Jiliang's Refusal

The Archangel's bridge seemed like a fragment of time frozen in amber.

The streams of data flashing across the displays and the faintly visible cosmic dust in the distance could not dispel the heavy, almost suffocating atmosphere.

Every breath seemed to require tremendous effort, and the air was as thick as waterlogged cotton.

The low hum of electronic equipment was the only background noise, making the silence in the human-occupied area all the more pronounced.

Mu La Flaga, the seasoned ace pilot, was not in the cockpit he knew so well. Instead, he stood to one side of the bridge, his back against the cold metal wall.

He slowly, almost imperceptibly, shook his head.

His gaze swept over the constantly updating tactical information on the main screen before finally settling on empty space, as though it had pierced through the ship's bulkheads and seen something farther away, something more complicated.

His low, calm voice broke the nearly frozen silence on the bridge:

"Hey, hey, haven't you noticed? The way those two rewrote the Strike Gundam's operating system..." His voice was not loud, yet it spread across everyone's eardrums like ripples from a stone cast into a deep pool. "That level of delicate adjustment... no ordinary person could do it. Xia Ya, my 'younger brother,' was a natural-born Coordinator. I'd known that for a long time. But that girl named Jiliang Yamato..." He paused, and an inscrutable light flashed through his amber eyes. "She's probably a Coordinator too."

His tone remained even, without the intensity of the battlefield or the authority of a command. It was as though he were simply stating an utterly ordinary fact.

Yet those seemingly calm words held earth-shattering force, like a silent bomb detonating in the center of the bridge.

The shockwave swept through the entire space in an instant.

The crew members who had been tensely occupied at their respective stations, making final preparations for the coming pursuit—whether they were operating the detection systems, monitoring engine parameters, or checking weapon statuses—all froze at the same moment.

It was as though time had been paused. Dozens of gazes, drawn by some invisible magnetic force, turned in unison toward Mu.

Shock, surprise, disbelief... all kinds of complicated emotions appeared across their faces, like colors spilled from an overturned palette.

Even Ensign Natarle Badgiruel, known for her calmness and rigor, widened her eyes. Her usually tightly pressed lips parted slightly, revealing a rare loss of composure.

Her hand remained on the console, her fingertips faintly white from the force she was exerting.

"A Coordinator...?" someone murmured, so quietly it was almost inaudible, yet it exposed the storm raging inside.

Mu and acting captain Murrue Ramius exchanged a glance. In each other's eyes, they saw confirmation of something unexpected, yet somehow reasonable.

Yes, that powerful premonition had risen in both their hearts almost simultaneously.

The girl who had piloted the Strike Gundam and displayed astonishing adaptability and combat talent in a desperate situation, Jiliang Yamato, was very likely a Coordinator.

Though the fact was so sudden that it caught everyone off guard, after the harrowing battle they had just endured and after witnessing her nearly instinctive piloting skills, it did not seem entirely baseless upon reflection.

Coordinators, beings genetically enhanced to surpass Naturals in every capability, possessing such abilities... seemed to make sense.

But "making sense" did not mean "being acceptable."

After a brief, deathly silence, Natarle Badgiruel was the first to break free from her shock. She abruptly straightened her back like a string pulled taut in an instant. Her voice rose with emotion, sharp-edged as it tore through the stagnant air:

"Then we absolutely cannot hand the machines over to them! Lieutenant Mu! They're Coordinators! And we're being pursued by ZAFT's Coordinator forces! How can we, how can we hand our military's most highly classified weapons to people of the same kind as the enemy?! This is simply—"

She spoke rapidly, every word seeming to force its way through clenched teeth, filled with fierce opposition and resistance. Her voice echoed through the enclosed bridge, carrying an unmistakable note of accusation.

She could not understand it, much less tolerate an act that was practically aiding the enemy. Her duty and position as a soldier made her vigilant to the extreme.

However, before her impassioned argument could fully unfold, Mu cut her off without mercy.

Mu turned around and faced Natarle directly.

His eyes suddenly became incomparably sharp, like cold stars lighting up the night, like a hawk fixing on its prey. They locked firmly onto Natarle's eyes, which flickered with Fury.

His tone was grave and resolute, carrying the composure and decisiveness forged by years of battle:

"The ones we're fighting are ZAFT. That military organization trying to destroy us and seize our home."

His voice was not loud, but every word was clear, striking everyone's heart like a heavy hammer. "Not all Coordinators."

He took a small step forward. His invisible presence made Natarle instinctively retreat half a step.

"Listen carefully, Ensign Badgiruel." Mu's voice remained steady, but it carried an unquestionable force, cold and hard as solid ice. "The enemy we face right now is ZAFT's military, the Creuset Team, the soldiers who want to sink this ship and kill every one of us. That has no direct connection to whether that little girl Jiliang and my brother Xia Ya are Coordinators or Naturals. Their identities and the fact that we must fight our enemy are two separate matters. Don't confuse the two."

His gaze swept over the other hesitant crew members on the bridge. His voice echoed clearly through the terrifying silence, carrying an innate authority and decisiveness, as though he had forcibly drawn a clear boundary through the chaos before them. "Don't get the target of your attack wrong, and don't mistake the forces we can unite with."

The bridge fell silent, leaving only the low hum of operating instruments. Mu's words formed a solid barrier, blocking every possible objection Natarle might have hurled next.

That force came not only from his status as a veteran ace, but also from the irrefutable logic and resolve contained in his words.

Natarle's lips moved a few times as though she still wanted to argue, but under the watch of those sharp eyes, she ultimately chose silence.

She knew Mu was speaking the truth, at least from a tactical standpoint.

ZAFT was the immediate threat, while Jiliang and Xia Ya were currently the only people capable of activating and effectively piloting the two G Weapons.

Reason told her that Mu's decision was the only answer to their present predicament.

But emotionally, and in terms of her position, deep inside she still churned with intense resistance and unease.

Handing the Earth Alliance's most highly classified secrets to Coordinators of unknown identity, who were very likely the same kind as the enemy, challenged her fundamental principles as a soldier.

Yet the difference in rank and the pressure of the current situation prevented her from protesting publicly any longer.

She could only force herself to lower her head, bite her lower lip, and squeeze out a stiff response from her throat. "...Yes."

Her slightly bowed head and the taut line of her neck both revealed the unwillingness and helplessness deep within her.

Like a proud cheetah forced to submit temporarily to a stronger force, she retracted her claws and waited for the next chance to strike back.

Seeing that Natarle no longer insisted, the tense atmosphere on the bridge eased slightly, though the tightly stretched string had not fully loosened.

Mu's gaze left Natarle and turned once more toward the empty space ahead. An indescribably complicated emotion entered his voice:

"...Even so," he added softly, as if speaking to himself and explaining it to everyone else, "they truly have no formal connection with the Earth Alliance. They're just civilians caught up in this disaster. But..."

He paused, and his tone became firm again. "The captain was right. In this situation, we have no choice but to rely on their strength. It's our only hope of surviving."

Murrue Ramius sighed softly and continued, "...But Mu, one of them is your brother."

Her voice carried a gentleness unique to a woman, along with an understanding of Mu's state of mind.

She had been the one who first suggested dragging those two youths into the flames of war and using their strength, yet now she could not help confirming whether this was too cruel for Mu. She could sense the raging undercurrent beneath his calm exterior.

"..." Mu fell silent for a moment, as though organizing his thoughts—or battling the intense emotions in his heart.

At last, he gave a nearly self-mocking laugh, his voice full of bitterness and helplessness. "What else can I do?... Am I supposed to just tell myself there's no other way and give up on him with a clear conscience?"

His voice began to tremble slightly, no longer as steady as before. "I chose to become a Moebius pilot and fought desperately until now because... because I wanted to protect that guy, let him stay away from all this, let him live an ordinary life. But now? I have to rely on that guy's strength just to survive... How ironic."

His shoulders sagged slightly, and his usually upright figure seemed somewhat hunched at that moment.

Those eyes that always shone with confidence were now veiled in moisture, as though tears might spill over at any moment.

"I really am... useless. So useless that... I feel like crying."

Those words were less an explanation than an outpouring.

It was as though he had completely given up resisting, or as though he had burned his bridges and exposed his most vulnerable side to Murrue and everyone on the bridge.

Murrue's heart tightened, and she almost thought she had misheard him.

She had never seen Mu La Flaga so vulnerable.

That man who always carried a trace of flippancy yet was incomparably dependable when it mattered most now had a tremor in his voice, like a candle flame in the wind—flickering uncertainly and aching to hear.

No matter how twisted the path or how complicated their feelings, the conclusion could no longer be changed.

To survive ZAFT's pursuit, to protect the Ark carrying countless lives—the Archangel—they had to rely on those two powerful G Weapons.

And the only ones who could pilot them were Xia Ya La Flaga and Jiliang Yamato.

Though they were merely civilians accidentally caught in the war, though their identities were so sensitive, they were their only hope right now.

"I'll talk to them." Murrue made her decision at once, the clarity in her eyes restoring the decisiveness of an acting captain.

She could not let Mu face his brother again. That would be too cruel. And time was pressing; ZAFT's threat could descend at any moment. "I'll persuade them."

Having said that, Murrue did not hesitate. She turned and quickly left the bridge.

She headed for the cabin where Xia Ya, Jiliang, and their friends had been placed earlier.

In a room temporarily cleared out somewhere inside the Archangel, the atmosphere was so awkward it seemed almost tangible.

Xia Ya La Flaga, Jiliang Yamato, and Jiliang's friends—Tolle, Miriallia, Sai, and Kuzzey—had been temporarily placed there.

For these young men and women, who had just witnessed their home's destruction and narrowly escaped death, suddenly finding themselves aboard a massive military warship filled with an air of lethal severity was terrifying enough.

What was more, there was an almost completely unfamiliar boy beside them, one whose temperament was as cold as an iceberg—Xia Ya.

Jiliang and her friends sat or stood crowded together, speaking quietly as they tried to use familiar voices to dispel the alienation and fear brought by their surroundings.

They had just witnessed the destruction of the colony satellite and experienced a close encounter with ZAFT mobile suits. Their nerves remained taut.

Xia Ya, meanwhile, chose a corner some distance away. He leaned at an angle against the cold bulkhead, arms folded across his chest, his calm eyes gazing into nothingness as though everything around him had nothing to do with him.

He was like a carefully carved statue: silent, distant, carrying a composure—and perhaps indifference—that did not match his age.

This was their first meeting in the truest sense. Apart from brief introductions, he had barely exchanged a word with Jiliang and the others.

Now, forced to remain in the same enclosed space, doing nothing but waiting for an unknown fate, the feeling was... indescribably uncomfortable and awkward. It was as though countless tiny, irritating ants floated in the air.

...Every now and then, Jiliang would raise her head and secretly, quickly glance at him, only to lower it again as fast as a startled rabbit.

Her gaze was mixed with curiosity, scrutiny, and perhaps a trace of... dependence that was difficult to detect.

Something stirred faintly in Xia Ya's heart, but his expression remained unchanged.

He silently listened to the conversations between Jiliang and her friends. Mostly, they were comforting one another, guessing at what would happen next, and voicing their confusion and fear for the future.

"What will happen to us?" Miriallia's voice carried a sob.

"I don't know... This ship belongs to the Earth Forces, right? Will they take us somewhere safe?" Tolle tried to sound calm, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

"But... that person earlier, Mr. Mu, said... ZAFT is pursuing us..." Sai's face was pale.

Xia Ya listened quietly without interrupting.

It was not that he liked eavesdropping. In such a cramped space, no sound had anywhere to hide.

He was merely a passive recipient.

Just then, the soft hiss of the cabin door sliding open interrupted the youths' whispers.

Captain Murrue Ramius appeared at the doorway. The slightly oversized Earth Forces uniform she wore did not make her look bulky; instead, it emphasized the competence and determination of someone called into command in a crisis.

Her gaze quickly swept over everyone in the room before finally settling on Xia Ya and Jiliang.

"Xia Ya La Flaga, Jiliang Yamato." Her voice was crisp and serious, carrying an unquestionable urgency.

Everyone fell silent and looked at her.

"The situation is urgent." Murrue did not waste time on pleasantries and went straight to the point. "ZAFT's pursuing forces are already very close. We must leave this airspace as soon as possible. To buy enough time, for the safety of everyone aboard this ship..." Her gaze moved between Xia Ya and Jiliang. "I need your help."

Though she did not state it outright, the meaning in her words could not have been clearer.

Simply put, she wanted him and Jiliang to board those two mobile suits again—the Blaze Gundam and the Strike Gundam—and enter the coming battle.

The air in the room instantly froze. Terror and disbelief appeared on Jiliang's friends' faces.

"I refuse!"

Almost the instant Murrue finished speaking, Jiliang's voice rang through the room, loud and without hesitation.

Her reaction was astonishingly swift, as though she had rehearsed those words countless times in her heart.

The girl abruptly raised her head. Her brown eyes, once merely timid and confused, now blazed with fierce fire. Her body trembled faintly with emotion, but her voice was exceptionally firm:

"I... we hate war! We chose to live on Heliopolis because it was a neutral nation! We don't want anything to do with war!" She stepped forward and faced Murrue directly. "Just like... just like that person said earlier." She pointed at Xia Ya. "The outside world is at war, and someday we might get dragged into it. Right now, at this very moment, I understand that more clearly than ever! Being dragged in against our will is already terrifying enough, but even so..."

Her voice rose, carrying an almost desperate resistance. "For us to take up weapons ourselves and throw ourselves into war... that's wrong! It's a mistake! I absolutely refuse! I don't want to kill anyone, and I don't want to be killed! I absolutely will not pilot that thing!"

At this tense, life-or-death moment, Jiliang's instinctive response was undoubtedly entirely understandable.

A pacifist, a girl who had just witnessed the cruelty of war and the destruction of her home, was being asked to immediately become a soldier and commit the killing she hated most. The request itself carried a paradoxical absurdity.

When someone was defenselessly swept into merciless warfare, driven by chaos, fear, and the instinct to survive, perhaps they could still find a barely acceptable reason in their heart to call it "self-defense" or "having no other choice."

After all, the turmoil of the outside world was often beyond the control of insignificant individuals. People could only be swept along by the tide of the times, struggling to survive on the edge of war's vortex.

Being drawn into it already meant facing the threat of death, a life of upheaval, and endless wounds to the soul.

Since that was already a cruel reality she could not escape, Jiliang might have been able to force herself to swallow her unwillingness and resistance, and accept Destiny's arrangement.