August 25, UC 0087.
AEUG Cruiser 'Shigure'. Amman City, The Moon.
The faint smell of coffee. A comfortable seat. A Haro stress ball to play with. If this had been a month earlier, Sylvie Greisser would never have believed she'd be able to see, smell, and feel these things ever again, but here she was, sitting in her very own office, her life now slowly returning to normal. Of course, her definition of "normal" was a lot different from the "regular" AEUG officer, but at least it was a lot better than being treated like some specimen on a petri dish.
Still... she didn't feel all too comfortable in her new surroundings, and her unease just seems to grow with each passing day. Maybe it was just the fact that she hadn't fought at all during the preceding week, with the Titans being defeated at both Von Braun and Granada, but somehow, she knew that it was something else. It was something... much deeper than simple anxiety, but whatever it truly was, she couldn't tell, although if her "evil" side was to be believed...
A sudden knock on the door interrupted her musings, reminding her yet again of another constant that had returned to her life. Since her arrival in Amman just over a week ago, she and the rest of what was now being called the "Dolvich Task Force" had been ordered to catch up on administrative duties - a more official term for boring old paperwork - while their ships and mobile suits were repaired of the damage sustained during their long, contested withdrawal from Papua New Guinea. Like most of her peers, she hated the drudgery of filling up forms for bureaucrats and accountants, but at least it gave her something to do, and while she was doing something she didn't have time to muse over what was making her feel uncomfortable. She turned to the intercom and said, "Enter."
"Gee, Sylvie, aren't you even going to ask who it is?" John Paul Recto chided jokingly as he opened the door and stepped inside, carrying a predictably thick folder in his arms, "After all, Yoko and Ming are still lurking around, what if they decide to pay you a little visit?"
"I'd offer them both a cup of coffee. With rat poison in it, of course," Sylvie replied bluntly, earning a chuckle from John, before deciding to get back to business, "So, what is my allotted task for the day, Sir?"
"Oh, the usual," John said as he placed the folder on Sylvie's desk, "High Command wants a couple more reports from you, mainly about whatever Titans weapons programs whose information you were privy to, as well as a few others to help them fill in a couple of blank areas concerning the Titans ORBAT. I'd hate to say this, but I think your stay with the Titans is now doing us some good."
"That's comforting to know," Sylvie answered with a snort, knowing full well what people really thought of her for helping the Titans, "Anything else, Sir?"
"Well, actually, there is," John replied in a hushed tone, pausing for a moment to scan the room, "Remember those crates Scott found on the Warspite? Well, I was just wondering..."
"What the hell was in them?" Sylvie finished for him, and quickly got an emphatic nod from the Major, "You do realize that this is need to know information, don't you, Sir?"
"Of course I do. Mr. Wong Lee* made that point very clear to all of us," John shrugged, "But you're my mobile suit commander and my friend. If Anaheim is planning something that involves you, then I have to know, don't I?"
Sylvie paused for a moment, then sighed, before finally nodding her head, "John, lock the door."
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August 18, UC 0087.
Amman City, The Moon.
"Yun, please, calm down. You look as though you're about to explode..." Scott Gusman begged as a now red-faced Yun Hitachi stomped around the warehouse, looking for something very, VERY expensive to vent his anger upon. His two companions, Hans Erwin and Erich Thompson, had long given up trying to calm down the now infuriated Nemo pilot, and they were just staring into the heavens, praying for a miracle. Sylvie groaned out loud as she realized the miracle that they were waiting for was HER.
"Mr. Hitachi, if you're going to vent out your anger, vent it towards yourself," Sylvie ordered off-handedly, getting annoyed that she had to continually baby-sit this half-witted pilot, "It's your fault that you keep losing your money to stupid bets, and it's your fault that you were stupid enough to believe that Anaheim would pay us a bonus for delivering all of this... junk."
"Oh, right, and I suppose THIS is also "junk"," Yun replied angrily as he pointed to a crate in the center of the room. Inside it was the badly damaged yet still recognizable head of a Gundam-type mobile suit, its model number still faintly readable on its side, "I thought all of those damn executives got all riled up when they heard we found their precious RX-121**, but now that they've gotten their hands on it..."
"Somebody either just overreacted, or already knew what it really was and just used it as an excuse to motivate us into getting here faster." Sylvie lectured, "But regardless, this thing IS a piece of junk, and has been ever since the Titans completed the Gundam Mk II, so stop treating it otherwise."
"And how the hell would YOU know?" Yun shouted accusingly, causing Sylvie to finally roll her eyes in the process. Was it just her, she asked herself, or are all of Ming's friends really just as short-sighted as he is? She decided it was probably the latter.
"Because I fought for those scumbags, remember?" Sylvie answered tiredly, her voice now sounding disinterested, "And this particular model is so damn unremarkable I would have forgotten about it if its idiot of a pilot hadn't tried to ask me out on a date. This is just another in a long line of unlikely mobile suits that keeps popping up in the Federal inventory for no apparent reason other than to give model making companies something to work with, Mr. Hitachi, so stop making a big deal out of it."
"Shhh... not so loud Captain, you might just give away the company secret," one of the Anaheim employees told her with a wink, a slight smile now appearing on his face. Sylvie quickly recognized him as Carlos Giovanni, the man who had overseen the development of her Nemo Sniper, and the one who was currently in charge of cataloging the junk they had recovered from the Warspite, "Can I borrow you for a moment, Captain Greisser? I think we've found something that warrants your attention."
"By all means," Sylvie replied as she ignored the protestations of her subordinate and followed Carlos over to a nearby crate, "What's inside?"
"Well, we think it's a bunch of power cables and their accompanying power unit," Carlos started as he took off the lid, revealing a jumbled mass of plastic and steel contained within, "But after close inspection we..."
"Hitachi, Thompson, Erwin, leave," Sylvie suddenly announced bluntly, never taking her eyes off the contents of the crate, "Now."
"Hey... wait a minute!" Yun protested, "If you just found something big, then we sure as hell..."
"Erwin, drag Hitachi out of here and just lend him the money he needs," Sylvie ordered as she turned to a surprised Hans, who had been quietly making his way outside along with Erich, "I know that you now have more than enough in your pocket book, so just do it and get going."
Hans opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could do so a dark glare from Sylvie muffled his reaction. Deciding to merely nod in compliance, he grabbed both Erich and Yun and beat a hasty exit, leaving the room empty save for Sylvie and a pair of Anaheim employees.
"Alright, what the hell was THAT all about?" Scott asked when it was over, spinning a large green metal beach ball in his index finger, "You've found something so important that we have to keep it a _secret_?"
Sylvie nodded, then pulled out one of the cables dangling out of the crate, "These aren't just power cables. See these data transmission lines?" she said as she pointed to a bundle of fine wires wrapped around the cable's core, "These cables were meant to transmit both power AND data to whatever's connected to it, and I'm betting what was connected to it was the weapons end of a remote weapons system. Something similar to what that Delaz Fleet's mobile armor used to decimate your precious mobile armor Gundam back in 83', but this model looks quite a bit more advanced."
"Well, we heard the Federation was trying to develop wire-based remote weapons systems, but the details are still pretty sketchy," Carlos admitted as he flexed his jaw, his mind going on overdrive as he evaluated the merits of Sylvie's arguments, which were quite compelling.
Turning to Scott, Carlos made his decision, "Alright, I think we do have something here. Scott, check the rest of the crates and see if we can find something else that's part of this system. When you're done, get a team together and start searching the Zeonic archives for remote weapons of this type. I know the bulk of the data was taken to Axis after the war, but I think they've left us enough to work with."
"I take it you're going to develop something that uses this technology?" Sylvie asked innocently, though, thanks to her record, she assumed she wouldn't get an answer. She was wrong.
Carlos turned to her and smiled, "Who said we weren't already trying?"
-----------------------------
"Hey, Sylvie, aren't you a little worried about getting involved with another Newtype weapons program?" John asked in a subdued tone after Sylvie had finished, his face a mask of worry, "I mean, after what the Titans did to you..."
"Actually, Carlos just wanted my help as a consultant, not as a freak test pilot," Sylvie explained with a shrug, her demeanor saying as if this was really no big deal, yet hairs were standing on the back of her neck, "Besides, if all goes as planned, this remote weapons system won't even need a Newtype pilot to operate it, and even if it does, AEUG has more than enough candidates with the necessary skills to choose from."
"Well, alright, if you say so..." John replied, though sounding as though he wasn't all that convinced, "But I'm pretty surprised that they asked for your help at all. Aren't they worried about your previous affiliations?"
"Not really. It seems one of his test pilots put in a good word for me before he left for the front, so Carlos had no reservations about sharing any information with me," she answered with a shrug, though she did feel rather... strange now that people were trusting her again. After everything the Titans had done to her, after everything they did to muck up her mind, she felt that she couldn't even trust _herself_, and she felt anxious every time she was reminded of that fact. Glancing at the folder she was supposed to work on, she decided that it was better to occupy her mind with something else other than more of her musings, and she told John, "So, is that going to be all or do you have anything else to discuss? I would like to get back to work now, Sir."
"Just one last thing, Sylvie," John promised, before motioning towards the folder he had brought with him, "Open it and take a look."
Sylvie raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told, and was surprised to see a small envelope on top of the stack of papers she was supposed to work on, "What's this?"
"Your first paycheck, Sylvie," John answered, his grin now returning, "I know it's a little early, but I thought maybe you'd like to do a little celebrating."
"What's there to celebrate about?" Sylvie asked suspiciously, treating the envelope as though it was a mail bomb, "Did Ming just die?"
"Close," John replied as he handed her a datapad, "The General has just issued his orders. The O'Bannon and the Achilles are going to be transferred, along with Ming and Yoko," his grin then grew into a smile, "They'll both be out of your hair by tomorrow."
-----------------------------
"This isn't fair..." Yoko Nagato pouted as she stormed into the O'Bannon's wardroom, feeling as though she had been completely and utterly cheated during her weeklong stay here in Amman. For a long while now she had been planning to do a little... socializing with Ming Chow when they got back to civilization, but all of her attempts to have him join her for dinner had failed, sometimes because of the meddling nature of some of her "comrades", but mostly because Ming was just too damn self-absorbed with himself to notice her overtures. She had to admit that his short sightedness and stubbornness were now proving to be major hindrances to her plans, but she was a determined woman, and she ALWAYS got what she wanted. Eventually.
"What is it now, Yoko?" Ming asked tiredly as Yoko stopped right in front of him and began tapping her feet impatiently, the look on her face giving him a pretty good idea of what she was planning. As usual, she did not disappoint.
"Ming, it's lunch time, and you're coming to eat with me whether you like it or not," Yoko ordered as forcefully as she could, shoving her annoyed face mere inches away from his, "I've already reserved us a spot in the Starviews restaurant in the upper levels of Amman, and if you make me waste that reservation again, I promise you, I will REALLY hurt you this time."
Ming sighed, "Look, Yoko, I'm not..."
"Hey, I OWE you dinner, remember?" Yoko reminded, her tone now softening, yet the look on her face still as fierce, "And I know you've been spending far too much time banging your head on a wall thinking about that psychotic *****, so for once, just forget about her and let's have a nice, quiet day together, alright?"
"Yoko, I'm NOT thinking about her, ALRIGHT?" Ming growled as he darkened his stare, ticked off that Yoko had mentioned that damn ***** in his presence AGAIN. Truth be told, he HAD been mulling over her since that talk he had with Jefferson, but the more he thought about her the more he just got pissed off, and Yoko did nothing but to REMIND him of that crazy, murderous wench, "But Yoko, I'd really rather not..."
"Ming, alright, I promise, I won't mention her even ONCE during our meal, alright?" Yoko decided after a quick study of Ming's features, correctly deducing what it was he wanted from her, "But Ming, if you really don't want to go because there's someone else..."
"Yoko, please..." Ming moaned, his eyes accusing her of sacrilege, "I thought we agreed that we'd do this as friends, not..."
"Hey, I may have reached the point in my life where I feel the need to kill someone who mentions my age, but I'm not yet past my prime, and I wouldn't want to make anybody out there jealous in case they get the wrong idea," Yoko replied with a grin, hiding the fact that she was lying through her teeth, "We ARE just friends, and that's why I have to repay you my debts before we ship out again tomorrow. Now, are you going out with me or not?"
Ming moaned yet again, then turned away, unwilling to meet her eyes. He still didn't feel like doing this, heck, he didn't really feel like doing _anything_ since Sandra had died four years ago, but he also knew that Yoko would not take no for an answer, and he might as well get it over with before she turned violent. Turning to her, he said, "Fine, I'm going. But are you sure the food there is any good?"
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'Twenty credits a loaf... seems a bit pricy to me...' Sylvie considered as she browsed through the attractively displayed items on the storefront of the only French Bakery in Amman, her mind carefully weighing between money and satisfying her own, personal needs. Even though living in the multi-ethnic suburbs of Revo had diluted much of her French ancestry, French food was still her favorite, particularly croissants. Unfortunately, however, freshly baked croissants were quite expensive, and being the miser that she was, she was really torn between...
'Oh come on, Sylvie, indulge yourself!' a sinister voice tore through her mind, annoying her to the extreme, 'You're not going to be free for long anyway, so why don't you live a little before I take it all away again?'
"Shut up..." she groaned as she glanced around, hoping that no one was noticing her discomfort. While the populace of Amman had proven themselves remarkably tolerant of a former Titans lapdog walking around their streets (probably a result of the Lunarian preoccupation with the accumulation of wealth over everything else), she knew that there are still a few Zeon fanatics lurking around who wanted her dead, and from her previous experiences, she knew that they were not just to be trifled with. True, she could physically man-handle most of these out of shape zealots, but with this damn voice in her head distracting her all of the time...
"Oh, Captain Greisser, I'm surprised to see you here," a voice greeted her cheerfully from behind, surprising her to the point that she almost jumped out of her skin. Before she could regain her composure, the voice, which she now recognized, asked her, "Anything wrong, Mam?"
"Nothing, Hans," Sylvie groaned as she turned around to face the newest pilot to join their ranks, her face betraying her annoyance. While the handsome Brevet Lieutenant Hans Gustav Erwin was now becoming quite popular among the junior pilots of her crew, she didn't like him at all, largely because he reminded her of too many young, stupid pilots who had gotten themselves killed by doing something stupid. Grimacing, she decided to ask, "What do you want? Compensation for the money I forced you to lend to Yun?"
"Eh? Not really, Mam. I was already planning to lend him the money anyway, so your decision didn't really put me in any kind of trouble," Hans replied with an innocent looking grin, which served to annoy Sylvie further, since she assumed it was false, "And Mam, if you're getting annoyed because you think I'm going to ask you out, then don't worry, because I won't. Your reaction to my complement when we first met spoke volumes about your social life."
"Then why are you here?" Sylvie asked, narrowing her eyes as though a tiger stalking her prey. Hans however, kept his cool, and allowed his grin to grow just a touch wider as he reached for something in his pockets.
"Well Mam, I'm actually here for the same reason as you. To buy some nice French bread for dinner," Hans explained as he pulled out a bunch of coupons in his pocket and handed them over to Sylvie, "You see, a friend of mine works in this bakeshop, and he decided to give me a couple of discount coupons in appreciation of what AEUG did to liberate Von Braun. I really do like the bread they bake here, but it's expensive as hell, so when the opportunity comes along to buy some at half-price, I don't knock on the opportunity."
"I... I see..." Sylvie replied quietly as she began to flipping through the coupons one by one, until one suddenly caught her fancy. It was a coupon that offered a 30% discount on croissants, with the discount being upped to 40% if she purchased five loaves or more. Unabashedly tearing out the desired coupon, she showed it to Hans and asked, "Mind if I take this one?"
"Ummm... sure, go ahead," Hans replied, eyes wide, a little... shocked at Sylvie's rather shameless display, "Do you really like croissants THAT much, Mam?"
"One of the few things I still enjoy," Sylvie admitted silently as she handed back the rest of the coupons, now feeling rather guilty that she had been belligerent to Mr. Erwin. He did have a rather friendly aura about him, she realized, and even if he might just end up getting killed... "Thank you, Hans. If... there's anything that you might want in return..."
"Tell you what, Captain. Find me a Haro and we'll call it even," Hans promised, his grin now returning, "I've been looking all over the city, but so far I haven't had any luck finding one. I'd really appreciate if you can help me on this one, Captain."
"A Haro?" Sylvie replied, just barely managing to contain her surprise. While Hans looked and acted like a young man, he was certainly outside the Haro's recommended age group, unless... "Are you a collector of some sort?"
It was Hans' turn to look uncomfortable, but after a moment's pause, he shook his head and answered, "Well... actually, it's for my boy. He's turning six in a few months."
"You have a SON?" Sylvie blurted out loud, this time unable to contain her surprise, "You don't..."
"Look like a dad?" Hans answered sheepishly, trying to just shrug it off but unable to do it convincingly, "Well, actually, I'm almost thirty, but my physical training and my mother's genes have made me look younger than I should be. Besides, I'm... not really a full time dad, so people tend to think I'm still a bachelor in his mid twenties."
"Problems with the missus?" Sylvie assumed, a touch of envy and self-pity creeping into her tone. She still found it difficult to be around people who had found the love that she had denied herself, and she found it just as difficult whenever she was reminded of children, though the latter had only recently been true. For once however, Hans was sharing the negativity that she was feeling.
"Well... you could say that," Hans replied silently, eyes downcast, "My son's actually living with her folks in Side 1, and while it pains me to know that he's not with his parents, I know this is probably what's best for him. I sure miss him though."
"I see..." Sylvie said sadly, able to relate to his experiences, "Why did you join up then? You're a little old to start piloting mobile suits."
"Hey now, don't look at me as though I'm some kind of newbee," Hans countered, his sadness now being replaced by a fierce sense of pride, "True, I haven't had any formal military training, but I was a Federal intelligence agent during the first war, and I bounced around several security and anti-piracy duties before the second. I learned quite a bit on how to pilot mobile suits during that time, particularly on how to be an effective and stealthy scout, though I doubt I'll ever rack up as many kills as the Valkyrie of Revo."
"I'd prefer to see some proof, and I'd appreciate it if you don't call me that," Sylvie glowered, never having been comfortable being referred to by her sobriquet, "People have reminded me of my past far too often already."
"Mam, with all due respect, I don't think you should be ashamed of your past," Hans replied with a shrug, "I lost a couple of friends during the Delaz rebellion, and I can understand why you would want to help the Titans. They were just doing their jobs back then, just as we are now, and..."
"And I'd rather you just give me your credentials and shut up," Sylvie cut-off coldly, the tone of her voice telling Hans to drop the subject, and quickly. She hated it whenever people lectured her about how she should just get over what she did in the past, because they didn't know what she had been through. In a way, she knew that the voice in her head was right, and that she was slowly destroying who she was by continually denying the pain inside of her, but she knew that it was her intended fate anyway, and she just didn't need anymore reminders of what she could... would eventually become. She found herself closing her eyes and turning away. Was this why she felt uncomfortable all the time? Was this why she couldn't find even a little inner peace?
"My apologies, mam, I promise it won't happen again," Hans replied quietly after a long pause, having been caught off-guard by her cold outburst, and wishing that he had noticed this sooner, "My records are with Captain Powell, and I think he's also been meaning to talk to you about which pilots you want for your mobile suit squad. Before you go meet him however, maybe you should use that coupon now. I think they've just finished baking a fresh batch of croissants."
"Maybe another time," Sylvie decided as she tucked the coupon in her pocket and started walking away, heading in the direction of AEUG Headquarters. She had just lost her appetite.
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August 25, UC 0087
AEUG Headquarters. Amman City.
One hour and three stomach grumbles later, Sylvie Greisser was sitting in Captain - soon to be Major - Jean Powell's office, the sorry state of her mind forcing her to ignore the protests of her digestive system. The long walk to AEUG HQ had been spent almost entirely on self-destructive self-introspection, aggravated by the unnerving sight of seeing Ming and Yoko walking together (a relationship, which, after all, could result in her being stalked by a new generation of Zeon maniacs in her old age), and interrupted only by a quick trip to the bank in order to facilitate a small donation to the Mother Theresa Orphanage in her home town in Revo. The last may seem like an oddity to most observers, but her family had always donated part of its income to local charities, and being certain that she was going to be the last of her family, she wanted to at least continue the tradition until she died.
"Sylvie, maybe you should see General Dolvich first," Jean suggested as he could no longer stand the lifeless look in her eyes, which was really making her look like a living corpse, "He's been meaning to speak with you for a while now, but events elsewhere have been taking up much of his time. Why don't you take a look in his office and see if he's busy?"
Sighing out loud and making her eyes look even deader, she asked, "Why should I even bother?"
"Because you don't look as though you're in the mood to be working today," Jean replied as he put away the list of candidates for the Shigure's mobile suit complement, "And I really think that you'd like to hear what the General has to say."
Grimacing, Sylvie asked, "Is that an order, Sir?"
Jean nodded, "If you want to, it will be."
Groaning out loud, Sylvie nodded her head in compliance, before storming out of his office and into the hallway. Thankfully, few people were there to notice her presence, though O'Connor, who was probably checking up on their Titans prisoner again, raised an eyebrow as she passed by. She ignored him and pressed on, arriving at the General's front doorstep seconds after leaving Jean. She was surprised to see that the door already open, and she could only assume that the General already knew she was coming.
"Captain Greisser reporting, Sir," Sylvie started formally as she stepped inside, coming face to face with her old commanding officer. Time had not been kind to the General, who now had graying hair and wrinkled features, but his eyes still wore the same fire and determination that made him a successful and respected combat officer. Nodding curtly in reply, the General motioned for her to take a seat, and he waited for her to do so before starting.
"Jean told me that you were coming, Captain, though I have to admit, I'm still a little busy after everything that has happened," Alexander Dolvich started pleasantly, before his demeanor turned serious, "However, I can tell that something is already troubling you, and I can't delay this meeting any further. Would you like to start by voicing your concerns?"
"Sir..." Sylvie started, ready to deny that anything was wrong with her, until she saw the look on the General's face. It told her that what he wanted from her was the truth, and he wasn't going to accept anything but the truth. Sighing inwardly, she relented, and said, "Sir... are you sure that you want me as a pilot in your Task Force?"
"And why would you ask that, Captain?" the General inquired, his eyes asking the question as well as his voice, "Do you have any reason to believe that you're not capable?"
"Yes Sir, I do," Sylvie answered as she turned away and bit her lip, unwilling to meet his gaze, "I'm a liability, Sir, and you know it. I served those Titans, WILLINGLY, and I even TORTURED one of your pilots. In fact, if it weren't for my damn skills I would already be..."
"Captain, I admit, when I first met you all of those years ago, I suspected that you would be a liability," Dolvich cut-off, the tone of his voice a surprising mixture of firmness and understanding, "You were soft and kind-hearted, and you probably joined the military for the wrong reasons..." he paused for a moment as Sylvie turned to face him, looking both ashamed and disbelieving, before continuing, "However, as time wore on, I realized that I was wrong. Yes, you were soft and kind-hearted, but you never quit, and you were always ready to risk your own life to save the lives of your teammates, and you were always the one to grieve the most when you failed. You are a lot stronger than what you think you are, Captain, and I can say with confidence now that you were never a liability."
"Except that the person you refer to died seven years ago," Sylvie replied sadly, her heart and mind unwilling to accept nor believe anything that the General had told her, "You... you know that I've changed, Sir. You know that..."
The General raised his hand and shook his head, telling her to stop, which she did only after a moment's hesitation. Sylvie braced herself, thinking that she was going to be given more praise that she knew she didn't deserve, but instead the General asked, "Captain, do you know who it was who arranged for your rescue?"
"No Sir," she replied silently, not caring either way. Whoever it was, she was certain that it was somebody who just wanted another "weapon" in the AEUG inventory. Dolvich realized what she was thinking, and sighed out loud before answering the question.
"Well Captain, it was _me_," he explained, his eyes unwavering as though he was certain it was the right decision, "And I didn't do it because of your Newtype abilities nor because of sound military sense. I did it as a favor to YOU."
"Si... SIR?" Sylvie answered shakily, unsure if she just heard what she just heard, before the full shock of his revelation finally hit her, "Why... Why would you..."
"Isn't it obvious, Captain?" Dolvich replied with a sad smile, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "Though she may not think of me as her father anymore, Natalie is still my daughter, and I know the only reason you stayed with the Titans for so long was because you wanted to keep her safe. You may not admit it, Captain, but you were best friends, almost sisters in fact, and as her father, I am grateful that you were there for her when I wasn't."
"But that doesn't change anything, Sir!" Sylvie countered angrily, turning her head away again, feeling disgusted that so many lives had to be lost just to save hers, "I just did Natalie a few favors and that was all. I... I didn't deserve to be saved just because..."
"On the contrary, Captain, it does matter," Dolvich lectured, "Because I know my daughter, and I know she would not associate herself with slimeballs and politicians. She chose you as a friend because she knew your heart was in the right place, and because of that she trusted you, just as I trust you now. Never tell yourself otherwise, Sylvie Greisser, because despite everything the Titans did to you, you are still that same person, and I _know_ that you won't let us down."
There was a long pause as Sylvie allowed the General's words to sink in, parts of her screaming that these were all just lies, others beginning to ponder whether what she was doing to herself was right or wrong. But there was one thing she was certain of, and it was one thing that she knew he could not ignore, "Sir... I... appreciate what you're trying to say, but you know what I did to Ming, and you know that while he still lives I can't trust myself to..."
"Captain, I know why you hate him, but I also know you won't put your hatred above the Cause," Dolvich chastised, amazed at how stubborn she was proving to be, and deciding that it was time she realized what she had been missing, "You just have to learn to trust yourself again, and to do that, you have to learn to trust others again as well. I know it's hard for you, Sylvie, because of who you lost during the war, but for your sake, you have to try."
Another long pause followed as Sylvie pondered what he had told her, the memories of her love once again haunting her thoughts. She had been in pain ever since she lost him, and she knew that trust was something she feared because of that pain. Was it... was it worth risking feeling more of that pain? Or was it just better this way, slowly rotting away inside, always alone?
"I... I'll try, Sir," Sylvie decided, eyes downcast, her body language showing that she had no confidence in herself that she could do it. Dolvich resisted the urge to sigh. It seemed as though all of his efforts had been wasted.
"Very well then, Captain," the General replied with a gentle nod, before returning to his more soldierly demeanor, "Would you like to return to your duties now?"
Sylvie nodded, then raised her head, taking a deep breath as she did so. The unease was still in her eyes, but to his surprise, something else was there now. Something that was still largely hidden by her fears, but it was there nevertheless. As she spoke, he hoped that it alone would be enough.
"Yes Sir, I would..." Sylvie replied as she stood up and turned around, making her way towards the door. Before she left however, she decided to add, "And Sir... thank you."
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"You sure took a while, Sylvie," Jean commented when she finally returned, looking a bit more human than when she had left, "So while you were gone I decided to weed out the roster for you. I think I've found two veteran pilots who'll suit your fancy, and since you're going to be assigned to patrol missions around Side 1, I decided to add Liv as your fourth pilot. Her Jet Core Booster may not be very combat worthy in space, but it's an ideal platform for reconnaissance roles, so I think it's a fair trade."
Sylvie was just about to nod in agreement when she stopped herself, General Dolvich's words about trust still fresh in her mind. In the past, she never really cared who she worked with, as long as they didn't get killed, but this time... "Who are those veteran pilots?"
"I doubt you know them, but they're both veterans of Solomon and A Baoa Qu," Jean explained as he flipped through his files, "And don't worry, they were Federals during the war, so..."
"Would you... mind if... if I choose my own pilots?" Sylvie asked quietly, surprising Jean with her request. It certainly seemed out of character.
"Ummm... not really..." Jean answered, a confused look on his face, "But why..."
"Erich Thompson and Hans Erwin," Sylvie requested, ignoring Jean's question, "They're both fairly reliable, and I think they can improve even more with some experience."
"Well, alright, I think I can arrange that," Jean replied dubiously, now beginning to wonder what exactly did the General say to Sylvie, "But Sylvie, are you sure you want Erich? He's always nervous as hell and..."
"He's racked up enough kills to be called an ace," Sylvie reminded, being one of the few people who did NOT overlook Erich's contributions during the campaign, "He's an excellent marksman who just needs a little confidence, and I'm afraid that's something he won't get if you keep him with Mr. Hitachi."
"Alright, you're the boss," Jean replied with a shrug, though admitting to himself that everything she said about Erich was true, "But I also have to ask you about Hans. He's a fair pilot, but he's also one of the few people we have who is an expert scout. I'm a little reluctant to assign both Liv AND Hans to you when..."
"Keep Liv for your team on the Warspite," Sylvie suggested, "I'm... sure that it would be better for both of you."
"Sylv... Sylvie?!" Jean shouted in surprise, shocked that Sylvie would actually... _consent_ to this kind of relationship in wartime. What the HECK just happened to her? "Look, I... I know what happened between you and Max, and you’re right that it’s a mistake for us to..."
"It will take a few months before the Warspite becomes operational, and during that time you’ll be stuck here in Amman doing garrison duty," Sylvie reminded, though doubt lingered in her eyes, "So... you might as well spend that time together, because I doubt we’ll live to see the end of this one."
"Al... Alright..." Jean agreed, still rather uneasy that Sylvie was acting like this, but grateful nonetheless now that he and Liv might be able to spend some time together. Truth be told, they didn’t have anything between them yet, but he knew he was interested in her, and she in him, so why not? "But what about your fourth pilot? With Liv out of the picture you only have three so far."
Sylvie considered for a moment, but then her meeting with O’Connor provided her with the perfect answer, "Keep it open. I think we all know we’re going to have another pilot in our ranks once we get her to 30 Bunch, so I might as well take her under my wing. I’ll make sure that she’s not mistreated for her previous affiliation."
"That works," Jean approved, though deciding, now that their task was done, to satisfy his curiosity, "But, Sylvie, would you mind if I ask..."
"Perhaps some other time Jean," Sylvie cut-off, still unwilling to discuss her apparent 'change' with anyone. Most of her still felt that this was a mistake, and if it turned out that way, she didn’t want anyone else to pity her. She quickly stood up and started heading for the door, but before she could leave Jean managed to ask one last question.
"Okay, but can I at least find out where you’re going?" Jean asked, deciding to just save his curiosity for a later time, "I’d like to know where I can find you just in case some of your requests runs into red tape."
"The warehouse," Sylvie replied, before deciding to add her motive, "I’m looking for something."
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August 26, UC 0087
AEUG Cruiser O’Bannon. Amman City.
'Who the heck could be calling me at this time?' Arnold Jefferson groaned to himself as he entered his office, his mind still firmly in the bridge of his warship. It had been a hectic twenty-four hours as he prepared for their departure, made even more so by Ming’s... 'friend' who had been planning to do something nasty to their counterpart on the Shigure (which, thankfully enough, he had been able to prevent), as well as the introduction of a new pilot for his mobile suit complement. He was surprised to find out that Yun was going to be assigned to him but not Erich, although judging by the record of Erich’s replacement, it was probably a fair trade...
"Hello?" Jefferson started as he pressed the receiver against his ear, thinking that the person who was calling might be an acquaintance he had made during their short stay in Amman. The voice that answered however, was much more familiar.
"Hello Colonel, Sir," the cold voice on the other end of the line answered, which Jefferson instantly recognized as belonging to Sylvie, “I hope your departure is proceeding as planned."
Jefferson sighed, thinking that he was probably going to get one last death threat before he left, but answered, "It is Captain, so don’t worry. We’ll be out of your hair soon."
"Thank you, Sir," the voice answered, now sounding a little less icy than normal, "I... apologize for the way I have been treating you, Sir, you didn’t deserve it, and I wish you luck."
"Captain?" Jefferson said out loud, unable to believe what he had just heard. Before he could say anything else however, Sylvie cut the line, and only the faint hum of the phone’s dial tone remained to accompany his thoughts.
-----------------------------
A box lay on top of Hans Erwin’s waiting bunk on the Shigure. Inside of it was the green spherical form that was the object of his search. It was actually older than it looked, but a few hours of painstaking restoration had restored it to its former glory, save for one minor detail. A small note was taped on its side, the words written in big bold letters. It read, "We’re even."
Author's Remarks:
- * Wong Lee is one of AEUG's chief financial backer and decision maker as seen on Z Gundam TV series.
- ** The RX-121 Gundam Hazel is a semi-official mobile suit that was recently brought to life by Dengeki Hobby magazines. Gundam Hazel is basically a Titans' pre-Mk II Gundam that has a semi-moveable frame built some time around UC 0085. Aside from the semi-moveable frame, however, it doesn't really have any distinguishing features, which is why Sylvie berates it as something that was (and rightfully so), made obsolete by the equally pedestrian but now equipped with a fully-moveable frame Gundam Mk II.
As to why we included the RX-121 at all when it's only semi-official? Well... It's actually because we (and by "we" I'm referring to myself and the series' artists, Cass and V2) wanted to use the RX-121 as the model number for one of the story's original mecha, but Dengeki Hobby beat us to the punch by a matter of _days_, so we just acknowledged DH's work to avoid any conflict ^_^.
Oh, and for anybody at all who's interested, the RX-121, by Z Gundam model number conventions, is supposed to denote the first, prototype mobile suit developed in Konpei Island (formerly Zeon's space fortress Solomon during the One Year War). Many thanks to Mark Simmons for his article on Model Number conventions for this little tidbit ^_^.
Notice: This story and all related material is copyrighted by Thomas E. "Zinegata" Ting, no part of this story may be taken by any other person. If you wish to use any material, please contact me first. Gundam and all related trademarks are owned by their respective companies.