A week had passed since our briefing at Mendel. Between the constant logistics and tactical adjustments, the days had blurred into a frantic haze.
During that time, Kira and Cagalli had visited the G.A.R.M. R&D laboratories to uncover the truth of their origins. As expected, they found the same photograph Uzumi had given Cagalli. They also stumbled upon notes hinting that Al Da Flaga had offered financial backing in exchange for the creation of his own clones.
I'd hoped to find the records Da Costa discovered in the original Destiny timeline—the ones containing other researchers' critiques of the Destiny Plan—but no such luck. Then again, I hadn't made it a priority, so I couldn't complain.
On the technical front, the final adjustments to the Eternal were complete. Both the Freedom and Justice were now fully compatible with the METEOR units. We owed much of that progress to Lemon and the mass-produced W-series. I recall the way Lemon had smiled—a look of pure, mischievous curiosity—as she pored over the METEOR schematics in the Eternal's database. I wouldn't be surprised if the Glowsaver ended up with its own external armament module before long.
For tactical efficiency, the Freedom and Justice had been transferred to the Eternal. This left the Archangel with the Shadow Mirror units, the Strike, and the Buster. The Kusanagi had been repurposed into a dedicated carrier for the Megillots, while the Eternal housed the two nuclear-powered Gundams and a sizeable contingent of Megillots.
It had been a busy week, but the hand of fate finally reached for us. The alert came from the Kusanagi.
"Archangel, Eternal, do you read me? This is Cagalli," her voice crackled over the comms. "Our scouting Megillots have picked up an Alliance fleet approaching Mendel. Sending the visuals now."
As the feed flickered onto the Archangel's bridge, a collective gasp rippled through the crew. Leading the formation was a ship that was the spitting image of our own, save for its dark, oppressive hull: the Dominion, second of the Archangel-class.
But the ship itself wasn't the only thing that set the bridge on edge. In the original history, the Alliance had only sent the Dominion to Mendel. This time...
"Are you kidding me? Look at those numbers!" Dearka blurted out.
He wasn't exaggerating. Trailing the Dominion was a swarm of nearly thirty warships. Drake-class escorts, Nelson-class space frigates, and even several Agamemnon-class carriers—ships usually reserved for fleet flagships.
"I'll admit, this is unexpected," Cornelia mused. "Did we win a little too convincingly back at Orb?"
"Probably," I replied. "Unlike that battle, we don't have the Sea Lions or the massive Megillot swarm here. They likely figured that even against high-performance machines, they could just drown us in sheer numbers."
I turned to the crew. "Everyone, battle stations. We have a moment before they're in range, but we're dealing with the leader of Blue Cosmos. There's no telling what he'll pull."
"Agreed," Murrue said, her expression hardening. "All hands, Level 1 Battle Stations!"
The pilots and I scrambled from the bridge, racing to the hangars to suit up. As I climbed into the Glowsaver's cockpit and brought the systems online, the ship suddenly lurched violently.
"Tch. A greeting shot? Natarle's getting fancy."
Despite the tremors, the hangar was a hive of controlled chaos. The Glowsaver, Rapierage, Weiss Saver, Strike, and Buster were all cycling through their final launch sequences. Beside them, the Megillots and mass-produced Gespenst Mk-IIs stood ready, their sensors glowing with predatory light. The Kusanagi and Eternal were undoubtedly doing the same.
"Murrue!" I called out.
"I know," she replied over the link. "If we stay in the docks, we're sitting ducks. All ships, launch immediately!"
The Archangel surged out of Mendel's docks, followed closely by the Kusanagi and the Eternal. The Alliance fleet didn't press the attack while we were bottlenecked in the exit—perhaps a lingering sentiment from Natarle toward her old ship? Or, more likely, Azrael didn't want to risk destroying our high-tech mobile suits along with the ships.
The Archangel took the center of our formation, flanked by the Kusanagi and Eternal. Facing us was the wall of Alliance steel led by the Dominion. In the original story, Natarle was a Lieutenant Commander at this point. Given that she was commanding a fleet of this size, she must have received a significant promotion.
A notification chimed. "Incoming transmission on an open channel," the comms officer announced.
"This is the Earth Alliance vessel Dominion. Archangel, do you hear me?"
The voice was unmistakable—Natarle Badgiruel. I heard the sharp intake of breath from Murrue and Mu. Even though they knew from my "premonitions" that she was the captain of the Dominion, hearing her voice—official, cold, and poised against them—made the reality sink in. For Murrue, she had been a trusted right hand. For Mu... well, their history was even more personal.
Natarle's voice continued, devoid of emotion. "The Alliance fleet demands the immediate and unconditional surrender of your rebel vessel. Should you refuse, we are authorized to use lethal force."
"An Archangel-class..." Murrue whispered.
"It has been a long time, Captain Ramius," Natarle said. She switched from audio-only to a video feed.
"It has," Murrue replied softly.
"I truly regret that we have to meet like this."
"As do I, Natarle."
"I have heard what happened at Alaska and Orb," Natarle said, her professional mask slipping just a fraction. "Please, I beg of you. Surrender now and speak with the High Command again. I will do everything in my power to advocate for you. You know the capabilities of this ship; you cannot win this."
"Natarle... thank you. But I can't," Murrue said, her voice gaining strength. "It isn't just about Alaska or Orb. We have lost faith in the Earth Forces themselves. We have chosen a third path—one that doesn't belong to the Alliance or ZAFT. We will not surrender, and we will not return to the ranks."
"Captain Ramius..."
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
A shrill, mocking laugh cut through the tense silence. The other pilots bristled, but I just narrowed my eyes. I knew that laugh.
"I was wondering how long this pathetic drama would last," Muruta Azrael sneered, leaning into the frame. "You're disappointing me, Captain. If talking actually worked, there wouldn't be a need for war in the first place, would there? People become enemies because they refuse to understand. And when you have an enemy... you crush them."
Natarle's jaw tightened, her voice dripping with suppressed loathing. "Director Azrael..."
The name sent a shockwave through our comms, but I didn't let the tension hang. I let out a dry, low chuckle of my own.
"Heh... heheh..."
"And who might you be?" Azrael barked, his eyes darting to my feed, clearly annoyed by the lack of fear in my laugh.
I took a breath, reeling in the genuine amusement I felt at seeing the villain in the flesh. "Sorry, sorry. It's just... your 'theatrical' performance is so laughable I couldn't help myself. You want to know who I am? Well, let's see... I'm the leader of Shadow Mirror, Orb's allied organization. I'm the pilot who stole the Blitz from under your noses. But for you, I think this title fits best..."
I leaned forward, letting a predatory smirk play across my lips.
"I'm Axel Almar—the pilot who turned your 'Second Stage' GAT-X series, the Calamity and the Forbidden, into scrap metal at Orb."
Azrael's face went pale, then a mottled purple. Even Natarle looked stunned. I didn't give him a chance to recover.
"It's funny, really," I continued, my voice dripping with scorn. "A man who grew up with such a pathetic inferiority complex—a boy who tried to bully a Coordinator only to get his ass handed to him—is now the 'Great Leader' of Blue Cosmos. Talk about a comedy."
The bridge of the Dominion went deathly silent. Because I was broadcasting on an open channel, every ship in the Alliance fleet heard it. I had just stripped the "Great Leader" of his dignity in front of his entire command.
"You... you... WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" Azrael screamed, his voice reaching a glass-shattering pitch.
"I told you: Axel Almar. And your little tantrum just proved everything I said was true. You see, Muruta... some people know things they shouldn't."
I recalled the flashbacks from the series—the root of his hatred.
"You ran home to your mother, crying, didn't you? 'Why didn't you make me a Coordinator?' you asked. You were envious of them. And now that envy has curdled into this genocidal obsession. You're nothing but a dancing doll for the old fossils at Logos. A pathetic, hollow puppet."
"LAUNCH THE RAIDER! LAUNCH ALL STRIKE DAGGERS!" Azrael shrieked, completely unhinged. "KILL HIM! KILL THAT FILTHY MOUTHED BASTARD!"
"Director, if we deploy the entire force at once, we'll have no reserves!" Natarle protested.
"SHUT UP! I won't be mocked by a worm like him! I'll make him regret the day he was born! DO IT!"
"Director Azrael..."
"JUST DO WHAT YOU'RE TOLD! You have your orders from the top! The only reason we lost at Orb was because we were outnumbered! With the might of the Alliance fleet, three ships are nothing! MOVE!"
Natarle closed her eyes for a split second, the picture of a woman trapped in a nightmare. "...All units, launch. Objective: Capture of unknown enemy mobile suits."
"And that Axel Almar person?" Azrael spat. "Destroy his machine. Leave nothing but dust."
"...Understood."
As the connection severed, a swarm of Strike Daggers began pouring out of the Alliance warships. From the Dominion, the Raider Gundam—the last of the trio—catapulted into the black.
"Murrue, it's time," I said.
"What? Oh—yes. Right. All units, launch!"
Murrue, who had been momentarily stunned by my verbal evisceration of Azrael, finally gave the order. The linear catapults of the Archangel fired in rapid succession, launching the Shadow Mirror units. From the Eternal, the Freedom and Justice surged out, already docking with their massive METEOR units. The Kusanagi didn't even use its catapult; a seemingly endless stream of Megillots simply drifted out from its deck, igniting their thrusters in unison.
Our side had three ships and roughly seventy units. They had thirty ships and over two hundred mobile suits. On paper, we were outnumbered three to one.
But numbers are a poor substitute for quality—a lesson the Alliance was about to learn the hard way.
The battle that would decide the fate of the war had begun.
Status Report: Axel Almar
Level: 37 (PP: 205)
Stats:
Melee: 258 | Ranged: 278 | Skill: 268
Defense: 268 | Evasion: 298 | Accuracy: 318
SP: 454
Ace Bonus: SP Boost (Consume SP to enhance Slime performance)
Terrain: Air: S | Land: S | Sea: S | Space: S
Spirit Commands: Accel, Effort, Focus, Bullseye, Awaken, Love.
Skills: EXP Up, SP Boost (SP Up Lv.9, SP Regen, Concentration), Telekinesis Lv.10, Attacker, Gunfight Lv.9, Infight Lv.9, Morale Limit Break, Geass (Grayed Out).
Total Kills: 294
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded over 40 chapters of this story on Patreon.
If you're enjoying it and want to read ahead, feel free to check them out here:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thanks a lot for your support, it really helps me keep going.
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"
