Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(SIGNALIS x GUNDAM)

Rigidsttructure presents:

A Crossover Fan Story

Chapter Text

[WAKE UP]

We currently write the year 493 of the Universal Century Calendar.

Exactly 464 years ago, Mankind put most of its overswollen population out into space. During that time, hundreds of cylindrical space colonies in recreation of their original home filled out the space between the Earth and the rest of the solar system. In this new and unknown homeland, away from their original cradle, the human race births, lives...and dies.

50 years after these events, a cataclysmic war would shake the future of humanity to its core. The furthest colony away from Earth, Side 3, declared independancy and formed the Principality of Zeon, whose dictatorial regime declared war on the only slightly less corrupt Old Earth Federation. The event would later be known as the One Year War, with the Old Earth Federation prevailing as the victors of the conflict. Their success can be traced back to the exploits of an experimental war machine whose name would shape a legacy: Gundam.

From there, more and more conflicts would arise between Earth and Space, always with these machines in the eye of these storms. And while the conflict always had new and old participants and factions, in addition of resolving itself at the end, nothing truly changed for the people on any side. Especially when it came to the other phenomenon that arose from that time: The Newtype. Eventually, even the power the Old Earth Federation had began to crumble, which resulted in the beginning of a dark age for all of Humanity 193 years ago, an age that would last exactly one hundred years. This time would be later known as the Century of Sorrow. The knowledge of Newtypes became lost after so much exploitation.

Humanity was at rock bottom.

But as one old saying went: If you hit rock bottom, the only way now is up.

Eventually, Humanity managed to take this path upwards. The lives of the people improved, the conflicts became smaller, old rifts between factions mended. From the darkness of the now defunct Old Earth Federation emerged something new, something better. From the ashes of the days past, the New Earth Federation rose out. The knowledge of Newtypes would also be regained, this time with no exploitation, but an attempt of understanding and accepting the change.

Since then, Humanity knew relative peace and tranquility.

But like any good things in someone's life, nothing lasts forever.

And the following events will serve as a wake-up call from this trance.

[Perhaps, this is Hell.]

"Attention, all Personnel! This is your captain speaking!".

Within the space-faring vessel known under its designation of the Ra Cailum-Class, a voice was broadcasted across the many speakers built into the equally many rooms and places. From the uniformed people walking the halls, to the folk in the chambers, to even the men and women working in the Hangars, all were paying attention to the words coming from the electronic devices in their vicinity. While it was basically standard protocoll, it was still a matter of importance.

"As you know we have been tasked with a patrol routine around the outer ends of our solar system. It is of upmost importance that any suspicious activity discovered on said patrol needs to be reported immedeately to the bridge. How we proceed from there depends on the decision of myself and High Command.".

A Brief pause.

"And it is also important that any equipment for the mission, be it the tools needed, the weapons of our vessel or the mobile suits in our hangars, needs to be fully functional and operational in case it comes to a situation.".

A small and weak chuckle could be heard.

"But I am certain that the crew of this ship more than capable of fulfilling these tasks with vigor and skill.".

The sound of a throat being cleared could be heard.

"This has been your captain. Over and Out!".

An older man of wide shape slumped down into his chair, deflating himself like a balloon. It was clear to Ail Merry that being the captain of a ship like this is no small feat in a unit such as Neo Londo Bell, but the assignments have taken a toll on the patience of the burly old man. While aware that the unit focuses more on internal affairs and upholding of spacial order, especially in comparison to its ancient predecessor, the Titans, it was still incredibly boring in this day and age. There has not been any real military activity needed since the establishment of the new federation, but for some godforsaken reason, the same organisation thought it was a good idea to send people on patrol. 'Just in case', they would say to him, probably in a complicated manner as well.

In short, space has become boring since peace was achieved. And for someone like Ail, this was perhaps a form of Hell. Said captain would let out a bored sigh at the thought of this fact. And by God, he missed an actual decent bed right now.

He took a look at his watch. It was 10:00 PM in Amsterdam time right now. Perhaps he should go to bed for the day. It was then that he began to yawn.

"Please excuse me, but I think I'm going to take a rest.", he says. His crew turns to him to look. They exchange understanding nods. Ail then adds: "If there is anything, feel free to wake and inform me immediately.". And with that, he left the bridge, seeking the subpar comfort of the bed of his quarters.

After a tedious walk through the many corridors of the ship, something that someone of his age considers a herculian task, he finally reached his room after passing the second corridor. Inside, the room was spacious, but also filled with furniture that would not feel out of place of humanity's victorian era. He was a sucker for the aesthetic, after all. However, the drawn pictures, which seem to originate from a child, clash with the aesthetic in their nature. Not that it bothers the good captain. Anything his daughter draws back on Side 6 is worth showing, after all. She was all that he has left there, and he wants nothing more than be there when she becomes the great woman he always thought she would become. Finally, he made himself ready to hit the hay. With one last thought left, he dedicates it to wishing his daughter back home a good night. And with that, he went into the realm of dreams.

[ACHTUNG]

Hello, my love.

It's been so long.

I am never gone.

Not so long our daughter is with you.

I miss you so much.

It feels like eternity without you here.

I am sorry for leaving you like this.

But, always remember.

Remember our promise.

What?

Remember our Promise.

Almost like a statement.

Remember our Promise.

But to whom?

Remember our Promise.

What kind of Promise?

REMEMBER OUR PROMISE.

I cannot fulfill a promise I never agreed to!

Then...

[XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX]

<<<<<<<<<YOU WILL REGRET THIS LATER.>>>>>>>>>>>

[XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX]

[零]

Two knocks. Two knocks. Two knocks. And it never stopped.

Finally, Ail snapped awake. His senses were screaming right now. And he has no idea why. Eventually, he registered the knocks coming from his door. "The door is not locked. come in.", he exclaimed, loudly. Into his room came a young woman, her blonde hair sticking out like a sore thumb, especially in contrast to the muted colors of the uniform. It was none other than Barbra Rossa, one of the people working on the bridge. She looked concerned.

"Sir.", she began.

Ail was now full awake, the tone of his subordinate having rattled the last of his sense. His expression switched back to that of a ship's captain: serious and focused.

"What is it?", he asked.

Barbra took a small breath. She seemed to be on edge.

"We have found something.".

[Oh? A visitor?]

"A ship?".

Ail, in his many years as captain, should not feel surprised over this simple fact. Starships are everywhere in this day and age, even if they are a bit rare to ecounter on the outer ends of the solar system. This would have been nothing but trivial information for someone like him. What could have been more urgent to interrupt his sleep for should have been a hostile attack or an attack by space pirates, but these things became rare in the last decades.

Despite all of this, something did not feel right about this whole situation.

"Yes, sir!", one of the bridge crew members exclaimed.

"Unidentifiable model, sir!", another one added with the same militant tone.

The cameras of the ship zoom in on the unknown vessel.

It looked like it has seen better days. The hull was falling apart, the color of white, black and red was slowly muting and chipping away, it seemed to just drift across the emptiness of space like a piece of garbage in the sea. In summary, it was more a wreckage than a ship.

Nonetheless, he knew he needed to adhere to protocol.

"Any signs of life detected on the vessel?", he asked.

Another crew member turned around. It was Barbra. She still looked concerned.

"Two life signals, sir!", she said. "However, they are weak. Also, the ships shows high levels of radiation. There is a possibility the ship's reactor might have leaked. How should we proceed?", she added.

Captain Ail stroke his chin, which made him also stroke the beard he was growing out since his shaving cream died. He pondered over what to do next. Eventually, he came to a conclusion.

"We will proceed with a full-scale rescue operation. Bring any space-capable hazmat suit we have and ready a pair of mobile suits for deployment.", he declared to his crew. He then adds: "Oh, and make sure to bring extra for whomever is in this ticking time bomb of a vessel. Additionally, tell medbay they should ready all equipment for anything related to radiation. God knows the people from this ship need it!". He took a long breath. "Is that clear?".

"Yes, Sir!", the crew shouted.

May whatever is in the Heavens have mercy on the poor souls trapped on this dying beast of a ship.

[THIS SPACE IS LEFT INTENTIONALLY BLANK]

From the ramps of the ship, two unarmed RGM-212Xs GM Freedom took off. Inside their cockpits were their pilots, equipped with the hazmat suits they were ordered to wear, in addition of a spare suit for whatever is on board of this ship. They approach the target in a relatively short time. When they arrived, their comms activated to reveal the captain's voice.

"You have permission to use the mobile suit to make yourself an opening, but make sure to not damage the hull too much. Our scanners indicate that the ship still has some air left inside. We do not want them to suffocate and thus prolong their suffering even more. Good luck.".

The first pilot to reach the target was a young lass by the name of Cheda Cheise. She made it known with "Pilot Cheda Cheise has reached the target! Commence with the safe break-in!". opening her cockpit, she flew out of it to reach the hull. Quickly activating the suit's built-in jetpacks, she stabilized herself before reaching the damaged frame. From her tool kit, she pulled out a tool that looked a lot like a beam saber. With a flick of a switch, it activated. BWUUUIP, made the little tool, and a blade of energy formed itself. Cheda then jammed said blade into the hull and began to work.

Meanwhile, the pilot, a middle-aged man by the name of Borr Kopp, did the same thing opposite to where his comrade worked. However, instead of the beam tool that his peer was using, he used a more outdated metal saw. This was a choice of preference, as he believed that the use of beam tools might prove to be too hazardous in the long run.

Eventually, both managed to cut a hole into what looked like the cargo hold of the ship. Thankfully, the place seemed sealed from the rest of the ship. They wasted no time entering the place. They noticed the lack of light, indicating that the power on the ship was either out or running on emergency batteries. Either way, this does not spell good will for whoever is trapped in here.

After some short exploring, the door to the room was discovered. It somehow looked high-tech and brutalist at the same time. What they also noticed from activating the flashlights on the suits is that everything seems to be decaled with text and numbers. From what they could decipher, the language switches between Standard German and Chinese. It almost gave the whole place a dystopian feel, as Cheda noted to herself. Borr, meanwhile, wasted no time and used the crowbar he took out of his backpack to pry open the door. Eventually, the door opened itself. Streams of air shot out into the empty space. Both investigators pushed through the stream to enter what looked like a gallery and forced the door shut itself again. Better not waste any more air, after all.

Noticing the stairs, they wordlessly agreed to climb them up to whatever is upstairs. Once they reached the higher gallery, they noticed that the room had four doors. This proved to be a problem.

Borr slapped Cheda's shoulder. Through their comms, he asks: "Do you have the tracker with ya, lass?". Cheda wasted no time proving him, pulling out a small device from her backpack. With the press of a button, it activated. "Sure do, Borr, as you can see here.", she answered with a snarky tone. The device was a smaller lifeform tracker, developed around fifty years ago after a breakthrough regarding the effects of Minovsky Particles in the artificial atmosphere of the colonies was discovered. The devices showed two faint life signals, just like the bridge reported. The life signals came from the door that had 'NOTFALL' written on it. Cheda pointed to the door. Borr readied his crowbar.

After another forced opening, the room became accessable. Both pilots entered the room. They were not ready for what they found.

In the room laid a figure, feminine in stature, sprawled next to what looked like a giant coffin. Cheda wasted no time getting the rescue equipment and the suits out, while Borr took a closer inspection of the strange contraption. he noticed the dust it was covered in. With a swift motion, he removed it, and stared in shock of what he undusted.

This was not a coffin, this was a cryopod, like the ones in the movies!

And there was a person in the damn thing!

He pressed a button on his suit.

"Borr to bridge. There's a complication.".

The connection to the bridge has been established when he hears the voice of Barbra.

"Bridge to Borr, elaborate.".

Borr had to take a deep breath.

"One of the passengers is in what looks like a cryopod. Request back-up for safe excavation!".

This is about to become a very long evening for everyone involved.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter Text

[WAKE UP]

[PROZESS...]

[HOCHFAHREN...]

[WARNUNG: UNAUTORISIERTE MODIFIKATION ENTDECKT!]

[LAUFE DIAGNOSE...]

[DIAGNOSE ABGESCHLOSSEN!]

[MODELL: REPLIKA DER VIERTEN GENERATION]

[DESIGNATION: LANDVERMESSUNGS-/SCHIFF-TECHNIKER REPLIKA]

[CODENAME: LSTR-EINHEIT]

[SERIENNUMMER: 512]

[GESTALT-BASIS: //DIE ABSCHNITT IST ABSICHTLICH FREI//]

[STATUS DER PERSONA: DEGRADIERT]

[!FEHLER!]

[!FEHLER!]

[BEHEBUNG NICHT MÖGLICH!]

[ÜBERSCHREIBUNG...]

[STARTE ERWACHEN...]

[零]

Blue, sharp eyes open up to the sight of a white, metallic ceiling.

Under the groaning of a strained voice, a female figure pushes herself off the pillow her head laid its forced rest upon. The world around her was blurry, her artificial senses sedated, and her mind not yet aware of her location. From the looks of it, as Elster could at least judge at this point, she seemed to be somewhere that looked like a hospital. However, unlike the Eusan hospitals that carried the industrialist brutality of the architecture so known to her, this hospital seemed almost...futuristic. Metallic and advanced, almost like something that would be shown in a motion picture approved by the Nation. Finally, her senses and mind began to recover their full faculties. Now, Elster fully comprehends her surroundings, being able to register her unfamiliarity with it. But, more importantly, come to the realisation that she felt quite the headache right now. She groans in pain.

Two metallic hooves make contact with the equally metallic floor. Elster now felt a vibrating sensation. It was similar to how the Penrose moved, giving her a familiar feeling. From this connection alone, she could deduce that she was at least in something that moved in space, possibly a spaceship or a space station.

But this is odd, since there should be nothing in the direction where they were sent to complete their mission.

Questions of location aside, the headache finally calmed down. With her mind no longer occupied by the heavy drums of her artificial brain, she began to think about her previous predicament. The Revolutionary knows she needed it, after all.

She remembered that she was on the Penrose, the ship slowing falling apart around the 3000th cycle, Ariane getting poisoned by radiation to a lethal degree due to the ship falling apart, and putting her beloved partner in the cryopod to preserve her life. She could not remember anything else, her mind having slowly drifted into the abyss. However, she began to feel like she should remember something else. Something similar to experiences. Experiences she should not even have. Every time she tried to think deeper about, her head began to spin again. It almost felt like a nightmare on loop, and she had no idea why. Just what happened after the cryopod?

These question would have to wait, because a new wave of dread flushed over the mechanical back of the woman. A question of upmost importance, since it is tied to a promise she made before all of this. This was all tied to one question: Where is Ariane?

Quickly jumping onto her hooves, she began to wander to the door.

It opened itself, without any input.

Peeking carefully from its corners, Elster took a look into the corridors of her current whereabouts. The corridors shared the rooms' advanced and mechanical outline, being also more well-lit and brighter than what she was used to on the Penrose. The dissonance of colors was almost frightening to Elster. It made her realise that she has seen brighter colors like these rather sparingly, only truly being shown to her in Ari's paintings. It gave a feeling of familiarity and dread to the Replika.

Cautiously, she stepped into said corridor and began her advance, all to search for her love.

[YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE]

This was hard to process, as Captain Ail concluded in his head.

Not only did they find a ship that seemed out of place in every form or shape to the technology you would find in the solar system, but the ship still had someone on board. But who or, more precisely, what was on board made the day for the crew and their captain not only much more interesting, but also more mysterious and ominous. It was almost like the universe was punishing him for wanting some action in his life.

Firstly, he would not believe his ears when the rescue team told him about their findings. An android woman? A woman in a cryopod? Something like this could only be found in fiction, as Ail thought before. Little did he know that this assumption would be shattered when the mobile suits returned with the rescued victims of that coffin in form of a spaceship. Seeing the findings first-hand made him internally apologize for the dismissal from earlier.

Of course, he regained his bearings rather fast, ordering the medical team to take the cryopod and her stabilize whoever is inside of it as fast as they could. For the android, he also ordered a medical checkup, but also ordered the mechanic and engineering crew to come and take a look at her. God knows what this thing needed to survive, and Ail really did not want to have the lives of other on his hands today, be it organic or artificial life.

After a week, they managed to stabilize the both of them. However, the medics told him that the woman in the cryopod suffered under the heaviest effects of radiation poisoning, so they suggested to go through with the most extensive treatment they could do. He authorized it without question. At least for the android woman, they got the good news that she was stable and recovering, but she has not woken up yet. It was understandable that this was going to take time, and he hoped that when she wakes up, they could ask her about who she is and what happened to cause her and the other woman to end up like this.

Suddenly, the captain got snapped out of his internal thoughts by the beeping of his communication device in his chair. With a press of the button, he opened up a connection, the monitor above him also showing who called. It was Doctor Mira Farkin Cule, the ship's lead medic. She looked distressed.

"What is it, doctor?", the good captain asked.

The peaceful tone gave the medic some rest on the nerves, calming her a bit. For someone with such prestigious honors from her degrees, her inexperience and her youth seem to seep through like a leak in a dam, as Ail noted to himself. The doctor finally answered: "Captain, we have a situation!".

Eyebrow raised, Ail asked back: "In what ways?". The answer he was about to get was not what he was expecting.

"The android escaped the medbay!".

[OH NO]

She did not understand what made her run like this.

Perhaps it was she was feeling like a stranger in an unfamiliar land, or perhaps she was agitated by the sudden blaring of sirens that howled through the corridors. Either way, she began to rush around, frantically looking for the person she loved. Along the way, a strange voice began to bark stuff from the speakers, all in a language she was not familiar with.

"...and make sure she is not harmed!".

Around the second corner she turned around, she made her first ecounter with the occupants of this ship. They seem to be Gestalts, wearing uniforms she does not recognize. These uniforms seem to be neither tied to the Nation or to the Empire, which further confuses the magpie. These uniformed people, one male, two female, shouted something in that same cryptic language.

"Catch her!".

With a quick move, she u-turned and ran away from them, taking a turn around a different corner. Eventually, she reached a crossing point, with many different paths pointing in different directions, all labeled with signs she could not understand. Upon hearing people approaching, she swiftly chose the middle path and continued to run.

Medbay.

Even while running, she got that strong feeling that she was going the right way, even if she did not know the place. Perhaps this was this gut feeling Ariane and her once talked about one night in bed. The sense of knowing with your heart instead of your brain, as her beloved had called it. It intrigued Elster. Something like this should not be possible, but perhaps she should be more open to impossible stuff at the moment since her predicament was something that could be considered impossible. Finally, she stopped at another door.

Room 512.

Hearing the unknown forces approaching once again, she hastily opened the door and closed it behind her.

Upon inspection, she saw the familiar white hair lying in front of her.

[THIS SPACE IS LEFT INTENTIONALLY BLANK]

"Are you sure she is in there?".

The captain asked another crewmember about the whereabouts of the android, and the answer always remained the same: She seemed to have found her way into the other medical room with the other patient. But what made this feel muddy to him is how impropable this feels in the greater picture, since he is sure the android would probably not know the layout of the ship.

For this, he has to suspect that something more sinister is going on.

"Yes, sir! How should we proceed?", the crewmember on the channel asked.

Captain Ail pondered for a moment.

"Make sure to detain and restrain her, but do not let her come to harm. We need to have questions answered, so prepare an interrogation room. Understood?".

He could hear a firm "Yes, sir!" before the channel closed.

May God help us all.

[ICH LIEBE DICH]

Assembled in front of the door to the secondary medbay stood a group of fourteen crewmembers. Some of them were armed, but knew that the order was to detain, so it was mostly a tool for compliance. The other crewmembers did not bring any weapons, as they were called on a hasty notice.

One soldier was gesturing to the other ones for attention. He began to sign some commands with his hand, laying out how they would proceed. Said hand then began to count down from five, to four, to three, to two, to finally one.

With one swift "Go!", they stormed the medbay.

"Freeze!", one soldier shouted.

They all halted in place.

[X]

The android laid next to the woman with the white hair, gently caressing her cheek. Said android seemed to be on the verge of tears, which was something that was unexpected to see for a machine to do. Finally, they noticed the lack of arms on the being, and the sorrowful breathing that could be heard even from afar.

It was a serene sight, yet it also made for a tragic image.

There was going to be many questions answered at the end of this day...

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[X]

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of ticking fills the small, windowless, rectangular room with uneasy ambience.

Inside this room, a certain Replika listened vigilantly. Her artificial ears twitched in rythm to the ticking, almost as if she was being in sync with the sound itself. Her eyes remained closed, her mechanical arms crossed, and her face in the same neutral expression a generic gestalt would expect an LSTR unit to have. She was currently all alone, the only company being the large mirror adorning the wall to her own right, and the handcuffs that tie her down to the room by a rope. She knew exactly what kind of room this was, but she was already compromised as it is, so anything funny would bode not well for her.

After a while, her mind began to drift away from the ticking.

What have I gotten us into, Ariane?

shhh-FHK!

Elster gets snapped out of her thoughts when the single door to the room she is in slides open, revealing an elderly, heavyset man. Said man then stepped into the room, avoiding eye contact until he finally sat down on the chair that was on the other side of the small table. His hat indicates that he was some sort of captain, likely the captain of wherever she and Ariane were currently on. His expression was stoic, as one would expect from a hardened captain. He coughs.

He speaks up. "Good evening.", he said. His gaze remains on the Replika.

What?

Elster looked confused.

What kind of language is that?

"Not going to speak up, lass?", the captain asked.

Shit.

"The silent type, aren't ye?", he continued.

Oh, fuck it. I'll just say something.

"Anything, hmm?", he said.

Elster took a short breath. "Mein Name is Elster.", she said.

The captain's eyebrows rise up. Now it was his turn to look confused. "Oh.", he simply lets out. He raises a finger and gets out of the chair, making his way to the door. "One moment.", was the last thing he said before he disappeared behind the door. Elster took this moment to focus on what was being said behind the door, still remaining in her place.

'Ask the crew if any of them know german.'

A pause.

'Preferrably in multible dialects.'

[零]

After a while, the captain returned to the room, but this time, he came in presence of company. It was a blonde woman of average stature, wearing a white labcoat over a simple blue one-piece dress, adorned with a black belt around the waist. Elster, upon laying her electronic eyes on her, admits to herself that she looks kind of attractive.

With an additional chair in tow, they sat down again.

"Okay, let us do this once more. Properly.", the captain said, slightly exasperated.

After swiftly recomposing himself, he begins to talk once more. "Good evening", he said to the Replika. "Guten Abend.", the blonde followed up on her captain.

Elster's face slightly twitched at the sound of a familiar language. "Hallo.", she said. Her voice remained deep and monotonic.

"My name is Captain Ail Merry, and you are currently on my assigned ship.". "Mein Name is Kapitän Ail Merry und du bist auf meinen zugewiesenen Schiff.".

Elster pondered. So he is the captain. Since she now knows they can understand her, she has some questions. "Wer seid ihr, und warum ist mein Gestalt-Offizier nicht mehr in ihrer Kryo-Kapsel?", she asks.

The blonde near-whispers the translation to her captain, who raises an eyebrow.

"Her state was critical, as was yours, so we did the humanitarian thing and saved your lives.", Ail said. The blonde, almost organically, follows up with a translation. "You can thank the talented Doctor Barbra Rossa, who also works on the bridge sometimes, and her colleagues for this.", he adds. Barbra, slightly flustered by the compliment, continues to translate.

Elster then turned to look at her directly again. A small smile appears on her lips. "Danke.", she said with more content than she wished to convey.

Ail turned to Barbra. "What did she say?", he asked her. Barbra smiled. "She was thanking me.", she replied with a slight blush on her face.

Ail just rolled his eyes. Of course the good doctor would start crushing on an attractive lady, even if said attractive lady is artificial. Would not be the first time this happened.

Regardless, he put his focus back on their strange visitor. "Aside from that, we have been waiting for either of you to wake up, so you could tell us what happened to make you both end up in an irradiated death trap.". His voice was focused, and the question legitimately intruiged him.

Elster was unsure how to proceed from here.

Since the moment she was brought online, she was repeatedly indoctrinated into never revealing the secrets of the nation, especially in enemy territory. Her Gestalt Basis also seemed to follow this kind of protocol. And she admits to herself, it would be easier to just say nothing. However, she then remembered that she was assigned the Penrose Program, as many LSTR unit were. And it was indirectly the Nation's fault for getting them into this mess in the first place. Elster was not sure how to feel about this trail of thought. On one hand, it felt unique, something that was shaped by her own emotional conclusions rather than those influenced by someone else. On the other, it made her fearful. Fearful that it would spell an even worse fate for her and Ariane, since these thoughts would count as high treason to the Nation.

But the Nation was not here. And that thought creeped up Elster's mind like a worm, uninterested in leaving. It also helps that she did not recognize the uniform of that captain as anything Eusian, which just opens a whole other can of worms for the Replika to investigate later. If she gets the chance to investigate, of course.

So, to come to a conclusion to herself, she decides to talk.

She begins to talk about herself, what she is and what she was made to do. She talks about Ariane, but never mentions their relationship, unsure over how they would react to that. She at least made it clear that she means a lot to her, and she hopes that these people understand that. She talks about the Penrose, the program it was made under and what its objective is. She mentions the Eusian Nation, but quickly changes to talking about the journey she and Ariane went through. All the cycles that passed, and how the ship began to fall apart after so long, which not even her mechanical expertise could full prevent. She tells them how the leaking reactor began to affect them, how it was slowly killing them. She explained the cryopod and how it was used in an desperate attempt to save Ariane's life after 3000 cycles of this hellish odyssey. And finally, she talked (more like vented out) how her own body gave up not long after, unable to do anything, unable to stop the nightmare around her. How it made her feel powerless. How it made her feel worthless.

Worthless, as people like her and Ariane would be in the eyes of their so-called homeland. It made Elster's mechanical stomach turn. She almost felt like vomiting.

She looked at her interrogators in dreaded anticipation, unsure of their reaction.

They seemed shocked.

The captain finally spoke up, his voice noticably softer. "I am sorry you had to go through all of this. Elster, was it?". It seems this was one of the few things he understood at the very beginning of the interrogation. After Barbra translated again, Elster nodded. He then gestured to the mirror. Moments later, two armed men stepped into the room, one holding a key. Said man then used the to unlock and remove Elster's handcuffs, freeing her.

"You are not hostile, so the cuffs were no longer necessary.", the captain said as Barbra translated. "I will discuss how we proceed from here with some of my superiors. In the meantime, you are allowed to roam the ship as an official passenger. However, you will be ranked as a civilian, which means you cannot access the areas only meant for personnel. Do you understand?".

Elster nodded robotically.

She understood.

[AFTERWARDS...]

Captain Ail and Barbra were walking down a corridor, having long concluded the interrogation that confirmed the artificial individual, who they found out is named Elster, is non-hostile. Ail was thinking. Barbra was observing him. They pass some crewmembers along the way, who have since been updated about the current situation.

After a while, Barbra spoke up. "Do you think we did the right thing?", she asked.

Ail snapped out of his trance, looking at her. "What do you mean?", he retorts.

"She could be some spy for some shady organisation. That is all I am saying!", she replies.

A rumbling sound escapes the captain. "Perhaps.", he says. "But, at the same time, no spy would willingly and slowly kill themselves in radiation, so I at least give her the benefit of the doubt.", he continued to add. He then points that the door they pass, which has the number 512 on it. It was the room where Ariane was being treated. "No one would go this far for one person without a good motive. I believe her to the extend that the circumstances they were in were beyond their control. Anything else, we must ask her romantic partner.", he adds.

Barbra looked at him with shock. "You think they are romantically involved?", she nearly shouted. Ail made a gesture to signal that she should control her tone.

He chuckled. "It was pretty obvious in the way she described her. Lying and carressing her in the medbay when we captured her was also a dead giveaway.", he said. He could swear to see a pang of disappointment on Barbra's face.

He pats her back. "Come now, don't be disappointed, doctor!", he softly said to his peer. "There are still many fishes in the sea. You will find the right woman eventually.", he said with a soft smile. 

Barbra smiled back. "Thanks, captain.", she thanked him with.

Ail looked away from her, smile still there. "Anyway, anything else reg-".

BOOM!

The ship begins to shake violently, with Ail and Barbra being being thrown off-balance immediately. The corridors begin to light up in red colors. A profound siren sound is played from all the speakers present.

"What the?!", Ail exclaims as he reeled from the sudden shake-up. Almost like on cue, his communicator beeps up, which he answers quickly. "Bridge, status report!", he shouted.

A young male voice could be heard from the other side. Said male voice was suppressing his panic in his tone. "Sir, we are under attack! Unknown Spacecruiser has enacted hostile action against us!".

Moments later...

Ail and Barbra arrived on the bridge, with the latter taking her designated position there. The captain also hastily placed himself into his chair, looking on edge at the moment. He was quietly cursing to himself for wishing for some excitement earlier.

"Anything from our attackers?", he sternly asks.

The young man from before, who goes by the name of Woak Plenk, turned around. "No communication channels established, sir! They seem to actively refuse any contact to us!", he answers.

Another member of the bridge crew turned around to add in. It was an older woman with dark green hair, her lips adorned with lipstick. She looked at her captain with a dire expression. "However, they left us a message in form of a text. Permission to show it to you, sir?".

With a nod, she did exactly that.

Barbra's eyes went wide.

ACHTUNG!

HIERMIT HABEN SIE EINE UNVERWEIGERLICHE ERKLÄRUNG DER FEINDSCHAFT GEGENÜBER DER EUSIANISCHEN NATION GEGENÜBER GEBRACHT.

UNTER ORDNUNG DER GROßEN REVOLUTIONÄRIN WIRD DIESES SCHIFF IN BESITZ GENOMMEN. JEGLICHER WIDERSTAND GEGEN DIESE AKTION WIRD ALS AKT GEGEN DIE NATION ANGESEHEN UND MIT GEWALT BESTRAFT. ALSO VERSUCHT ES ERST NICHT MAL!

IM NAMEN UNSERER GLORREICHEN NATION SEID IHR JETZT FESTGENOMMEN!

HEIL DER GROßEN REVOLUTIONÄRIN!

Ail's face darkens.

This is going to end badly for us, doesn't it?

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[X]

This was unexpected.

Unexpected and bad.

Captain Ail began to feel the cold, crawling feel of dread on his shoulder. Not only were they being threatened by an unknown vessel, said vessel seems to be tied to the passengers in some way. The message they got made both of these points abundantly clear.

Ail could not help but feel that this whole situation felt like a déjà vu to him. The history files did mention such situations a lot, especially during the early decades of the Universal Century. And, just like the captains of these times, he will be left with the toughest of choices.

Someone began to speak up. It was Rick Shead, one of the communications officers. "Captain. With all due respect, I think we should hand them over!", he said. Some other crewmembers began to murmur and nod in agreement.

Ail frowns at the blunt suggestion. "What mozivates you to suggest that, mister Shead?", he sternly asks. The whole thing baffles him. It does not help his already stressed and strained nerves.

Rick looked at his captain in slight surprise. "It is obvious that this whole thing was rigged! They could have been spies, for all we know!", he barely tries not to shout, as shouting at his superior can get him into trouble.

Ail tried to process his peer's argument. Unfortunally, he does not get the chance to follow up on that pondering, because doctor Barbra rose from her own station. She looked at the communications officer with disgust. "Seriously?! The both of them were basically deader than dead when we found them! A spy would not subject themselves to such a hellish situation! What is wrong with you?!", she accused the man. She turns to her captain. "Captain. Ail. You cannot seriously accept such a asinine reason, right? They are patients right now!". She began to sound more pleading. "Remember what she told us. Remember her eyes.".

Ail recalled. Those eyes. Those tired eyes. They seemed to have witnessed a hellish eternity. One brought upon by a chain of events, starting with the earliest events in that white-haired woman's life, as he can deduce from what the android woman told us.

Rick rolled his eyes. "You cannot serious believe that this whole sob story, which I think what you seem to refer to, is not a fabricated lie to make it easier to deceive us?!", he directed at the doctor, giving her a glare. "You are so naive and overly trusting, woman!".

Perhaps he should not have said that, as it seemed to have broken any pretense of civility between them when the doctor's voice became a raging shout. She calls him a coldhearted idiot who only seems to think of himself. He calls her a delusional womanchild who has no picture of the world's reality. It eventually devolved into a flurry of insults.

This childish back-and-forth continued for a little bit, which began to eat on Ail's nerves. Probably more than the hostage situation. But, deep down, it also reminds him a little bit of his own daughter and her tantrums. He smiles in his mind.

However, he reaches a point where intervenence was necessary. With a loud stomp of his foot, he manages to get the attention of the bickering crewmembers. With a tone that felt as fatherly as it was authorative, he says: "Will you two stop this childish display this instant?". When their own words died down, he lets out a sigh. "I am taking both your points into consideration, but the decision ultimately is mine to make! Until then, we have to negociate for some more time to decide.", he explains. He looks at Rick and makes a gesture. "Since we now have a message from them, we can decipher how send one back. If we managed to accomplish that, we can request for some time to come to a conclusion.", he elaborates to his officer. He then gives him a sterner look than already present. "Is that clear, officer Shead?".

Rick nods, but grumbles under his breath.

Ail lets out a long sigh as he deflates into his chair.

This is all too much, even for a captain, he laments to himself silently. However, there is something else bothering him, and it has everything to do with the reason for the whole debacle they are. Why? A question most important. Why would they go through the trouble to retrieve them? He frowns in deep thought, his forehead wrinkling from the motion. From what important information the android has told us about this 'Project Penrose', this was basically a one-way trip. The only thing they could have used to get them to their location was salvaged for parts to keep their flying coffin barely functional a little while longer. Unless...

The realization slowly dawns upon him. He takes a strong breath, his eyes go wide. There might be something not even they know about this whole thing!

[IN THE END, YOU SOLELY BELONG TO US]

One Week Ago...

Aboard a Donnerverschlinger-Class Spacial Warship, a middle-aged woman made her way through the dim halls of the vessel. Her shoulders held her mantle like cape while her head adorned the headwear of a commanding official, her arms behind her back. Her demeanor was imposing and dreadful, yet showed a sense of elegance and control, which could be very easily seen in the frown-like stare she had all the time. When she passed the lesser-ranked gestalt officers coming her way, her greater stature and said imposing expression resulted in them shrinking into themselves out of fear. The same outcome could be observed from the Replikas that she passed. Be it EULR's, KLBR's, STCR's or STAR's, none of them wanted to be near her, and they had every reason for that. No one messes with Kommandant Kriemhild Kim, the woman who burned the Empire's hand.

Kriemhild entered the bridge with little fanfare, before taking in the surroundings. She growls. Without a word, she took her seat on the captain's chair. Her chair.

She continued to observe the crewmembers of the bridge. Gestalts were working on the navigation and steering of the ship, while a pair of STAR's stood guard on the doors. Minimal, and with little of Replikas, just as Kriemhild likes it.

She never understood why they had to create these false imitations of true gestalts for cheap labor. There are so many assets in the population already available! One politely forced inducement into the labor force and it would be done. But no, the Great Revolutionary thought it was a good idea to imitate the one annoyingly stupid thing these disgusting imperials had. A waste of resources, as she lamented. Resources that could have been better used elsewhere, like the military budget!

Suddenly, a voice snaps her out of her internal rant. It was a young male gestalt officer, the same one she just observed working on the communication side of the bridge. "Uhm...K-Kommandant Kim, S-Sir?". Kriemhild could see it, could hear it, all too clearly. Fear. The perfect tool for domination. Unfortunately, it is also the ultimate tool for foolishness in some cases.

She stands up, towering over her subject. "What is it.". The tone was raspy, slow and deep, with a strong hint of danger.

With shaking hands, the officer hands her a piece of paper. It seemed to contain coordinates. Kriemhild raises an eyebrow in fascination.

"Explain.", was all she said.

The officer's legs were starting to shake. "I-It seems to be t-the emergency retrieval signal o-of a LSTR Unit, S-Sir.", he attempts to explain. "A P-Penrose-assigned one, S-Sir!", he added.

The paper crumbles in her hands, spooking the much younger officer.

"How. Far. Away.". She punctuated every word with an increasingly threatening tone.

"M-Me-Merely a week away from o-our path, Sir!", he answers.

Kriemhild's already dark demeanor begins to darken even more.

This can only be the work of some imperials. It has to be! Only they would take their assets away from them in such a ballsy move!

"To your post, officer. Now.".

With a whimper, the officer ran back to his post. Kriemhild had the faintest smell of urine enter her nose. She cringes and frowns at the crude reaction. Pathetic.

Looking out the bridge's front window, she growls again.

"Take course to where the emergency retrieval signal comes from! Now!", she loudly ordered, which sprang her crew into doing just that, all of them looking a little bit scared.

Pathetic. All of them, just pathetic. Worthless, even.

She will tear apart whatever these dirty imperials have found, just to see their dissatisfaction of not getting their way.

And she will smile while doing so.

[YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.]

Present Day...

Kriemhild had a clear visual of the vessel that took the assets. It looked nothing like the warships of the Empire. In fact, it looks more advanced than whatever the Empire had. It even looks brighter, judging from the color scheme. It was a garish sight to the drab eyes of the Kommandant. Regardless, she was one to not let anything different deter her from doing what she believes is the correct course of action. This cannot be anything but an imperial ploy against the glorious nation. Probably done to mess with us, as she justifies it to herself.

One of the bridge crewmembers speaks up. "Sir, they are trying to communicate with us again! This time in form of a message!", he says. His eyes remained glued to the monitor.

Kriemhild raises an eyebrow. "What is the message, officer?", she asks with a threatening tone. Her eyes remain on the visual.

"They want more time to come to a decisive conclusion, Sir!", the officer replies.

Time?

They want Time?

Time for what?

A countermeasure, perhaps?

No, this cannot be allowed!

Kriemhild growls again. She growls whenever she has to deal with something she does not like, which is basically everything. And everything is always trying to interfere with her work in some form or way, anyway, so there is that.

"Send out a squadron of Sternentöter. I want this ship reduced to a pile of junk and scrap!", she suddenly ordered.

[X]

Moments before the first strike...

Ariane...

Elster sat beside the woman of her artificial heart, watching her unresponsive body with lament. Ever since she was released from custody, she holed herself in the room where they treated her love. Her expression remained as stoic as always, but one could make a hint of sadness in said expression. Sadness bound to a shared, tragic past.

I'm sorry...

I'm sorry that I could not fulfill the promise.

I'm so, so sorry...

Carefully, she began to reach out for her lovers' arm. Both arms, along with their hands, were turned into black and disfigured shells of their former self. Elster dreads that an amputation would be necessary to curb its further development. She fears the day Ariane wakes up and finds herself without arms and legs.

If only she did better for her.

If only she could have done something sooner...

Elster clenches the disfigured, black hand.

I hope that, when you wake up, you will forgive me.

Please, forgive me...

BOOM!

The entire ship begins to shake violently. The walls, the ground and even the ceiling vibrated in a chaotic rythm. And Elster was pulled into said rythm without a warning. Despite this, she still tried her best keeping the shake from harming Ariane in any way, keeping her motionless body in place.

Suddenly, the lights of the room go out and replace themselves with an ominous red light. A siren blares at full volume, the piercing sound reaching Elsters' mechanical ears. The door opens, but shows no sign of closing. It became very clear what is happening to Elster. A nagging, drumming feeling inside her head begins to creep up. Her senses become sensitive to everything, her sight begins to shift uncontrollably.

They were under attack. This is no longer a time of peace. This is now a war scenario, and Elster received the full brunt of how such a scenario feels like. And for an LSTR Unit, this is not good.

[ACHTUNG]

[PERSONA-DEGRADATION ERKANNT]

[SUCHE NACH KAMMER ANGEFORDERT]

This message. This annoying message, originally meant to keep her from reaching such a state before it was too late, became a nuisance in Elsters' head. Stumbling out of the medical room, she aimlessly rushed through the halls of the ship, passing by the occasional crewmember, all of them seemingly being on different levels of edge. The headache of her internal systems reminding her of her current predicament did not help matters. In the panic and hectic around her, no one noticed her stumbling into the hangar. The gravity low around these parts of the ship, she began to drift aimlessly through the air, keeling over from the constant repetition of the same message. Her face showed nothing but agony, with no sign of ending anytime soon.

It then comes as a surprise when the air suddenly began to feel hotter, which seems to momentarily grab the attention of the magpie. She began to focus her sight on what is in front of her. What seems to be the origin of the heat source seems to be a giant mechanical being revving up its thrusters. Before Elster could form any coherent questions, she gets hit with a sudden and forceful gust of hot air, which violently sends her flying against a wall, with the first thing that comes into impact range being her head.

CRACK!

With a scream, Elster had hit her head on the hangar wall, hard.

BRRZKRKR

[A-A-A-A]

[F-FEHLER]

[F-F-F-F-E-E-E-E-HLER]

BRZRZZRRKWWwwww...

Depending on the Unit Type, Replikas are made to be tough enough to survive a blunt blow to the head, especially the ones that would be lethal to an average gestalt. Luckily for Elster, an LSTR Unit counts as one such unit. Regardless of that, it is not recommended to test ones' durability any further, as there is still a long list of things that can kill a Replika just as easily as it can kill a gestalt, or a human as the people on this call themselves. But right now, the message seems to have stopped bothering her.

As Elster comes back to her full senses, she notices that she was on the ceiling of the hangar, which gave her a very bird-like view of it. It seemed almost empty, now. In the moments where she stumbled her way around here, she did barely notice that it had these giant machines in them, but right now, there seems to be only one strange vehicle present. It looked like a huge jet, parked right around the corner, exactly where she vaguely saw one of the giant machines. It seemed to be partially covered by a giant blanket.

Elster pondered. 

[NO MATTER THE OUTCOME, DEATH COMES TO ALL]

Increasing their distance, a quartet of mobile suits planned to engage what seems to be a flock of brutalistic looking starfighters, vaguely shaped like a diving hawk. The quartet consists of two RGM-212X GM Freedoms, one CCMS-04 Stark Bugu and one RGM-89S Stark Jegan, with the former duo working themselves to the front row due to their higher speed and acceleration. It did not take long for them to get a visual of the unknown hostile target and its swarm.

"Gura Vity to Bridge! I now have full visual of the enemy! Sending live feed now!", said the female pilot of one of the GM Freedoms.

On the bridge, the visual of a massive, black ship becomes visible. Ail winces at the sight of this intimidating and depressing vessel. He once again questions what he did to deserve such a predicament.

Back in space, the mobile suits have finally engaged their targets, being bombarded with heavy fire from all sides while also trying to retaliate with their own fire. Gura managed to close in on the enemy ship and began to swirl around it, evading gunfire and Sternentöter closing in on her. When her targeting system gives her the go to fire the triple missile pods, she tried to pull the trigger without hesitation. But she could not. Her mind began to be flooded with imagery and words in a language she could not understand, causing her unimaginable pain. Luckily for her, getting hit in her mobile suit's leg causes her to mostly regain her senses, quickly retaking the controls and flying away from her supposed target.

A voice on her communications link begins to shout at her. "What the hell was that, Gura?!", came from Cheda Cheise, who seemed annoyed. The voice of her comrade helped her regain the rest of her senses.

Panting, Gura replied: "I...Do not know, Cheda. One moment, I had a target lock-on. The next, I felt like I was somewhere completely else, somewhere agonizing.".

A huff comes from the channel. "Well, don't go Shizo on us like that again, okay? We are still under fire!", her comrade shouted. Gura groans as she rejoined them in their corner of the battlefield.

The battle between the strange vehicles continued. The mobile suits managed to down some of the machines, but others began to take their flying patterns, almost robotically. It was almost like they were fighting either funnels or full-on machines. Borr lamented that the use of funnels has been outlawed in the military since the beginning of the 400s of the Universal Century, since they could really use that pseudo-psychic mumbo jumbo right now. This sentiment grew stronger when he began to be shaken around by his mobile suit, which had suffered a direct hit. Frantic beeping filled the cockpit. "I've been hit!", he shouts into the communications. Suddenly, he shouts, and his signal goes into a flickering state.

"Borr?", comes from Cheda.

"Borr!" shouted Sixel Mixel, the pilot of the Stark Bugu, who has been silent since launch.

"Borr, can you copy? Borr!", came from Gura.

"Bzzt...H-Lp...H-LPPP!", hissed it out from the channel.

Suddenly, a flashing, bright light. A life signal disappears from the monitors of the pilots. Borr was killed in action.

"Borr, no...", Cheda stammered out. In a bid of frustration, she began clenching her fist and pressing her teeth. Suddenly, she shouted into into the heavens. "You will PAY FOR THIS, YOU FUCKERS!", broke out of her mouth as she violent pushed the controls. Her GM Freedom began to dash forward at maximum speed, attacking and even crashing into any Sternentöter who could not evade in time, the reckless action causing her mobile suit to suffer heavy damage. "Cheda, NO!", came from both Gura and Sixel. Their own mobile suits began to catch up to her, evading and slicing at opponents coming their way.

Unexpectedly, the feeling from before began to appear in Gura, ripping her right back to place of agony. Unbeknownst to her, she is now not the only one suffering from this predicament, as Cheda and Sixel began to feel the same thing. Their mobile suits began to slow down since their pilots stopped using the controls, which causes them to be bombarded with gunfire. They desperately try to hold onto their reality, but the agony prevents them from regaining a grasp on their controls in any proper way. A leg gets blasted off the body of the Stark Jegan, the GM Freedom loses one half of its backpack, and the Stark Bugu's head gets blasted off its  handle.

[EVERY ACTION HAS A REACTION]

Elster has managed to jump her way back to the ships' ground, the lax gravity finally allowing her regain her footing. She swung herself to the strange jet, feeling a strange sense of pulling coming from it. Finally standing in front of it, she took in the size of the machine. She felt so small in comparison, as if she was staring into the eyes of a giant.

Getting closer to it, she grabbed onto the sheets that seemed to cover it up and pulled at them. Normally, sheets of this size would be hard to pull off of something, but due to the lax gravity around these parts, she had little problem doing what she wanted to accomplish. Now, she got a full visual of how it looks. The form was nothing like the jets you would see in the movies she and Ariane would always watch back on the Penrose. It almost seemed like a giant that was twisted into the form of a jet, which is also not helped by the strange head that was visible from under the nose.

Elster contemplates why she is even standing next to this thing.

What motivates her to even approach such a machine? Is it due to the magnetic feeling she is currently subjected to? Or is it something more, something she has yet to comprehend?

Then, she began to debate on what reason she should be even acting in such a manner. As far as she can tell, she is not even supposed to be here. She, alongside Ariane, are just passengers on a ship that they know nothing about, with the only thing keeping them here being that the latter cannot leave on her own volition, and Elster knows better than to do it for her. Additionally, she knows no way of leaving the ship as she has no idea what kind of stuff it even possesses.

However, another thought arises. This ship went out of its way to save them and to help them get better. The captain treated her with respect and showed no hostility towards her mislead action upon reawakening from her near-death slumber, even welcoming her like some harmless passenger. Their doctors went out of the way of treating the one thing that was killing Ariane, which is something Elster is eternally grateful for.

It becomes clear to her that while they seem to be strangers to her, these strangers showed more kindness towards her and Ariane than what has been shown to them from their own superiors and even the past. In conclusion, Elster realized that she basically owed them a huge debt for what they done for her and Ariane, one that she has to repay in any form or way out of the 'principle of the thing', as Ariane had explained to her once. So, Elster has made her choice.

After a quick search for something that looks like an entrance into the jets' cockpit, she managed to locate and enter it from the upper part of its chest area. Once inside,she got a good visual on the interior. The cockpit, unlike the one that she manned back on the Penrose, had a more spherical design, with the wall being adorned with what looks like to be monitors. She also noticed in surprise that the monitors stretch all the way around. In the center of it was a chair surrounded and adorned with panels, controls and buttons, which naturally leads her to seek it out since she wants to take off.

Looking over the controls, Elster felt out of her depth. This is nothing new to her, as she has been out of her depth before. Mostly in regards to how a romantic relationship works, as she was not trained or programmed with any prior knowledge in that regard. However, just like that situation, every issue has a solution, and the solution for her current problem comes in the form of a manual that was stowed away behind the chair. She felt another quake, likely from the continued attack on the ship.

In record speed, she read through the it all. The technical inner workings, the tools this machine possessed, the layout of the controls and commands she had access to, basically everything technical to know about this machine, including its name: the RGZ-91 Re-GZ. The only thing left to do now was pressing the ignition button, whic Elster does without hesitation. [X]

The monitors sprang to life, showing her the jets' outside surroundings. With the push of another button, she closed the hatch that lead out of the machine. The motors began to howl and vibrate, signalling that the machine is ready to move. With a nod to herself, Elster grabs onto the controls located directly on the handles of the chair, pulling on them.

The Jet began to move, which alerted the few crewmembers who were actually present at the hangar the whole time. They immediately began to  get out of the way when the machine moved in their direction, before it swerved its way to the closed hangar door. It just stood there, almost like it was waiting for the door to be opened.

Meanwhile on the bridge...

Ail was still observing the development of the battle with a strained expression. He was shocked over how they are losing right now. However, once he took the time to think about it, it made sense that they were losing. They knew nothing of the enemy, not even their weapons. Still, this negative development did him no favors, especially in regards to his nerves.

Suddenly, the communication link on his chair began to beep. It was a call from the Hangar Team. He then pressed the button to open the channel. "What is it, Hangar Team?", he asked with a tone that was trying to hide how much his nerves were strained.

"Sir, the Re-GZ is trying to leave the hangar without authorization!", came from the channel.

Ail was baffled. "What?!",  came out of his mouth.

Suddenly, another call from a crewmember. Once more, he took the call and opened a channel. "Sir, the android woman is missing!", he said.

It took Ail not an ounce of thinking to put two and two together.

What is she trying to accomplish, here?!

In an instant, the bridge began to shake again. The attack on the ship continued, and his men are still incapacitated and in danger of being killed like Borr, as it became clear to the good captain. He began to think.

Whatever the andoid, Elster, is planning to do might either be for our benefit or our doom. Grrr, such a gamble should not be allowed at all!

Suddenly, it clicked in his head. It really was a gamble to make, one the captain has to be the one to make the choice in the end. And he hated every minute of it, since it only serves as a way putting his crew's life on the line. However, he knew he had no real choice in the end, so, he made his choice.

"Let her go.", he bluntly answers back through the channel.

"But, Sir!", came as a retort.

"That's an order!", he shouted back.

He slumps into his chair, defeated once again.

I put my trust into you, android. Do not betray it. The haunting of your soul I will subject you to will put your previous predicament and your dreams to shame!

---

Back in the hangar, the door began to open. Elster looked at what transpired with a confused look, but then saw that the monitor had a message. 'You have the go!', it messaged.

Wasting no time, she retook her position and pulled the levers.

"Re-GZ, taking off!".

With a sudden jerk from pressure that pushed her back, Elster saw the jet launch out through the visual feed. When she was certain to be completely outside the ship, she pressed another button. The jet began to change in shape, taking on a more humanoid appearance. The head, now full visible, began to flare up its 'eyes', glowing green with fighting intent. With another pull on the lever on the chair, the now fully transformed mobile suit began to accelerate, ready to join the others on the battlefield.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2...

[X]

Chapter Text

[X]

There is an old saying regarding the spacial environment.

"In space, no one can hear you scream.".

Right now, this notion of absolute silence rang false in the mind of Elster.

Massive amounts of G-force pressed against her entire being, pushing her into the seat she currently used to hold her frame. The grip on the controls began to feel as if heavy boulders were squashed on top of them. Her eyes desperately attempt to do the faintest of blinking motions, but the force keep her artificial eyelids buried away. That same force has added itself to the force she exuded on the grit of her teeth, clenching with such power that it threatened to shatter them entirely. Right now, she realized how much she was out of her depth regarding the machine she was piloting, but she did not regret the decision. In a fight or flight situation, a LSTR Replika always chooses fight, or at least a tactical retreat to make sure to be prepared for the next confrontation.

Through the screens that seem to extend all the way around the spherical cockpit, Elster could observe the enemy forces circling around her just as much as she did circle around them. The Sternentöter space fighters are, to Elster's limited knowledge, a recent development, specifically designed for more complex interstellar combat, something that cannot be achieved with just a spacial warship. Despite this, she felt like she was moving faster than them, accelerating with surprising grace and precision. It is almost as if the machine she was piloting was reading her mind and her intentions. Elster was not sure what exactly it was, but she did not really have time for that at the moment. with some pushes on the seat's levers, she dodged a barrage of missiles that the sensors have picked up.

Flying with impossible grace, just like an actual bird. This is how Elster felt piloting this strange machine right now. She was making her namesake proud with her piloting skills.

Another barrage of missiles and gunfire was evaded, which Elster repays with gunfire of her own. With a blinchik maneuver any jet pilot would be proud of, she repays her attacker by turning his machine into swiss cheese. The bullets of her machine penetrate the hull of the Sternentöter like a knife with a block of butter, causing the same machine to give out and explode.

Somewhere else, from the monitors of the bridge, Ail's eyes go wide.

Somewhere else, from the cameras of their mobile suits, Cheda and Sixel looked with surprise.

Elster inspects the radar. One down, seven fighters left. She pushed a button on the lever attached to her chair.

With that simple push of a button, the machine began to change in shape. Its front transformed into something humanoid, while its back formed something resembling legs. And from the center, a head reminiscient of a samurai emerges, the cameras shaped like eyes igniting with light. And holding in its hands, a rifle. [X]

With not a second to spare, the mobile suit aimed said rifle upwards, the mechanical eyes sharp with focus. From the cockpit, Elster locked on on the targets, finger waiting to pull the trigger. When the monitor signaled a locked-in target, the finger pressed with little hesitation. A powerful, purple beam escapes the massive weapon.

With little warning, the last thing the pilot of the Sternentöter saw was a purple light quickly approaching. It engulfed him completely. An explosion could be seen on Elster's monitor.

Six.

Moving the weapon around, the system locks onto another target, and with another press of the trigger, that target got reduced to dust.

Five.

She noticed the other mobile suits moving in, probably to assist her, and she adjusted the position enough to stand back-to-back with them. The Re-GZ, the GM Freedom, the Stark Jegan and the Stark Bugu formed a circle, readying their rifles and guns. Their systems began locking onto the remaining targets, who were all closing in on them. And once more, triggers were pulled.

BOOM!

Four.

BOOM!

Three.

BOOM!

Two.

BOOM!

One.

BOOM!

Zero.

After the maneuver was completed, all the remaining Sternentöter were reduced to rubble in the vast emptiness of space. However, the feeling of relief that should have come for anyone involved was thrown out of the window when the radar picked another heat signature, one that was rapidly approaching. Too fast.

Guras' eyes go wide in horror. "NUKE!", she screamed through her communicator. Everyone took this as a sign to scatter as fast as possible.

Flying away in all directions, the mobile suits get cought in a violently rattling shockwave. From the monitors, the only thing they could see was a blinding light.

[X]

"Target confimation?".

Aboard the bridge of the Donnerverschlinger, Kommandant Kriemhild watched the harrowing light dissipate with faint interest. The rest of the bridge crew was working on getting an answer to her question, fearing the consequence of not fulfilling it at all. Finally, one of the crewmembers, a communications officer, turned around after having messed with the controls in front of him.

"No targets identified, ma'am!".

Kriemhield smiled wickedly.

"Excellent.".

[X]

"Hey, Elster.", came from the doorframe to the sleeping quarters.

Elster, who was currently working on a piece of equipment that needed fixing, looked up to where the voice came from. It was Ariane who stood at the open door, who smiled at the Replika when their gaze met. Elster, likewise, smiled back.

"What is it, Ari?", the replika asked.

Ariane playfully approached Elster before gesturing her to make room for herself to sit down next to her on their shared bed. Elster understood the subtile command with little issue and moved over. Ariane sat down, the soft mattress getting weighted down by her body.

"Just an odd question, that is all.", the white-haired woman responded with a hint to embarrassment.

Elster chuckled in a subdued manner.

"Nothing you ask is odd from what I understand, dear.", the Replika replied.

Now it was time for Ariane to chuckle, but unlike Elster, it was more overt and loud.

"I know, I know. But, really, it is kind of a weird question.", she gave her.

Elster raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, but still, I'm all ears.", the Replika assured her.

Ariane moved around until she could lay herself down on the Replika's mechanical thighs. She seemed unfazed by the hardness of the material, continuing to look her love in the eyes. She smiled.

"What would you put on your very own bucket list?", she innocently asked.

Elster raised an eyebrow in surprise and confusion.

"That is...an odd question.", she bluntly says.

Ariane pouted.

"I know it is, but seriously, could you answer it for me, please?", she childishly directed at Elster.

Elster huffed in amusement.

"If you want, but I will want to know what the reason for this question is, afterwards. Okay?".

Ariane nodded.

[X]

Her head felt like a drum that got violently hammered on.

Elster's eyes slowly opened up, trying to regain any sense she could currently muster up. She was still in the cockpit, which seemed unharmed and thus gave her a momentary sense of relief. However, that fleeting releif dissipated swiftly when she noticed that the monitors were offline. She had no visual feed and thus not a clue what was going on outside. However, being the technician that she is, she quickly concluded that the shockwave must have just short circuited the systems. The fact that she is scattered ash in the vastness of space might give credibility to that assessment.

After finding and fiddling with what looks a control panel beneath one of the monitors, the visual feed is back online.

Aside from the usual emptiness of space being shown, Elster could make out some other key details.

The enemy ship was gone. The other mobile suits seemed to be mostly intact as well. The ship where Ariane currently is is also still fully intact. Elster sighs in relief to that.

Suddenly, she began to hear a buzzing coming from the piloting chair. A red light blinked from the left control station. Elster quickly identified it as the communications device. Approaching it cautiously in a floating manner, she pressed the button. The speaker bellowed out a buzzing rush.

"fzzz...Re-G-ffzzzz-Z...Come infzzzz!".

Ah, it is the crew of that ship.

"Re-GZfffzzz...Please confirmfzzz...Status!".

Elster takes a moment to breathe. She felt glad that she was alive, even after such a harrowing and destructive surprise attack. She felt glad that Ariane was safe as well. But, aside from that, she also kind of felt glad that the other were also relatively unharmed. She did not understand why. She barely knows these people, she barely talked to them ever since that interrogation and subsequent information dumping she did in response. She tried to reason to herself that she was just paying them back for what they did for her and Ariane, but she felt like this was not the complete truth. Perhaps this is worth further investigation. She then pressed the button next to the 'opening channel' button.

"Re-GZ here. I am fine.", she replied into the speaker.

Just what is this, this feeling?

[X]

"Miss Elster Yeong!".

The Replika looked at the shorter man standing in front of her, his arms crossed behind his back and his looking upwards into the taller robot woman's blue eyes. His face was stern, but the signs of age made it look like an angry old raisin. She conjured that mental image in amusement, saving it into her databank for later purposes. Ail continued to stare at her with a strong gaze.

"You disobeyed an order directly from command despite only being a civilian guest at best on this ship. You broke into the mobile suit hangar and stole one of our mobile suits despite explicit orders to not trespass in these areas. You used said hijacked mobile suit to launch without proper authorization from my part. And yet...".

He takes her hand and shakes it with a firm grip.

"You went out of your way to assist our mobile suit team and made sure that no further casualties befell us after the tragic loss of our comrade Borr. You have shown impressive talent with a mobile suit on the battlefield, with a transforming one to boot. You managed to reduce the enemy forces with little issue or objection.".

He lets go of her hand.

"Therefore, I have to ask: Why?".

He sounded so genuine from the tone of his question. Elster was not sure if it was real or just an act. However, judging from how the interrogation situation went, she did have some incentive to at least trust his words somewhat.

"You saved me and my love. It was just a way of paying your kindness back. Nothing more.", she answered.

Ail raised an eyebrow.

"Hmmm...", came from the captain. The rest of crew that was also present on the bridge looked at him with anticipation. "What if...", he murmured to himself before continuing to look at her. Then, he smiled. He takes out something that looks like a sticker, showing a triangular symbol. With one swift motion, he slaps it onto her right shoulder, covering up her serial designation and the symbol of the LSTR Units. He then took off his jacket and flung it over her shoulders. "By the power vested in me as captain of this ship, you are hereby drafted into the ranks of it. Congratulations, you are now officially a member of Londo Bell!".

The crew looks at him with shock and pure surprise.

Even Elster was a little bit surprised.

Captain Ail just smiled, thinking he just made the best decision of his life.

Perhaps, this is not Hell, but an insane asylum.

[X]

Aboard the Sternenverschlinger, Kommandant Kriemhild was currently working in her office quarters, going through the usual paperwork. She felt content with herself at the moment, and why should she not be? She managed to destroy an unknown foe and some dirty deserters in one fell swoop. That will show these pathetic imperials who the real future rulers of the galaxy are!

A knock on the door snapped her out of her own thought, which makes her huff in annoyance.

"Come in.", she she said with a raspy and blasé tone.

Into the room stepped a EULR unit, holding an envelope. She looked visibly uncomfortable just being here. Kriemhild did not care at all.

"What is it?", the kommandant asked the Replika in an authoritive tone.

The EULR unit handed her the envelope. She took a small bow and left the room with a bit more tempo than expected. Her fear amused the kommandant. She knows her place, like the little pathetic machine that she is.

Taking a good look at the envelope, she quickly identified it as being from the communications officers. She pulled out a knife from under her coat and used it to cut the envelope open in one swift and precise move. Now freed from its paper prison, the actual message inside of it got pulled out and folded open, revealing its contents. Thus, the Kommandant began to read it. At first, she looked indifferent to the contents, but with every sentence she read, the stoic indifference crumbled little by little, being replaced with an ugly expression of growing fury. Her grip on the letter began to tighten as it went on, crumpling the paper in the process. And the moment she finished that damn thing, she hammered her now balled fist into her metallic desk, breaking through it in a furious scream.

They survived!?

Panting with feral intensity, her eyes dilated to the point of looking like a wild animal.

This. Means. War!

No one makes a fool out of Kommandant Kimberly Kriemhild! No one!

And thus, she decided to order a pursuit of their new high-priority target, potential orders of high command be damned!

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[X]

It was a boring day for everyone aboard the Ra Cailum , with its passengers doing their jobs with the same interest as they do chores: with resistance. No one wants to do anything of note at the moment, mostly because they just survived an ambush barely a week ago. That does not mean that they should idly lie around and do nothing. That would spell doom for them in more ways than one. They had a ship and a crew to maintain, after all! So, the mechanics continued their work on the machinery of both the ship and the mobile suits, the personnel continued their known routines, the cooks continued to cook and the bridge continued to supervise and navigate.

But for someone like Elster, the situation was a little bit complicated. Aside from her regular visits at the infirmiary to see Ariane, she does not know what else she could do on the ship. Her fields of expertise, which include maintenance of technical equipment and combat experience, are currently not needed in any form or way. Attempts at offering her assistance was met with the same response of 'Thank you, but we have no need for that right now.'. And despite her usual demeanor, she could not help but feel frustrated by that. It made her feel useless, and she came to the realisation that she absolutely loathed that feeling.

So, she continued to search for something to do in the time. Anything that could get rid of that feeling of complacency in her bio-mechanical mind. Just something that made her feel useful.

After wandering the halls of the ship for the upteenth time, her spiralling thoughts got interrupted by a message from the speakers.

'Attention, all decks! Elster Yeong is demanded to report to the bridge immediately for urgent information!'

Elster sighs. At least something is happening in her artificial life. Without a word, she makes her way to the bridge.

[Later...]

Aboard the bridge of the ship, Captain Ail went over the latest reports of the crew regarding the usual machinations of the ship, which includes damages and the current quality of the equipment in general. Furthermore, one of the reports include a request to hold a makeshift funeral for Borr, as well as making a report to his closest family members regarding his fatal fate. Things that usually fall under the captain's responsibility, his responsibility.

He lets out a defeated huff.

Borr was not just a crewmember, he was also a friend. He was someone Ail could even consider his best friend for a long time. Makes sense since we went way back, after all...

[Many, many decades ago...]

"Hey.".

A young man with curly hair waved at a similarly young, but burlier man with friendly intentions. Young Ail reacts to the greeting with dampened surprise, his thoughts were buried in the documents he was studying. Exams were on the horizon, and he needed every second of it to feel prepared since it decides his future in the EFSF. Of course, he was not alone in this assessment, as many others felt likewise, including the man in front of him, it seems.

"Hey.".

A simple reply to a simple greeting.

"I-I know you don't know me, but would you be interested in studying together? I-I heard you were one of the best in the class...".

Ail calmly observed the man. He looked insecure, withdrawn and shy in demeanor, almost like a Mimosa Pudica. It causes Ail to feel a little bit sceptical. However, he then analysed his eyes. Behind the fear and anxiety was a fire he has never seen in another person before, almost like a hidden strength. Perhaps a fleeting sense of bravery as a result of mustering up the guts to ask for help, but still bravery nonetheless. Not many admit they need help, even when told repeatedly it would help them. Heck, Ail himself admits he is not different from that. From there, the young man decides to give the other young man the benefit of the doubt, to see where it goes.

"Sure. Sit down.".

Little did he know how close they will become. How long and often they would hang out. How often they would have each other's backs during simulations and drills.

Little did he know they would become the closest friends in the whole wide universe.

[The Now.]

The reminiscience of the past fades away when Ail could hear the familiar trotting of the Replika, who finally arrives at the bridge. The good captain takes a good look at the artificial woman, who continues to keep a stoic expression on her face as usual. He admits to himself that he has a hard time reading her, but he at least knows that he was not the only one with this problem. Even the few newtypes on the ship have told him that any attempts at something of a psychic communication with her gets blocked immediately. They described it as some sort of wall that keeps shielding her mind, which sounds extremely cryptic. Regardless of that, he politely greets the Replika anyway.

"What is of importance?", Elster simply asks, not wanting to beat around the bush. Despite the tone, she knew she was itching at doing something right now. Does not matter what it is.

A bit antsy, isn't she? Ail was slightly amused by the tone. He knew exactly what kind of tone that was, for he had the same tone when he was young as well. Putting that aside, he gestures towards the seat next to him. He wants her to sit down, something Elster immediately picked up upon. Request understood, request done.

"Well, I will try to keep it simple with you.", he says.

Elster nods in understanding.

"We are currently on a course back to Earth. The reason being that I have to report the recent events to high command in person.".

Elster nods again.

"However, that is not the only reason.".

Elster tilts her head in confusion.

"I plan to move your...loved one to a more capable medical facility. So that she can get the proper medical treatment she deserves.".

Elster's eyes go wide.

"I-I know that sounds shocking to you, and I give you every right to be, but you must understand that the reasons for this are solid, right?".

Elster inhales, then exhales in a sigh. Her mechanical nerves visibly tensed for a moment, but keeping herself calm through simple breathing, she managed to lower them back to normal. What the captain said scared her more than the nightmares that she had recently.

"As her closest de-facto relative, you do have a say in this. You are even allowed to leave the ship permanently and go with her, if you want. I would understand. We all would.", he continues to speak.

Elster could not help but slightly frown in frustration.

"We arrive on Earth in roughly half a week. I will give you time until then to come to a decision regarding what I told you. It is, in the end, your choice and your life. You live it the way you want.".

With that, he politely gestures her to go, with a sympathetic smile on his face.

Elster then left the bridge.

[Later...]

Cheda did not know how to feel right now. Her comrade, her friend, her friggin' mentor for crying out loud has been killed in action. She knew that this was an expected risk of their field of work, but still. One moment, he was there. Then, boom. Gone. Reduced to dust in space. The least they could do was retrieving the remains of his Mobile Suit, hoping to find enough of him to give a proper burial when they get home.

Pacing around the corridors of the ship, her face distorted into a mixture of a frowning, crying and raging expression.

Her emotions were a mess, right now. 

Suddenly, something entered her peripheral vision. A familiar shade of black and red. Topped off with blue-ish black hair, one she was told was typical for being like her.

Wasting no time, she masks her rush towards her with a sense of coincidence.

"Hey, uh...Elster, correct?", she asks the Replika.

Elster, who was similarly somewhere else with her thoughts, finally notices her.

"Eh, yes?", came from the Replika.

Cheda clears her throat.

"I just...wanted to thank you. Personally, for saving our asses back there.".

Elster smiles faintly.

"Think nothing of it.", she replied.

Cheda scoffs.

"I think everything of it, you! Had you not intervened, these weird bird space jets would have made short work of us!".

Elster tilts her head.

Cheda now had an idea to get herself out of her funk for today. She adds: "Tell you what, how about you, me and some other peeps take some time off to celebrate a little bit together?". She gives Elster a friendly tap with her elbow, the impact making a profound clank sound. "Whaddya say, girl? Wanna let loose?", she then asks.

An uncomfortable silence slowly builds itself up when Elster did not respond immediately. It made Cheda feel extremely uncomfortable. And the worst part, it seemed to go on for a good while.

Thankfully, the silence is broken when Elster opened her mouth.

"Sure.".

One simple answer.

On point.

If Ariane were here, she would joke that it is on brand for her to do this.

She also was the one who told me to be more open. Might as well heed her advice while I am here. The offer can wait a little bit.

And with that, both Cheda and Elster walk off. Cheda was definitely suppressing the urge to fist pump from the feeling of success. Elster could tell she was suppressing the urge to do that. A wave of amusement heaves Elster's mechanical chest.

This will be interesting...

[Meanwhile, somewhere else...]

Inside her office, Kommandant Kriemhild was writing down something on a piece of paper. Through her hardened, scarred facial features, one can deduce that the content of the letter seems to be urgent. After all, the fate of the Nation might depend on it!

VON: KOMMANDANTIN KATYA HABSBERG KRIEMHILD

ZU: OBERKOMMANDO DER EUSIANISCHEN WELTRAUM-KRIEGSFLOTTE

INHALT

ORDNUNG XX.XX.XXXX

Sehr Geehrtes Oberkommando,

Mit diesen Brief wünsche ich sie über derzeitige Ereignisse zu informieren, die sich über die letzten Wochen stattgegeben haben.

Ich muss sie hierbei über ungute Entwicklungen informieren, die sich über den Grenzen unseres Sonnensystems ereignet haben. Auf einer Bergungsmission der Penrose-512, welche den Notfall-Peiler aktiviert hat, wurde unser Schiff von einen unbekannten Objekt angegriffen. Nach deutlicher Untersuchung handelte es sich um ein Weltraumschlachtschiff wie unseres, jedoch wieß es keine Erkennungsmerkmale zu den Kriegschiffen des Eusianischen Imperiums auf. Die Zugehörigkeit des Schiffes bleibt unbekannt, jedoch haben die ihre Feindseligkeit gegenüber der Nation mit ihren Taten, unter welcher auch die Bergung der Passagiere der Penrose-512 zählen, deutlich gemacht.

Ich bitte hiermit um eine Evaluirung der von mir geschilderten Information aufbauend auf einen Interesse des Eingreifens, als auch eine Kompensierung der dezimierten Wehrmacht des den unter mir zugeordneten Schiffes.

Ich hoffe, dass diese Nachricht wohlbekommens den Empfänger erreicht.

Glanz und Glorie der Nation!

A creepy smile morphs itself on Kriemhilds' face.

Knowing her superiors, she will get exactly what she wants, full truth be damned.

With that, she folded the letter away, waiting for the messenger to pick it up.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[February 1st, 493 UC]

After exactly a week of traveling, the Ra Cailum finally arrived near the orbit of what the Humans called their home, their cradle and their birthplace: Earth. From the windows of the ship, Elster got a very clear look on the spherical orb of landmass and water. The radiating blue and cloudy veil of this world feel almost familiar to the Replika, but she is not sure why. Seeing this world almost gives her a feeling of being home, despite the fact that this could not be her home nor that of her template. And yet, this feeling of home still persists the longer she looks at the world.

The pondering almost made her not register the announcement that was given through the speakers.

'Attention, all personnel! We will be entering atmospheric reentry in less than 15 minutes. Please make sure you are in a secure area and have a stable balance!'.

Despite the warning, Elster continued to admire the beauty of the world. She never really got an image of her own homeworld, the more she thought about it. She was built, she was assigned to the Penrose almost immediately, and from there, all she saw were the distant stars and the captivating smile of her beloved superior. A superior who loved music, who loved to dance, who loved to paint and who loved to...Ahem...explore herself and Elster intimately. Elster got a little red when the memories of these nights returned. These were her most cherished memories, and she will protect them with her life until the end of the universe.

However, her head also had these other memories. Memories that do not belong, neither to her and in her head. These memories were the opposite of comforting, with sceneries of bloodshed and war filling every sense she possessed most of the time. Aside from these, she also got bombarded with memories of a tragic love, one that felt oddly familiar to her, similar to what the Earth made her feel. She could not understand these memories, but she did manage to seperate and disassociate them with the memories she made for herself.

Then, there were the nightmares. Terrifying scenarios where she was trapped in places filled with twisted caricatures of her fellow replikas, with the only way of survival being to either become like them or fight your way out. In most of these repeating scenarios, she would eventually fall to the hordes, being ripped apart piece by piece, devoured by the pulsating flesh around her. There were also the scenarios where she was dropped down an elevator shaft by a masculine figure. For some reason, these type of nightmares enraged Elster whenever she inevitably wakes up. Any other time, she would wake up with a strong flash of panic. 

All of these things, as much as she wanted to, never seem to end.

It was on days like these that she missed Ariane's warming touch.

Elster's face scrunched in frustration.

Please, please wake up, my love. Please.

Suddenly, the ship began to shake, snapping the Replika out of her funk and sending her into high alert. Her hand already snapping back to grap the nonexistent firearm in her holster, only to grasp the air around her. Regaining her bearings slowly, Elster managed to see outside the window. Or what she thought was a window, since there seems to be something covering it. Finally, she realized what was happening.

The Replika cursed herself for her perceived inability to follow an order.

Ariane would probably have a laugh at the sight if she were awake right now.

[On the Bridge]

Okay, let's do this one more time.

My name is Captain Ail Merry, and for over a month, we have been subjected to the strangest of events. After the investigation of an unidentified spacial vessel outside the borders of the solar system, we have been taking care of two peculiar passengers that the vessel once belonged to.

Okay, that is not bad, but could be more consize.

Sitting in his designated chair, Captain Ail scrunged his face in deep thought. In about 10 Hours, he must give his in-person report to his superiors in the military, so that they can assess the situation and come to a decision on how to proceed from there. Hopefully in a manner that does not involve anything that could hurt his passengers in any form or way. God forbid he just wants this stress to subside, in the end.

Almost as if he was asking for it, the ship begins to rattle. Normally, considering what they were currently doing, this would be a non-issue. However, this type of rattle was more on the violent, unsteady side. It caused the alarms in Ail's head to kick into overdrive. He turns to look at the helmsman and his assorted crew of supervisors with a concerned look, his old face now wrinkling heavily. "Mister Staya, what is going on?", he raises in concern.

The middle-aged Helmsman who goes by the name of Mahn Staya gives the captain a look that is completely on edge. He seems to really be scared right now. "Internal Stabilizers are malfunctioning, sir!", he caws back at his captain.

Ail's eyes nearly pop out of his eyes in panic.

Fuck my life!

[In the Machine Room]

A chaotic torrent of alarms, beeps and screeches howl out of the machine rooms' internal structure, so much so that the human ear could probably blow out its drums from the sheer volume of the dezibels being blasted out of the machines that make up the internal heart of the ship. The concert of alarming sounds was every engineers' greatest nightmare come true, and the lack of engineers whose drums are not blown out makes it a coming nightmare to all on the ship if no one does anything about it. The consequences of the ship malfunctioning while in atmospheric reentry could be absolutely catastrophic, downright desastruous to all.

Suddenly, a pair of metallic hands fiddle with the machinery. Their fingertips seem to be adorned with white paint, its movements precise and intentional. These hands seem to know what they were doing.

After fiddling with the machinery a little bit more, the concert of chaos in the room goes abruptly quiet. The machines being to hum and buzz as they were intended to do, almost as if they were fresh of the assembly line. And the hands responsible for this sudden save seem to disappear into the shadows, with no one wiser.

[Back on the Bridge]

"Captain!".

Ail frantically looks at his helmsman again.

"What is it, Staya?", came out of his mouth a little bit too high in the octaves.

The helmsman in question gave his captain a surprised and confused look.

"The systems seem to be back in operational capacity!", Staya reports.

"Which means?".

"We are still in the green, sir!", the Helmsman retorts.

Ail exhales in relief, slumping back into his chair in post-panic clarity.

"Good riddance!".

I really should start to think about retiring already!

[Meanwhile...]

The scene stretches across the brutalist aesthetic of the Donnerverschlinger, who is steadily drifting through the vastness of space. Pushed by its thrusters, the pitch-black monstrosity of a space warship almost merges with the darkness of its surroundings, only giving away its presence through the stars that disappear and reappear. And aboard its many quarters, a particular quarter remains lit up with activity.

Inside this quarter, a small lamp illuminates an old, wooden desk. Sitting behind that desk is none other than Kommandantin Kriemhild, who seems to be reading a letter. Aside from the rustling of paper and clothes, silence reigns supreme in the quarters.

Suddenly, a chuckle emanates from the older woman. The chuckle eventually turns into a laugh, growing ever more wicked in vocal tone by the second. Finally, it culminates in a demented cackle, one laced with twisted joy and sprinkled with sadistic intent. The moment Kriemhild dropped the sheet of paper, a psychotic smile becomes visible.

Finally.

She swiftly grabs the phone next to her, pressing a number on it. After a short connection period, the phone gets picked up, revealing a female voice. Kriemhild chuckles again.

"Start the FTL. It is time!".

Her prayers have been answered, and she was going to enjoy every second it.

[On Earth]

To many, their surroundings usually become part of their awareness and their life, often being taken for granted.

For Elster, this is all completely new. As a Replika, she was basically designed to be confined to her station until the day she stop functioning, which in this case consists of spaceships and the emptiness of space. For someone like Elster, who has seen nothing of nature aside from the plants and paintings of Ariane, arriving on Earth is a whole new experience. The blinding light of the sun in the clear sky hits her face with a surprising intensity, giving her a strange feeling of warmth on her face. Compared to the heat of an engine or a reactor, this was almost a more comfortable alternative. Then there was the wind that blew across her face, whose breeze carried a sensation of coldness with it. This harmonious concert of nature was accentuated by the caws of what she deduced were seagulls, as Ari once described to her. The Harbor their ship landed in was surrounded by a vast ocean, the water reflecting the clear blue sky like a mirror and emitting a rush of waves in satisfying intervalls.

The entire thing gave Elster a sense of familiarity, a sense of feeling at home, despite never having been near nature or on a planet with nature at all for all of her life.

"Enjoying the view, Miss Elster?".

The magpie snapped out of her thoughts when she registered the question directed at her. She looked at the source of said question, coming eye-to-eye with Barbra. The shorter woman gave the Replika a warm smile.

After a short pondering session, Elster replied: "Yes. This is...beautiful.". A rare smile forms on the normally stoic face. "Like a painting Ari used to make in her free time. But seeing it in person...this is something completely else.", she adds in amazement. Her thoughts now got infected with smile Ari again.

Barbra giggled: "Glad that Earth gave you such a good first impression!". Her expression falters for a moment, almost as if she remembered something tragic. Elster took note of this, but refused to press the topic. "I do hope that we get to truly show you our cradle of a home in full. There is so much we could show you, so many beautiful things, big and small.", she added.

Elster put a hand on her shoulder. "I would gladly explore this world a bit more when I get the chance. I will think of your offer, Miss Rossa.", the magpie said to the young doctor in a reassuring tone. Her smile towards her became more understanding.

Suddenly, they hear another voice speaking up.

"Will you two nature hippies continuing just standing there or will you get a move on? We still have some stuff to do, after all!".

Both Elster and Barbra made surprised eye contact with none other than Cheda, who looked at them with boredom and slight annoyance.

"What'cha lookin' at, you boobs? I ain't the gal for this kinda stuff, after all!", the redhead added.

Barbara gave the redhead an amused look. "Then what is your 'kinda stuff', my dear Cheddy?", she replied. Elster noted the slightly sassy undertone in her voice.

Cheda just scoffs. "You know!", came out of her mouth. It sounded a little bit unconfident. "Booze 'n' stuff...", she sheepishly added.

Suddenly, the redhead felt an arm slinging across her shoulders, which quickly reveals itself to be Barbra's arm. Cheda quickly grew a little red on her face. After, having a beautiful woman so close to your being can make even a good soldier stumble his words and feet. This, too, did not go unnoticed by the magpie, who huffs in amusement at the sight, clearly remembering her early romantic days with Ari.

"You know, despite being a doctor and everything that includes that title, I do think we all are in need of a drink.", she added in light humour. Her tone abruptly shifts to a more serious one, however. "But we still have a job to do, so the fun times have to way a little longer!", she adds while removing herself from the tomato-red redhead, who in turn lets out a disappointed, little whine.

"I agree with that notion.".

Everyone looked at Captain Ail, who just exited the ship.

"It would also be helpful if you three would come with me for this meeting, considering your various input could benefit the process considerably.", she elderly captain added.

Silence, which bothered Ail more than he wish it to be.

"Well, I take your silence as agreement, so without further ado, I would kindly ask you three to follow me!", he added.

And with that, they did what they were told and followed him.

[In the Briefing Room]

Within a circular office of massive proportions, a group of men and women sit across each other around a heavy assortment of desks, forming a perfect circle. Many of the men and women were relatively young, but it was obvious from their eyes that they were experienced, truly worthy of being in their current positions. However, they all seemed to be a little bit shocked at what has been told to them in that moment, what information they just received from this particular group under their supervision. An understandable reaction, after all.

One of them spoke up, his voice not even bothering to hide his incredulous tone. "Let me get this straight...". He holds up a photo, depicting one of the aircrafts the Crew has fought against. "There is a whole spacefaring, industrialist civilization like ours outside of our solar system, and they attacked you because you allegedly took something from them?", he added. Let it be known that General Skepper Tikal is not someone who is easily fooled or suprised, but this whole situation either feels like a cruel prank or a massive problem waiting to blow up in their faces. "And that...something, is an artificial mechanical humanoid and her...lover, who they not only shot into space as part of an space exploration program, but also to get rid of them because...because they were undesirable?". With each word, he became more and more sceptical of the whole thing. Were it not for the artificial humanoid standing in front of them, he would have flat-out denied it on the spot.

Ail's eyes wander a bit in uncertainty. Hearing it out of the mouth of another person made him realize how nutty this whole thing sounds out of context. It is well-known that humanity has tried to find alien life ever since the question of life outsife of our world has been asked ages ago. However, there was never any real success in finding anything noteworthy, the best they could find were alien bacteria and that was it. But now, they had potential proof. It was rather mind-blowing if you thought about it. So, he spoke up. "Yes, that is what we learned from the whole situation, sir.", he told his superior.

In response, Skepper slumps back into his chair with an audible wheeze from the furniture.

"What the actual fuck.", he blurts out.

Many eyes fixated on him went wide from the crass language.

[At the same time...]

Inside a tower, a man was snoozing his days off from the sheer ease and boredom he was currently suffering from. Normally, he should be observing the airspace right now, but for almost a century, nothing truly noteworthy happened in this area anymore. No wars, no enemies, no enemy warships or starships. It was almost like a fever dream for humanity to even achieve something like this. Actual peace. But for the old man, that meant actual boredom. Thus, he continued to snooze his days off until the day he can finally retire.

So imagine his surprise when the alarm on his control panel goes off like a crazed maniac. It ripped him out of his realm of dreams so violently, that he accidentally falls off his chair from sheer shock. After cursing out the heavens from hell and back, he finally directs his attention at the panel in front of him, seeing that the sensors have picked something up.

A large unidentified object entering orbit, with it almost at the troposphere of the planet.

The old man's eyes go wide.

Without missing a beat, he grabs his communication equipment and tries multiple frequencies, always repeating the same message directed at the supposed intruder: "Unidentified Object, here speaks Officer Iroh Neigh! Identify yourself immediately! You are trespassing Earth Federation territory without permission!". Silence is the only thing he picks up upon, on every frequency. Sweat was starting to roll down his forehead. He repeated this process many more times while keeping track of the movement of the object. "Speak up, now!", he eventually screams into the microphone.

Finally, he began to hear something from the other end of the frequency he was currently on.

It was an unsettling chuckle.

"Look outside.", is all what came out of it.

With dread warping his face, Iroh did exactly that.

He was met with an oncoming missile heading directly at him.

[Back to the others...]

"So, what do we do now, I may ask?".

This was an important question on so many levels, from the greater scope to the very personal, after all.

A torrent of murmurs and private conversations goes around the circle of officials present. From what Elster could make out, they seem just as stumped as the one who was asking the question. It gave the Replika an uncomfortable feeling.

Eventually, the murmuring dies down. All eyes befall Skepper again, who in turn focused on the group they are having this discussion with. He seemed to have regained his serious demeanor compared to his reaction moments before.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice now serious. "For one, with the information you have provided, we will, for one, update the perimeters of our patrolling routines to include the given descriptors. Through this, we will be able to identify and react to this new faction with appropriate accordance.", he explains. He then adds: "As for the living situation of the so-called Replika and her...ahem...lover, we will grant them protection and support, including access to the medical facilities necessary to treat the latters' list of issues. With permission, of course. However...". He looks more intensely at Elster, his gaze piercing into her mechanical soul. "We do wish to interrogate the so-called Replika regarding her actions with the Mobile Suit.".

Ail felt a little guilty for revealing that bit of information now, but one look from Elster did tell him that she did not held it against him, easing his nerves.

"This is how far we will proceed for now. As for-".

TAKE COVER!

"What-".

Suddenly, the entire building begins to shake violently, causing the people inside of it to fall and stumble. The emergency lights and sirens begin to blare out. Panic and unease begins to break out among the people in the building. And Elster felt a sudden flash of a déjà vu right now. And it is not a good one.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[ARE WE CURSED TO ALWAYS REPEAT THE SAME MISTAKE?]

They say 'War is Hell', but that is not the complete truth.

War is also Chaos of the highest and most devastating degree.

Engulfing the buildings that once stood proud as a sign of civilization, as a memory of home, were the gluttonous maws of fire. The ashes, the excrements of its destructive hunger, either shower the ground with their eerily snowy behavior or darken the once beautiful noon-lit sky with their alarming presence. The same buildings that once stood strong were reduced to rubble, marking them as the remnants of something that once was.

For the people that once called this place something of a familiar environment, the whole scenery was by a mile the least of their worries. Those who managed to survive the collateral destruction around them had to worry about something else, something that swarmed the skies above them. Winged and maliciously inclined, the falcons of death circled the survivors, intending to leave no survivors and to satiate the remaining thirst for blood ravaging their veins. Seeing their prey scatter for safety and shelter only intensified that thirst. Without wasting any time, the falcons opened fire, letting it rain bullets of death.

People left and right, people all shapes and sizes, people of all colors, people of one world, were reduced to holed corpses in an instant. Those who managed to get out of the way only bought themselves seconds before being subjected to the same fate. Hopelessness of survival was becoming an universal truth. Laying injured from a stray, two unfortunate individuals could only see the beast of skies approach them once more to deliver the finishing blow, clenching their eyes in abject terror of their imminent, gruesome end. Until...

PWANG!!

The end did not come.

BWOOM!!

An explosion rang out.

PRAASHHH!!!

A crash could be heard.

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

A large shadow casts itself over the injured survivors. Cautiously, they opened their eyes. They went wide with shock, but their bodily tension dissipated at the same time.

Shield firmly place in front of them proudly stood a mobile suit. More precisely, a RGM-119 Jamesgun stood in front of them, one arm stretched out with its gun aimed into the sky. Next to it were the remains of the Todesfalke that tried to shoot them down, blown to bits and burning to ashes. The head of the mobile suit turns to them, lingering its mechanical gaze upon the survivors.

Elsewhere, gunfire continues to ring through the air.

Squadrons of mobile suits are duking it out with swarms of Todesfalken, with each side taking heavy losses. The people of this facility mobilized everything they had currently available, no matter the age of it. One RGM-122 Javelin tussled with a swift quarted of these strange jets, but ultimately got shot down by a surprise backshot from one of them. A duo of RGM-212X GM Freedoms blasted into the sky while standing back-to-back, taking down a few of the machines attacking them. However, their luck ran out when a diving Todesfalke rammed itself into the both of them in a suicidal bid of mutually assured destruction. At the same time, a squad of ancient, grimy-looking RGM-79 GMs formed a circle with each other, shooting down attacker from all angles. Sadly, one of the deadly falcons managed to drop a powerful bomb in their circle, destroying it in the process. Over time, the falcons seem to overwhelm the defense with their swift and striking tactics, causing the casualties to rack up.

[X]

Elster's head rang to the point of immense pain. Her vision was dizzy, but she could make out the blurry silhouettes of the officials and the crewmembers trying to futilly regain their footing from the constant shaking of the building around them. She groaned in pain frustration, her memories foggy from what just happened. When her senses finally had the nerve to work properly again, she noticed that she laid on the ground like she was knocked out. A pang of confusion creeped up her ringing mind, but it was quickly drowned out by the hammering force of an incoming headache. Familiar messages seem to be the source of this aching pain in her head.

[ST-TA-TATUS DER PERSONA: DEGRA-DEGRA-A-ADIERT]

[!F-F-E-EHLER!]

[!FEHLER!]

Once more, the quirks of her construction was trying to torture her, but the magpie was fed up on this repeated masochistic dance.

Shifting her position slightly, she aims her gaze at the ground.

With one mighty swing, she hammers her head into the floor, causing it to crack from the impact. Despite the unusual sight, no one in her vicinity seemed to really notice what she was doing. Regardless, she went through with it.

[!F-FEHLER!]

She then proceeded to do it again.

[!FE-]

And again.

[-HLER!]

And again.

[!-EH-!]

And again.

[!-!]

Finally, after the sixth slam into the bloodied crater that has been formed beneath her, the headache stopped and the messages went silent. While she could not see it from her own perspective, the repeated smashes have ripped the skin of her forehead away, partially revealing the mechanical, skeletal frame beneath it. However, she did feel the rupturing of the skin with every wired fiber of her being. Her teeth gritted from the pain, her frown visible to all. Overall, she did not really care about the loss of artificial skin as she was frustrated.

With what, exactly?

Everything.

Absolutely everything.

[EVIL IS NOT BORN. IT IS BUILT.]

From the windows of her vessel's bridge, Kriemhild observes the carnage and destruction that unfolds below her with intense intent.

A wicked smile has formed itself on her face, something that the unfortunate ensigns next to her had to see with horror. Usually, when the good Kommandantin unveiled such a smile, it would only come as the result of untold destruction being let loose on her command. In the end, though, none of her subordinates had the guts to comment on it. A fear most understandable, as many have come to learn.

This feels...fantastic!

Kriemhild only knew the situation at hand from the other perspective, but now being on the opposite one gives the woman a sense of catharsis, as if the weight of her past has been taken off her shoulders. She could not help herself when she let out a pleased, dark chuckle. I will relish this with every fiber of my fucking being until the end of my life!

A concerning thought, as one KLBR Unit present on the bridge could unfortunately hear. A shudder ran down the Replika, and probably all the members of her cadre, too. Next to her, an EULR Unit then entered the bridge.

"M-Ma'am?", the Unit stammered out.

Snapping out of her euphoria, Kriemhild turns to look at the Replika interrupting her relishing, dropping her scary smile in an instant.

"What is it, EULR Unit?", she demandingly responds to the Replika in question.

Twitched movement came from the machine servant fascismiling as a human. A scared one, as it should be, as Kriemhild notes to herself.

"T-The Ground Special Squadron is r-ready, ma'am!". Her voice sounded even more uneven from the sheer terror it barely tried to suppress.

A huff escapes the Kommandantin.

"Good.", came out of the woman. "Send them out with the objective of finding out information about our enemies. Stealth in advised until the cover is blown. In the prospect of that scenario...Leave no survivors.". The last part drawled out with a particular sting of venom. She waves with her hand. "You are dismissed. Get out of my sight.", she adds.

The EULR Unit did not need another memo as she nearly ran for the hills, either out of fear or to fulfill her task.

Kriemhild regains her smile.

Soon, we will know who you are, and we will crush you opposition like the imperialists before you!

She breaks out into laughter.

Glory to the Eusian Nation!

[X]

As the chaotic battle between the two armies rages on, from the skies rain down a dozen silhouettes. Halfway on their descend, parachutes spring out to gently guide them to the ground, which they reach with little hassle or interference from foreign forces. These twelve STCR Units have arrived on the scene, quickly ditching the parachutes as they get a grip on the perimeter. One of them, marked with a noticable red stripe on her armor, pulled out a sheet of paper with information of their current task written down on it. These tasks, as ordered from their Kommandantin, are the following:

1. Gather data on the enemy.
   1. If incapable of gathering concrete data, capture one of their officers for interrogation.
2. Manage to return to the marked rendevous point with the aquired data and/or captured officer.
3. Remain undetected and keep casualties at a minimum to avoid suspicion.
   1. If discovered, ignore point 3. Leave no survivors.
4. In the prospect of an unlikely failure of any of the previous points, send an emergency message to high command through the special transmitter given to you.

The STCR who read this pulled out a small device with a noticable red button on it. She eyes the device before nodding to herself in confidence. She turns to her squad and gives them certain hand signals. Split up and search the perimeter for anything connected to our objective. Before the storches could scatter, however, the seeming leader gives another signal, one with a sudden sadistic grin. Forget point 3 and leave no survivors except who you think can be squeezed out the most for info. her squad returned that wicked grin tenfold.

And with that, they split into even groups and moved out.

[X]

There is a saying that the architect is the judge, jury and executioner of any future resident of whatever building they come to see as their new home. His competence is a deciding factor if a building is habitable or a concrete coffin to all inside of it. And for whoever designed the war room of the building was definitely a saint in disguise. It is a stroke of genius to put the room below the earth, well-sheltered by the structures above it and thus more resistant to bombardment. And for the high officials and the crew of the Ra Cailum-Class Space Battleship Codenamed Schimmel, this was definitely the case.

Through the rumbling halls that make up the underground structure, this group of people (and a Replika) try to navigate themselves out to a safe zone, either to retreat or to regroup with the other soldiers out on the battlefield.

However, Elster seemed to have other ideas.

Having memorized the way into the war room, she immediately makes a beeline for the route they came in here from. Something that did not go unnoticed, as Cheda called for her the moment she saw the Replika split off. "Where are ya goin', lass!?", she shouts the magpie's way. Elster did not react to her call. "What do ya think ya doin', goin' that way? That's suicide waiting to happen!", Cheda continued.

Finally, Elster turned around, looking Cheda dead in the eyes. Her eyes were furiously fierce in form, her strangely red pupils shrunken down to eerie dots. A growling huff escaped the mechanical woman, which takes Cheda aback. The Replika then continued her march. 

However, Cheda was not having that in any form or way. Swiftly, she grabs Elster by the arm and yanks her back, now staring her dead in the eye with a pissed off expression. "Explain. Now!", the redhead nearly growled out towards the magpie.

The two continued to stare at the building continued to rumble.

Finally, Elster gave in first.

"I am going back to the ship.", she explains flatly.

"Why?".

"Mobile Suit.".

"Why?".

"To fulfill a promise.".

Cheda raised an eyebrow at that statement.

All that for a promise? Is she stupid?

"That is, by far, the dumbest reason I have ever been given for a disobeyed order.", the redhead eventually responded after a moment of silence. Then, she grins with a surprising amount of violent glee. "I'm fuckin' in!", she responds.

Elster's serious expression falters, replacing itself with surprise at the sudden and unexpected response. She honestly expected to be reprimanded for this insubordination, despite not actually being part of their military. If she was in a Eusian Military Squadron, she probably would have been shot dead for her actions. A flash of relief curiously washed over her, like she was glad that it did not turn out this way. She liked it. In response, Elster changed her expression into a confident smile.

"Lead the way, Miss Cheise.", Elster finally answered.

Both women then continued the route towards the ship, avoiding any attention in the process.

The rest of the group continued to make their way towards the other path they have taken, unaware of the two missing people in their midst.

[X]

Within the hangar, a silhouette had started tinkering with the inner machinations of the Re-GZ, adjusting whatever systems it seemed unfit for whatever operation it originally served. Their white-tipped fingers rerouted everything into a manner more efficient, more effective than before.

"CPG Settings complete. Neural Linkage, Ion Density Normal. Update Meta Motor Cortex Parameters. Minorvsky Nuclear Reactor Optimal. Power Flow stable. OS Overhauled...".

These same fingers worked with speedy efficiency, tipping everything they need to do away with much thought.

"This will do, I hope..".

Eventually, the mysterious figure put everything back where it belonged, leaving no immediate trace of their tampering with the systems. Jumping out of the cockpit, the silhouette hushed back into the darkness, with the faint sound of metal rustling through a small closure being heard by no one.

[X]

Fast and frantic footstep howl through the entire hangar, belonging to Elster and Cheda.

The both of them have made a short detour to the changing rooms to put on some piloting uniforms. For Cheda, she wore the standard issue Londo Bell mobile suit piloting uniform, only customized slightly to fit her personal color preference. That entails it being red and yellow with two black stripes. For Elster, she simply grabbed the standard issue AEON space repair suit she once had on the Penrose, being one of the few items that survived the whole ordeal. It was also probably the only thing that could properly fit her frame, having no feet and all that.

The two women instantly located their respective mobile suits at the tail end of the hangar, standing still and inactive. However, Elster could not help but strongly notice the change in color scheme her mobile suit went through. "What?", she blurts out.

Cheda also noticed the look Elster gave the Re-GZ, now sporting a custom color scheme. "Like it?", she gave the magpie, who returns the question with a profoundly flabbergasted look. If the situation weren't so dire, Cheda would have laughed at that face. However, those were desperate times, and no distractions were a given. "It was supposed to be a surprise for you. From all of us.", the redhead sincerely explained. Elster was at a loss of words and did not know how to respond. Cheda hit her on the shoulder. "Anyway, duty calls, buddy! I'll explain later! Chop Chop!", she energetically gestured to her new friend.

Finally, Elster snapped out of her funk, immediately switching back to her more familiar stoic, serious expression while putting on the helmet of her suit and climbing into her now customized Re-GZ. Inside, she instantly noticed that something was off about the whole cockpit, but since the situation was dire, she subsided the questions for later. Now, they need to end this and survive!

"Elster Yeong! Re-GZ! Taking off!".

The mobile suits awaken from their slumber, their limbs creaking from the sudden shake-up of movement. With slow, steady and mechanical movements, the machines try to move out of the hangar...but the door was still closed for them.

"Oh.", came from the magpie.

From the comm link, Cheda's voice tuned in.

"Don't worry, I know a good lockpicking technique!".

She then proceeded to punch the door open, ripping a hole into the hull of the ship in the process.

Elster looks at this with discomfort and flabbergasted horror.

She shakes it off immediately.

"Elster Yeong! Re-GZ! Taking off!...For real, this time!".

With that, both mobile suits blasted out of the hangar and flew into the sky, with their destination being the battle at the other end of the headquarters.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[DIE HOFFNUNG STIRBT ZULETZT IM MENSCHEN]

Within the complex machinations that make up the emergency escape routes of the headquarters, the group of officials and crew members continue their hasty trek through the place in search for an exit and a desire for safety and salvation. However, the process is occasionally hampered by the fact that they are currently carrying a very fragile cargo with them. Around the last corner, they made a short detour to rescue the still comatose Ariane from the still intact infirmiary of the complex. Thank the architects for having the foresight to put such a place underground for once instead of upwards! Carrying a comatose woman around is rather hard when it is done with just a cranky movable bed frame and a lot of medical life support equipment hooked to a person. They had to make another detour just to get a battery for the equipment to be made mobile, in the end. The tension was riding high from all of this, dreading obliteration at any moment. But thanks to some sort of a cosmic lottery win, they managed to remain alive up until this point.

While running, Barbra pondered on why they were doing this in the first place. They could have just left her there, prioritizing their own survival over preserving one in a critical state. However, the bigger question comes from the surprising cooperativeness of everyone else in that regard. Normally, they would probably choose a more pragmatic option, but not this time. They chose to help. They chose save a life.

But why, though?

Why go through all that trouble to save one life?

As she continued to ponder, something spoke up in her head.

Because they would not forgive themselves, perhaps?

In an instant, Barbra snaps back and looks around frantically.

Who said that?

But whatever it was, it returned into the realm of silence.

Putting that aside, they continued their trek, searching for salvation.

The ground continued to shake from the rage of war.

[X]

Speedy, metal clanks echo through the broken walls of the building, accentuated by the rustling of equipment. A squad of beings looking like humans, armed to the teeth, rushed through their point of investigation with high alert. They know their mission, having been told multiple times before deployment. Seeing as they have no idea where everything is in this unfamiliar environment, they had to resort to investigation of multiple structures. Perhaps they find a survivor. They could torture the necessary information out of him, if possible. Or not. The Storches did not care if the victim lived or died. As long as they get what they need, the fatality of their methods is unimportant.

Stumbling could be heard from one of the still intact doors of the structure.

It does seem that luck was on their side.

Not so much for their victim-to-be.

[X]

Out of the hellfire that ravaged the remnants of what was once a complex selection of buildings, engines far above the sky roar their dreadful thrusters across the battlefield. Their prey, the giant metallic humanoid beings piloted by small insects, attempt to shoot them down with the weapons that adorn them, but the speed and the swiftness of the deadly birds make it hard to hit anything. In turn, the birds, just as metal as their bipedal bretheren, manage to hit them where it hurts the most, shooting them down with extreme prejudice.

Above the clouds, Kriemhild continued to enjoy the brutal spectacle with upmost joy. She does question why these traitors use such strange machines, though. Who in their right mind would design humanoid vehicles? Isn't that inconvenient? Then again, as Kriemhild mused, this faction seemed wholly unprepared for them in general, so there is that. Bunch of scummy failures.

She continued to muse about the inner workings of her enemies when the flashing light of an explosion made her remaining good eyesight wince upon contact. Her thoughts subside instantly as she refocuses on the scene outside. She noticed the flock of ashes and dust close to her ship. The remains of a destroyed Todesfalke plummeted down into the seas, as the Kommandantin observed. Her eyes widen with surprise and disgust. She just saw one of their state of the art flying machines get shot down just closely to her presence. She does not question if the pilot survived or not (they did not), she does not even feel a sense of grief from this. She just feels slighted, something she highlights with one sentence.

Who dares?!

Suddenly, one of the radar checkers speaks up. "Two signals close to our height, approaching fast!", he said with a sense of panic. His eyes show terror, but Kriemhild in unsure if it is from seeing her raging face or the fact that they are now under the possibility of a direct attack.

[X]

From the clouds emerge two mobile suits, blitzing through the air as if they are on a mission.

One of them looked familiar to Kriemhild, though. It took little time to realize that this is the same machine that shot down her troops back in space, only now it seems to have a completely different color scheme. Kriemhild did not care about that though. Your colors are irrelevant on the field of war, machine! 

From the cockpit of the Re-GZ, Elster stared at her target with vigilance in her eyes. To her side, she hears the enthusiastic voice of Cheda roaring into her artificial ear. The Replika was desiring an end to this madness and by her love's name, she will do it. This ends now.

"Ready to give these geese some of their own medicine, G1?", came from the redhead.

putting aside the weird nickname, Elster nodded to herself.

"Affirmative...G2.", came from the Magpie with a surprisingly confident smile.

A laugh came from the comms.

"Then LET'S GOOOOOO!".

With one swift motion, the mobile suits split into opposite directions with high speeds, circling the enemy ship along the way. From both machines flung out missiles, rushing towards the hostile structure with instense speed. It took four seconds for half of them to make direct contact with the hull and turrets. The rest were managed to be shot down by the still remaining gunports.

inside the structure, the impact caused everyone to be thrown off-balance. kriemhild fell on her butt from the attack, causing her to wince from the short, but sharp pain of the mishap. Her face twists with a horrifying grimace. The rest of the crew did not fare better, with only those seated still standing somewhat strong. The alarms of the ship began to shriek in an annoying screech. After getting back up, Kriemhild turned around. "Status Report, NOW!", she aggressively demanded to anyone who listened.

"S-Ship hull penetrated, Ma'am! Moderate internal damage on deck 3, 4 and 7! Engine Room still operational! Hangar still operational!", came from a terrified ensign.

Kriemhild grit her teeth. An audible growl escaped her mouth.

"Contact the Squadrons 1, 3 and 5 below to fall back and defend the ship! I want these two dead from the skies, NOW!", she barked.

Meanwhile, Cheda lets out a roar of jubilation.

"GOTT'EM CLEAR AND CASE, YA FUCKERS!", she shouted through the comms.

Elster winced from the sudden increase in decibels aimed at her mechanical ear.

Suddenly, the sensors picked something up.

30 hostile signals homing in on them!

"Celebration is not due yet, Cheda.", came from Elster. "We've got company!".

The sounds of joy are quickly replaced by a groan of annoyance. It seemed that Cheda also noticed the sensors' readings on her side of the comms.

"Aw, man!", came from the redhead. "Just when I thought it would be easy!". A small 'Heh' could be heard, vaguely. "Wanna split them even? 15 you, 15 me?".

Elster shrugged.

"Fine by me.", she said.

On Cheda's side, she lets out another laugh.

"Fuck yes, let's do this!".

When the horde of murderous metal birds finally plowed out of the sheets of the clouds, the quickly hunt the two mobile suits in their sights. In retaliation, the two machines once again split up towards opposite directions, causing the army of Todesfalken to do the same thing. The speed of all the machines involved could not be properly measure in that moment.

[X]

Thousands of electric jolts began to fry every layer of living tissue above, beneath and beyond the body of a man strapped to a chair, his muffled screams drowned out by the whizzing buzz of the electrical currents in the air. Smoke escaped the spot that served as the targetting point for the tazer causing all his torturous suffering, but he could not perceive it properly, for his vision started to get blurry. His voice became coarse from all the screams escaping his throat.

Suddenly, he gets slapped by a metallic hand. The force of the slap nearly threatened to rip his jaw clean off his head, but it stood firm despite it all. The slap caused his senses to refocus slightly.

In front of him stood a group of tall, armored, downright robotic looking women, all frowning at him with visible disgust and a slight hint of sadistic joy at the suffering they inflict upon him.

One of them, who was also the one tazering and slapping him, was currently smoking a cigarette in her mouth, looking surprisingly bored and tired compared to her companions. She slowly took the cigarette out of her mouth and began eyeing it with a contemplative look. In a flash, she jammed the still burning recreational drug into the wound caused by the tazer, forcing another jolt of burning pain down the nerves of the man.

A sigh escapes the tall woman. Her breath smelled of thick smoke and corpses. The latter thought unnerved the captured man.

"You willing to talk now, kleiner mann?".

The man shivered in fear.

The woman raised a fascinated eyebrow.

"Well?", she drawls out of her mouth.

The man scrunched his face a little bit. Then, he spat onto her face. It directly hit her on the jaw.

Wiping away the spit, the woman continued to look bored. Her reaction remained when she turned to her squad. What she then said caused the man's colors to leave his entire body.

"He is a lost cause. Have fun with him.".

That was the last thing the man heard as his last breaths were slowly, painfully taken.

Repeated gunshots could be heard from a distance.

[X]

Explosions decorate the blackening sky as hordes of flying contraptions desperately try to hit the two humanoid targets evading every blast, every missile aimed at them. In return, the mobile suits take their own shots at the enemy with greater success, shooting down at least three in one maneuver. The repeated laser fire from the rifles leaves trails of smoke coming from the weapons, being blasted away by the velocity of the wind of battle.

Cameras shielded by colored visors move to the dance of the skies, following the enemies next move with vigorous intent. From the connected cockpits, both Elster and Cheda steered their machines with the goal of shooting some more. While Elster remained stone-faced in the heat of it all, Cheda took the whole thing with a roar of joy and catharsis, cursing her lips out with every insult known to man. She swore in languages Elster never heard of before, for crying out loud? For the magpie, this was relatively comparable to a STCR Unit going rogue. She thanks her non-existent Goddess that this lady is on her side right now. She dreaded what it would be like to be on her bad side.

The swarm began to encircle them in a surprising maneuver, snapping Elster back to the reality of the battlefield. From the top of the machine, a pod opens up, revealing missiles beneath them. With a flashing flare of fire, these missiles rush out of their home towards the trapped duo.

Suddenly, something akin to a flash trails both the thoughts of the pilots in an instant. Elster swiftly shifted the gears of her machine, causing it change into its waverider mode and blast upwards, dodging the explosives. In comparison, Cheda immediately deployed her two beam shields, blocking them without harming her or her mobile suit.

Steam shot out of Cheda's nostrils, almost like a maddened bull. Her face showed nothing but a sense of offendedness. "Dirty move, ya assholes!", she shouts. She quickly shifts her tone into a low and dangerous chuckle. "Little do ya dinguses know that I am the bigger trap around here! DEPLOY INCOMs!".

Like a murder of crows, strange cylindrical structures shot out of the backpack of the machine, slinging erratically in every direction. Acting strangely autonomous, the extensions shoot out small, but fast energy projectiles at the swarm of Todesfalken. Each shot results in a direct hit, each hit into another destroyed machine plummeting down the clouds. Adding to the fireworks comes the shots of the rifle blasting at full force. In quick succession, Cheda had managed to shoot down the swarm to only half its original size.

Elster, who witnessed the carnage from above while also shooting down some of her own pursuers, went wide-eyed.

What the Hell was that?!

She has never seen something like this before in her life, nor did she ever hear about such technology.

Sure, bioresonance modules were a thing, but autonomous attack drones were still kind of inconceivable in her eyes.

She could not help but awe at the technical aspect of it all.

"Wow...".

Wow indeed.

Elster snapped back and looked around frantically.

She really thought she just heard a familiar voice...

[X]

A chair, freshly ripped out of its sockets, is thrown at the window of the bridge, with intense force. The force was great enough to crack the targetted window, leaving a shattered pattern on the structure. Panting furiously stood Kriemhild, her headwear long dropped to the ground and her hair disheveled from the jerking motions she used to do the act of destruction moments before. Her face was twisted by furious beyond mortal comprehension, almost akin to a demon instilling nightmares into unsuspecting people. Which might be not far from the truth, judging from the mortified reactions of the crewmembers currently huddling in one corner of the bridge. Even the normally stoically stallwart STAR Units had dropped their posture to shrink in slight fear. And less to be said by the shuddering mess that was the KLBR Unit in the other corner.

But Kriemhild did not care for any of that.

What she cared about was the fact that two ridiculously looking machines are currently making mince-meat of her troops and make it look easy!

Growling pants escape her lips as she sudden hears uneven hoofsteps from behind her back.

In a jerking motion, coupled with inhuman speed, the furious Kommandantin growled at the stranger daring to enter her orbit.

It was just the same EULR Unit reporting to her, as always.

The same EULR Unit was now crying in fear from the sight of her superior's face.

"You.".

She drags the Replika by the arm.

"Tell the hangar to prepare my machine. I am doing this myself!".

The crying Replika rapidly nods as she ran off, nearly tripping her own hooves.

Kriemhild lets out another growl.

[X]

Elster shot down the last of the machines attacking them, leaving the sky clear for them.

"That was the last target", she said.

"No shit, Sherlock!", came from an amused Cheda.

It became clear what they needed to do now, though.

"Let us end this madness, now.", the Elster said, looking at the warship in the sky, still standing defiantly against them.

A grin appeared on Cheda. "Music to my ears, sista-", she tries to say.

Why try? Because suddenly, an explosion erupts close to their proximity. The pilots frantically try to regain their composture from this sudden surprise attack, leaving their faces bewildered with sudden shock and terror. Finally, after inspecting the monitors for a sign of a target in their vicinity, they discover a strange, new machine dashing through the air, leaving a trail of smoke behind itself.

"What the Hell is that?!", Cheda screamed out.

[X]

Upon closer inspection, the machine looks a lot like a Todesfalke, but there seems to be some key differences. For one, the machine had an additional extension behind its main body, looking a lot like a booster pack of a rocket. Furthermore, the wings seem to have been doubled, forming an X-like structure in the process. Additionally, there seem to be a lot of missile launching pods attached to that same booster, some having been already fired judging from the little trails of smoke coming from their ports. And lastly, it seemed to be colored in a prominently red color scheme compared to the other Jets. Overall, this machine looked experimental compared to the brutalistic, avian, mass-produced simplicity of the Todesfalke.

It looked dangerous, and it was moving with surprising grace and swiftness despite the additional bulk of it all.

It instantly put the Magpie on high alert.

However, that seems to be the least of their problems right now as they sudden began to feel a small, but screeching pinging sound in their heads. The sound became louder and crasser with ever waking second, before finally becoming a heavily painful hiss in their mind. Their vision immediately became a blurr of the sudden and sharp pain of it, making them see red across their entire vision. Eventually, the only thing both Elster and Cheda could see was a single, but repeatedly uttered message.

STIRB

Nothing else clouded their minds more than this one word, repeated frantically in their head.

STIRB

So much so that they nearly miss the incoming missiles coming their way. Thankfully, Elster managed to regain her focus long enough to witness the incoming barrage, pulling the handles with all her might to steer her mobile suit away from it. Cheda, likewise, managed to fight off the influence long enough to dodge as well.

Panting heavily from the assault on their minds, they move their machines in a way meant to keep their distance from their new hostile target.

"Again: What the Hell?!", came from the redhead on the comms.

For Elster, it was an obvious answer.

"Bioresonance.", she simply muttered, albeit with a slightly disdainful undertone. It was clear to the Magpie that this enemy combat vehicle had something related to bioresonance on board, possibly either a seperate system or a KLBR Unit. The former more likely, though, as Elster assessed to herself.

"The fuck is a bioresonance?!", asked Cheda.

"Mind-fuckery, basically.", Elster replied.

"So, basically some kind of Newtype bullshit?".

Elster shrugged, face remaining focused.

"Probably.", she simply says.

A groan escapes her comrade. She heard something in a language she could not understand from her newfound friend. In the end, she did not ask or question it. She just rolled with it.

Ariane would be amused by that, probably.

YOUR PRECIOUS ARIANE WILL NOT SAVE YOU NOW, WORM.

What the?!

STAND READY FOR MY ARRIVAL, WORM.

A voice rang through her head like a shrilling clock. Coarse and authoritarian, it's low, growling tone highlighted both age and cruelty. It sent a shiver down Elster's mechanical spine.

"You hearing this too, right?", came from Cheda.

Elster groaned in confirmation.

Another volley of explosions occurred next to them, with the duo barely dodging the assault once more.

SO THE ONE MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A FOOL IS THE SAME WHO SHOULD HAVE FINISHED THE TASK OF HER MISSION ON THE PENROSE.

HOW PATHETIC!

Elster felt her mind being prodded for information with uncomfortable, surgical precision.

LOVING A GESTALT? SERIOUSLY?

ONLY A DEFECT AND A DISGRACE COULD ONLY COME UP WITH SUCH A HERETICAL IDEA!

Another volley of missiles nearly hit them.

The attacks are becoming dangerously close.

"If this shit continues, we will become sittin' ducks in a pond for this bitch!", came from Cheda with lament and annoyance.

Elster knows this, but right now, she has no idea on how to deal with this problem. She never fought someone with bioresonance or Newtype or whatever it is now called before. Sure, she knew that Ariane was one. Her lover revealed that fact on a particular cycle, something she seemed to be shocked about as well. It left some unfortunate theories being flung around between the two on the nature of their mission on the Penrose. Or maybe it was just the loneliness and isolation in space doing a number on them in the end. Regardless, she has no idea what she should do.

DESPAIR IS WHAT YOU SHOULD DO, MACHINE.

DROWN IN IT AND DIE.

SUCH IS THE FATE OF ALL WHO BETRAY THE NATION!

Elster's grip on the handles became loose. Her entire body began to shake in terror, her eyes began to release liquid. Whatever the enemy did to her was affecting her entire being, down to her bare persona.

"ARGH! Fight me like a soldier, you fucking bitch!", Cheda shouted.

Elster's breathing became frantic and uneven.

A disgusting thought creeped up her mind.

What if she is right?

Her breathing became even more panicked in rythm.

What if all this was just my fault? What if I deserve to die? What if I should just have done my job and put a bullet between her eyes when the prospect of it was necessary? Why? Why didn't I do it? All of this... All this... Her state, her life, her every second of pain... This is all my fault!

Her grip finally leaves the controls, just as another volley was approaching her.

"Elster!", Cheda screamed.

I deserve this!

No, you don't.

What?

It was the same familiar voice she heard a while ago. Suddenly, she realized where she heard it before. It should have been obvious to her, after all.

Ariane.

Hello, my love.

Suddenly, Elster felt herself leave the constraints of time, her body detaching itself from the moment of the now to enter a plane of existence unknown to her. Flashes of light and color rush past her in sparkling light, and from the foggy consistence of it emerged a familiar figure. Ariane. Without pain, without damage. Just Ariane.

Is it really you, my love?

Yes. It is good to see you.

I have...I have so many questions.

Ariane smiled at her, resting her hand against the artificial skin of the Magpie. Despite the etherial, out-of-body state they were in, Elster felt the soft touch all the same. It put her mind at ease. She smiled in return.

All in due time.

Right now, it seems you need some help with an asshole, am I right?

Elster chuckled.

Yeah...

Well, shall I help you rip it open a new one?

Elster was now fully laughing.

Yes.

Then so be it.

Let's rip this bitch a new asshole!

And for that...

Meanwhile, outside the space...

Something rattled around the GM Freedom, something that even Cheda began to notice. Her panels announced that the INCOMs were getting active again. That confused the redhead, since the Quasi-Psycommu System was not active right now. Suddenly, she felt something snap off her machine, violently. "What the-", she screamed as her operating system sent her a message that the INCOMs were ripped off. "What the fuck?!".

Gonna Have to borrow those, lady!

"Fuck you!", Cheda replied to the voice in her head.

Well, fuck you too, then!

The INCOMs flew away from the mobile suit they were once attached to, approaching the Re-GZ that was still in danger.

[X]

Inside the cockpit, Elster put her grip back firmly on the handles of the mobile suit controls, her gaze filled with determination and stoic fury. With a heavy push, she moved out of the way, letting the INCOMs take her place. The little drones began doing their work with the missiles, shooting them down at a incredibly fast rate. They then returned to their new companion, who switched to pursuing the enemy combatant with vicious intent.

Kriemhild was shocked. She should have been dead right now, reduced to ashes and despair! She could not fathom how her hold could have been broken so easily. She grit her teeth. Not like this. NOT LIKE THIS!

The two machines entered a violent dogfight with each other countering each others maneuvers in perfect sync. Every time the Kommandantin launched another volley of missiles at the Magpie, the INCOMs would intercept them, leaving her intended target unharmed. In return, whenever the Magpie launched beam shot after beam shot with her rifle at the smaller target, said smaller target dodged by accelerating even further. Eventually, it got to the point that both could not land a hit on one another. And that began to frustrate the Kommandantin in particular.

Finally, the missiles stopped coming. For Kriemhild, this meant that her primary method of attack has been exhausted. This meant that she only had two options left. Either dodge until the fuel tank is empty or use the last resort. Normally, she would choose neither of those options, preferring to rather survive for another day. But this Replika, this abomination of metal and circuits, was making a fool out of her. It reduced her forces to scraps in the sea, it damaged her ship, and it mocked her with its continued existence. So, in the end, she chose the latter option.

Flying steeply upwards and then plummeting back down, the machine opened a secret compartment inside its booster extension. Inside of it laid certain, nuclear-capable device.

[WARNING! ACTIVE NUCLEAR EXPLOSIVE DETECTED!]

Elster's eyes went wide.

Cheda screamed through her comm.

"Did it just say 'Active Nuclear Explosive'?!".

The Re-GZ was currently on a collision course with a combatant with nuclear armaments!

Breathing in and out, Elster regained her composture yet again.

She thought something. Ariane heard it. Elster nodded.

 She accelerated once more.

The TodesFalke Commander Type began to open fire at the mobile suit, but the INCOMs intercepted the shots, acting as makeshift shields for the machine.

The machines drew closer and closer with each waking second, with none deterring from their path at all.

Finally, a flash hit Elster as she pulled something to make a sudden move in her machine. The mobile suit pulled out a stick-like contraption that ignited a blade of energy. It grabbed the handle with both hands, continuing its approach.

just as they were at a hair's breath away, Elster swung out. The mobile suit swung out. The Blade hit, cutting through the cockpit of the enemy like a knife through butter. In an instant, the person inside the cockpit got bisected.

But Kriemhild had one last thing to say.

YOU-

Inside the water, the plunged bomb went off, sending a geysr of water sky-high and wave raining down.

Kommandantin Kriemhild Kim, High-Ranking Official of the Eusian Space Force, fell in battle, the Second of February, 05:12 AM, 493 of the Universal Century.

Elster finally exhales all her tension from her chest. Cheda, in return, cheered through the comms. Ariane's voice was gone, again, which muddied the victory a little bit for the Replika. The INCOMs became inactive, falling into the sea below.

Then, the duo noticed that the enemy warship was turning around, seemingly intending to leave, uncaring of the troops it would leave behind. From beyond the cockpits, Elster and Cheda gave each other a glance. Both aimed their rifles at the ship and pulled their triggers. The beams hit the bridge of the structure point blank, causing the rest of the ship to start to explode. It quickly began to plummet down, crashing into the ocean below.

Now it was over.

[A little while later...]

The remaining enemy forces did not fare better than their base of operations or their leader. The rest of the ground forces managed to take down the scattered and disoriented combatants with ease. Those who survived the retaliating onslaught got captured and surrendered, which might prove useful for gathering more intel on who they are dealing with in the first place. Furthermore, the survivors of the base managed to reach their safety point with little issue, surviving the attack all the way. Everyone involved breathed a sigh of relief when the battle was over.

As for Elster and Cheda, the both of them managed to land back down safely, reuniting with their crew a little while later. Said crew then started to chew them out for disobeying direct orders, with Barbra being most worried and angry with Cheda, who winced at the doctor's harsh, but true words. Elster, in return, could not help but be amused by the sight of the once boisterous and pottymouthed Cheda being reduced to an ashamed puppy that dropped something fragile on accident. Eventually, the Officials stepped in and calmed everyone down. They explained that while the two disobeyed an order and split off to do whatever they wanted to do, they did something vastly positive for eveyone involved in the end. So, they declared that they will turn a blind eye of the disobedience and sweep it under the rug.

Cheda sighed in relief, Barbra in return sighed in exaspiration.

Everyone sighed in gladness of being alive.

Then suddenly, a voice could be heard.

"E...Elster?".

Elster turned around and lost all the air in her body.

It was Ariane, awake and looking at her from the makeshift transport bed she laid down in.

In an instant, tears began to run down the Replika, which caused the Gestalt Officer to do the same. Elster wasted not a second rushing to her love, taking her in for a tight, desperate hug. And despite the weakness of her limbs, Ariane returned it in kind. Relief swept over them like a gentle wave. 

Finally, they were reunited. For real, this time.

[END OF ARC 1: ERWACHEN DER ELSTER]

...

[Somewhere undisclosed...]

"Extraction team, respond?".

Somewhere undisclosed on the island, a team of STCR Unit were waiting for their escape ride.

The Replikas stood tall, waiting patiently for the secret extraction team to pick them up and their important cargo.

A human cargo.

Trapped in tape and chain laid an unconscious Captain Ail, subconsciously reeling from the electrical jolt that was sent through his guts moments before.

The Replikas eyed him hungrily.

"We have what we came here for...".

[TO BE CONTINUED IN ARC 2]

Chapter Text

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

A rythm most basic, yet most reliable for those in need of learning even the most elemental of maneuvers. And that is especially true for those who underwent a special procedure involving mechanical replacement limbs. It gives them a rythm to help adjust themselves to this new form worldly interaction and mobility, as cheesy as this sounds.

And Ariane, Rythm was everything to her right now.

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

When the doctors looked at her body, they gave her a face that is a cocktail of shock, pity and horror, as they could not fathom someone being able to still be alive after everything she went through. They told her every disgusting detail about her physical condition, down to the last minute detail. Necrosis in all four limbs, no healthy teeth, internal organs contaminated to Hell and back and then thrown back to Hell just for good measure. She basically pulled the worst set of cards in the game. And yet, here she was. Alive and kicking. Her brain still unharmed, by a total miracle. Same for the overall face. Not that Elster would be deterred to kiss me even if I have a butter face.

She does not understand it, herself. By all accounts, the Penrose was basically a flying coffin from the start, in hindsight. I mean, who puts den verdammten Nuklear-Reaktor neben den Schlafräumen? Whoever designed this and whoever allowed this design to happen really wanted people to suffer through the whole thing, didn't they?

Either way, here she was, alive and kicking and no longer in presence of that fucking flying coffin.

Even if only to a certain degree.

The good doctors made sure to use every tool in their arsenal to fix up any internal damage I had to the best of their abilities, and to their best, they managed to patch her up perfectly. New teeth (that's weird), a whole lot of transplants (the search for the most fitting ones was, according to one of the surgeons, 'harder than finding Laplace's Box, whatever that is) and quick patch of any surgical wound they left behind. Unfortunally, that is where their expertise ended.

Ariane's limbs were damaged beyond repair. That is as much as the doctors explained to her. Nothing could be done, and the only viable solution at that point was to amputate them, just to make sure that they will not cause any further complications to her health. Of course, they left that choice up to Ariane. It was her body after all.

After much consideration, she did opt for the amputation, which went well and without a complication.

Now, she was limbless.

A pretty torso with white hair.

For many, that would be a existential crisis.

For some, a challenge they would gladly accept.

But for Ariane, it was an opportunity.

An opportunity to learn a bit more about the fusion of man and machine.

She was approached with a unique proposition.

Remain limbless or gain mechanical limbs as a replacement.

And Ariane took that second option without a heartbeat.

So, here she was, learning to adjust herself enough on these replacements to be able to walk again, with Elster silently cheering her on on the sidelines (and possibly making sure that nothing bad happens to me, probably).

Suddenly, Ariane tripped. Thankfully for her, her knight in black armor zipped to her side faster than she can process her drop. Now she laid safe in her lovers' strong, mechanical arms.

"Are you okay, my love?", came from the Magpie.

For a good eternity, no response slipped out of the white-haired woman. Her red eyes observe the features that adorned the woman of her dreams. Every part was perfect, forged for precision, style and practicality. Said practicality being the need to be kissed over every centimeter of this wonderful face, something Ariane decides to do in an instant. Without warning, she pulled Elster into a kiss, deepening it with a firm grip on the hair attached to the back of her lovers' head. They did not let each other breathe at all.

Finally, Ariane seperates her lips from the Magpie's, causing the force to make a sudden pop.

"Dance with me.", came from the Gestalt Officer. "Please.".

Elster raised an eyebrow to that order. "But you-".

"Please, Elster.". It nearly came out like a whine this time, as much as Ariane hated to admit to herself.

After a short silent pause, Elster sighed and formed a sincere, little smile. "Very well. I will get us some music, first.", she replies while casually lifting Ariane and sitting her down on a chair. "Wait here, my love. I'll be back.".

Ariane smile back. "I know you will. You always do.".

With that, Elster left the room, her footstep becoming more and more distant.

After a short while, however, she returned with something in tow.

It was a boombox.

"What is that, Ellie?". She could not help but ask.

Elster inspects the device with upmost professionalism, as expected for a Replika of her type.

"Cheda said that this is basically a boombox with a vast archive of music put in it. Just select something and play it, she explained.". Elster got closer to show Ariane something in particular. It seemed that they even had some of the all-time classical ones she liked to listen to. "They even have some of the musical pieces you liked to listen to on the Penrose.", Elster said with a slight hint of joy.

Ariane's eyes went wide at the sight of the names the list showed her. They had it all. All of her favourite pieces and so much more. She could not decide where to start.

In the end, she chose a personal favourite of hers.

Swan Lake.

Carefully, she lifted one hand towards her lover's, who responded by taking the other hand Ariane was still lifting. With a gentle pull, Elster lifted Ariane onto her legs, who struggled a bit to find her balance from the sudden shift in form and focus. Eventually, she did manage to gain her footing. Slowly, they moved to the rythm of the song, gently holding onto one another.

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

In that moment, the world around them dissipated into obscurity, leaving only Elster and Ariane.

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

Eternity between them stretched itself further into the stars, leaving the atmosphere behind as a speck of a memory to all who wished for more.

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

Their rythm becomes steadier, more focused, but most importantly, more in control of one's self.

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

Finally, they followed the rythm in a display of synched harmony, becoming one with the melody.

When the song reached its end, so did the dancing couple. They finished their little number with a closing hug, one that held itself in a tight grip. Neither participant desired to ever let go of that special moment.

Finally, this new silence is broken by four words.

"I love you, Ari.".

Ariane smiled nearly with tears.

"I love you too, my beautiful magpie.".

And they rejoiced.

Chapter Text

Rustle, Rustle, Rustle.

"Urgh...Why is this so difficult?".

Rustling through a cardboard box littered with styrofoam on her bed, Cheda grimaces at the sight of whatever was in that box being buried all this stupid trash. The worst part of it all was that it even started spewing everywhere! She just cleaned the room, for crying out loud!

"Come on, where is this stupid thing?!".

Finally, she feels something round and hard at the bottom of the package.

"Ah, finally!".

With a strong pull, she removes the round thing from the bottom, scattering the remain styrofoam everywhere. Cheda screams internally. All this for a stupid birthday present!

Now, with the present in her hands, she finally gets a closer look at it.

It was a Haro. A green one, to be more precise. One of the more older models, judging by its size. The newer ones were downsized to be able to fit into one hand. This one was as big as a medicine ball.

Why a Haro? To Cheda, something like a Haro is as useless as giving her a discount coupon to an all-male strip club. She is not lonely, nor does she have any need for help!

Inspecting the mechanical marble on every surface, she finally found what she believed to be the "On" button. With a simple push, the dots on the machine began to light up. A whizzing sound could be briefly heard from the machine. Then, a simple jingle followed on that. "HA-ROOOOO!", tuned out of the little robotic ball.

After a moment of silence, the Haro began to wiggle in Cheda's arms. Eventually, it flung itself out of there with little effort. It hit the ground, but seemed to remain unharmed. Rolling itself into a certain position, it turned to look at the redhead with intent. Then, its sides flipped open in a manner similar to a bird.

"Owner? Owner?", came from the little robot.

Cheda snickered at the cutesy voice coming from the little machine. She always thought that whoever invented these things had a bit of a weird sense of humor for giving them such harmless voices. But it could have also been for marketing purposes. She does not really know, nor does she really care.

"Yes, little buddy, I'm your owner!", came from the redhead after some silence.

In response, the Haro began to bounce around in joy.

"Owner! Owner!", it screamed out enthusiastically.

However, this bout of joy is interrupted when Cheda catched with her hands and shushed it.

"Oi, be more quiet!", she said in an annoyed vocal tone. "People are sleeping around here!".

The Haro lets out a sad, little wheeze.

"Affirmative.", came with a surprisingly more sullen voice.

Cheda inspected the machine. Honestly, she had no idea what to do with it. Sure, it was a birthday gift, but it did not really have a pragmatic and personal use in her life. So, she contemplates on what to do with it.

Finally, after some thinking, she had an idea. Not a good one, but one that can help keep that little thing occupied while giving her some peace of mind. That is enough for her, at the very least.

"Hey, wanna do something important?", came from the redhead. She tried her best to make herself sound more excited than she actually is. A monumental task for her, since normally, the thing that gives her the most excitement was currently in maintenance in the hangar. Those bird planes really did not fuck around, that is as much as she had gathered from the all events up until now.

The Haro shaked. A clear sign that it was enthusiastic for a task. Cheda must admit to herself that it is actually kind of adorable, in a way.

"Important! Important!", the machine chimed.

Cheda smirked.

"I want you to investigate the air vents of the ship! There is a big monster in there that needs to be dragged out! You think you can do that, little buddy?".

The Haro now shook even harder.

To that display, Cheda chuckled.

"Attagirl!".

Simply letting go of the machine, it began to roll out of the room with a surprising amount of speed behind it. The last thing Cheda heard from the far distance was a joyful "Helping! Helping!". She chuckled again.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

[X]

Somewhere on the ship, a little green ball rolled, bounced and jumped around with a mission in mind, eventually reaching one of the air vents of the ship. Deploying its arms and legs, the robot removed the grid from the frame with careful precision. Finally, it rolled into the now-open shaft with little resistance. The sound of metal rolling over a similarly metallic surface could be heard from it, becoming less and less prominent.

The little robot rolled and rolled, taking turns and stumping across the walls of the narrow structures. "Rolling, Rolling, Rolling...", the little robot murmured to itself along the way, unbothered by the grime and dirt covering the ground it rolls on. It is filled with the need to fulfill its mission, nothing more, nothing less.

When it did its latest turn around the corner, it crashed into something soft. Upon inspection, the Haro identified it as a type of plant. Using a connected search in the database, the machine identified it as a common potted plant, usually used as a grown decoration for households and living rooms. The Haro is confused by that, though. "Plant in shaft? Plant in shaft?", it wondered to itself.

Suddenly, the plant rustled, causing the Haro to recoil in surprise.

Out of the bush that same plant has grown into, a face emerged. It was a human face, as the Haro noted, but it had these strange mechanical tattoos stretched across its face. On its head was also a strange headgear, looking like a knacked leaf crossed with a welding mask. The hair of the strange woman was either black or a very dark type of blue, with blue eyes adorning its face as well. Inside said blue eyes glowed a red dot, almost mechanically inspecting the Haro.

"Oh, Hello!", the strange woman said.

"Who are you?".

Chapter Text

[BEGINNING OF ARC 2: LUNAR DECEPTION]

Splash!

Cold and grappling wetness slaps against aging skin, sending a shocking sensation throughout the connected system of nerves buried beneath the layers. Grasps of air desperately inhale whatever dingy air particles stood in their way, throwing out any pickiness in the due process. Tired eyes slowly adjust themselves back to the lighting of the environment, drying out the extra fluid flooding them.

A singular bell of light that illuminated the small, cubic, barren room. Its light casts a shadow of abyssal depth, embracing the figures inhabiting said space. The bell also highlights a single person in a small, crooked chair, arms chained behind the furniture, connected to the ground with short chain.

A hand lunged out of the shadows to grab the wrinkly chin of the man in the chair, sending signals of sharp pain from its tight grip.

"Guten Morgen, Sonnenschein.".

The voice sounded downright motherly, the tone hitting him like a punch in the gut.

"Bereit, heute besser mit uns zu kooperieren?".

The sharpness of the question cut his senses like a knife in butter, his head splitting itself with the headache plaguing it. He groans. Beneath the pain, there is a waft of lament hitting his mind, questioning on how he ended up in such a bleak situation.

Suddenly, his face gets struck with a slap of metal, the force rattling his mind into chaos.

"Sprich, oder schweige für immer.".

He groaned again. The burning sting of the hit is accentuated by the blood trickling down his saggy cheek. Despite the pain and the fire of fear burning in him, his face remained expressionless.

He continues to lament.

[FLASHBACK]

The ground beneath them continued to shake violently, the walls rattle with the force that seperates them from certain death from above. It also does not help that the corridors of the facility, especially the below-level ones, were quite a bit claustrophobic. And this did not give the good captain any favours, his mind running primarily on panic. The crowd he was squeezed into rushed around in search for a safe haven, hoping to escape the carnage of the battlefield. An understandable sentiment, as Ail tells himself.

However, right when they decided to turn left at a crossroad, he heard it.

A cry.

A cry for help.

"Help!", a pained voice screamed out from the right path.

No one else seemed to hear this cry for help, the plea for salvation falling on deaf ears.

But Ail hears it, and he promptly decided that saving someone in dire need is more important than let his fear guide him to safety at all cost. He was a captain and a father, damnit! What example would he set for his child if he just abandons someone in need. He did not do it for the Yeongs, he will not do it now! And so, he dragged himself out of the crowd and ran back to the crossroads, taking the turn he thinked he heard the voice from.

While on the run, she shouts for the voice to respond to his own. After screaming his lungs out one too many times, he finally heard the voice again. Female, as he could not now. The pleas continued, the voice grew closer and closer as Ail let his old legs transport him.

Finally, inside an abandoned, dark room, the voice was now fully clear to the captain to perceive.

"Everything is going to be okay, young one. I am here. I am here.", he tries to assure her.

He sees blue eyes staring at him.

In an instant, they changed from a pleading pain to a sharp, aggressive stare. They then began to lift up, their position passing the height of the captain swiftly. He now heard the clacking of hooves.

"I know.".

Then, a hit to his head, flinging him into darkness.

[PRESENT]

Reality returned to him when something hit him.

Spit hits his forehead, rolling down his body in its visceral slowness. A displeasing grunt escapes the metallic woman in front of him. She took a drag from a cigarette, letting the smoke exhaust from her nose and mouth a moment later. Her face was now contorted with suppressed fury. It seemed that the lack of answer was a capital offense to her.

Ail would probably feel a sense of joy from that, feeling proud of his own defiance. However, he could not derive any pleasure from this, knowing the consequence of defiance to prisoners of war. Dire consequences, which the robot lady seemed to have realised she was permitted to enforce.

She gestures to another robot woman next to her, whispering somethin into her ear and sending her off with a dismissive gesture.

Moments later, a much smaller robot lady came in tow with the returning bigger one.

Her expression showed no emotion beyond a slight sense of arrogance. Her forehead was adorned with three red diamond-shaped dots which seem to glow slightly in the dimness of the room they were in. She also seemed to wear something similar to protective armor on her chest, painted pale white too.

Ail could not help but stare in confusion.

A grave mistake.

His mind began to drum in pain, his vision became a blurr of static and red, and his sense of touch lost all control over itself, worsening the pain in his head. It felt like someone was scraping his mind in the most violent way possible, searching for anything remotely valuable.

This was Hell on Earth for the poor captain.

[X]

Meanwhile, in another solar system...

On the outskirts of one of many Earth Federation moon bases, two mobile suits engaged in a fierce sword fight. Their beam sabers clashed with rippling crackles of electric currents clashing, each machine trying to push the other away. The heads of the machines locked their cameras to one another, staring the opponent down despite the lack of facial features. The thrusters on their mechanical being roared with every ounce of power the engines connected to them could give them. No side was letting down in any form or way. Nor should they, considering what is happening right now.

From the comms of a radio inside one of the machines, a rowdy voice lets out a mocking cackle. "Ready to give up, birdie?", was the comment that followed the laugh, only to be subsided by another cackle. A groan could be heard from the cockpit.

Elster, like many other of her kind, was not so easily to be intimidated or infuriated, even in the face of imminent danger. They kept their cool, they kept going and, most importantly, they kept promises. And she would be a fool to not keep this particular promise!

"In your dreams, Cheda.", the Replika threw back, with a small, confident smile forming on her synthetic face.

Finally, the machines break the clash, switching their tactics up to start circling the other one in a bid to outmaneuver one another.

At the same time, far away from the action taking place in the desolate surface of the Earth's natural satellite, some figures observe said action with intent, some with pen and paper clipped to a board, some with just their gaze locked to the scene at hand. Notes were made by some, writing down observations while also checking some readings on a seperate monitor. Said monitors seemed to keep track of the machines' output and the pilots' vitals. While the machine scale seemed to have hit its limit, the vitals of the pilots seemed to be subpar, if the displeased huffs and murmurs of the noting observers are to be judged.

"Verdict?", came from an arriving officer, having just entered the room through the shifting door.

One of scientists turned around to give the officer a shake with the head, his face disappointed.

"The machines have reached their limits, sir. The pilots have exceeded them by a wide margin. They begin to become sluggish with them.", the scientist said.

A grimacing snarl escaped the higher-ranked officer.

This is the third time this week, every time it's the same cycle: New mobile suit. These two pilot them. They begin to outgrow the specs of said mobile suits. They begin to become sluggish. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and fucking repeat. This cannot continue on. So much was clear to Commanding Officer Hafy Liver. In scenarios like these, he wished he could snap the solution into existence, but alas, he is not a newtype with a Unicorn Unit. He could die for senses as sharp as these folks.

Wait a fucking minute!

Like a strike of lightning, he seemed to have had an epiphany. And when he turned around to see head researcher Laga Dyga in the eyes, he immediately saw that the scientist seemed to have reached the same conclusion. They both understood in that moment what that meant.

"Newtype development?".

"Newtype development.".

And with that, Liver excused himself from the observation room, now having to do the necessary paperwork to get that development project into motion. Lord knows how he would have to approach the peeps at Anaheim Electronics with that whole situation. He could not help but ponder on how similar this seems to play out to the biographies of the officers from the White Base Crew. He felt like he had been hit with a déjà vu, despite the fact that this is his first time in such a time and place. Oh well, best not to think too hard about it!

[LATER...]

Far away from the sparring and testing and whatnot, two women stroll down the streets that make up the shopping district of Von Braun City. They observe the liveliness of the bustling city folk passing next to them, going their merry way this late in the day, though said day is hard to perceive temporally when the sun is dimming down to herald the night in the most artificial manner possible. But for Ariane, this was basically a gift from the gods compared to the little sunlight she would receive from her own home back in the day. Perhaps this had played a role in why she is so pale, in hindsight. Or not. She is not an expert in biology.

Despite that, witnessing a city this alive and colorful, not to mention with this level of high tech, was a delight for the passionate artist at heart. But a pang of guilt does creep itself down her consciousness, feeling as if she is basically abandoning everyone she cared about for what many would call a decadent luxury. Especially where her friends and mother are involved.

Not her aunt, though.

Or her old bullies.

Or AEON Command.

Or that Kolibri Blockwart that kept pestering her when she thought even the slightest disgruntlement.

Or the Eule that told her that her creativity is a mistake and she should curb it out of her system permanently.

In fact, in hindsight, Ariane would probably just say 'Fuck Everyone' except her mother and friends.

Besides them, everyone can rot in their own misery.

Suddenly, she felt a hand harshly pull her backwards, near falling on her ass from the sudden shift. Turns out her little mental tangent caused her to nearly walk into oncoming traffic, as the honking and speeding cars would have indicated. And her supposed savior was none other than her companion for this trip, Barbra.

"Were your thoughts in the clouds, Miss Yeong?", Barbra said with concern.

"Uhhh...".

"Nevermind. We are already nearly there. Just around the corner, now.".

The pink-haired doctor gestured towards a turning point on the sidewalk, which directly led to a whole block full of different types of shops and markets, all loudly advertising themselves with neon signs and what else.

For Ariane, this was the brightest thing she has seen since that one time she and her dear Elster passed the sun of her solar system.

She was excited over what this day could now bring. And she hoped that Elster is doing fine as well. But more importantly, she hoped her mother and friends were doing okay.

[MUCH LATER...]

Back in Eusan Space...

The colossal, yet empty circular room that made up the War Room of the High Command was dimly lit by the mechanical candles of the pillars upholding the dark ceiling above. Surrounding a circular table with a monitor display as its center stood an assortment of personnel, all dressed in different combinations of red, black and gold. Each of them had not a single smile on their face, not even the youngest among them. All of them were silently staring at each other with hidden contempt, contempt they would not allow to show each other lest a punishment would be in order. They also observed the star map displayed on the monitor, highlighting certain points that go beyond their established solar system.

Finally, one of the commanding presences had the gall to speak up, letting out his sneering, youthful voice in the process. "So, it is certain to assess that this enemy, as established by what little data we gathered from Kommandantin Kriemhild's failed and highly unauthorized assault, is well-armed and much more advanced than what we have in our military arsenal.", he says. A round of scoffs echo around, denying any feasability in the last part of the statement.

Regardless, another voice picked up the conversation. This time, it was a more harsh, but feminine voice. "While we all disagree on the last part, the fact still remains that this new threat to our order has made its intentions clear. They do not tolerate our operations in any form or way. This cannot be allowed to be remain unadressed!", she says, the latter part slowly becoming more loud and aggressive as it went on. A murmur of agreement follows her statement.

Yet another voice then spoke up. It was a much older, raspier voice, showing experience and gravitas. "From what we have extracted from our 'guest', this enemy force uses similarly mechanical extensions to fight more effectively on the battlefield.". He pulls out a sheet of paper, examining it closer with weary eyes. "They are called 'Mobile Suits', as the Kolibri Unit had reported.", he said with a bit of caution. "Memories of the prisoner showed the prowess of these machines from a closer perspective. From this, we gathered that these machines could become a problem to our army should a large-scale confrontation with them be inevitable.". He then adds: "Which it is.".

Rounds of agreement follow.

The sneering voice speaks up again. "Then it is fortunate to announce that I have made sure to start a covert operation for this kind of scenario.". With a push from a remote, he moved the map closer to an unknown spherical object. "Our intel, as gathered from our 'guest', revealed a facility on a celestial object near their homeworld, one that contains crucial data on their war machines and such.". Another push on the remote switched the image to a city-like structure, similarly round in shape. "The memories revealed the place to be called Von Braun, and the distance is already calculated to be manageable with a covertly passable spacecraft. The plan therefore is to lock some of our best spies in there to gain access to the archives and steal the data for our own purpose. With the data at hand, we can begin the manufacture of a counteraction against the enemy's forces.". One last push, and the monitor switched back to the standard solar system. "All that is left to do is for me to get the necessary approval from the council present.", he said. "All in favor for what I call 'Operation Luna'?".

Silence.

Then one hand rose up.

Then another.

Then even more.

Almost all hands were up, except for the one belonging to the old man with the raspy voice.

"This is risky, Kommandant Nagendra. Are you sure there is no alternative to this?", came from the old man.

A twitch on Nagendra's was briefly visible. "Are you questioning my plan, Kommandant Ji-Min?", he slithered out of his mouth.

Ji-Min huffed in gruffness.

"Oh well, I already got the majority, and the majority always wins.".

The old man growled in displeasure.

Either way, the rest of the commanding officers declare the meeting to be over, leaving their seats to go about the rest of their day, dealing with whatever position they worked in. Everyone had left the room in the shroud of darkness, declaring the mission of their people one more time. 'Glory to the Eusan Nation'. Everyone left, except one person.

Fools. The snake called the others in his head, unheard by all, even the Kolibris who monitor the activities of the room from behind the pillars. All of them. Little did they know I already set this plan in motion weeks ago! By now, my spy must have reached the city and hid himself in plain sight among the populace! Now, I just have to make sure that the distraction the actual 'mission' becomes follows all the steps I laid out!

A wicked smile formed on his face.

My superiority and my promotion will be set in stone with this, and these losers will finally get the boot they so deserve!

[BACK IN THE CITY]

Bags full of clothes and other articles of interest shuffle between each other while being carried by hands. While Barbra struggled a bit with the weight, Ariane had no such issues. Her mechanical prosthetics kept the weight as a non-issue for her, something she silently is delighted in. Despite the loss of her limbs and the tedious process of getting back on her feet with artificial ones, she took to them with no issue. No biological rejection or anything. Her body probably stopped resisting a long time ago, or maybe it stopped giving a fuck. In the end, the pain was mostly gone, with only the occasional phantom pain in certain areas.

The duo made their way through the still bustling streets, continuing to enjoy the scenery. At least, Ariane is. For Barbra, this is basically old hat.

"I cannot believe you chose THAT kind of get-up from the clothing shops. I thought you were more the dresses type!", the doctor whined slightly.

Ariane turned her head around to give the good doctor a nonchalant shrug.

"Felt just right to get that. It looked perfect on me!".

Suddenly, she bumps into someone, causing her to nearly fall on her ass again. "My- Verzeihen sie, I am so, so sorry right now!", she blurted out, trying her hardest to apologize. "Is everything okay, mister...uhhhh...?".

In front of her stood a tall, masculine figure, wearing nothing but a sharp suit and a snazzy pair of shoes. His head was adorned with short, black hair and his eyes shimmered with a red glow. He had a forgiving smile on his face, his expression was also similarly relaxed.

"The name is Cinco.", he said with a soothing voice. "Cinco Benis.".

Chapter Text

[THIS IS NOT AN ANIME!]

A quiet buzz filled the claustrophobic cell he calls his prison, the dim light of the single bulb above him barely illuminating the whole room to a passable degree.

The cycle was always the same. Solitary time in the cell, extraction from Guards, restriction to the blatant torture chamber they call an interrogation room, and interrogation for valuable information, often with violent probing of the mind. Solitary, Extraction, Restriction, Interrogation. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat for the last two month, ever since his kidnappers took him away from his crew. This route did not seem to highlight an end at its tunnel, the sadistic glee of the guards and interrogators, all facismiles of flesh over metal, did not help matters at all.

And for what purpose?

Simply put, to learn.

To learn about the enemy as a whole. To discover their threat level. To discover their weaknesses. But most importantly, to find something to break, something that brings deeply personal pain.

From him, they extracted everything they could find about all of these things and so much more.

The Earth Federation, the Mobile Suits, the Military...

The people dearest to him.

He could not forget what the interrogator said to him when she found out what motivated and worried him the most.

"Perhaps a visit from us would make you more compliant with our demands?".

The nearly existencial dread and horror that swept him off his feet was just the cherry on top for these people.

And his time was running out. The more they extracted, the less useful he becomes to them. Eventually, they will get rid of him, having outlived his usefulness to their ambitions.

But he refuses to let them have the last laugh.

He must persevere, no matter the cost.

And the plan to escape was just the thing that would help put this mantra to work.

So, he began to work out, unseen from the wards just outside his containment. Every day since his arrival, he worked out. He planned. He buried the plans so deep that not even their mind tricks could get them. He trained body and mind to resist, to deceive and, most importantly, to overpower.

Eventually, he felt a flash zapping through his mind.

A ward opened the window to his cell, inspecting it of any dissent, attempted or otherwise.

The only thing she saw was a man, pitifully slumped against the wall. She sneered at the sight. "What a waste of fresh air...", she not-so-silently whispered. She then shoved the tray with food through the window, pushing it far enough that its weight tilted it into dropping on the floor of the cell, splattering its contents everywhere. The window then closed again, leaving Ail alone once more.

In an instant, he dropped the facade of the feeble, pathetic old man and went bad to his routine.

He will escape.

No matter what.

I will not let them hurt you, my child.

[Outside the cell...]

Footsteps rythmically echo through the metallic and concrete halls of the complex, illuminated with dim, red light. Said steps belong to a figure wearing a warden uniform, the hat shadowing the face due to the dim lighting. Said figure was feminine in stature, but radiated an aura of regality in her movement. A small smile was visible on her face.

The figure passed the cells with dismissal her, her invisible eyes glued on the path only she knew she was taking.

However, she halted at one particular cell.

Cell 512.

The cell of the captain.

Without a single word, she could hear something.

Not from words.

But from thoughts.

A white strain of hair slipped down from her hat. Nonchalantly, she pushed it back inside. She picks up on the thoughts with ease.

I will not let them hurt you, my child.

The smile evolved into a smirk.

She continued her trek afterwards.

One passing light revealed a pair of red eyes beneath the shadow of the hat.

Everything goes according to plan.

Only thing left is my little surprise springing into action, elsewhere...

[At the moon base...]

It was a busy day at the research facility, overall.

Researchers discussed the most recent data regarding the speculated development of their test subjects' newtype abilities. Others are wondering how a robot could even develop signs of such mental advancements at all. A few others were just pondering on what to do next in regards to everything that has transpired so far. And Commanding Officer Hafy Liver? He continued to stare outside the reinforced, stained windows of the base, observing the surface of the moon around them in quiet contemplation. Similar to his peers, he was speechless and planning the next step. However, unlike his peers, he also felt a sense of déjà vu.

Like this is not a first-time occurence.

Any further thoughts that could have gone into this trail of thought dissipated when the doors opened and closed, revealing the two test subjects in question.

The first one to step in was the robot woman herself, Elster Yeong. She looked stoic as ever, put a twinge of mild annoyance could be seen to creep up for just a faint moment. Her walk was strict and focused, something expected from a soldier.

Following her was the other subject of testing, Cheda Cheise. She looked much more visibly annoyed, loudly complaining to her fellow subject about something. The only things identified from the rant seem to involve body odor and a shower. Her walk was much more relaxed and non-professional, in comparison.

Both subjects made their way to Liver, whose gaze still remained glued to the window.

Cheda was the first one to speak up. "Can anyone in this room tell me what this darn non-stop mobile suit testing and sparring and what-the-fucking-ever is supposed to accomplish?", she complained. "I'm feelin' myself getting sore in spots I didn't know ya could get sore spots in!", she added with further complaint.

Elster also had something to say in that regard: "It would be beneficial to know what the continued experiments are supposed to accomplish.". She then adds: "While I do not share the same intensity as my friend over here, I do feel myself getting my patience tested by the continued stay in the darkness on the important matters.". A subdued huff escaped her artificial throat.

Without turning around, Liver simply decided to give them the answers they sought. "It has come to our attention that the both of you are developing the traits of what is officially called a 'Newtype'.", he explained with a authorative and focused tone. His hands were now crossed behind his back.

Cheda raised an eyebrow before slumping into a groan. "Urgh...Not this space hippie crap!", she whined. "It was already bad hearing about 'the sparkles' and shit from my folk back home, but now even here?! Come on, sir, this is ridiculous!", she added.

While her face remained as stone-faced as before, a faint trace of confusion swept over the Replika. "What is a Newtype?", she simply asked.

Cheda turned to her with a face that screamed that she was just done with everything. "Just a bunch of Space Hocus Bogus, I tell you hwat! Something about understanding with mind powers and shit, makes you read the next moves 'n' such!", she ranted.

Elster was now even more confused.

"That sounds similar to Bioresonance...", she responds in a muttering manner.

In a twist of events, it was now Cheda's turn to be confused.

"Bio-whatnow?".

Elster waved her hand.

"Bioresonance. Something like mind powers. Ariane seems to have that, judging from the way she talked to us from beyond her coma. Remember?".

Something clicked in Cheda.

"Oh. Oh, shit!", she nearly shouted in dawning realisation.

A stern cough refocused the two back to the superior officer in front of them, who finally had turned around to meet them eye-to-eye.

"Anyway...Since the both of you displayed such qualities that fateful day at the HQ, we were tasked in analysing your capabilities. Mostly to better accommodate them for future combat scenarios.", he explained. He turned back around, looking back outside with a contemplative expression. "However, personally...It is also to better understand how such a level of human understanding can even be achieved at all. Ever since the phenomenon was discovered all those centuries ago, even after a period of medieval darkness of knowledge, the Newtype remained strong as a concept. Revolutions were incited by it, wars were fought around it...But never was there a time where peace was achieved through it. I would like to see such a time in my life before I pass into the afterlife, to be completely honest.". He chuckled. "My apologies for getting so philosophical. Probably bored you with my ramblings, didn't I?".

Elster, politely, denied such a claim with a shake from her head.

Cheda did not care for politeness. At all. She rolled her eyes at the entire lecture, having no interest in all of this and making it very clear with her expression.

"Yeah, yeah, interesting...What do we do now, sir?", she dismissively responds.

Liver sighed.

"The researchers suggested using the learning computers in your mobile suits to gather combat data over time and use said data to adjust and accommodate the creation of mobile suits that are more fine-tuned to your personal specifications, while also upgrading them to accommodate your newtype abilities as well.", he explained.

Cheda rolled her eyes again.

Elster, however, was still pondering about the whole 'Newtype' thing.

Is it truly similar to Bioresonance? And it seems to be not in need of any outside influence, too...Could Ariane even be one of these Newtypes, too?

She was not sure.

Not at all.

[Somewhere else...]

I need a fucking coffee.

Continuous sips from the mug containing the brown substance of desire trickle down the fleshy throat, the burning sensation awakening the grey matter of its host in an instant. Tired eyes remain stationary in their shape, however, as they stared intently at the monitor in front of it. Blonde, wooly hair rustled with the few motions of the body it is attached to. Sighs upon sighs escape the same, now mug-freed throat.

On days like these, Rick Shead would love nothing more than to do his job in peace, usually with his favourite blend of coffee by his side. However, with their current assignments being stationed at the most loudly bustling place possible (even with the fact that there is a whole difference called the vacuum of space in-between it), the peace he sought was a delusional dream broken and ground into dust and ashes. His nerves do not enjoy this at all. But his nerves hate a lot of things in general. Stress was his eternal enemy, and he preferred to keep his enemies far away from himself as humanly possible.

Fingers continued to tap onto the keyboard in front of him.

Being given the job to filter out data related to combat performances is not really something he does with a certain frequency, but his so-called 'crewmembers' had to open their mouths and vouch for his computer skills of all things.

As if I am that good at this shit...

Footsteps echoed through the hall connected to the room of his work, the door wide open for the maximum audibility of sounds. They seem to get closer to his current position, however. A prospect Rick had to visibly suppress a loud groan of annoyance for.

If there is one thing I hate more than annoying sounds even in the void of space, it is interruptions by some ensign or intern having a problem with the fucking coffee machine again!

With a drawling manner behind it, he swerved his head towards the door, ready to give whoever came to him was ready to be verbally chewed out.

What he did not expect was to see a face he never saw around here.

Especially with those glowing red eyes.

Then, he noticed the lack of ID.

"Wait a minute... Who are yo-".

[X]

In an instant, something hit him on the head. His consciousness began to drift away, taking a tour around the land of dreams. His body collapsed to the ground like a slack sack of potatoes, shoving his chair into parts unknown.

A sneer escaped the stranger who took him down.

"Kinderspiel...".

[Earlier...]

"Cinco Benis.".

A simple, unassuming name, as his superiors had explained to him. Easy to remember, but fitting enough for the naming conventions of the enemy forces, as was also explained to him. The perfect naming disguise.

They did not tell him that the reaction to such a name would be so... embarrassing.

Considering the woman with the pink hair started laughing her ass off in front of him, point at his face with a stretched-out finger.

And it seemed the laughter was infectuous, as the traitor began to cackle her lungs out as well, probably having realised something about the name.

Never has Wannheim Kremmel ever felt himself so humiliated in front of people than he does now.

After a while, however, the two women calmed down and stopped laughing at him, all the while trying to mudder something resembling an apology out of their mouths. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they fully stopped the Schadenfreude. The pink-haired lady shook her head. "Sorry! Sorry...", she squeeked out of her mouth like a mouse on helium.

Playing it cool, Cinco simply politely dismissed the whole thing peacefully. "Not an issue. I blame my parents for that.", he lied. A simple, but humble lie. The most powerful tool of a spy.

Finally regaining her composture, the pink-haired lady retorts. "I hope we did not get on the wrong, sir!", she explained. "Something like this is usually unbecoming of me, really!", came in addition. The traitor, identified from documents as Ariane Yeong, nodded in agreement, though with the occasional stifle of a chuckle, probably still reeling from the name. The pink-haired lady spoke up once more: "Anyway, the name is Barbra. I apologize for the clumsiness of my friend over here. She did not mean to hurt you in any shape!". She gestured to Ariane, who switched expressions from amused to embarrassed.

Cinco just waved his hand. "Not an issue, really.", he politely explains. Then, an idea flashed through his head. Simple, but effective in fulfilling his mission. "Say...Do you know where the headquarters is by any chance? I am interested in joining.", he asked.

Barbra raised an eyebrow, confused. "The headquarters? Joining?", she let the words dance on her tongue.

Cinco nodded in affirmation. "Yes, joining! I wanna join!", he replied with a tinge of faked enthusiasm.

Barbra huffed in amusement. "Well, if you wish to join the EFF, you would have to actually go to the office down the street. It is not the Headquarters...", she explained.

Cinco's inner face dropped in annoyance.

"...But it is close to it. Two buildings next to it, I think.", Barbra added.

Cinco mentally sighed in relief.

Hastingly, he grabbed Barbra's hand and shook it with gusto. "Thank you, miss Barbra! Thank you!", he hastingly added. With nothing left to lose, he ran off.

Barbra looked on to the scene that just played out with confusion and amusement.

"Weird man.", she said.

She then noticed Ariane's face. The white-haired woman had a puzzled expression plastered all over it. She seemed to be in deep thought.

"Ariane? You okay?", Barbra asked.

In an instant, Ariane snapped back to reality, looking her friend with slight traces of being spooked, probably from suddenly being spoken to.

"Yes? Oh! Ehhh...Just thinking.".

Barbra's eyebrow rose again.

"Thinking what?".

Ariane shook her head dismissively.

"Nothing important. Thought he looked familiar.".

Both huffed in amusement. They then broke out into chuckles again, probably thinking about the silly name of the man again. They picked up their stuff and continued their trek through the jungle of the city, minding their own business once more.

Until, completely out of the blue, something similar to a spine-chilling, cold sensation ran down Ariane's spine. Almost as if something invisible just passed her. Almost like a ghost, in a sense...

[Back to the Now.]

[Download in Process...]

[1% Complete.]

Having disposed of the body, Cinco made himself at home at the computation terminal the officer was using, searching through the files at hand for anything useful, especially in relation to the machines they use. After the upteenth file, he struck Gold with a file labeled 'Anaheim Electronics related Stuff'. In there, quite visibly too, was a folder with the name 'Blueprints. Exactly what he was looking for. Next were the files related to classified documents and exchanges between high-ranking officials. Cracking them will probably take time, but when he has returned to his glorious homeland, time will not be an issue anymore.

Without wasting any time, he started copying the folders and files of his mission-oriented interest.

However...

[3% Complete.]

The process seems to be a little slow for his own taste. The tension of being spotted at any point began to eat away on his nerves. His job is a risky one. Not just on the current end he finds himself in, but also from the end came from. His superiors always expecting the impossible from him. And less is said about the constant fear of being targeted by Imperial spies. Those are the wors-

BANG!

[4% Complete.]

[X]

Suddenly, his hand felt cold. Slowly, his entire body began to drop in temperature, his motions becoming harder to perform, his breathing more and more difficult. His vision began to blurr considerably. Inspecting his body with every ounce of strength he had, he felt something liquid pour down his chest. From the blurry vision, he saw something red on his hands. Finally, he collapsed to the ground, his vision slowly fading to darkness.

Before he truly left the plane, however, he made out a silhouette. The symbol on the metallic surface that made up the being in front him told him everything he needed to know. His worst nightmare came true.

"Imperial...Scum...?".

Finally, he stopped thinking altogether.

Over his lifeless corpse stood a strange, robotic being, adorned with a human, feminine face.

Her gaze remained stoic and focused at her kill, her blue eyes inspecting it as if it could rise up again, which it did not.

She switched her gaze to the terminal, seeing the copying that is currently in process.

[22% Complete.]

She puts two fingers on her right temple.

"Do you see this?".

Yes.

Proceed as discussed, my fledgling.

"As you wish.".

With a swift pull, she ripped the copy drive out of the terminal.

[Copying Process Interrupted.]

She inspects the device.

Her gaze switches back to the corpse.

Then to the blonde man, unconscious on the ground.

Suddenly, the voice in her head returns.

Leave him be.

He is unimportant.

Proceed as discussed.

Putting away the drive, the robotic woman pulls out a scalpel, approaching the corpse of the spy with ominous intent...

TO BE CONTINUED...

[X]

Chapter Text

[WHAT THE EYES PERCEIVE IS WHAT LIES YOU RECEIVE!]

Barbra had a good day so far, as she admits to herself in silence.

Not only did she spend some quality time away from the ship and her chosen profession as a medical expert, she got to make a friend in Ariane while at it!

Usually, when she gets some form of free time in her career, she would either grab a book and sit down somewhere to read it in peace and tranquility, or when she feels a little bit lonely and pent up, visit the closest queer bar in town to get some of other 'action' in her life, unrelated to warfare. While the second option is enticing, the first one is much more preferred in the long run. But the shopping trip, which she instigated out of pure boredom, was becoming a strong contender for the pink-haired doctor.

Her thoughts around the fun she had accompany her on her trek through the halls of the Moonbase, having had to return at some point to do the rest of her assignments. She is a busy woman, after all. Doctors are busy people, even in times of relative peace. At least, as peaceful as 'having an unknown extrasolar regime threatening you' as it can get.

As she passed the curved corner on the left, she bumps shoulders with a another figure.

"Oh! Sorry!", the good doctor said, turning around to directly give that apology.

Her eyes instantly glue onto the form of the figure in front of her. Everything about the figure of the person seems to be uncanny to some extend. From the lanky, tall stature, the uniform that seems to be hastingly put on, to the covered face itself screamed suspicion to the pinkette. This person looked like what the younger folk on the web would have called an imposter or a skinwalker of sorts.

"No need for apologies.", came out a raspy, nearly coarse voice.

It was as if something sharp scratched on chalkboard. It sent a shiver down the doctor's spine. She has never anything like this before.

But before she could react to anything in that regard, the mysterious figure seems to have vanished from her sight completely.

She hoped that this was just a nightmarish daydream.

Putting that strange ecounter aside, she continued down the path she wanted to take.

Only to come across a disturbing sight.

She could not help but scream.

[X]

Elster has seen violence in her life before.

At least, judging from the memories of her Gestalt Basis. From her own, and really her own, she only saw violence through the monitors of a walking war machine, never with her own eyes. Only the bad dreams she has from time to time show such barbaric viscerity in their brutality.

So seeing a scalped and derobed corpse laid bare on an operating table comes to a surprise for the Replika, and not the good kind of surprise. In her own mind, she often prides herself as having a literal iron will, being able to stomach even the most heinous crap out there. But what she sees here makes her mechanical stomach slightly turn itself upside down in revulsion. And if the disgust is not going to hammer her down, it is going to be the anger that was brewing beneath her synthetic skin.

She has grown to care for others a little bit, and seeing stuff like this really puts that developed care through the wringer.

It also does not help that the other people present seem just as unnerved as she is.

Especially Doctor Rossa, who seems to be holding back the urge to vomit on the spot.

Elster is thankful that Ariane is currently not with them.

Seeing this might upset her, especially considering how her situation looked like back on the Penrose after a while.

"Do we have a clue on who did it?", Liver demanded in his usual militaristic tone, aimed at the circle of people around the corpse.

Barbra shook her head in denial. "No clue. Only thing we found was an unconscious Mister Shead in one of the room's corners. Aside from some damage towards his head, he is unharmed and in recovery.", she muses. Her breath was giving away her nervousness. Elster could see the blood in her run cold, almost as if something ground her gears.

Liver grunts. He was no Captain Ail, that Elster quickly understood. The captain had an air of care and consideration to his mannerisms, the Commanding Officer on the other hand was colder than the winters of Sierpinski. Not a trace of a good mood can be found on the elderly face. But, moments before, he seemed somewhat intruiged, even befuddled by the prospect of this 'Newtype', the thing Elster still is not sure what it exactly is in the long run.

"Anything else? Maybe from the method of murder, perhaps?", he asked with focus.

Her fellow so-called 'Newtype' friend, Cheda, seemed annoyed, as her groans could indicate.

"Isn't it obvious, sir?!", she retorts. "There is an impostor among our ranks! A person playing puppet with the skin of a man!". She gestures up and down the body in frantic pendulum. "Why else would someone skin a person's hide? It's so obvious that we have a spy in the base!", she loudly explains.

Before she could yap on, however, Officer Liver swiftly shut her up with a silencing gesture, to which she complied reluctantly.

"While I appreciate the imput, Lieutenant Cheise, and find your reasoning easy to understand, I would rather not have another tirade of yours in this tense hour. Understood?", he says.

Cheda grunted, annoyed but following the order.

The Officer turned back to the rest of the group. "Since this is a breach of our security, I will put the facility under lock-down until we find that impostor and detain him for future interrogation!". He taps a finger on the table, emphasizing his point. "Everyone in this facility will need to be on high alert! I demand an immediate report if anything suspicious has been detected by anyone!", he explained. He lifts his finger, pointing consecutively on each of the people present. "That goes for you all as well! If you have seen anything, report to me!".

Suddenly, something lit up in Barbra's eyes.

"Sir, I might have a clue on who it could be...".

[Later, somewhere else in the facility...]

Hasty steps, metallic by nature but dampened through the coverage of heavy boots, echo through the facility halls. Any passing personnel barely gets a chance to register the individual to whom these strong steps belong to, nor do they have the capacity to stop them. But what most seem to notice is a subtle lack of breathing or even coughing from the flash that passed them.

The flesh of the spy wobbled against the synthetic cranium it covered, having been put on in a swift and time-keeping manner. In a field like the one she was built for, time is not only key, but also a resource best kept sparse and under wraps. She might have fulfilled the first part of her mission, but the most difficult aspect has yet to be achieved: Leaving the facility intact and unharmed. That, her superior had made abundantly clear. Her survival is not part of the key, but the insurance that the item arrives at its foretold destination take priority. Such decreed her master, in the end. Such was foretold, as well.

Around the second corner she passed, she finally seemed to have found a spot where the personnel of this forsaken facility is scarce and practically non-existent. Her constant motion, however, prevented her to fully capitalise on this brief sense of tranquility. Once again, she simply does not have the time for a pause of any form.

If the architectural blueprints stolen earlier are any indication, she only has one point for extraction: The spaceship yard. Which is probably infested with fleshbags from head to toe!

Still, if she played her cards right, she might make it through all of this with the package intact.

ALERT!

Or not.

ATTENTION, ALL PERSONNEL!

AN ENEMY SPY HAS INFILTRATED OUR FACILITY!

THE SPY IS CURRENTLY WEARING A SECURITY OFFICER UNIFORM AND THE LYNCHED FACE OF ANOTHER PERSON!

IF YOU DETECT THE PERSON OF SUCH A DESCRIPTION, COMMENCE APPREHENSION AND REPORT!

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY, NO ONE GETS IN OR OUT!

GOOD LUCK!

In an instant, the lights of the facility switched to a bloody red, switching the mood from professional to intensely dangerous.

It was in this moment that the spy knew that the job just got much more than is capable to be handled. On days like these, the prospect of existing for the purpose made into the persona really deserve a round of loathing. She winces under the fleshy mask. Her options have become much more limited, especially since the alert message implied the worst for her previously established plans.

In moments like these, she prayed for a massive distraction to just appear out of thin air.

A distraction, you say?

The spy replika's eyes went wide.

That can be arranged.

Under the flesh mask, a joyously wicked smile crept itself out of the depths of darkness.

[Elsewhere...]

To say the day was a good one would be difficult for Ariane to answer.

Ever since she could remember, the 'good days' in her life were mostly reserved when she was either alone, spending time with her mother, hanging out with the twins or getting intimate with Elster. They tended to be sparse, especially during her youth, where certain people around her made sure that the day she was having was definitely not a good one. Her bullies were the most prime example for such a dip in positivity, particularly when they found her drawing something. She still remembers all the good images she made, lost to the hatred of people unable to process their own misery. But right now, there were no bullies, nor were there any teacher reprimanding her for anything they deemed 'inappropriate' which, as she speculated, was basically just an excure to exert control over those deemed lesser. She felt free for once, free to be happy and free to have a good day. Especiall today, since spending time with a new friend is a good day by her simple definition.

That is, until she felt the biggest headache in her life hammering on her like she was a plank in need of correction. The pain hammering in her head was so intense that she nearly collapsed onto the ground from the weakness it caused her, only migitated by the saving hands of a timely arriving Elster coming to her aid. But even the presence of her lover was not enough to stop drumming hammer falling down on her mind. Her breathing became nearly non-existent, and her vision became blurry.

It was almost as if she felt like she was being warned by something.

Something immensely powerful.

Something incredibly dangerous.

The ominous feeling of dread swept over her like a wave of the ocean, burying her senses beneath them and making her unable to hear the worrying pleas of her lover, who still cradled her pained body.

Meanwhile, Elster panicked. Probably for the first time in her life, she visibly panicked. And considering for whom's safety she breaks her stoicism to panic, she has every right to do it. Her repeated shouts for an answer that never came made the sizzling dread in her all the more painful to bear.

Until she felt some pass by her.

But there was nothing.

Almost like it was there, but not here.

And then, she felt it more strongly. The shape, the haste, the focus. A person was moving somewhere where she should not be going towards.

Almost like a prediction.

And her mechanical guts screamed at her to follow that prediction to the letter.

Her face hardened. Without wasting any time, she picked up Ariane in a bridal style and made a beeline to the infirmiary, where she gently deposited her lover for the doctors to nurse and check up on her. At least barbra was present in that case, so Elster had little to worry for her safety.

She ran as fast as her hooves could carry her, passing personnel with clumsy dodges and apologetic huffs.

She could feel the presence of whatever her prediction warned her about. Her guts and logical part agreed that it might have something to do with the spy among their ranks. But one question remained in the magpie's head: Why going to the mobile suit and ship bay?

It took her a fleeting look out of the window to see the reason.

Just outside the base hovered an entire fleet of Eusan Space Naval Battle Carriers, fully armed and ready to lay waste to their surroundings!

She picked up her pace even more, now.

[X]

Heavy boots stamp the ground with fast steps as Commanding Officer Liver entered the communications bridge. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked pissed off as all hell. "What in the name of Zeon Zum Deikun's santa claus beard is going out there?! Why is there an entire unidentified fleet of warships aiming their weapons at us?!", he shouted at the bridge crew present, who seemed to desperately trying to do something about the whole thing, especially finding an answer to their superior's question. But they seemed to be as lost as he is. "No answers, sir! They reject any request for a proper communications channel!", one of the crewmembers shouted back in a panic.

"Then what the hell are we dealing with, officer?", Liver shouted back in retaliation.

Glancing at his monitor, the officer seemed to skim through a lot of files. "Not a clue, sir!", he replied. "The database does not identify the ship with anything! It is neither Zeonic, nor Zanscare, nor Cosmo Babylonia, nor CONSENT!", he added.

"Not even Crossbone Vanguard?", Liver balked.

"Especially not even Crossbone Vanguard, sir!".

This was a nightmare. Suddenly, Liver had a lot more respect for Merry, the poor fool. He had to deal with this first and came out unscathed. His presence would be of great assistance right now. Regardless, he was currently in charge of the facility, so it fell to him to make the heavy decisions.

"Mobilise any mobile suit in the vicinity and engage the enemy fleet! Take these birds from the black sky!", he ordered. God, save us all...

But God did not answer.

Nor did he forgive.

[X]

Out of the hall door and into the hangar housing an assortment of space-capable vehicles, the replika spy immediately made a straight line for the smallest and most inconspicuous ship in there. However, just when she was halfway near it, a bullet grazed her mechanical arm. Wincing in pain, she turns around to see who dared to shoot her nearly in the back, only to come face-to-face with another Replika. An LSTR Unit, to be exact, who stared and aimed at the spy with fury and stoicism, her gun held firmly in her grip and aimed directly at her target.

"HALT!", the Unit shouted.

Elster's eyes went wild when she saw the Replika in front of her. It was of a model she had never seen before, nor did she have any knowledge on how to handle such a unit at all. It seemed that the development of Replikas has evolved ever the since their launch from the penrose a decade ago.

In regards to her order, it seemed to have fallen on deaf ears when the other Replika pulled out its own gun and returned fire, causing a shoot-out in the process.

Despite this, the spy never lost track of its target vehicle, and eventually, she managed to slowly work her way to it despite the constant bullets flying around her.

However, Elster did not stand around idly as well, and managed to catch up to the spy just when she was entering the ship. Directly at the door, they sprinted into a brawl, their guns long out of ammo. To say that Elster was subpar in close combat was an insult to her skills as a fighter, but it seemed that the spy had the upper hand in that field, as she managed to throw the other Replika away from her after a short struggle. Wasting not a single minute, the spy shut the door behind her, keeping her pursuer out of her sight for the moment for her to enact the next step of her plan.

That plan being to leave with the package at hand!

Inside the cockpit, the Replika spy wasted no time getting the controls online, grabbing the steering wheel to get the machine off the ground. With a gradual hum, the machine lifted itself off the ground and aimed itself at the hangar door, shut off due to the order from earlier.

The spy thought for a second, and the door began to mysteriously open itself without any input from command. Almost as if someone opened it for her. The sudden dip in pressure also caused what was not bolted down to the ground to be sucked into the void of space. From crates to equipment to smaller ships, everything got sucked out like a vacuum cleaner.

Elster was not an exception.

However, she was a quick thinker. And thinking quick she did when she tied herself to a piece of rubber tubes, preventing herself to become an ice cone in space. With a bit of a struggle, she managed to pull herself to a nearby platform, where she began to crawl to the nearest doorway. It took every ounce of strength to get her to stay put, with the force of the vacuum becoming increasingly more powerful. Eventually, she managed to finally crawl through her destination, wasting little time to hit the emergency shut on the door to stop herself from being sucked out.

Now, she laid there, breathing heavily.

Just another short struggle with certain death.

Judging from her persona's memories, it seemed to be a curse down upon them in a manner.

But Elster does not believe in superstitions.

[Outside the Moon Base...]

Rushing across the dust that made up the surface of the moon of Earth came a squadron of GM Freedoms, spearheaded by Cheda's custom unit. Their designated target was the fleet of ships in the orbit, their mission was either the repellance of the fleet or its complete destruction. Either way, it should serve as a reminder of not challenging the Federation like that and as a good training exercise for the newer pilots of the Space Force. And for Cheda in particular, it was a way to tally up her score against Elster a little bit, even if she is the only one keeping tabs on how many they had shot down back at the battle of the HQ.

"This is Lieutenant Cheda Cheise!", she commanded into the comms connected to the rest of the squadron. "For this assignment, we will follow a flanking pattern, to aim for a thinning of their offense and leaving their defense completely open!", she ordered. "Do you copy that?", she added.

No answer.

"I SAID DO YOU COPY THAT, MAGGOTS?", she screamed.

And out came a collective and scared "YES, MA'AM!".

"THEN MAKE MAMA PROUD, BOYS!".

And with that, they split up to perform their discussed strategic maneuver. Three unit to left, three units to the right, three on collision course for a distraction, which is the position Cheda chose to participate in. Wasting little time to set up as much firepower as possible, she immediately deployed the INCOMS, whose targetting systems lock onto the target head-on. With a firm grip at her controls, she gave the order. "FIRE FROM ALL CORNERS, BOYS!!!", echoed from the comms. And in a spectacle of beam weaponry firing from all barrels, every vulcan roaring with bullets flying at high velocity, and every missile flying like an angel of death at the ships, the mobile suits unloaded everything they had on their enemy target.

Only for it to not do anything.

Instead, as Cheda instantly noticed, it seemed to phase through what should have been a eusan warship like an apparition of the mind. The only thing getting hit in the process is either the cold void space or the ground of the moon, the explosions causing mountains of dust to shoot upwards in a firework of mushroom clouds.

"CEASE FIRE, NOW!".

And the soldiers did as told.

The illusion shattered before their eyes.

There were never any enemy ships.

It was all fake!

In an moment of pondering between moments of disappointment in her own tactical failure, Cheda came to a harrowing conclusion.

"IT'S A FUCKING DISTRACTION!?".

In frustration, she hammered onto the console in front of her, nearly wrecking it with the force of her fist.

"They played us like a flock of Moon Moon Colonists!".

She grabbed the comms.

"Search the perimeter for every nook and cranny! I want the ones responsible to be presented to me on a fucking silver platter!".

And the soldiers listened to that futile command.

[X]

However, unseen to the troops at the front lawn, a small ship escaped the base from the back of it, leaving the celestial body without a single trace or detection.

Inside the ship, the Replika Spy chuckled.

"Mission complete, my mistress", she said to no one around her. "Shall we proceed to the next phase?", she asked. Again, with no one but herself as company. Despite the lack of physical presence, she seemed to have the company of someone else next to her. A silhouette, feminine, royal and delicate in stature, seemed pleased with the results. The shadow, despite lacking a mouth, seemed to smile at the success of her pawn.

Yes.

Let us set the stage for a rousing finale!

A finale worthy of an empress!

[END OF ARC 2: LUNAR DECEPTION]

[TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FINAL ARC]

Chapter Text

Two months later...

"Is everything ready for the test?".

Inside a room filled with machinery and consoles finely tuned for the measurement of whatever is currently being tested, Kommandant Nagendra stood expectantly in front of the bulletproof glass that seperated the monitoring room from the massive hollow that was the experimenting chamber. His expression lacked the usual slithering sneer, eyes frozen in place at the object that currently occupied their testing grounds. An impatient frown crept up his slightly middle-aged features. Sure, the intel was brought as planned, but something seemed off about the data handed to them. The stolen data was fragmented in almost every aspect, all but in one category. That category being brainwaves. The mobile suit data was incomplete in of itself, not enough to make a full copy of any of the machines that these scumbags had. He had to adapt his plan accordingly, at the end of the day.

"Prototype Unit, codenamed Statur, is complete and ready for the test drive, Kommandant.", a scientist at the panels signaled back, his eyes glued to the stats displayed on the monitor in front of him.

Nagendra huffed. The test drive better bring results or he will personally send the failure of a scientist responsible for such shoddy craftsmanship to Sierpinski to rot for the rest of his life. He is risking his position by working behind his colleagues' back, especially after lying about the status of the mission. To their knowledge, whatever is transpiring here does not exist. And he sure as all Hell hopes to keep it that way, at least until he can present his hopefully fruitful results to the Great Revolutionary herself!

"Commence the experiment, then.", he ordered.

Without a response, the scientist typed in something to start the testing.

Inside the testing chamber, a bridge extends itself to the hatch of the mobile suit that stood inactive in the center of it, automatically open said hatch to the reveal of an empty cockpit. At the other end of the bridge, a door shifts open, revealing a hooved, feminine figure. As the door was now fully opened, the figure, quickly revealed to be Replika of a sorts, marched forward, stoically. Her metallic body was adorned with a schematic of red, white and deep dark gunmetal gray, her hair a wild short cut and her ears non-existent, instead being replaced with communicators and antennae. Her eyes, the same blue with red centers as all the other replikas, looked forward, targeting the cockpit.

Built for a purpose, that purpose must be fulfilled.

But what is her purpose?

She stops in her tracks in the middle of the bridge.

Nagendra immediately noticed and growled. The scientist noticed the growl and began to sweat. He grabbed the microphone next to him and pushed a button. A slightly screetch could be heard from the chamber.

"Taktische Angriffs- und Unterstützungs-Einheit Number Zero, please continue with the experiment.", the scientist ordered with a visible octave of panic.

The unit snapped back into its routine and marched forward, finally reaching the cockpit and entering it. The hatch closes the moment she sat down. Inside the dark structure of monitors, displays and control units, the Replika stood still.

"Proceed as planned, Number Zero.", came from her built-in communication link.

She grabbed the controls in her seat.

The machine awoke, a pinkish-red, singular light igniting in the head structure of the machine.

Motors began to whirr as they were brought to life.

From the surveillance, the scientist confirms something good for the Kommandant.

"All systems are in the green, sir!", he said.

Finally, Nagendra smiled in his usual snake-like manner.

"Excellent...", he drawled out.

The scientist took this as an order.

"Proceed with motoric tests!", he ordered through the microphone.

The mobile suit began to move around, testing the rotation and response of the mechanical limbs that make up the machine. The monitor of the scientist recorded the results and measurements, probably for possible improvement in further developments. Another monitor showed the vitals of the piloting Replika, recording the neural responses of the whole experiment. And Nagendra continued to enjoy the fruits of his shady workings.

Unbeknownst to them, and for a lack of attention given to it, the vitals monitor showed a crucial message in black and red.

"[ACHTUNG! PERSONA-DEGRADATION ERKANNT!]" was displayed in the most transparent manner, but remained on deaf ears and blind eyes.

This, in turn, will bring consequences...

Meanwhile...

Deep breaths. In and out. Patience is key.

Three sentences repeat themselves in a loop inside the mind of a certain prisoner, sitting still and quiet inside his holding cell, with only the red light above him giving him a sense of company.

Deep breaths. In and out. Patience is key.

It took him a few months of careful planning and little bit of luck, but now, he had everything in place to enact his escape plan.

Deep breaths. In and out. Patience is key.

He memorized the layout. He memorized the guard shifts through hidden observation. He developed a sense of approaching danger almost clairvoyant in speed. All of this and so much more will serve him well on his mission.

Deep breaths. In and out. Patience is key.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming his way. Judging from the force, it was the one he awaited the most to come. And from that point, he knew...

It is time.

Outside the cell, guard began to hear screams of agony from the second cell coming his way. With rising suspicion, he rushed to the cell to investigate the odd noise, ready to verbally chew out the inmate for disrupting the resting hours. "HEY! No screaming during-". His last words died in his throat when he noticed the unmoving corpse of the inmate in question. Without hesitation, he opened the cell to look. Carefully, he approached the dead corpse in front of him, kneeling to a closer level for further ivestigation. The colors of the man laying down in front him lacked any sense of living, made worse by the look of agony painting the face of the old coot. If it were anyone other than a guard of this facility, they would feel pity for the rotten soul having to perish in such a painful manner. But if the guards of this facility are one particular thing, it's being pityless and without mercy.

The guard pulled out a communication device, his face grimaced with disgust.

"Another one for the chasm, everyone. Get rid of it. Cell 512 is the one.".

And with that, he left the cell with no words lost, unwilling to continue to stare at the now worthless corpse.

And it is all according to plan.

Much later, a different batch of guards did what they were ordered to do with the corpse and disposed of the corpse in a chasm full of them.

Little did they care to notice that the so-called corpse still had a heartbeat.

Hands of intense muscle clawed themselves into the walls of the chasm, dragging the supposed corpse out of the unguarded chasm outside the facilities' grounds. The thunderstorm and its coat of rain did not help matters in that regard, but the seemingly dead man did not care, perservering through this process without an ounce of uncertainty. The blood dropping down from the scarred fingers did little to hinder his progress, his mind reawoken and refocused on seeing his escape plans fulfilled and realised. Nothing and no one can stop him now, nor will he let them stop him at all.

Planning always bears fruit, and his perseverence paid off big time: he was out of the hole.

And free to roam the earth as a free man.

Captain Ail Merry knew exactly what he wants to do with this regained freedom, something he never stopped thinking about ever since his untimely imprisonment.

Let's get off this godforsaken planet and back to my fucking crew!

With that in mind, he marched forward, focused and unseen...

At the same time...

Above the walls of the facility and observant across the horizon stood a shadowy figure, noticing the elderly figure marching off into said horizon. To some, it would seem like an escape attempt noticed by a guard. But this was not the case.

The figure smiled under her massive coat and covering hat.

All according to plan.

An unexpectedly childish chuckle slithered out of her throat.

Soon, my love. 

Soon, we will be reunited.

So long as the plan goes off without a hitch.

And I know it will.

For I foresaw its success long ago!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter Text

[BEGINNING OF THE FINAL ARC: IMPERIAL SUNRISE]

We currently write the Third of July of the Year 493, following the Universal Century Calendar.

Exactly five months ago, the Earth Federation HQ was attacked by an unknown power from beyond the solar system. The hostile force, now identified as the Eusan Nation, attacked the center of the Federation in a bit to recapture two living beings considered assets of their extended spacial reach. However, their actions were repelled by the efforts of the military, preventing further tragedy from befalling the personnel of the headquarters. Due to what happened that day, the Federation classified the Nation as an enemy to the Solar System and all those living in there, as their willing disregard of foreign borders and aggressiveness in attempted negotiations have shown them to be dangerous. The additional information from the people they tried to retrieve did not paint a positive or humane picture of them. The scholars among the organisation compared them to not only to Communist Russia of the Atomic Ages, but also to the Principality of Zeon in certain aspects.

As a result, and in addition of a successful theft from the EFSF's moon bases, the Federation formally declared high alert over all traffic space in the Solar System. The nation, in response, formally declared war on the Earth Federation, done through an official letter of their head of government and approved by seal from their ruling figure, the Great Revolutionary. Currently, no combat ecounters have occured since that announcement...

...Until now.

[THE CURTAIN OPENS TO THE BLOODBATH.]

Side 4.

Thunderbolt Sector.

12:00.

Within the vastness of space, a squadron of starships stood inert in it. One Irish-Class Ship, two Clop-Class and two Salamis Kai-Class Ships. Forming a barricade in an environment of emptiness, the only sign of life from this impromptu formation are the mobile suits patrolling the sector around said formation, looking for something that does not exist, yet still remaining on high alert despite it.

From the bridge of the Irish-Class, the personnel was going through their established routine of observation and report, of maintenance and checkups, of basically anything that needed to be done to keep the machine that was their duty going. The captain of the ship observed the proceedings with a watchful eye, silently making sure that everything remains functional in the clockwork that was his ship. Even if what they are doing is nothing more than glorified border patrol for the solar system they called their home. A task most boring, yet still much more important than the own needs. Especially in recent times.

The same could be said from the captains and crewmembers of the other ships, who share the sentiment. One lone ensign on one of the Salamis Kai-Class ships at least took a moment to observe the outside, to keep his mind occupied in a moment of no work to occupy him. From there, he could see the sight that was the appropriately nicknamed Thunderbolt Sector. From what he heard, it was the scene of one of the most obscure combat engagements of the One Year War. He also heard that some really nasty stuff transpired in the field of debree that made up the sector itself. And despite the cleanup efforts having made considerable efforts ever since then, the historical nature, alongside the superstition surrounding it, kept it from being fully rebuilt to its pre-war glory.

It is even said that those who pilot a mobile suit in this space might hear the faint, ghostly sounds of a shot being fired at them.

What a load of nonesense!

Until it wasn't.

Until he saw a shot zoom past his gaze and hit the passing through mobile suit right in the cockpit, blowing it up with one clean shot.

The ensign wanted to scream. An understandable reaction to what happened. Who wouldn't want to scream from seeing carnage unfold in front of their eyes?

But he never got the chance.

Something hit the ship dead right into the bridge, followed by more shots blowing holes into what was once a proud vehicle standing strong. It took no further shots for it to kneel to its wounds and give in, blowing up in a nightmare of a blaze. No one survived.

The shockwave of the explosion immediately snapped the other ships out of their routine, immediately sounding alarm and getting into their battle stations. But it was too late. A black blurr zoomed past their barricade, leaving behind only the shots it fired while on the move. The same shots that now turned the other ships into swiss cheese, reducing a barricade to nothing more than another pile of debree in the sector, another mass of graves added to the graveyard.

And from the ashes of the attack floated a black mobile suit, its one eye observing the fire of its making with intent.

The curtain of the war has opened to its introduction!

[X]

Side 1.

Londo Bell HQ, Londenion.

15:30.

There is a saying that a company or an organisation is like a well-oiled machine, where everyone is a cog that needs to mesh together for everything to function. A form of social harmony and discipline is needed for such an outcome to be a reality. This is particularly true for military organisations, where the discipline and abidance to order is key to its success.

Which is exactly not happening inside the Headquarter of Londo Bell, as chaos and panic and disorder was reigning supreme. There was the haste of the messengers delivering one harrowing report after another, the soldiers trying desperately to keep order in the building, and the administrative faculty trying and failing to keep up with the drowning flow of information blasted at them. And all of it has an origin, as every problem has. In this case, it is always the same scenario: Unknown hostile forces destroying the outer barricades, with what little of survivors from these attacks reporting unidentified mobile suits and ships being the perpetrators of the carnage, closing in on the rest of the Earthsphere judging from their trajectory. The suddeness of the attacks and the surprise element exploited by the enemy left the military forces trying to regain their ground, attempting to at least establish a counter-initiative.

One thing that quickly established itself as a theory among the staff was the possibility that this was the Eusan Nation, as the timeframe of the theft of classified data from one of the moonbases and the type of information add up to what might have transpired in the meantime. And this was even more obvious to the current leader of Londo Bell, Admiral Flash Noa. While his name did give him the prestige of his ancestors, it did not stop him from falling into the pool of superstition. And the problem they were facing made it hard to refute that point.

"This is a nightmare...".

Suddenly, another messenger bursts into his office. He looked out of breath and in shambles, judging from the mishapen mess that was his uniform. He was waving a piece of paper in his hand, immediately handing it over to his superior and leaving without a word, only a swift salute as compensation.

Flash examined the contents of the paper, which read as followed:

Admiral Flash Noa of Londo Bell,

The acting captain of the Ra Cailum-Class Vessel designated LBC-1979-A, Second Lieutenant Cheda Cheise, requests permission to engage the unidentified hostile forces spotted near the space of Jupiter.

The distance to the vessel is closer than the other squadrons in the sector. Permission to gather data on the enemy is also requested.

According to the decision of the Admiral.

2nd Lt. Cheda Cheise of Londo Bell Cruiser 1979-A.

After reading the last paragraph, Flash sighed. He personally knew Cheda and was thus personally familiar with her maverick attitude. Telling her no would only lead to her acting upon her decision anyway. Even if said decision could spell their doom. She is just like that, and she knew her crew was also currently in the spot for revenge, considering their captain went MIA a good while ago. But still, he wondered how the two special members of this particular crew would react to the sight of possibly having to wage war against their own former homeland. While the reports made it clear that the artificial being known as Elster would definitely engage in armed combat if she deemed it necessary, he was unsure about the other one. She seemed...reluctant, from what he saw of her when they met during the discussion of their predicament back then. Regardless, he had to make his decision.

So he gave them permission.

For his own sanity's sake.

But not for his worries.

[X]

Jupiter.

Colony Zeus, Home of Jupiter Energy Transport Guild.

17:30.

Engines roar as the 1979-A blasts through space towards its confirmed target. Inside its bridge, Cheda sat in the seat that once belonged to her captain, glaring into the moving emptiness of space. The only emotion she currently felt was rage, even if it was hidden by a veil of stoicism on her face. She really needed some form of payback for them making a fool out of her and so much more. She turned to the happenings of the bridge, eyeing a random ensign on the radar.

"Status report on radar, ensign?", she sternly asked.

"Negative.", the ensign replied without missing a beat.

"Tch.", made Cheda, displeased with the answer.

She had read the reports from the survivors. No radar seemed to have picked up a sign during the attacks, meaning these bastards have something that prevents them from being spotted in advance. This could make a direct fight difficult. Thus, she has to go at it in a way that is strategic. An unusual feeling for her, let alone an uncomfortable one. She is more the 'rush in, attack, blow shit up, leave' kind of soldier. Of course, she often gets reprimanded for it, but it was undeniable that it brought results.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

With a push of a button, she asked for something.

"Sergeant Elster Yeong. To the bridge.".

Moments later, said sergeant entered the bridge as asked. The Replika gave her friend a puzzled look at first, but it quickly changed to anticipation when she saw the cheeky smile on her.

"How would you feel about a little game of 'Guess the Cup?".

[At the same time...]

It is said that true invisibility, if explained scientifically, is accomplished by the warping of optical space through light reflection and redirection. A principle that is easy to understand on paper, but difficult to execute, especially on a larger scale. However, such technology has already been invented in multiple ways. Sadly, such technology never saw any practical use, as the need for stealth in conflict has diminished with the advancements of radar technology, in addition of the costs involved in making it. So, for the Earth Federation and anyone in the Earthsphere in general, the prospect of invisibility proved to be nothing more than a fool's dream.

A dream that was picked up by someone else, someone who definitely knew how to make good use of it.

Unseen in the nebulas of space creeped a small vessel behind the 1979-A herself, keeping up with her hastened pace without problem.

Aboard the vessel, a figure keep optical contact with the target, blue eyes mechanically glued to it.

When the figure saw two mobile suits leave the hangar, it flashed a thought.

Shall we proceed with the next step of the operation?

Yes, proceed.

One step closer to salvation.

One step closer to salvation.

The mobile suits in question deployed two strange boxes next to both sides of the ship. Said boxes blew open to reveal something being blown up to size with air, growing in length and height with the minute. By the tenth minute that passed, the objects have become exact replicas of the ship next to it. The mobile suits then pushed the dummies forward, mimicking the movement of the ship. The three objects of great size then began to shuffle their position. A maneuver that would spawn confusion among the enemy forces, as it increasingly became clear. However, the unknown vessel tailing them knew exactly which one was the real one, and saw its opportunity to act on its plan when the mobile suits began to return to the launching bays.

The small vessel accelerated, approaching the larger one while it closed its hatches. With precision, it magnetized itself to the one blind spot of the ship, the space between its front and back. From the hatches opened on its sides, five figures climbed out of the vehicle, magnetizing themselves to the surface. They trekked forward, moving closer to a particular spot that showed a hatch, labeled 'EMERGENCY'. One of the figures pulled out a small, circular object, which is then place delicately on the hatch itself. Upon activation, the hatch blew open, causing the air in to blow out.

They had only one minute to enter, lest the emergency shut blows down and seals them out of their mission.

But they did not panic.

They proceeded as normal, and entered before the afromentioned seal came down, preventing more air from leaving.

The figures ditched their space suits without missing a beat, revealing a familiar form to their appearance...

Now the real mission can begin.

[On the Bridge...]

At his familiar post, Rick Shead simply made sure that communications channels between the operatives and the bridge continues to run smoothly. For him, it was a familiar job with a familiar routine, one where he has long managed to adapt to the stress surrounding it. Deviations from this routine will always lead to him beginning to feel a strong urge to scream, the situation being too much for him to handle. This was especially true after the assault on his life months ago. He still felt the hit on his head to this day.

So imagine what happens when he begins to hear cut off cries for backup from the channels from the lower to the mid-level decks of the ship.

The droplets of panic, his sweat, began to trail down his face.

Almost snapping his neck with the turn he made with his moustached head when he shouted to his acting captain.

"CAPTAIN! PROBLEM!".

[Near the sleeping quarters...]

Pacing back and forth inside her room was Ariane, fumbling around with her new uniform given to her by the personnel of the ship. She was internally cursing herself to a stupor with the buttons. In a moment of unexpected lament, she internally bemoaned the fact that she missed her old uniform, as drab and colorless as it was. At least it was easy to put on. How much she would give to have it back, just so she can ditch this nightmare of a uniform. She admitted that the pants and boots were the easiest and most casual part, but the undershirt was suffocating and the jacket had buttons she had no clue how to work with properly. And things are even more difficult to accomplish with her prosthetics still needing some fine-tuning, as they still seem to respond to her movements with a slight lag.

Suddenly, she remembered something.

Without wasting time, she rummaged through the boxes of her old stuff, having to dig deep into them to find what she was looking for. Eventually, she found exactly the thing she wanted to find: A spare Uniform of her old one! For once, she thanked the bastards of her cursed homelands for having the foresight of possible uniform malfunction in mind! She can now put on something more comfortable for the job.

But then, her artistic mind came up with another, even better idea.

Ditching the undershirt, she pulled out her favourite sleeveless dress. Grabbing a pair of scissors, she cut a part of it off, turning it into what she once seen in a magazine be described as a Carmisole. She then put it on, following it up by putting the sleeves-and-neck-combo of her old uniform over it. A bit more complicated, but much more comfortable for her, surprisingly enough. She then put on the jacket again, the sleeves slipping in like silk on skin. She then continued to fumble with the buttons again, until she finally figured out the mechanism behind them. From there, everything clicked into each other like a nail into a wall.

She took a moment to ogle herself in the mirror.

Elster had noted that she has begun to regain some mass to her body. Anyone else would have thought she had just called Ariane fat, but she knew better. She really looked healthier than before. She still felt gratefulness to the many medical officers that have contributed to her survival. All of this was a second chance for her, even if the prospect of war was still too much for her to handle. She knew in her heart she was not a fighter. Resentful? yes. Slightly snappy? Maybe. But a soldier who kills? Nope. She is an artist at heart, and she hopes to keep that part of herself alive to the day she can finally die a peaceful death next to her beloved. That is her dream.

Finally finished with her dress-up routine, she cleaned up the mess she made before ultimately leaving her quarters.

[Somewhere close...]

Elster patrolled the halls of the many, many layers that made up the structure of the ship, now on high alert from the recent news that there is a killer on the loose. Her hand was firmly gripped around the handle and trigger of the 10mm Pistol she currently held in her hands, her senses kicking into overdrive with worry and paranoia. She did not dare to think over what this whole situation could entail for Ariane. She knew in her biomechanical heart and from experience that Ariane is not a fighter, not even by a long shot. Basic self-defense? Yes, sure, everyone gets that before being shot in a coffin into space. But killers don't play fair and most likely have weapons, so there is that.

Her worries began to grow even more intensely when she spotted a group of silhouettes hushing through the halls, its shadows becoming blurrs.

Without a moment of hesitation, Elster entered pursuit, disappearing into the windings of the halls.

Gunshots began to rattle the hallway with harrowing sounds.

[X]

Just as Ariane had set a foot into the hallways, her ears were already being assaulted with the screams of gunshots, sending her into a panicked spiral. She immediately ducked in panic, almost like she is regressing back into the scared child she was all those years ago. The prospect of violence close to her being, especially the lethal kind, was always a recurring nightmare to her. Seeing soldiers from back home dragging someone out and shooting them dead was not a rare occurence. More often than not, it was people who either sympathized with the Empire, disliked the Nation who any reason or were ratted out by the local Protektor, probably for a very petty reason. The more she thought about it, the more the terror grew in her.

Eventually, she began to notice that the gunshots have stopped.

Cautiously, she slowly approached the corner of the hallway, desperately hoping that whatever is going is finally over.

Her environmental awareness immediately collapsed when she saw what was in the hallway.

Elster.

Ripped apart and bleeding out.

With the corpses of what seemed to be...additional Elsters?

They seemed to wear imperial colors, judging from the dominance of red and white in their body parts. However, they looked far more advanced than Elster herself. A few generations more advanced, in fact.

But none of that mattered to Ariane.

Tears began to well up in her eyes as her face twisted itself in emotional agony.

"E-Elster?".

With trembling legs, she slowly approached the lifeless pile of parts that was her lover, sparks occasionally spewing out of the holes exposed on her.

She collapsed next to the head.

The eyes were dim, lifeless in any state.

Not a smile, not even a frown.

Nothing.

Finally, Ariane cried.

"ELSTER!".

She hoped to wake up from this nightmare, that someone woke her up

But no one heard her.

[JULY 2ND, U.C. 493]

[Sgt. ELSTER YEONG]

[STATUS: KILLED IN ACTION]

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter Text

[Moments prior...]

Elster patrolled the halls of the many, many layers that made up the structure of the ship, now on high alert from the recent news that there is a killer on the loose. Her hand was firmly gripped around the handle and trigger of the 10mm Pistol she currently held in her hands, her senses kicking into overdrive with worry and paranoia. She did not dare to think over what this whole situation could entail for Ariane. She knew in her biomechanical heart and from experience that Ariane is not a fighter, not even by a long shot. Basic self-defense? Yes, sure, everyone gets that before being shot in a coffin into space. But killers don't play fair and most likely have weapons, so there is that.

Her worries began to grow even more intensely when she spotted a group of silhouettes hushing through the halls, its shadows becoming blurrs.

Without a moment of hesitation, Elster entered pursuit, disappearing into the windings of the halls.

She ran as fast as her hooved legs could allow her, never wavering in keeping her eyes on the target. However, her targets seem to be always a little bit faster than her, even at her own maximum capacity. Normally, an Elster Unit would not care about stuff like that, but Elster was far away from being considered 'normal' by her creator's standards. It frustrated her that her targets are trying to slip out of her grasp. An emotion she never knew she was capable of feeling, but here she is feeling it. Her creators would probably scrap her just for showing it, probably stamping it off as Persona Degradation or something in the direction.

Her targets were now attempting to split up, but Elster hindered them at doing it, simply by shooting at them. In return, they opened fire on her. She manages to dodge most of the shots, but some hit her in certain areas. Thankfully, mostly empty space in her structure. She felt fine. Uncomfortable, but fine.

Finally, after much running, the enemy group was now backed into a corner.

Elster kept her gun up high, eyes glued on the target and hands firm on the trigger.

"Identify yourself. Now.", she ordered.

To her surprise, the targets complied, removing their masks and helmets. And their gear. And their... uniforms?

Elster's eyes grew wide when she managed to identify the shape of the feet. Or lack thereof, in this case.

Her shock grew wider when she saw the faces.

They looked like her.

Exactly like her.

Those were LSTR Units!

She tried to regain her composture, but the brief slip of stoicism was enough of a sign for the other LSTR's to rush at her. Their speed truly was different to her own, as she had next to no time to raise her defenses from the punch that flew into her artificial gut. She staggered from the force, her weapon becoming looser in her hand's grip. That is enough of an opening for the other LSTR's to continue to beatdown on her. They fully encircle her, hitting her with a cycling flurry of punches across her entire being, almost as if they are drawing out the fact they could just shoot her. The pain, despite starting minimal due to her physiology, became unbearable over time. Finally, she began herself to lose the grip on both her consciousness and her gun, slowly closing her eyes in the process.

Until, like a flash on lightning, her senses blasted back into overdrive. In a frenzy of senses, she swiftly dodged a punch from the third unit behind her without even looking. The sudden jerking even seemed to shock the enemy unit herself!

This did not dissuade the other ones from stopping, immediately rushing at her. She dodged their strikes as well without missing a beat, almost as if she is following a sparkling trail of thought that moves faster than her own soul. She felt like she was no longer burdened by gravity in that moment. And seeing that this moment comes with opportunity, she stroke back.

With her gun back in full firmness of her grip, she whacked one of the LSTR's in the head with the barrel, throwing her off in her own fighting rythm. She follows it up by immediately shooting the unit clean in the head, directly above the eyes. The target slumped to the ground like a dead doll. One target was down, so two remained.

The other two wasted no time aiming their own guns at Elster, who rushed at them in return. However, something felt off about her own movements. Almost like a lag in response power, almost as if her own body is struggling to keep up with her mental responses. Still, she managed to push forward with a sense of speed she had not displayed before. She dodged the shots as best as she could, but even with the second wind she was having, she could only dodge so much. The shots began to hit her in places that were crucial to her functions. Her blood began to pour out of them, the pain becoming slowly too much for the Replika.

But she refused to give up.

She hit her targets with every ounce of force she could muster, with every bullet she had left in her weapon, and every ounce of will left in her being.

And it paid off.

One target got her head snapped off her body, tumbling to the ground like a broken doll.

And the last three targets met a similar end to one of her contemporaries: Bullets to the head and to the chest, directly into the artificial heart that pumped life into her.

The battle was won, and Elster came out victorious.

Her mind rested at ease, slowly.

Unfortunately, she did not notice that one of the units was pulling out something with the last of her strength.

A bomb.

A bomb that Elster saw far too late.

KABOOM!

[X]

War. War never changes.

The origin of the saying have been lost to time due over the centuries, but the one truth surrounding its meaning remained a permanently ingrained fixture in the mind of humanity. While the reasons for war always seem to change in some form or manner, the cost of war is always the same. People will die in the line of duty, and more will die in the line of sight of the enemy. There is no other way to explain the whole process, but the damage it causes to those who live is tremendous, downright abysmal in size. And the tears of loss that were shed in the bloodied and blown halls of the ship were the living example of said truth. Soldiers and personnel, long having lived in tides of peace, have nothing show but the pained expressions encircling the mourning woman holding the remains of her lover.

Today was a rainy day, even in the vast coldness of space. Those were the tears shed by soldiers, who could not be frozen or evaporated. Today was the day a comrade left for what lied beyond. And Cheda felt like she was not ready. Not ready to process this trail of thought. Not processing the friend she made on this strange journey.

Today was a day that could not get any worse.

But it could.

And it did.

Violently.

In a jerk of sudden motion, the ship rattled with excessive force, throwing everyone currently present in the halls off their balance. Systems were shaken, leaving the power of the whole vessel to fluctuate between the active and the inactive. The lights of the halls, once bright with white light, instantly turned red, a dreading indicator of what in possibly happening right now. The alarm blares at full force, the shaking continues in chaotically erratic intervals. In the chaos of it all, it was fearfully obvious what was happening in that harrowing moment.

They were under attack.

"I had to push my fucking luck...", Cheda mumbled under her breath. Sweat was starting to build up on the acting captain of the vessel. She hated every second of the feeling.

It took a lot of heavy lifting, but the people present managed to compose themselves well enough to transport the shaken woman and the artificial corpse of a friend away from the prying eyes of the others, safe from the chaotic business that was commencing in the halls and rooms of the ship. Cheda wasted no time of her own, instantly rushing to the bridge for information on what is happening. While the crew could have given her an obvious and rather redundant answer, the scenery of the cold outside gave her all the answers she needed. And yet, left her with even more questions.

A Mobile Suit.

None that she can even fathom to recognize.

But one thing was clear from their looks.

They were none of theirs, which the hostile action had made abundantly clear.

Zooming in and out of their vision, the mobile suit blasted the structure of the ship from every angle, damaging the hull in a very deliberate process. Worse, it seemed to have aimed at what it assumed would be the vital mechanical parts of the vessel, crippling the output of the whole structure in the process. The ship was slowing down to a crawl, now fully switched to only emergency power. They were sitting ducks in that dreaded moment, made worse when a hostile Eusan warship cloaked out of the veils of space. Judging from the structure, it seemed to be a more recent model, maybe even conceptualized to house the unidentified mobile suit.

The machine, clad in stripes of orange all over its armored structure, now had a stationary and steadfast aim with what looked like a Hyper Bazooka, targeting the bridge directly and, worse, point-blank. The entire crew present in that area was staring a giant barrel in the face. The image will probably be burned into their memories and nightmares for the rest of their lives.

Cheda was growling despite sweating from the tension they were in.

"Acting Captain! A message!", one of the crewmembers shouted.

The display showed said message, which was surprisingly short.

Surrender now or become space dust, ihr Drecksäcke.

Cheda remained fixated on the barrel, uncaring of the sight.

This was just not her day...

[On the other side...]

The Vogelnest-Klasse.

The first of her kind, meant for a purpose unique to itself. 

With a crew comprised of something considered new and old at the same time.

And having some of the higher ups in direct charge of such an experimental vessel really speaks to this unique composition.

The two Kommandanten observed the space battle happening just outside their temporary base of operations. Though calling it a space battle would be generous to the ability of retaliation of the enemy, which is none to never. A sitting duck waiting to be grilled by the predator. A fate most fitting for anyone opposing the Nation in any form or way.

Still, the results seem to attract differences in acceptance among the two.

"I don't have a good feeling about this whole thing.", Kommandant Ji-Min gruffly stated, eyes remaining fixated on the massacre happening.

A dismissive scoff escaped his co-worker, Kommandant Nagendra: "The results speak for themselves, old man. The project is shaping up to be a rousing success, in my honest opinion.".

Ji-Min just shakes his head.

When he was first presented with this so-called Project Eiserner Mann, he felt nothing in particular. Just another scientific project that is supposed to bolster the military with better equipment more suited for a situation they were not prepared for. What swayed his opinion in the way it is now was the smaller parts of that project. The ones that usually involve the Replika projects.

Ji-Min was not a weak Bioresonant. Quite the opposite, actually. However, when his mind picked up the one of the prototype Replika specifically created for the task of piloting the death trap that was the Statur, he felt something he has not felt in a long time. A feeling more dreaded to his generation, for this feeling once plagued their oldest enemies.

Emptiness.

Abysmally deep Emptiness.

The machine, contrary to the usual notions around Replikas, felt empty.

Like it had no actual desires.

No emotions.

No thoughts.

But what unsettled him the most was the dreaded feeling of something being hidden in that emptiness.

Staring back at him.

And smiling.

Grimmly, he grunts.

In return, Nagendra smiles smugly.

[Back to our side...]

"Danger! Danger! Danger!".

"Psst! Be quiet, you green ball!".

Two silhouettes, one humanoid and one round like an aforementioned ball, sneak around the shaking hangar containing the equally quivering inactive mobile suit, clearly intending to find something in particular among them.

The humanoid silhouette, despite the shadows keeping her face obscured, seemed emanate a mix of distrought and annoyance. The round silhouette, in contrast, remained round and bouncy in motion. Hooves clacker across the floor as the two figures crossed one of the platforms towards a particular mobile suit, one that seemed awfully familiar to the humanoid silhouette. Without much of a fuzz, the cockpit hatch into the Re-GZ opens up, the individual seemingly already knowing how to get access to the machine. From there, the two figures enter the machine in one fell motion, settling themselves in the piloting seat located in a panoramic cockpit. Quickly closing the cockpit, the humanoid figure gestured towards the little one, expecting something to be given to her.

"Pass the remote, greeny.".

Instantly, a robotic hand shot out from a small hatch on the ball-like figure, holding a crudely built remote. The other figure wasted not a second pressing it. Just outside, the launching platform of the hangar begins to awaken, opening up its doors.

Back inside the cockpit, the humanoid figure presses a hidden button beneath the console of the pilot seat. The action causes the machine to turn itself on, with the panoramic monitors surring into life and the cameras of the machine displaying the outside surroundings. This one little motion awakened the mobile suit, ready for whatever purpose it was activated.

Slowly, the thrusters of the machine roar to life. Quickly snatching one of the giant rifles next to it, the mobile suit began to burst out of its confinements, much to the surprise of the personnel present in the hangar, finally noticing the chaotic event unfolding in front of them. Without a single warning, it blasted out of the hangar with surprisingly abrupt speed, nearly flinging some of that same personnel away from the shockwave.

Finally outside, the machine transformed into a jet-like configuration.

The figures' features finally get illuminated by the outside.

The face of a Replika shone out of the shadows.

"I have to clean up another fucking mess.", she said with an annoyed tone.

[On the bridge...]

"Captain, a message from the mobile suit department!".

Oh my fucking non-existent God, what is it now?!

"Proceed.".

The ensign began to read.

"It seems that the Re-GZ just took off without permission or access granted, ma'am!".

Cheda's eyes go wide.

What the actual fuck?!

[Outside...]

Within the cockpit of the prototype mobile suit, an alarm starts to blare.

One hostile target, incoming.

From the monitors, the Replika observed a jet-like structure dashing right at her with speeds she has never seen before. Then again, her existence at this point is still relatively recent. So the sight of a target suicidally dashing at her was an experience for her.

Swiftly, the pilot made her machine move away, in turn losing its targetting grip on the bridge of the ship. Trying to gain distance, she shifts the weapon onto the new challenger. Pulling the trigger, a warhead blasts out of the barrel with extreme force, launching itself onto the path of the Re-GZ. In retaliation, the mobile suit fired its own weapon back, letting out a volley of beam shots that sling forward like arrows in the wind, cutting through the empty space for a target to hit. One got lucky in its endeavor and hit the warhead, destroying it in a blaze of fire. And from the fire, the Re-GZ blasts out.

Both fighters continued their dogfight in surprising intimacy, never fully able to shake off the other despite the continued increase of acceleration.

Eventually, the Re-GZ managed to reach its maximum speed, a point made visibly clear by the pressure pushing the Replika into the seat of her cockpit, like putting the filling inside an éclaire. The same could be said for the Haro that rested on her lap. "Pressure! Pressure! Pressure!", it cried out in artificial agony. The pilot itself groaned in the same tone of pain as her little companion. They knew they reached their limit on how fast they could go without risking being turned into scrap and paste.

Unfortunaly, their opponent did not seem to be slowing down in any form or way.

In fact, they seem to go even faster.

Even faster!

Three times faster!

Inside the Statur, the Replika had an unsettling smile on her face beneath the confines of the mask she was wearing. The systems of her body made it very clear that it was not supposed to happen. This was not part of her persona programming.

[WARNUNG! RISIKO DER PERSONA-DEGRADIERUNG!]

But the Replika ignored it, hitting the acceleration even further.

[Back on the Vogelnest...]

The ship received the same message as the pilot, namely the process that is befalling her.

Ji-Min huffed in disapproval.

Nagendra simply scoffed, but the beads of sweat on his face give his uncertainty away.

Not a single need to look away was needed when a silent order for a retreat was ordered by the latter, which the crew immediately tried to put into motion.

Nagendra internally grimaced.

This issue should have been fixed by now! She is going to lethal speeds, again! My so-called 'trusted' engineers repeatedly assured to me that the degradation could not happen so long as she wore the mask. But it is my own fault to trust such incompetent personnel! Perhaps a short visit to Sierpinski as clean-up duty for the lower levels will shape up their competence next time! In the meantime, I will search for alternatives for the issue at hand. This project is going to work and I would even sacrifice the Revolutionary to prove it!

Inside the rattling cockpit, a signal was beeping on the mask of the Replika, whose oddly blonde hair remained flat on her back due to the pressure of her recklessly fast movements in the machine she called her own. It was a signal of retreat, judging from her familiarity with its meaning. And while she did not show it outwardly, she seemed oddly displeased with the sudden recall by her master. But she had no other choice but to follow orders. A good soldier always follows orders, after all. A good has to, at the end of the day, or it would spell doom for itself.

So, in a sudden and literal turn of events, the mobile suit stopped in its tracks, its position making it come off as oddly staring at the approaching Re-GZ. The Replika in said machine squinted in concentration, not letting that perceived trick stop her from hitting the target. She had a clean shot, now.

At least, she had one, if not for the sudden gunfire that came from out of the blue, forcing the pilot to evade the oncoming attack. While managing to escape the shooting range with minimal damage, the consequence of this sudden attack, revealed to have come from the enemy ship, is the escape of the unidentified mobile suit. The unknown replika in the wannabe Zeta Gundam groaned in annoyance. The problem did not go away, and she hated problems that she could not solve.

It seems her problems only have just begun, as she received a rather harsh transmission.

"Unidentified pilot. Return to the launch bay this instant or face lethal consequences. That is a threat and an order!".

Shit.

"Trouble! Trouble! Trouble!".

Meanwhile, on the Vogelnest, Nagendra got an angry look from his supposed senior.

But Nagendra remained undeterred.

He knew that big things are going to be happening real soon.

Real soon.

[A little while later...]

Hands cuffed to a table and body tied to a chair, the Replika who piloted the Re-GZ was now held captive inside a familiar interrogation room. Despite the dire circumstances, she seemed unbothered. In fact, she seemed downright bored right now. A fact that both unnerved and enraged Cheda, who observed her every move from a one-way mirror in another room. The feelings got more intense when said Replika, a model she has never seen (then again, she only ever saw Elster, so the bar was abysmally low from the start), seemed to notice her instantly, giving her a raised eyebrow in response to the staring she could not actually see.

"Any information?", Cheda simply asked the other personnel in the room with her.

"Nothing. Not even from the Haro. Its hardware seemed to have been encrypted in some capacity.", one replied.

"She also demanded that we bring the highest officer. No reason was given for why that specific request.", another added.

Since the highest authority of the ship at the current moment was herself, Cheda knew that she had to lead this investigation by her own direct hand. 

So, she entered the interrogation room, silently, and sat down in front of the Replika, whose gaze continued to remain fixated on her.

A little bit of tense silence built itself up in the process.

Finally, Cheda broke it: "Who are you and why did you-, no, better yet: How did you hijack a mobile suit from our repertoire so god fucking damn easily?!".

The Replika tapped her fingers on the table despite not stopping the staring.

"Are the boss around here?", she simply asked.

Cheda, tensely and sternly, nodded.

"Because all my stuff is on this ship.".

What.

Cheda got confused.

The interrogators in the other room got confused.

And somewhere on the ship, a grieving Ariane suddenly felt a pang of confusion, which quickly subsided to returning feelings of sorrow.

"What?", Cheda blurted out bluntly.

"My plants. They are all here.".

"What??".

"They need to be watered every two days and they cannot do it themselves.".

"What???".

"And the Air Conditioning of this ship is a death trap in the making if not constantly maintained. Especially with the extensive destruction it got on its bag, now.".

"What the fuck are you talking about?!".

Finally, it clicked in the Replika that her supposed interrogator was understanding nothing.

"My apologies. I guess I should answer your questions more directly, I guess. I am a Replika.".

Cheda stared deadpan. 

"That I gathered, but not the one I am familiar with.".

"The LSTR unit fucking the white-haired starving artist? Yeah, we are not related. For one, I am an ARAR Unit. Standing for Allzweck-Reparatur-Arbeiter Replika. Or like the bird for short.", the Ara unit said with a slight grin on her face. "I fix things and I fix things good. I live in your walls.".

"What.".

"Oh, not that again! I live in the air vent systems of this ship, you Dödel! Why do you this ship has not suffocated to death yet from the aforementioned death trap AC, heh?".

Cheda finally got fed up with the artificial humanoid.

"But how did you get here? In here? In this ship?".

The Ara unit scoffed.

"Oh, that? I was always on the ship. Of course, I was also always on the Penrose beforehand. Who do you think made sure that the cryopod containing that white doofus did not break down in the meantime? Or that the ship managed to travel as far as it did with just hopes and dreams running it? All me! Not the bleeding heart that is that LSTR unit! Me!", she bolstered.

"But we- How the fuck did you get on the ship?! Seriously, that old derelict space mausoleum you call a ship was without oxygen and safeties! Nothing to breathe, for fuck's sake!", Cheda nearly screamed, the flippant tone of the Replika having finally gotten under her nerves.

"Oxygen tanks from the space suit that I found gathering dust.".

"What? How? Why?". She was slowly suffering from an aneurysm in the moment. She wished that Barbsy was here to help her. She always seemed to be able to talk to people more openly than Cheda. But now, she had more questions than answers. "Then how the fuck did Elster survive?! She did not have a space suit on!".

"I put her organs in closed preservation mode. Turns out that newer LSTR unit models than the ones I was familiar with have that nifty feature. prevents them from fully dying. But it only lasts for a certain amount of time, especially depending on the level of damage they have received. You getting what I am saying?".

Oh, so that is how.

Wait-

"Wait a second... Does this also work from getting blown to smithereens?", Cheda hastingly asked.

"Uhhh, yeah?".

Cheda's breath was taken away.

We have to return Earth. Now.

But one thing remained.

"You are now part of the crew and your name is now Bay. No questions or takesy backsies!".

Cheda then ran out of the room like a madman.

"What?", the newly christened Bay replied on complete confusion.

TO BE CONTINUED...