Discussion on the Archangel's Bridge

In the deep darkness of space, even steel warships seemed small and fragile.

In a corner of the Archangel's hangar, an invisible tension quietly spread.

Xia Ya had just finished a battle that had decided life and death. The aftershocks in his mind had yet to settle as he lost himself in complicated thoughts about the present and the future, trying to find a thread of order in the chaos.

Just then, an angry, aggrieved cry shattered his brief peace.

"I don't care anymore! Xia Ya, let's go!"

It was Jiliang's voice.

Xia Ya jolted out of his thoughts and looked up in confusion toward the sound. Jiliang Yamato—the girl who had fought beside him not long ago while piloting the Strike Gundam—stood there with her arms folded across her chest, her pretty face faintly flushed with anger and her brows full of displeasure.

Not far from her stood Flay Allster, the girl they had just rescued from a drifting lifeboat.

Judging from their expressions and positions, the two had clearly had a serious clash during the brief moment Xia Ya had been distracted. The atmosphere had already dropped to freezing point.

"Eh?... What about that girl?" Xia Ya asked instinctively, his gaze moving between Jiliang and Flay.

Flay looked somewhat disheveled, with a trace of stubbornness and grievance in her eyes, while Jiliang wore a thoroughly resolute expression that said, "I refuse to deal with this."

"I don't care!" Jiliang repeated angrily, her tone absolute.

She seemed to have completely lost her usual calm and composure, like a child throwing a tantrum.

Before her words had even faded, she strode over to Xia Ya, grabbed his wrist, and pulled so hard that he felt a faint sting of pain.

Dragging him along, she turned to leave the place that had put her in such a foul mood without looking back.

Xia Ya did not resist. He simply followed the pull and started walking.

The warmth against his wrist and the marks left by the girl's forceful fingers stirred a strange feeling in his heart.

He silently followed behind Jiliang, keenly noticing that she had been so overwhelmed by rage that she had overlooked what might have been an extremely important detail to her—she was tightly holding a boy's hand.

Has this girl noticed? Probably not. She's so angry that she doesn't even realize she's holding my hand.

Flay's anxious shout came from behind them. "Ah, wait, Jiliang! Even if you're leaving, at least take me to Sai!"

Jiliang did not slow down in the slightest. She did not even turn her head, merely tossing back impatiently, "I don't care! Can't you find him yourself!?"

"How could you... Don't leave me behind! I understand that you want some time alone with the boyfriend you love, holding hands and going on a date!" Flay's voice was on the verge of tears, but she sounded as though she were deliberately provoking Jiliang with words that made her instantly bristle.

"Wh-who's my beloved boyfriend!? Holding hands and all that... I wasn't—!?"

Jiliang stopped abruptly, as if an invisible bolt of lightning had struck her.

She instinctively denied it, but her words cut off halfway, as though something had lodged in her throat.

Her gaze moved stiffly and incredulously from Xia Ya's slightly helpless yet amused profile, then slowly traveled downward as if in slow motion until it landed on the hand tightly gripping his wrist.

The next second, a blush even hotter than before surged over Jiliang's face like a rising tide, spreading from her neck all the way to her ears. She was so red she seemed almost ready to bleed.

As if she had been burned, she violently flung Xia Ya's hand away, nearly stumbling from the force of her own movement.

"Flay—!!!" Jiliang let out a shriek filled with extreme embarrassment and fury as she spun around and glared at the culprit.

"W-what!?" Flay was startled by the scream, but she quickly gathered her courage and shot back without yielding. "Wasn't that your own fault, Jiliang!? Don't take it out on me!?"

"What did you say!?"

"I said it's the truth!"

This time, their verbal clash escalated rapidly.

The two girls, whose identities and backgrounds could not have been more different, had endured the destruction of their home, narrowly escaped death, and reunited aboard this warship with an uncertain future. The pressure, fear, and conflict that had built up between them finally exploded completely.

Like two furious little cats with their fur standing on end, they lost all reason, screaming, shoving, and grappling with each other.

Jiliang was wearing practical pants and a short top today, which made her relatively nimble in the scuffle. Her punches and kicks had no technique behind them, but they carried plenty of spirit.

Flay, meanwhile, wore an elegant dress that had once fit her perfectly, but it had now become a considerable hindrance.

During the chaotic struggle, her skirt was pulled askew and her hair came loose. She repeatedly exposed herself as she moved, looking thoroughly disheveled. It was enough to make anyone break into a cold sweat, afraid that she might fall and hurt herself.

Xia Ya stood to one side, watching the chaotic yet strange scene before him. He shook his head helplessly, though the corner of his mouth curled into a faint smile.

On this warship, surrounded by danger and liable to come under attack at any moment, with enemies watching from nearby, these two girls were fighting over something so childish.

The sight was deeply out of place, yet it carried a peculiar liveliness that belonged to peaceful everyday life.

Like a warm current, it quietly flowed into Xia Ya's heart, tense from battle and worry, bringing him a fleeting warmth.

I should probably stop them, Xia Ya thought.

Though the scene was rather amusing, it would not do to let them continue like this. It would be bad if one of them actually got hurt, and the timing was far too inappropriate.

Steadying himself, he slowly walked toward the two girls who were completely immersed in their "battle."

Meanwhile, just as Xia Ya prepared to intervene in the "girls' war" taking place in the corner of the hangar, the atmosphere inside the Archangel's heart—the bridge—was entirely different.

There were no girls screaming or fighting here, only the cold hum of electronic instruments and a heavy, resolute pressure in the air that seemed almost tangible.

A discussion concerning the survival of this "nonexistent warship" and everyone aboard it was unfolding among the highest-ranking officers.

Before formally discussing the urgent matter of survival, Natarle Badgiruel, deputy to acting captain Murrue Ramius, first gave a detailed analysis of Jiliang's unauthorized recovery and accommodation of Flay's lifeboat aboard the Archangel, along with measures for handling the potential issues, in her usual meticulous and rigorous manner.

Natarle's expression was as stern as a frozen lake. Her sharp gaze swept across everyone present, mainly Murrue and Mu La Flaga. Her voice was steady and clear, her logic precise as a textbook. "Regarding Second Lieutenant Jiliang Yamato's unauthorized decision to recover a civilian lifeboat without requesting permission—this is an informal temporary rank granted by Heliopolis for the convenience of system operations—her actions have exceeded the authority of a civilian assistant.

Procedurally speaking, this constitutes a violation. The potential risks include, but are not limited to, the possibility of diplomatic disputes—although that possibility is low under the current circumstances—increased unnecessary burden and resource consumption for the ship, as well as the potential for creating a disruptive precedent for internal military management..."

She laid out the matter in orderly detail, analyzing its seriousness from multiple angles. She had even begun considering the wording of the report that would need to be submitted afterward and possible disciplinary recommendations.

However, Natarle herself knew that this was absolutely not the right time to pursue the matter.

More importantly, Jiliang Yamato, Xia Ya, and most of the young people aboard the ship were, strictly speaking, civilians caught up in the war, not regular Earth Alliance soldiers.

They had no military registration, so military law could not be used to restrain or punish them.

Therefore, although Natarle believed the matter of recovering the lifeboat needed to be recorded, it could only be set aside for the moment.

Like a time bomb temporarily buried underground, it might be dug up again after they resolved the immediate crisis and become a new problem.

Murrue and Mu listened silently without interrupting Natarle.

They both understood Natarle's duties and knew she was not wrong, but the reality of their predicament was far deadlier than procedural issues.

Finally, when Natarle finished her procedural statement, Mu La Flaga, who had been silently watching the star map on the main screen, was the first to break the silence.

His deep eyes, usually carrying a hint of carefree laziness, were now filled with grave concern. His low, slightly hoarse voice sounded through the quiet bridge. "What are the movements of that ZAFT ship, the Vesalius?"

Everyone immediately turned their attention to the tactical operator responsible for enemy detection.

The young sergeant, Jack Dongmu, stared intently at the complex radar display before him. Dense clusters of flickering points covered the screen, mixed with massive amounts of interference.

He tried filtering and target-locking several times, but in the end, he could only shake his head helplessly. His brow was tightly furrowed.

"...No, sir." His voice carried obvious frustration and helplessness. "There are too many Heliopolis wreckage fragments and too much interference. We can't accurately detect the enemy ship's location at all."

The shattered colony satellite Heliopolis was like a glass sphere violently smashed by a giant. Countless fragments, large and small—building wreckage, steel frameworks, even identifiable ship components—floated like ghosts through the space surrounding the Archangel.

This enormous debris field formed a natural barrier. It provided the Archangel with temporary cover while completely blocking their ability to actively search for enemies.

They were like people hiding in a dark forest filled with traps. Though temporarily safe, they had lost the ability to sense threats beyond it.

Mu nodded lightly. The result seemed to be within his expectations.

"I see..." After pondering for a moment, he turned to Murrue. His tone became a little lighter, carrying a hint of grim humor. "Then again, they probably can't find us either. That's some comfort, at least... So, what do we do next, Captain?"

He looked to Murrue with a question in his eyes, as well as the trust of someone handing over the right to decide.

Murrue Ramius stood before the captain's seat. Her upright figure cast a long shadow beneath the bridge lights, but no one could miss the heaviness she could not hide between her brows.

She stared through the viewport at the silent, freezing expanse of space dotted with countless pieces of wreckage and fell into brief contemplation.

Yes, the enemy could not determine their position for now, but that was hardly a long-term solution.

The debris field could provide cover, but it also restricted their movements.

They could not hide here forever. ZAFT would never let the matter rest. They were surely using every available means to continue their search.

Being discovered was only a matter of time.

And more urgent than being found by the enemy was another fatal issue—supplies.

Because the incident had occurred so suddenly, the Archangel had made its emergency departure in extreme haste and had not completed its planned supply loading at all.

Now, this massive warship was like a traveler lost in the desert, with only a little water left in her canteen.

Fuel, ammunition, food, medical supplies... everything was being consumed at an alarming rate.

If they did not resolve this pressing crisis, they would struggle to maintain even basic survival, let alone fight.

Not to mention that there were many civilians aboard who needed to be accommodated and cared for.

Insufficient combat strength, personnel assembled on short notice, a command system that had yet to fully mesh, an uncertain future, and no reinforcements behind them... Countless problems tangled around Murrue like a knotted mess. Yet she knew she had to seize the most critical thread—resupply.

At that moment, Natarle, who had maintained the posture of a textbook soldier, slightly raised her head. Her eyes were firm, and she made a suggestion without the slightest emotional inflection. "I recommend proceeding to Artemis Fortress."

The moment the name was spoken, the air on the bridge seemed to freeze.

Murrue Ramius's expression darkened visibly, as though sudden clouds had obscured the sunlight. A complex emotion flashed through her beautiful eyes: hesitation, resistance, and deep helplessness.

Mu La Flaga's reaction was equally obvious. The muscles at the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and his expression turned bitter, as if he had swallowed something painfully bitter. "Artemis..." he repeated softly, his tone full of uncertainty.

Artemis Fortress was not a military facility belonging to the Atlantic Federation. It belonged to another major Earth power allied with the Atlantic Federation—the Eurasian Federation—and was an impregnable military satellite renowned for its Light-Wave Defense Belt.

Like a giant umbrella suspended over the L4 Sector, it protected the Eurasian Federation's interests.

In theory, it seemed only reasonable for the Archangel to seek supplies from an ally. But the problem was...

"Will they take us in?" Mu was the first to voice the doubts in everyone's heart, his voice heavy with concern. "Our ship hasn't even been officially entered into military records yet. We don't even have an identification code. Put simply, we're a 'nonexistent vessel.' Will those Eurasian Federation officers at Artemis, famous for being rigid and xenophobic, really be willing to accept a ghost ship of unknown identity like ours and provide us with supplies?"

Natarle drew a light breath, then slowly let it out, as if weighing the risks herself. "But, Captain Flaga."

She looked at Mu. Her tone remained calm, but it carried unquestionable determination. "You also agree that, given our current state and the blockade ahead, reaching the lunar headquarters safely is almost impossible. Under circumstances where we urgently need supplies to sustain survival, I believe proceeding to Artemis, the nearest force that is theoretically allied with us, is currently the option with the most controllable risk and the highest chance of success. It is our only choice."

Mu fell silent. He looked at Natarle's face, filled with "reason" and the "optimal solution," then at Murrue's deeply furrowed brow.

He knew Natarle was right.

Not because her logic was flawless, but because in the face of cruel reality, they truly had nowhere else to go.

The journey to the Moon was long and riskier, and there was no guarantee that the lunar base could withstand ZAFT's pressure.

By comparison, nearby Artemis offered them at least a sliver of hope, even if they had to face possible hostility and obstruction from the Eurasian Federation.

"...Is that so? I suppose you're right..." Mu's tone was full of bitterness, but in the end, he nodded, accepting the helpless plan. "There is no other way." He drew a deep breath, as though trying to press all his unwillingness and worry deep into his heart.

Because he knew this was their only path to survival, the bitterness was all the more real.

Murrue Ramius had also undergone a fierce internal struggle.

More than anyone, she understood the trouble Artemis might bring, even the humiliation they might suffer.

But as acting captain, she had to take responsibility for every life aboard. Personal feelings and dignity seemed so pale and powerless before survival.