with his stupid, misguided sudden decisions?

Or was I trying to make amends for when I allowed Xang to control me enough that I wounded one of my closest allies?

I bit my lip tasting salty blood.

From the hallways, we entered the launch bay. "Duo and I have managed to get access to the machine's computers. It shouldn't take long for us to start her up and get her launched. She's very reasonable." Sheshi explained as we walked up to the foot of the machine. "It's really no different than your Gundams..."

I raised a brow, scanning the white giant. The boy personified it, as if it had a mind of it's own. Then a gain, historically Rai personified his machines as well. Perhaps Sheshi was just mirroring his "genetic" prototype. He seemed to sympathize with everything around him.

Still as a pilot, I could see some grotesque inaccuracies in his statements. "It's larger, and if history is right it will have a linear cockpit. Two things that will make a very big difference in piloting." I informed flatly.

He nodded. "Oh yes, I know that Mr.. Wufei, but the control is basically the same. Though it might be a bit more sensitive to mental commands than the Zero System. In fact, it should be easier to maneuver because many of the commands go strictly from your brain. It will be like an extension of your own body... At least, that is what Duo says. " He paused, looking down, scarlet blossoming on his pale cheeks. "He call's it a Gundam pilot's Wet dream."

I snorted. It was typical Duo . I was beginning to believe it was his favorite expression. "He would."

The boy went to respond, when he paused, pale. Then looked up, blinking in the direction we came. "He's lost. Duo has become a part of the FTL. " Despairing, he dropped his head and shook it. "I told him he was too weak to fight it. He knows nothing of mental combat. He should have let me help him, but he's too stubborn..."

From the grief in the child's voice I realized he was feeling just as helpless as I. I drew a breath and eased a hand onto his shoulder, sensing he was in need of comfort. "Yes he is stubborn, but I'd have a little more faith in him. That stubbornness is to our advantage. If you approach him right, he'll use it against the FTL..."

Yes, insane as it was I believed Duo would fight the FTL's control if we assisted him. It wasn't impossible. All one needed to do was point out to him what was happening and keep Reminding him. He'd then use that "Maxwell" mule persistence to free himself. Yet from his dark green orbs, I could see Sheshi hadn't the same confidence. Perhaps being an empath and psychically connected to Duo he saw an entirely different side to him. Yet I couldn't risk believing it. Not now.

"But if he doesn't face certain things, he'll never have the strength and will be quite content hiding from himself in the FTL." Sheshi explained slipping by me.

Effortlessly, he launched himself in the zero g gravity, toward the scaffolding in front of the NU Gundam's cockpit.

I paused for a moment, reflecting his words, then wondered exactly what the boy meant. Then, with no more adieu, I followed suit. There were more important things at hand and the sands of time were slipping away by the moment.

*************

Chapter I

The Awakening

Heero

I left Hilde in the control center and set down the hall in a dead sprint. I ignored Hilde's warnings as I ran. As of now, I didn't give a damn who saw me. I'd most likely get hung for it, but if I could leave for Mars as planned I'd be gone before the real shit hit the fan.

Sadly Relena and Une might take the flack for my actions. Then again, it was something they were trained to deal with. Unlike me, I was not politician.

Unfortunately, Relena would also be in danger. I tightened my lip, jogging steadily down the hall, trying to find a solution. I despised the idea of being the one who deliberately placed Relena's neck on the line in order to go into battle. But as far as I was concerned I was the best man for the job, and they were doomed without me. If the colony and the diplomats were to survive, all of us would have to act defensively. So my presence might be generally accepted as a precautionary measure. It was what the Colonies and Earth made us for. And it wasn't the first time lady Une used the Gundam pilots, despite their reputations.

If Dorothy was correct, none could argue it, without looking like a fool. Had to hand it to the woman, she placed all the cards on the table and gave the Gundam pilots a little more immunity to the hostilities around them.

For what gain, I hadn't a clue, but I was never one to kick a gift horse in the mouth.

I'd kill Catalina later if her reasons were foul, but until then, I'd use her.

As I rounded the corner, I recognized the emergency alert sirens squeal though the base and lady Une's voice vibrating though the hall, ordering all positions to be manned. They weren't taking this lying down.

I felt a moment of relief. Lady Une always understood the beauty of warriors and the need to fight.

Sadly without mobile suits the Colonies were screwed. Which was why I had to find Rasid. Or Quatre. He might have been in Romafeller's hands, but I trusted his work before his capture. And he did reconstruct the Wing Zero...

Wing Zero, I smiled fondly, finding myself looking forward to flying it again. Like many men, I appreciated the feel of raw power at my fingertips. Especially when there was meaning to the battle.

I came to the entrance, seeing it swarming with Preventer agents. They studied me as I flashed my former Id and attempted to pass them. As expected, they lowered weapons to my chest, unswerving gazes locked on my face.

"Where the hell are you going Yui? Romafeller has charges against you!"

Old news, I wished they had forgotten. Life was infinitely inconvenient.

I was still a criminal and to let me near any of the diplomats was insane. "I need to talk to Quatre Winner." I said, loud enough for Quatre turn his head in my direction. "And if you want to live, I advise you to keep out of my way."

The guns and bullets weren't a problem. I could get past them. None of the guards were capable of matching my agility and speed. But the act would only panic the diplomats and destroy Relena's reputation.

Relena. I spied the golden haired girl below, surrounded by other diplomats. She was in a heated discussion with Dorothy and her new Partner John Ferio. From her hardened features, Relena was holding her own, sticking by her pacifist guns, without looking lie a fool. Dorothy was undoubtedly trying to make her look bad. But politics were Relena's battleground, and none matched her nobility and strength of will when it came to an argument (even someone as crafty as Dorothy ). Still I tightened my jaw, knowing the case Dorothy presented dampened some of Relena's fervor. Her deep blue eyes cast no innocents on the world around her.

I managed to pick up a few words. They were discussion going into battle. And as I suspected, Relena was attempting to convince them to open dialogue with the attacking nation. Something she knew was suicide, but has little choice to suggest in order to keep her position as Minister of Peace.

A part of me was proud of the girl and regretted leaving her when it was time. I needed her.

With an effort, I tore my attention form my Queen, and scanned the room for Quatre.

He was only standing a few feet away, in an urgent discussion with Rasid and Trowa.

Trowa, I lifted a brow, wondering exactly what Damage Alexie had done to him. If I was right, he had Quatre and Trowa long enough to turn them both into assassins. Unless that is, his tactics had changed.

Which was a possibility. Alexie was no fool. He was using Dorothy and politics as his weapons this time. Whatever plans he had for Quatre and Trowa would be subtle. For he wanted to stay dead to the world.

Which brought me to Dorothy and Ferio.

Ferio seemed familiar to me.

"Mr.. Yui, " The guard's voice broke me from my thoughts. "I'm afraid you'll have to be taken for questioning..."

I was wasting way too much time. "I'm not leaving. And I don't have time for this." I said, looking directly at Quatre.

The boy turned his head, meeting my gaze suddenly aware of my presence. "Allah be praised! HEERO !" The small blond youth abandoned his discussion, and hobbled painfully up the stairs to the entranceway and faced down the guards. " Heero is right, we don't have time to argue here. If the enemy is coming, we're the only ones with mobile suits."

Below, Rashid and his men, grunted with enthusiastic agreement. "That is right Master Quatre!" Abdol said. "Rashid! It is only appropriate to send our ships to meet with the enemy and that we join them now.! We are already ready for war."

"But Mr.. Winner. Nothing has been decided yet...." The soldier went to object." And Mr.. Yui broke into a Romafeller facility."

"That's been dealt with." Trowa replied evenly walking to my side. He gave me a thin smile. "Romafeller dropped the charges. Heero is free to go." He handed one of the men a folder. Trowa wasted no time with words. " Now, we have a defensive battle to attend to... We use the GUNDAMS."

Down below, Relena glanced up, apparently after hearing the word Gundam, then weakly smiled. She didn't like what I had to do, but she knew it was my nature. It was necessary to let the loose cannons be just that.

"Then it's settled. " Quatre said, nodding to his men. "To the mobile suits."

To my surprise though, Ingram Reily, sprinted up to us. "We'll catch up," He said to Quatre. "We have Hades, Midguard and Quesqquadel in dock!"

Mobile Suits, I was sure of it. In general I wasn't very comfortable with the idea of our impostors flying into battle with us. But under the circumstances, we didn't have much of a choice.

Quatre waved down. He trusted them. Ahhh, Alexie, I was already seeing his affect. "It will be good to have three more Gundams in battle with us. " He said swiftly .

"Hmph." I turned down the hall. "Just make sure he keeps his guns away from me. I'll kill him if he shoot me again."

*********************

Duo

Space, it called.

Its long seductive fingers caressed my bound form, sinking into my flesh and winding themselves around my nerves.

Words.

"Angel, angel, do not resist, we are now one. Without your mind, we shall never reach optimal efficiency."

Data retrieval, subject, adolescent male, weight 110 lbs., height 5'2, race human hybrid. Activate life support.

Linking.

"Life support?" my lips murmured hazily as my body settled into the mechanical arms cradling it. Yes, together, we will activate life support. I opened to the mechanized touch, letting its fingers reach into my brain and as one being, we commanded the systems before us.

A word of circuits and logarithms opened, jumbling endlessness in my mind. Yet, the more it guided me, the more I comprehended the complex mathematical messages before.

It was how it controlled its body.

Were as I a mere, weak human organism used electrical pulses to command flesh and bone, it used numbers and calculations. Calculations only computed by the advanced human brain.

It needed me to function.

Pleased, it rewarded me by wriggling tingles down my inner thigh and pulsing around my genitals. I trembled. Yes, I was an animal component, and easily tended to and it would happily do so when I cooperated.

Moaning, I let my being focus on the sensations, ridding on the pleasure probing my lower torso.

I felt alive, and sank in the peaceful pleasure as it rolled over my form.

"Everything thing you need is here, Angel." It said coldly, but I heard no coldness in my heart.

"You can not function properly without unity."

"Unity..." I repeated convinced of my own failings. Never in my singular existence had I felt this alive. The same prodding sensation tickled my mind, teasing my brain with more sensual caresses. More erotic shivers swept my body, blotting out any feeble attempts to consider the consequences of living the life on sensation alone. If it could do this with my body, it could do anything with my mind.

Like breath (breath? the word was on the tip of my tongue, but had no meaning).

Cool words spoke once more as it passed into my very soul. My brain buzzed with pleasant static . "Symbiote in place and functional."

Again it touched and stroked my essence, it now needed what made me. It needed the very chemicals making up my memories and self.

Enraptured by the wave of colors and breezes sweeping over my form ,I considered my options. What harm could it do? Who was I to fight my mother's womb?

Especially when it was only logical to better my functions as a machine.

"Yes... Commence procedure." Whispered from my lips eagerly.

I wanted to live, I wanted to feel, I needed it to think for me. I was dependent...

"Accessing neural connections."

Sweet pain lanced down my spine, igniting a series of images.

Cradled in a womb of warmth, I hovered in a small comforting space, body snug beside another small form like my own. Even though the world was dark, the lulling thud of mother's heart echoed like sweet music easing my newly formed human awareness.

Like a tape on fast forward, images of my ghostly past sped by and vanished before I could grasp and truly understand them. As swiftly as they came something drew them into itself and stored them as information.

There was no fighting, only confusion.

Alone in the dark, dimly aware of the soothing pulses of heat slithering into my body, I could only vaguely understand what was happening to me.

In truth, it wouldn't let me. Ignorance is bliss.

Helpless, I watched, brain reliving yet again the horrors of my young life.

I was a child again, staring with glassy eyed fear, as a tall blond haired man with green eyes, nudged me behind him. His hand dropped to my head, as he stared across the room at another man.

Steel blue eyes captured mine, making me cringe, and draw back behind my father..

Father?

Blue eyes met green, father refused to look away, instead defiance glared from his emerald pools. "You. I knew you were behind this... It all makes sense."

Alexie, the man with the blue eyes, smiled thinly, fingers adjusting the lapel of his blue silk suit. "Now, now, Mr.. Reily. I seemed to have caught you red handed.." He gestured to me as I groped at father's pant leg.

Why didn't he pick me up? Father always cried me. Why he was just carrying me a moment ago... But then all the sudden he showed, he the hurting man with the blue eyes.

The eyes that felt like they were eating me from the inside out..

Eating, eating, something eating....

A cold shiver swept my toddler's body as I stared up at father.

He was terrified. "Patrick." He said evenly. "Let go, Patrick.."

Let go? Why did daddy want me to let go, just a little bit ago, he wanted me to stay close so he could keep me safe. Daddy was taking me away some place, he said. He called it Zen and said it was in space. I had to stick close to him so the doctors wouldn't take me away.

That's what he said.

Tears in my eyes I watched him wondering if our secret trip was over..

Over, over, something was wrong...

But what?

I looked away from my father, back to the blue eyed man recalling how he wanted to come with him earlier that day.

Experiment he said.

"Daddy..."

Now I was really scared, was daddy gonna let the blue eyed man take me?

Suddenly I felt father push me aside, and pull for a gun at his hip.

The shots rang out like thunder causing me to screech and plug my ears as I dived for cover.

There was a scraping like claws against steal, then a slashing sound like something cutting air.

Screams followed.

Terror forced me to pull away, my mouth opening and closing against something thick and slimy.

Blackness.

More information, faster this time, leaving me numb and incapable of digesting exactly what I saw.

Then it was over with, as fast as it started.

Screams.

Something screaming.

Processing data.

Letters buzzed by, flickering one at a time in a blink like my eyes were a screen on computer.

Sweet pain tickled though my mind, triggering spasms of tension as I slowly became aware of myself.

Awareness. We I aware.

Data.

Psychic coordinates, disturbance in the L1 configuration, Earth sector 290, sphere 3.

Processing.

Over ridding bay door sequence, 000022293846549009....

Numbers, numbers, numbers hissed erratically thought my brain along with flashes of light and the occasional buzz of mechanical reasoning.

Where was I?

Who was I?

I thought hard, diverting my strain of thought from the stream of information washing over my brain to the very thought of consciousness.

Consciousness, yes, I was conscious. I wasn't sure if was a good thing. I felt oddly strange and was puzzled by the assault of numerical data flooding my mind. Yet, it seemed normal to me. Still, some how, the numbers I'd associate myself thinking of were usually measurements of female assets rather than spatial coordinates.

Unless I was piloting something.

Piloting? yes, I was piloting. But my eyes were closed.

Were they?

Was I dreaming? I was in darkness and the numbers appearing before me seemed more like dream images...

Oh, man, something, something wasn't right... I just couldn't place my finger on it.

Angel, why do you fight? Optimal efficiency can only be obtained if we are one...

Yes, that was right. Perhaps that was what was wrong. I was fighting.

It was important to process the data so we could make a successful FTL jump.

Jump?

What fuck'n planet was I on? Only the outer Colonies had...

Again the voice spoke, soothing the tension gripping my alarmed brain. "Angel..."

Why did I fight?

I felt a flood of pleasant tingles swept my body as the mechanical giant unfolded from its box like configuration.

Processing...

I fought because it was what I did. It defined me.

Me.

Singular.

Was I singular.

For some reason there was something missing. Being singular and self-contained was insufficient and meaningless.

Why?

Who was I?

My steel and gundanium body stood, engines primed as she readied for lift off.

I saw through its eyes.

It? What was it?

Why was I not we?

Or why was we not I?

Confusion wracked my mind, glitching my dream for a moment with snow like static .

Dream, not dream.

Sensors.

"Angel." the voice tightened its hold on my thoughts, guiding me back to its womb. "Angel, we are one. processing. Scanner, fully functional. "

The world flashed back and fuzz, blossomed into full color.

A wide launch bay carved out of stone walls, and a single figure standing on one of the scaffoldings panned into view.

G.

His face was pale with worry as he watched us as we majestically commenced moving toward the bay doors.

We???

Wee?

Helplessly trapped, I tried to shake my head, feeling it confined against tendril restrains as I attempted to move.

Processing....Bay door codes are overridden, proceeding to ramp.

It's thoughts over overwhelmed my brain, blocking any awareness of singularity.

Launch preparations were integral to our reaching the Colonies in time.

Screams, flashing of light, explosions flooding space in a microsecond, then fading into nothingness as it's airless vacuum smothered its flames.

A battle.

Three Gundams blasted into space.

Quickly our minds eyes scanned for data on each mobile suit.

My head buzzed painfully as the information scrolled by.

Class Gundam, Heavyarms, XXXG-01H2-weapons class Gundam...

Class Gundam, Sandrock, XXXG-01SR2-Alice System-AI class Gundam...

Class Gundam, Wing -Zero, XXXG-00WO- Psycho Gundam class...

What? How?

Anguish squeezed tears from my eyes, as I struggled to withdraw my mind from the flood of blueprints assailing my brain.

Who..

Yes, Who was important...

Faces appeared, faces I knew but could not place a finger one.

A blond Boy-Newtype.

A short haired flaxen boy artificial -Newtype

A boy with dead gray eyes, and dark brown hair.

Wing-0

Who?

Heero ... Heero Yuy.

The ass hole.

Who?

The best God-damned friend I could ever had.

My mind snapped back in a furry of memory. I was Duo Maxwell, pilot of the Deathscythe Hell, Shinagami to my enemies..

Yes, that was right. I had a nightmare, and realized it was a clairvoyant vision. As an attempt to reign some sort of control over my mind, and block the control the "Voices" and FTL had, I was attempting to fly the monster suit.

My goal was to rescue the Colonies from an occurring attack.

Yes, that was right. The data filling my brain was the FTL preparing to launch. My mind was serving as its core computer. Together we were going to stop the attack.

Wasn't this what I wanted. I wanted to help and what was the difference between it or me in control? As long as the Colonies were saved.

I had no fear, and felt like I belonged. I felt no pain save for the occasional thud in my head as data filed by, but other than that I was a fully functional machine.

In fact, my body tingled with bursts of sensations and energy that were both pleasant and erotic. It was more logical to stay within the womb of the FTL, than to fight what was to be.

Yes, Heero Yuy WAS my human side's friend. But Duo Maxwell had no more need of anyone outside of the FTL.

Slithering.

Sucking.

Chilled, I diverted my attention to my human eyes.

Something thick was closed inside of my mouth and over my nose, giving me air. It reminded me of the life support systems in the hospital.

Painlessly, I opened my eyes seeing a tangle of tubs and organic cables wound around my body.

I was crucified, hanging in organic fleshy blackness. Thick wires and tendrils, like swollen veins, hooked into my naked body in every possible place. They fed me, they pleased me, they tended to my psychological processes, they kept me alive.

But most of all I gave it my mind and power to function.

The FTL owned my very soul.

Even my hair seemed to be a part of the machine and I was surprised to notice that some of the connections were becoming my own flesh.

Our relationship was the prefect fusion. It almost excited me, and trickled pleasant throbbing around my genitals. We were perfectly self sustained.

The cables locked around my waist and legs pulsed as if breathing, and I noticed how pink the flesh seemed.. It was alive...

The entire suit was alive.

I should have felt fear, I should have cared, but my heart was cold. Fear was illogical as was resisting.

Of course the FTL was alive, we were one organism.

Then there was the silence. Only the machine spoke to me, but that was in unison with my own thoughts and calculations. The voices were gone as was the backdrop of psychic banter. I was free and clear of any distractions.

I could control my powers.

My functions were running smoothly.

The ocean of space, yawned before both of us as we glided into its vacuum.

Processing.

The light speed jump coordinates were set...

Once more I fell into the seductive hold of the FTL..

******************

GUNN

"Wesson! Battle stations! Wake up there, sleepyheads, there's a war on!"

He sprinted down the corridor, weaving between the slower people who scrambled to get out of his way. Old, old habit caused him to pull out one of his ever-present cigars and stuff the unlit cylinder between his teeth. "Smith! Report!"

"Sir!" Jack Smith responded instantly. One of only two people in the Service who could get away with calling him Sir, Smith had known Gunn since the huge native of Ragnarok had been a Second Lieutenant in the OC Navy. "I have multiple inbounds, launched from our previously identified bases in South America. I make it at least forty vessels, from destroyer to full carrier or battleship class. They're throwing out a lot of chaff and ECM, and it's pretty hot stuff. Lots better than the out-of-date crap their targets have."

Damn, he thought. This don't make much sense. No sign of any alien forces here, but tech like that don't grow on trees. They got help from somewhere, I'll bet my boots on it. "Wesson, what's our status?"

"Sir! Power room reports thirty seconds to full operational status. Shields on standby. Cannon charging, all missile launchers showing green, Medical is on standby, crew all present and at their stations except our slacking Captain, Sir!" Hilary Wesson was the second person who could call the Marine Force Leader by the honorific "sir" -- both she and Jack Smith had been briefly under his command and never let him forget for an instant that he'd once been a Navy boy instead of one of the Real Men in the Marines.

"Gimme a break, Wesson, I've been stuck in hell." he growled past the cigar in his teeth. "Hadda take time to regroup. I'll be there in another ten seconds. I want the damn door shutting so fast behind me that it kicks me in the rump for not figurin' they'd try this ahead of time."

"My pleasure, Sir!"

He burst into the landing bay, saw the bright lights shining from the boarding tunnel to the ship. Here there was no gravity, and he kicked off from the side of the bay and flew like lightning. He felt a small bit of satisfaction as he passed through the boarding tunnel without adjustment, having aimed his jump to perfection. He bowed his head and tucked his body into a ball for a moment, causing him to rotate 180 degrees, and then stretched out just in time to have his boots come to a solid landing on the wall of the airlock. The door was indeed shutting just as he hit the opposite wall, and the artificial gravity of Shadowblade slowly took effect -- slowly enough, at any rate, for him to rotate downward another 90 degrees so that he was standing on the floor rather than the wall. The inner door hissed open, and he barreled up to the bridge.

The viewscreen showed the usual peaceful view of the Earth and stars, but now was overlaid with the multicolored grids, symbols, lines, and vectors of a battle display.

Gunn took the situation in at a glance. Green for the allied forces, reds for hostiles, amber for unknowns or undeclared.

Hell of a lot more red than green.

The Shadowblade was heading on an intercept course for the main body of the enemy ships. Other vessels were launching from the L1 Colonies , but pitifully few. Hannibal Gunn could see that Smith's initial estimate had been too optimistic, or that their ECM had been extremely good. Nearly 80 vessels were approaching, designated by crimson tags showing their speed, size, and probable armament. The main body, consisting of 42 vessels, was maintaining formation to meet the defenders, while the others...

"Smith! Hard about, 180! No Z-axis deflection, either."

Smith acted without question or even conscious thought; following Gunn 's orders was second nature to any member of her crew. As the Shadowblade spun on her axis and thrust back in the direction she had came, he glanced back at Gunn and nodded.

"Sir! What's the panic?" Wesson asked from her position at firecontrol.

"Lookit the formation, Sergeant. That whole secondary force is making straight for the central L1 colony we just left. They wanna make sure none of the delegates go home alive.

"Benny, gimme a public channel to those South American ships."

Benedict Dumont, one of the newer members of the Shadowblade's crew, did so.

"Attention South American vessels. This is the Marine Assault Cruiser Shadowblade, Force Leader Hannibal Gunn commanding. Your vessels are ordered to stand away from L1 colony X18999 immediately. I repeat, stand away from L1 X18999 immediately, or you will be fired upon. Acknowledge immediately."

Gunn watched narrowly as the secondary force slowed its approach; unlike a ground-bound set of vehicles, nothing in space could just come to a screeching hault, but you could choose to apply or not apply a set of vectors. Two vessels, however, did not slow.

"Shadowblade, this is Captain Ruiz LaPorte, commanding the First Battle Group. This is not the Outer Colonies ' concern. Do not interfere." Ruiz' face, overlaying the battle display, was tanned and hard, the face of an experienced and dedicated warrior.

"Captain Ruiz, I gotta differ with you. There are thousands of civilians on these Colonies . I will not stand by and permit a massacre, understand? To the two vessels still approaching, this is my final warning: turn aside or be destroyed!"

Wesson shook her head. "No sign of diversion, sir!"

Ruiz' expression was a cross between a sneer and disgust. "You come from a degenerate civilization, trying to pollute the purity of Earth, and you think we will just stand aside? Senor, the will of God is with us, and you shall be swept away if you interfere!"

Gunn repressed his own sharp retort. Instead he felt a pang of pity; someone had really whipped up some good old-fashioned prejudice and hatred down there. He shook his head. "Take the lead ship, Wesson."

"How much of a statement, sir?"

He hesitated for a moment. It was always like this. In the middle of battle there was no time for thought or regret, but before the first shot was fired, a man had to think about what he was going to do. Over in that ship there were hundreds of men. Fanatics, maybe, but most of 'em honestly believing they were doing what they had to do. And with his word they lived or they died, an' wasn't that really only God's place to decide?

But sometimes God asked you to make the choice for Him. He closed his eyes, then opened them and took the cigar from his mouth. "Stop 'em cold, Wesson. No half-measures."

"Sir!"

One red dot, identified as the Guadalupe, suddenly swelled onscreen, surrounded by a target grid showing its precise vector, possible escape paths, probable defenses. Target acquired. Target locked.

"Fire."

Twin Novagun 750mm cannon spewed a blaze of coherent stellar radiance. Encased in a warpfield, the two bolts crossed the 25,000 miles to the Guadalupe in less than a thousandth of a second. There was a flicker then, as whatever defenses the South American cruiser had tried vainly to stop the incredible bludgeon of force, and then...

Guadalupe blew apart. The impact of Novafire vaporized the entire forward end of the vessel, 40,000 tons of hardened armor plate exploding into incandescent gas in a microsecond, and secondary blast and radiance effects shorted the governors on her own engines; triple fusion plants failed and exploded with thermonuclear fury.

Where Guadalupe had been was nothing but a swiftly expanding cloud of radioactive gas.

Guadalupe's sister ship Medjugorje shifted vectors violently, coming about in what amounted to a screaming backpedal. For the moment, at least, the terrible power of Shadowblade had averted the frontal assault. But Gunn was under no illusions; they would try again, and it wouldn't be nearly so easy next time.

***************

Quatre

The newly preped mobile suits were ready to go when I reached the launch bay. Rasid and the Magnac core took good care of them and compleated whatever upgrades I asked of them. Unfortunately since the Colonies destroyed the Mobile Suits after the Marmameia's uprising, the Gundams and the Magnac core were all we had.

As a result, I had little choice but to fight, injured or not.

South America had us out gunned. And I couldn't help but dwell on the notion we were going in to a futile battle.

I slid into the lap of Sandrock, my old friend, and keyed up the controls despite the pain radiating down my spine. In the end, I knew his Alice system would make it easier for me to fight and any wounds would have to stay their protests till the battle was over.

According to the reports, both the Peacemillion and its pietiful fleet of tank ships and fighters were engaged in battle with the South Americna forces as well as Gunn 's ship, Shadowblade.

So far, losses were heavy on our side, the Preventers had lost three cruiser class ships and the South American's just lost one to the Shadowblade.

Still space was swarming with South American mobile suits. They were taking no chances.

The odds didn't look good, though in Shadowblade we had a good allie. Sadly we didn't know how long they could assist. The outer Colonies could order them not to interfer.

I took a deep breath, not even wanting to consider the possibility. We'd get thought this, the Gundam never let us down.

Affectionaly, I stroked Sandrock's control pannel, feeling it's warmth. the screens around me flickered on as life sparked int the Suit's circutry. "All systems, functioning at maxmium. " I wispered to myself, studying the data scene. It was time. "Well dear Sandrock, we're leaving now. I hope you are ready."

I quicky qued up take off and guided my gental giant down the launch bay.

We glided into space, just behind the Wing Zero and Heavy Arms. Already the star field around Colony X 18999 blazed with firy flowers of death. The battle was in full swing. South American mobile suits plagued the Preventers vessels like giant nats, seeking blood.

I shuttered, only now realizing how fragile the world we made really was. Peace was impossible.

"Well, that's damned ugly." Ingram's image appeared on my comlink, blond hair twitching as he lowered his attention to his control pannel. "See the way they are blinking in and out of your view screens?"

I heard Heero's grunt, then noted a peroid of silence over Trowa's communicator. I inhaled, staring at the screen. Yes, several of the suits on screen seemed to vanish and reapear.

Another carefull examination told me they were Augemented Talgeese class ships, most likely Zero enhanced. "Allah."

"FTL . I understand." Trowa replied with his usual tonelessness. "We'll have to devise a strategy. The Zero System has no limitations now. One can attack at a thought."

"Bloody ugly if you're not FTL." Ingram said . "But we are. Leave the suits to the three of us."

FTL , I tightened my lip, staring down at my poor Sandrock's controls. Once more he was out dated and out classed. yet some how, he had to perservere. Then, if fortunate, we'd give him an upgrade once more. But where was S when I needed him?

"So I am assuming the Cruisers can't manuever with FTL.?" Heero said voice edged with a hint of concern.

It was Sulyn that spoke. "All the South American fleet has FTL capability, we were in the process of borrowing the technology when we were ordered away by Ms. Catolonia. Fortunately for you, FTL with the larger cruisers can only be activated for large jumps and this is too close quarters for them."

"Hummm unluckily for them. Zero tells me the new engines are particularly sensitive and can easily become a weakness if hit in the right place."

it was a stroke of luck, I keyed up my system and prepared for data transfer.

"Send over the data." I heard Trowa say. "We'll need everything we can get."

Data scrolled down my main computer screen with in moments. I smiled seeing how close the main engine room was to the tail of the ships. "Thank you Heero . We'll have to be carefully, they'll probably be the most defended."

"Look we don't have time to chat." Ingram's voice snapped. "We're dealing with FTL. Move out people, this one is going to go fast!"

I watched Ingram's image blink out, then in a flash, Hades vanish from my vision.

"He better share the wealth." Heero Remarked coolly, hitting his boosters and heading into battle.

"We have a strategy." Trowa added. heavy arms peeled away from our tight formation, then veered toward the edge of the South American fleet. "I'll take the end, Heero you take the head and Quatre, take the middle, with luck we can Remove the head ships in the fleet and knock off their chain of command."

"With luck and Godspeed." I wispered, kicking in Sandrock's boosters and heading straight into the fray. Vaguely I heard Heero mutter over the comlink.

"Praying and God is for fools, We have what we need."

************

I cut my way though space, dodging what blows the South American FTL forces delivered. Ingram, and his group offered a great deal of cover and I only managed to reach the fleet with their miraculous skill backing me up. Other than that, I was far to busy, not dying to witness the progress of the others or the Magnac core. I assumed they were having as difficult of a time as I was and death clung heavy in the air.

Most of my journey consisted of dodging, bracing, taking hits, and, running. In the past, my strategies were a little more complex, but I didn't have the time to calculate the best course of action. I hadn't the advantage of the Wing Zero.

My fate was in God's hands. If Allah deemed it, I could deliver a blow to one of the attacking vessels and we'd have one less enemy to worry about.

So far, Allah had not allowed me to get close to any. And I spend the majority of my time, being the unwilling target.

However, we were blessed in one sense, the FTL suits kept to the main field, away from the larger ships. All I had to worry about were the ships guns and a few upgraded Mercrious class Mobile Suits.

It was difficult though. Upgraded and Remodeled, the squat, ugly, Mercrious's managed to take several of my blows before giving into a firy death. Regrettably, I was forced to get in close and take a great deal of damage before taking them out.

They were mobile doll fast. A part of me failed to feel any human life connected with them. Their strategy was simple and almost mechanical; hold me up long enough so the cruiser I targeted moved out of position and into a more defended zone. To make matters worse, they kept coming, in an attempt to ware me down.

I was exhausting, and Sandrock had taken many blows.

To make matters worse, one of my wounds was beginning to break open and I could feel blood oozing down my thigh.

I would have to either quicken my reflexes or pray for a miracle.

I frowned, seeing my target once more slip behind a veil of Mercrious Dolls. This wouldn't do. I had to find another tactic but what?

My gut tightened and I found myself scrambling to avoid a blast from a doll that just appeared in my blind spot. Cursing I grappled with it, then brought down my simatars, slicing into it's belly.

Strange, my gut often tightened before an attack. Sometimes I could even anticipate how and where if I concentrated.

Then it dawned on me, I had completely ignored what I was and the advantages it brought into battle.

I felt Sandrock vibrate as I barely avoided another blow from a new group of Mobile Dolls. It was close though, and the concussion jarred every bone in my body. It was an effort not to scream as anguish jolted though my wounds.

Poor Sandrock had already taken several direct hits, and now, even the near misses were straining him.

Newtypes often relied on their enhanced reflexes and their mental powers to pilot suits. Something I wasn't used to, save for minimal circumstances.

I had to trust in myself and surrender to my Newtype training.

Inhaling I closed my eyes, for they were just distracting me from what my heart was saying.

A flash of light and in my mind's eye I could see, them moving. Two were veering to the rear, the other three taking me head on. Their computers were detecting stress and directing them for the kill. The two in the rear were to gab, the other three calculate laser swords would be their best option for my demised. They cut off my escape roots before I could act...

But I acted before they could move. Their tactics were fresh in my mind, and with the lightening agility of a novice Newtype, I ordered Sandrock up and out of their way, a split second before they could converge on me.

My timing allowed for two of them to take the rear guards out, leaving three to the mercy of my two curved blades.

I dove down between then, swiveling Sandrock's weapons, cutting though their torsos like butter.

Instinct said the ships were on the move and not to waist time on the limping ships I dismantled, so as quickly as I came, I dropped down, then burned fuel toward the cruiser.

There my gut warned me to stop abruptly before I collided with something...

Something?

I yanked back on the controls kicking Sandrock into a full halt when IT appeared. Black as night, the size of a cruiser itself, a devil's machine materialized out of thin air, directly before the Cruiser I targeted and in touching distance of Sandrock.

My head screamed with pain and it took all my concentration to keep from coiling my body into a protective ball. Instead, I gapped, palms slick with sweat.

Voices, I could hear voices whispering and screeching what sounded like meaningless data.

But where did they come from? Was it possible this machine was capable of being psychic itself?

I stared glassy eyed at the monitor, studying the beast's metallic flesh, a part of me drawn to it. It was sleek, and beautiful.

A moment passed and it's screams twisted into a siren's song, lulling me into security.

My breathing quickened and I almost popped open the hatch to get a more intimate look at the giant.

It wouldn't hurt me, it would protect me.

Yet, despite my thoughts, something froze me where I sat. Beyond the hypnotic call, I could feel hunger and an overwhelming atmosphere of evil imposing on my world.

Evil...

That machine was just wrong.

I shuddered, and scrambled to close out its call. I grabbed my head, thrashing back against Sandrock's cushioned womb, and focused my mind. I FTL tainted as if unspeakable devils squirmed in my brain in an attempt to take my very soul.

I built a mental wall, at first by ignoring, then flowed by forcing the thing's grip on my mind away. the entire process seemed to take hours, but when I opened my eyes, not even a second as transpired.

My mind was in silence for now.

The beast with all it's might and size, raised what looked like a Scythe over it's head.

A scythe. A chill swept my spine and I recalled the whispers and its touch. It was all too familiar.

The WEB?

In a split second the Machine was gone, it's weapon cleaving though the South American ship as if it were nothing but soft clay.

My mental "radar" warned me away, and I involuntarily, pulled back on the controls, forcing Sandrock to retreat, milliseconds before the ship exploded into a firestorm.

Burning gas slammed into Sandrock's back, tossing him head over heal though space and out of control.

It took all the strength I had, to steady him, and guide him away from protentail colissions. But after a moment, of straining every muscle in my body, I stayed my Gundam.

And peered into the devastation.

Every doll in the vicinity of the Cruiser erupted in flames, while the monster machine seemed to descend out of no where on its fellow ships. Like the Angel of death, it wheeled its massive Scythe, cutting the enemy into space debris.

I gasped for air, feeling my lungs tighten as I watched explosions wash over the battlefield.

The fray seemed to falter some, the enemy being just as stunned as I.

"WHAT IN THE HELL?" Heero's voice crackled over my radio.

"An FTL psycho-Gundam." I heard Trowa say flatly.

"The predecessor to the Computer system of the Wing Zero." Tally spoke in awe. "But the South Americans don't have Sheshi Rem... They don't have a pilot for their..."

It was easy to listen to their banter, and I couldn't help but hear their words, but not really understand them. Rather, I watched it, the FTL as it laid waist to the fleet threatening us.

Was it connected to the Web? Or did it just remind me of the web? And if that were the case, all my fears and pains concerning Trowa and the Creatures in the web were undoubtedly real . How many times did I have to face my night terrors?

I WAS SANE.

I narrowed my brow, and let my mind open once more to the call that immobilized me earlier. I had to know.

For now I consciously knew it was real and our souls were in mortal danger.

"It's not theirs. "Ingram spoke in the distance. "God Damn it! We're screwed there is no way any of us can match that bloody bastard!"

"You're getting unnecessarily emotional, Mr.. Reily." I recognized a female voice, but failed to connect it to its owner.

"Listen to the lady." Heero added, but his words became far, far away as I let myself converge on the FTL's voice. "It seems he's on our side. And I recognized the style."

Yes.

I could hear it again. It was calling for me, like the Web, but it was more mechanical. There was a difference, but the similarity could not just be a coincidence.

My mouth went dry as I gapped at the monitor. The battle was returning to full swing. This time, the South American FTL suits withdrew from the main battlefield and converged on the new comer.

I Watched it swing it's scythe down on yet another ship, than vanish as quickly as it came.

The screaming. I focused on it, trying to make heads or tails of the voice I knew I would hear.

It was saying something....

Yes, I recognized some of the words.

Ashes to ashes, the pilot of the FTL was Duo Maxwell.

***********

Trowa

For several moments, I studied the monitor, calculating the speed, size ,maneuverability and present course of the FTL mobile suit.

A part of me, felt fear tightening my gut. I breathed in deep, drinking in the feeling, aware, that those around me were also in terror of the monster before us.

I held my breath, recalling own I vowed to keep my emotions at bay, and fought the emotions until they became calm and icy. Control was very important. I focused, absorbing what I was seeing and began to systematically analyzing the events.

It was humanly impossible for a pilot to navigate faster than light, safely though the dense population of battleships in South America's front line. Yet some how, the FTL was doing do at an amazing pace. It was virtually invisible and it's targets unpredictable. All South America could do was sit and wait for it to strike and hope, they had enough fire in the vicinity to take the machine out.

But I highly doubted it. By the way it was maneuvering, I could tell the FTL's main weapons system could take out multiple targets, including several Colonies in one shot. Yet it seemed style was more important to it's pilot than efficiency. I rubbed my chin noting how the dolls were now converging on the massive suit.

they swarmed it in a feeble attempt to bombard it with missals, laser blasts and hand to hand. They were nats and all their attempts were either absorbed or bounced off the great monster suit's shields.

The very tactic left fewer enemies for the Gundams to fight and the main battle fleet open to our attacks.

Never one to turn down an opportunity, I guided Heavyarms though the barrage of enemy fire, and laid waist to the dolls on my trail with constant gunfire. Eventually they let up in time for me to reach my target. And I only had to avoid the ship's main guns.

Unfortunately I was out of bullets and had to go in close to take the cruiser out.

It was no problem for an expert like myself.

I noticed the Wing Zero and Sandrock following suit. With luck the enemy would be short three battle cruisers in a matter of moments.

Also, with their defenses down, it left room for Ingram and his triad to enter the fray and take on the other cruisers.

Twisting Heavyarms from a powerful plasma blast, from on of the ship's main guns, I brought down the energy sword and bisected the main FTL engines in the rear.

The Ship exploded seconds after I plunged from it in an attempt to escape.

I just stabilized my free fall when a new blip shot out of empty space. I recognized the design as one of Gunn's dropships. It swiftly avoided enemy fire, and headed straight toward the main Colony.

Puzzled, I rubbed my chin, computer like brain digging for data on the matter. Since I had arrived in L1 I observed two things, one Heero was suspicious of Quatre and I, and two Wufei and Sally were missing. No one dared to explain where they were. I didn't blame them of course. It would be a tactical blunder to trust anyone who was captive by the enemy any length of time. especially someone likes myself.

My motives and stragety could easily endanger their plans.

My motives were the protection and rebirth of my race..

His race...

Them, the beings I couldn't think about.

I shuttered, looking down at my sweeting palms and groped heavy arms controls hearing the voices speaking in unision with my thoughts once more.

Was I really thinking myself, or was it the we thinking?

Did it matter?

No questions.

Pained, I shook my head, releasing Heavyarms controls and rubbing my brow. What would Quatre say if he knew?

Then again, he was just human right and love for a human was unimportant. then why did I want to protect and charish him? I could have easily killed him the other night, yet I hesitated for love...

Quatre.

My hand shifted to my gut then ran down along my thighs feeling his physical agony. His pain was almost unbearable, but delicious at the same time.

It was an effort to redirect my mind from him, but I managed.

If Duo was flying the FTL, for the Scythe was his calling card, then Sally or Wufei, or both were piloting the drop ship.

My gaze narrowed not liking the implications. They went some were, but where? Where did the outer Colonies send them?

Obviously to find Duo .

But where? The problem with Gunn was he was untouchable. Not even Alexie understood what he was or what he thought. Planing for him was making a shot in the dark.

I narrowed my brow. I needed more information before I made any assumptions. And with my contact with Quatre is possible I could find out sooner or later.

Until then, I tightened my grip on the controls then swung heavy arms back into battle.

***************

Gunn

"Son of a BITCH." Gunn stared at the plot, chewing furiously on his cigar. "Looks like... Wesson, gimme an ID on that blip. Reference old files, pre-Exodus era."

"Sir!" The screen blanked, then came up with a display of a huge, black suit. "The FTL, sir. No doubt about it."

The FTL. "FTL " meant "Faster Than Light", of course, but in the Outer Colonies , the words "The FTL" meant only one thing: the machine that had given mankind the stars, and nearly cost the lives of the two greatest heroes of the First Space Era. Gunn had a moment of blank disbelief, unable to act, overwhelmed by this sense of ancient history come to life. The story of the FTL was an epic one, of treachery and brainwashing and evil and heroism and the triumph of a father's love over a conscienceless machine. The FTL Gundam represented both sides of technology, Alpha and Omega; it was as powerful a symbol to the Outer Colonies as the atomic bomb had been in the 20th century, as electricity in the 1800s, a force of life and death, of civilization and barbarism, a symbol of good and evil.

"Sir, the tactical situation sucks."

Gunn shook himself. "I'd appreciate a bit more detail, Wesson."

Multiple combat plots showed up on the screen, detailing combat engagement histories. Gunn sucked in his breath in an involuntary reflex as the meaning of the plots became clear.

The Outer Colonies had pretty much abandoned the use of Mobile Suits as weapons centuries ago. While anthropomorphic construction suits (themselves the ancestors of the true Mobile Suits) were still used commonly in space construction, in combat the Outer Colonies , and their occasional opposition, used much more standard, large warships supported by smaller fighter-style craft. Close-in engagements like this one were almost unheard-of any more, with modern sensor suites making it impossible to approach an enemy base without being immediately noticed, and therefore the strategy of interstellar warfare hearkened back to an even more distant era, that of the 20th century naval and aerial combat, where the battles would often be fought by instrument only, with long gaps in time separating the firing of a salvo and the result of that salvo. A Mobile Suit -- even a powerful one -- trying to cross the distance to get in range for the weapons such a suit was likely to mount would simply be blasted to vapor en route. The minor advantage the anthropomorphic shape and synchronized reaction gave the suit was completely overwhelmed by the amount of fire any reasonable enemy could target upon it during transit. And unlike the poor Earth Colonies , the Outer Colonies and their adversaries had perfectly good FTL sensors, so a vessel in FTL wasn't going to sneak up on them.

But in this case -- where the ships were almost close enough to see with the naked eye, where FTL transit times were measured in fractions of a second, and where the enhanced reflexes of the Newtype pilots made microjumps not only possible but practical -- the tactical situation was utterly changed. Here the FTL Mobile Suit dominated the battlefield, its FTL jumps so quick that the fact that Shadowblade could detect them made little difference; the few FTL suits seemed to wink in and out like deadly stars. Even the suits without FTL capability were dangerous, their Newtype pilots able to anticipate attacks and move just before the blow struck, and then deliver their own deadly riposte with pinpoint accuracy. Here the range was small enough that a suit could indeed carry weapons of sufficient range, and with enhancement systems like the Zero, could even upgun some of their larger onboard weapons to rival those of a capital ship.

The FTL itself seemed to pause for a timeless moment upon its appearance, making a grand, ominous entrance before streaking into lethal motion. Gunn winced and bit back an oath as one South American cruiser blew apart, sliced from stem to stern in a heartbeat by a blazingly brilliant scythe of energy.

"Whoever it is seems to be on our side." Jack Smith commented quietly.

Gunn shook his head uneasily. He recognized the stance and the fluid, economical grace of the movements. But those moves had been the trademark of a brainwashed killing machine.

"Sir, I have bogies closing. I think they've decided to try us again. Nine of them."

"Damn. Gimme the comm again, Ben." At Dumont's nod, he spoke again, expecting it would have no effect, but duty-bound to try. "South American vessels, this is Hannibal Gunn , commanding, Marine Assault Cruiser Shadowblade. You are on a vector which threatens L-1 Colony X18999. Colony X18999 is under my protection. Disengage and veer off immediately, or you will be fired upon. Repeat, disengage immediately and change heading, or you will be f -- oh, for cryin' out loud --"

Five destroyers, three cruisers, and one battleship fired simultaneously. Between them they spat a wave of seventy-two missiles simultaneously into space, screaming down at the defenseless colony.

"Wesson! Point defense up, locus around Colony X18999. They got no shields, Remember, so if we've got to suck it up, that's the way it's gotta be. Smith, expand shields for wide interdiction. They ain't got much in the way of penaids against our ECM, so divert most o' the backside shields around to the front. An' for crissakes keep us between 'em and Miss Relena's colony."

Watching the dozens of missile traces ripping across the battle plot, Gunn 's jaw tightened. This was going to get ugly.

***************

LaPorte

"Now!"

The battleship Conquistador opened up on Shadowblade with its main energy cannon just as the first salvo of missiles reached the Outer Colonies ' vessel. Ruiz LaPorte leaned forward in his command chair, willing the missiles to strike their target, the bolts of energy to smash the interfering outsiders' vessel aside. Shadowblade was far larger than Conquistador, but that volume of fire had to affect her. It had to!

Space erupted in a silent thunder of nuclear fire, as antimissile projectiles and energy cannon waged their desperate split-second battle to stop the incoming warheads before they reached the helpless colony that lay just past the Shadowblade. Plasma flamed as it struck the shields of the Outer Colonies ' vessel. For a moment the intensity caused the viewscreen to blank out as the light overwhelmed the cameras' safety factors. Then the screen came back online.

"Mierda." LaPorte cursed.

Silhouetted against threescore blazing clouds of thermonuclear fire, the knife-edged, dead-black shape of the Marine Assault Cruiser Shadowblade hovered between Conquistador and the colony she must destroy at any cost. The looming shadow turned almost lazily, rolling sideways in a maneuver that could only mean one thing. "First Battle Group, swing ship facing 90 degrees forward, divert all power to forward shields! Antimissile batteries, stand by to --"

"Madre de Dios!" the tac officer gasped.

Earth and her Colonies had spent their warfare in close quarters. Naval engagements between capital ships were relatively rare, the main vessels serving usually as carriers rather than primary combat units. Accordingly onl