Inside the flagship command room of the Creuset Team, beyond the porthole, the shuttle carrying Lacus and Akira was gradually moving away. The pale blue exhaust spewed by its engines traced a slender and resolute trajectory in the pitch-black cosmos, eventually turning into a faint speck of light and disappearing into the folds of the nebula.
Rau Le Creuset turned around slowly, his white commander's uniform swaying slightly in the cool breeze of the cabin. A trademark, half-smiling curve still hung on his face, yet deep within those eyes concealed behind the mask, an imperceptible turbulence was hidden. His gaze fell upon the corner of his desk, where a small bottle of silver pills rested quietly. The bottle bore no markings, save for the tiny, round pills visible through the glass-that was the possibility for him to shatter the shackles bound by fate.
His fingertips brushed lightly against the cool bottle, and Creuset fell into a prolonged contemplation. The conversation with Akira Hawke not long ago still echoed clearly in his ears. That young white-uniformed major, who was clearly only in his early twenties, possessed a composure and foresight far beyond his peers. What he spoke of-"the end of the cycle of hatred" and "the possibility of coexistence between Coordinators and Naturals"-was not empty, idealistic rhetoric, but rather struck at the most secret struggle deep within Creuset's heart. Throughout his life plotting this war, seemingly to take revenge on those researchers who viewed him as a "failed product" and to take revenge on this unfair world, deep down, how could he not yearn for a "redemption" that could truly end all suffering?
Akira's words had indeed moved him. He even had a momentary trance, wanting to stop the gears that had long been turning in his hands and see if the "other path" spoken of by the young man was truly feasible. Yet reason quickly shattered that trance-the plan was already in full swing, the wounds of Junius Seven had yet to heal, the Zala radical faction had long since seized the core power of PLANT, the shadow of Blue Cosmos still loomed over the Earth Sphere, and the fates of countless people had been dragged into the flames of this war, past the point of no return.
"Call it off?" Creuset murmured in a low voice, a hint of self-mockery in his tone. "Easier said than done."
Even if he were willing to stop, even if he could abandon the obsession of a lifetime, the current political landscape was already surging with undercurrents. The hardliners of the Zala faction viewed him as a pawn while also harboring wariness toward his forces; although the Clyne Faction advocated peace, it lacked sufficient military strength to contend with them; and factions within the Earth Alliance stood in great numbers, with Blue Cosmos stirring restlessly. Without someone he trusted, someone with sufficient ability to balance all forces stepping into a high position, even if the war ended, what awaited Coordinators and Naturals would only be a new round of suspicion, hatred, and slaughter.
And Akira Hawke was undoubtedly the candidate who best matched his expectations-extraordinary command talent, top-tier mobile suit piloting skills, a clear mind, a compassionate heart, and the resolution and power hidden beneath a calm exterior. Yet precisely because of this, Creuset was all the more wary. This young man was too dazzling and too uncontrollable. Too many secrets were hidden within him, as if he could see through everything and even rewrite established destiny. Such a person, if he could be put to use, would be a sharp weapon to end the chaotic times; if he became an enemy, he would be the greatest variable in his plan.
With a firm press of his fingertips, he gripped the bottle of pills tightly, the cool sensation allowing him to calm down completely. "Akira Hawke..." he spoke slowly, his voice low and firm. "Your ideals are wonderful, but this world has never been sustained by wonderful things alone. The plan must continue. As for you... I'd like to see what kind of path you can walk in these troubled times."
With that, he put away the pills, turned, and walked toward the command console, putting on that cold mask once more. The struggle and trance in the depths of his eyes faded completely, leaving only the coldness and resolution of strategizing. "Pass down the order: the fleet will maintain its original course, accelerate, and ensure arrival at the airspace of the Eighth Fleet within the scheduled time. In addition, reconfirm the reply to the support request to ensure that surrounding units can arrive in time."
"Understood, Captain Creuset!" The communications officer responded respectfully at once. The atmosphere inside the command room grew heavy once more, with only the flashing lights of the console reflecting faces that were cold and solemn against the backdrop of the pitch-black cosmos.
Meanwhile, the shuttle carrying Lacus and Akira had already pulled away from Creuset's fleet and entered relatively safe airspace. Akira Hawke stood at the doorway of the shuttle's cockpit, watching the silhouette of Creuset's fleet shrinking outside the window. A flash of complex emotion crossed his eyes, which he quickly reined in as he turned and gave instructions to the pilot. "Reset the target, full speed ahead. My Silver Wing Fleet should already have been waiting there for a long time."
"Understood, Major Hawke!" The pilot immediately answered, manipulating the shuttle to adjust its heading. The engines operated at full capacity, turning into a stream of light as they galloped toward the scheduled rendezvous point.
Having arranged the piloting matters, Akira did not linger, turning back to return to the passenger cabin. Lacus sat by the window with her hands resting gently on her knees, her azure eyes gazing at the vast starry sky outside. A faint trace of worry lingered on her face, clearly still troubled by the earlier confrontation with Creuset and the impending war. Flay sat in the corner nearby, head lowered, her long hair obscuring her face, making her expression unreadable. From start to finish, she had not spoken a single word, merely following quietly behind Akira like a frightened little bird harboring a trace of imperceptible reliance and unease.
Akira walked over to Lacus, sat down gently, and softened his tone considerably. "Don't worry, Lacus. We will be back with the Silver Wing Fleet and in a safe place very soon. As for Creuset, I've already prepared for him; he won't make a move against us easily."
Lacus turned her head slowly to look at Akira, a glimmer of warmth in her azure eyes as she nodded gently. "I believe you, Akira. It's just... I'm worried about how much longer this war will last. How many more people will lose their homes and loved ones because of it?"
Akira was silent for a moment, then reached out to gently clasp Lacus's cool hand, speaking in a firm tone. "I know you're worried, Lacus. But please believe me, I will definitely do everything in my power to end this war and secure a truly peaceful future for Coordinators, for Naturals, and for all who love peace. This is not only my promise, but also the goal I strive for."
Feeling the warmth in Akira's hand and his resolute tone, the anxiety in Lacus's heart gradually dissipated somewhat. She leaned softly against Akira's shoulder and whispered, "With you here, I can rest easy. Akira, no matter what difficulties we encounter in the future, I will always stay by your side and support you."
"Yeah." Akira nodded gently, saying no more as he quietly accompanied Lacus, feeling this fleeting peace. He knew this peace was too precious and too brief; soon, they would once again plunge into the battlefield of blood and fire, facing even more cruel challenges.
About an hour later, the shuttle arrived at the scheduled rendezvous point. From afar, Akira caught sight of the Silver Wing Fleet-a specially modified Lauria-class high-speed warship served as the flagship, its hull painted a striking silver-blue, inlaid with a silver wing emblem on the bow. It was none other than his exclusive flagship, the Silver Wing. Surrounding it were three Lauria-class warships arranged in neat formation and guarded with strict vigilance, precisely the Silver Wing Independent Squadron under his command.
The shuttle slowly approached the Silver Wing, smoothly entering the interior through the warship's docking passage. Akira first arranged for the crew to continue transporting Lacus to PLANT and assigned dedicated personnel to ensure her safety, after which he took the still-silent Flay and walked toward his captain's quarters.
"You can rest here for now." Reaching the door of the captain's quarters, Akira turned to Flay, his tone remaining calm. "It's safe here; no one will hurt you. Once I finish handling the fleet's affairs, I'll come check on you."
Flay raised her head and glanced at Akira, a complex emotion flashing in the depths of her eyes-gratitude, unease, and a trace of imperceptible affection. She nodded lightly and whispered, "Thank you, Akira."
Saying nothing further, Akira pushed open the door to the captain's quarters, allowed Flay to enter, and then closed the door behind her before turning to walk toward the bridge. He knew that now was not the time for romantic sentiments; the deployment of the fleet and the situation on the battlefield demanded his personal control, and a massive storm was about to arrive.
Inside the bridge, lights blazed bright as the personnel were busy in a tense yet orderly fashion. The flashing lights of the consoles reflected faces of focused concentration. Heine stood before the command platform, watching the tactical screen before him with a solemn expression, occasionally issuing orders through the communicator. Hearing footsteps, he turned, saw Akira walking in, and immediately broke into a hearty smile, stepping forward quickly. "Captain! You're finally back! We're all prepared, just waiting for your orders!"
Akira nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the bridge before quickly spotting Li Bing, Luna Maria, Meirin, and Shiho. True to his prior request, Heine had brought all four women onto the warship for an internship, allowing them to accumulate experience in actual combat and improve their abilities.
Li Bing sat at the co-pilot's seat, clad in a concise military uniform, her expression calm and focused. With her hands resting on the control stick, she observed the instrument panel before her attentively. Every action appeared steady and professional, entirely devoid of her usual aloofness and detachment, replaced by a soldier's competence and resolution. Meirin sat at the MS communications officer's seat, her large green eyes fixed intently on the screen before her as her nimble fingers tapped rapidly across the control keyboard. Her expression was focused and earnest; although a slight tension occasionally surfaced, her movements remained fluid, showing she had already adapted to the rhythm of the bridge.
Luna Maria and Shiho stood behind Heine, heads lowered as they listened intently to his explanations of MS piloting techniques and battlefield tactics, nodding from time to time with expressions blending curiosity and resolve. Excitement shone in Luna Maria's eyes, clearly full of yearning for mobile suit combat; Shiho appeared even steadier, carrying a serious look deep within her eyes as she silently committed Heine's explanations to memory, striving to improve her strength so she could stand on her own and become a pillar of support for Akira as soon as possible.
"Thank you all for your hard work." Akira's voice rang out. The personnel on the bridge stopped what they were doing and saluted him respectfully, while the four women also turned to look at Akira, their faces showing varied expressions-Luna's excitement, Meirin's reliance, Shiho's firmness, and Li Bing's composure.
"Good day, Captain!" Everyone responded in unison, their voices resonant and tidy.
Akira raised his hand slightly to signal everyone to continue working, then walked up to the command platform, his gaze falling upon the tactical screen as his expression instantly turned solemn. "Heine, report on the current situation, and focus on the movements of the Archangel and the Creuset Team."
"Understood, Captain!" Heine immediately reined in his smile, turning serious as he pointed to the light points on the tactical screen and reported in detail. "According to our radar monitoring, the Archangel has successfully rendezvoused with the Earth Alliance Eighth Fleet and is currently docked in L4 airspace for supplies and personnel replenishment. We've found that recently, a large number of supply ships have been traveling back and forth between the Archangel and the Eighth Fleet, leading us to deduce that they are fully replenishing combat supplies while replacing and treating injured crew members in preparation for the upcoming battle."
He paused briefly before continuing, "Additionally, we've monitored that a shuttle left the Archangel and returned directly to Earth without stopping. Combined with the fact that the Archangel previously took in quite a few civilians, this should be the Archangel transferring those civilians away-those who were originally dragged into the fighting in Heliopolis should now have safely returned to Earth, out of danger."
Akira nodded slightly, a trace of relief flashing through his eyes. The reason he hadn't directly interfered with the Archangel's supplies and personnel transfers was precisely to allow those innocent civilians to escape the flames of war and prevent the tragedy of the original timeline from repeating itself. Now it seemed his goal had been achieved. "Very good. Civilians evacuating safely is the best news. Continue with Creuset's movements."
"Yes, Captain!" Heine nodded, tapping lightly on the control keyboard to switch the image on the tactical screen, displaying the position and movements of the Creuset Team. "According to radar monitoring, the Creuset Team is currently half a day's journey from the Eighth Fleet where the Archangel is located, and is rapidly closing in. Furthermore, we intercepted a support request sent by Creuset to the PLANT military. He has requested support from surrounding units, clearly preparing to strike the Eighth Fleet and launch a surprise attack."
"Creuset currently holds four G Series mobile suits-the Aegis, Duel, Buster, and Blitz. The performance of these four units far surpasses conventional MS, and their combat capability is extremely high. With his current forces, dealing with that bunch of rookies in the Eighth Fleet should be more than enough. He's requesting support most likely as a precaution against unexpected contingencies or fearing the Eighth Fleet might have a hidden hand," Heine added, a trace of disdain in his tone-the Eighth Fleet consisted mostly of fresh military academy graduates lacking actual combat experience, and their equipment was inferior to ZAFT forces; facing Creuset's elite troops, they stood no chance whatsoever.
Akira's gaze remained fixed intently on the Creuset Team on the tactical screen, a profound glimmer flashing deep within his eyes. He had originally intended not to interfere with the original timeline; the annihilation of the Eighth Fleet was a historical inevitability and a key catalyst driving the plot. Yet the thought of Kira's storyline on Earth, and of Andrew Waltfeld, stirred ripples in his heart.
Andrew-that comrade-in-arms who had once fought alongside him on the battlefield, a man of bright personality who seemed cynical yet was incomparably loyal-would, in the original timeline, lose Aisha, the wife he loved most, be wounded by Kira, lose an arm and an eye, and ultimately be reduced to a disabled person relying on prosthetics. At that thought, Akira could not sit idly by. Andrew was his comrade; he had an obligation to pull his brother out. Moreover, Aisha Heine possessed formidable strength and extraordinary martial prowess; if she could be rescued and allowed to stay by Lacus's side as her bodyguard, it would undoubtedly greatly enhance Lacus's safety-Lacus's identity was special, and amidst troubled times she could face danger at any moment. Having a formidable female bodyguard by her side would make her much safer.
"Heine," Akira spoke slowly, his tone firm, "immediately reply to the PLANT military, accept Creuset's support mission, lead the Silver Wing Fleet, and hurry at full speed to Creuset's preset battlefield to keep up with his pace."
"Captain?" Heine froze, an incredulous expression crossing his face. "Are you certain?"
"I am certain." Akira's tone did not waver in the least. "I have my reasons. In such a favorable engagement, rather than handing all the credit to Creuset, we might as well go grab a bowl of soup ourselves, and it can also serve to train the newcomers."
Although Heine still felt somewhat puzzled, he trusted Akira implicitly, and he had never unconditionally disobeyed Akira's decisions. "Understood, Captain! I'll arrange it right away! Pass down the order: the entire fleet to advance at full speed, destination, Creuset's preset battlefield! Also, notify all MS squads to prepare for combat and be ready to handle emergencies at any time!"
"Yes!" The personnel on the bridge sprang into action immediately, rapid commands being transmitted down the line. The Silver Wing Fleet slowly activated, its engines operating at full capacity to turn into a silver-blue streak of light as it galloped toward the airspace where the Eighth Fleet was stationed. A heaven-shaking, earth-shattering fierce battle was about to unfold.
At this moment, the airspace where the Earth Alliance Eighth Fleet was located had grown incomparably heavy. Inside the command room of the Eighth Fleet flagship Washington, Vice Admiral Halberton stood before the command platform, watching the tactical screen with a solemn expression, his brow furrowed tightly and his eyes filled with worry.
The voice of the radar officer, tinged with tension, continuously emanated from the console. "Report to the Admiral! Radar has detected an unidentified fleet approaching, currently only an hour's journey from our fleet! Preliminary identification indicates it is the ZAFT Creuset Team; strength unknown, estimated to consist of several warships and a number of mobile suits!"
"Understood." Halberton's voice was low and hoarse. His gaze remained locked onto the glowing points on the tactical screen as his fingers tapped lightly on the command platform, his brain running at high speed to formulate countermeasures. The Eighth Fleet was mostly green recruits lacking real combat experience, and facing Creuset's elite forces, their chances of winning were slim. The only thing he could do was set up a defense line as quickly as possible, prepare for battle, and buy as much time as possible to secure more opportunities for the Archangel's resupply and evacuation.
"Pass down the order: the entire fleet enters Level 1 combat readiness, all warships form a defensive array, main cannons charge, anti-air guns stand by, MS squads prepare for sortie, and be ready to respond to enemy surprise attacks at any time!" Halberton commanded in a deep, resolute tone. "Tell all crew members that no matter what happens, we cannot retreat! We are soldiers of the Earth Alliance, and our mission is to guard Earth, to guard our home! Even if we fall in battle, we must die with dignity!"
"Yes, Vice Admiral Halberton!" The communications officer immediately responded respectfully, and orders were rapidly transmitted. Every warship of the Eighth Fleet instantly entered Level 1 combat readiness. The main cannons began charging, emitting a humming sound; anti-air guns adjusted their angles toward the direction of the approaching enemy; MS pilots quickly boarded their cockpits and prepared for sortie; crew members steadfastly guarded their posts, expressions solemn and eyes resolute. Though their hearts were filled with fear, not a single person backed down-they were soldiers, and defending Earth was their mission. Even facing a formidable enemy, they would fight to the bitter end with all their might.
On the Archangel, the atmosphere in the command room was equally heavy. Captain Murrue Ramius stood before the command platform, watching the tactical screen with a solemn expression, her eyes filled with anxiety and resolution. She had already received the news of the Creuset Team's approach and knew the precarious plight of the Eighth Fleet; if they did not extend a helping hand, the Eighth Fleet would surely perish.
"Pass down the order: the Archangel prepares to advance forward to the front lines and join the defensive formation!" Murrue commanded in a deep voice. "Our Archangel possesses the sturdiest defense and the sharpest firepower. Advancing to the front lines will both share the Eighth Fleet's pressure and provide them with cover, buying time!"
"Captain! You cannot!" Just as Murrue's words fell, Major Natarle Badgiruel immediately stepped in to dissuade her. "Vice Admiral Halberton has already issued orders for us to complete our resupply as quickly as possible, then evacuate toward Earth to preserve our strength! The combat power of the Eighth Fleet is limited and they are no match for the Creuset Team. Even if we advance to the front lines, we may not change the course of the battle; instead, we might plunge the Archangel into danger, gaining far less than we lose!"
"I know the Eighth Fleet's strength is limited, and I know advancing to the front lines will be dangerous!" Murrue's emotions stirred somewhat, her voice rising a notch. "But we cannot just sit by and watch the Eighth Fleet be destroyed by the Creuset Team! We cannot just watch those young soldiers sacrifice themselves in vain! Vice Admiral Halberton is my teacher, and those soldiers are our compatriots. We have an obligation to help them, an obligation to share the pressure for them!"
"Captain, please calm down!" Badgiruel frowned, her tone serious. "Vice Admiral Halberton telling us to evacuate is not out of cowardice, but to preserve the Archangel and save our strength! The Archangel is the Earth Alliance's most advanced warship, carrying the hope of the Earth Alliance. If the Archangel is destroyed, we completely lose the capital to fight the ZAFT forces! Moreover, Vice Admiral Halberton is doing this for you, for the safety of all the crew members; he doesn't want to see anything happen to you!"
"I cannot calm down!" Murrue shook her head, her eyes brimming with determination. "I am the captain of the Archangel; I have a responsibility to protect my crew, and I have a responsibility to protect my compatriots! The Eighth Fleet is fighting bloody battles on the front lines, and we cannot simply retreat like this! Pass down the order: prepare to advance immediately, execute the command!"
"Captain!" Badgiruel wanted to continue persuading her, and the two fell into a fierce argument, making the atmosphere in the command room even more tense. The crew members kept their heads lowered, too afraid to speak. They knew Captain Ramius's temperament and also understood Major Badgiruel's concerns, leaving them at a loss for what to do.
Right at that moment, the radar officer's voice, tinged with a hint of panic, rang out abruptly, shattering the argument in the command room: "Report to the Captain! Radar has detected new targets! Numerous in number, rapidly approaching! Identification reveals one new ZAFT Nazca-class high-speed warship and three Lauria-class warships! They are projecting enemy fleet image data!"
Murrue and Badgiruel halted their argument simultaneously, turning their gazes sharply toward the tactical screen as their complexions instantly turned deathly pale. Not only the Archangel, but every warship of the Eighth Fleet and everyone in their command rooms cast their eyes toward the tactical screen, disbelief etched across their faces.
On the tactical screen, the imagery of a fleet slowly emerged-a silver-blue Nazca-class high-speed warship served as the flagship, its bow embedded with a silver wing emblem, its hull dazzlingly painted and radiating overwhelming momentum. Surrounding it were three Lauria-class warships arranged in neat formation and guarded with strict vigilance, emitting a suffocating sense of oppression.
"That warship... that paint job... that emblem..." Inside the command room of the Eighth Fleet flagship Washington, a veteran officer who had participated in previous battles pointed at the silver-blue warship on the tactical screen, his voice trembling and terror written across his face. "It's him! It's the Silver Wing Angel's forces! It's Akira Hawke's Silver Wing Fleet!"
"The Silver Wing Angel?!"
"That ZAFT ace?! That Silver Wing Angel who shot down dozens of enemy planes single-handedly and turned the tide in the Battle of Jachin Due?!"
"How could it be him?! Why is he here?! Shouldn't he be in PLANT or at Jachin Due?!"
In an instant, the command rooms of all the Eighth Fleet's warships plunged into chaos. Everyone gasped in unison, terror and despair coloring their faces. Even the rookies within the fleet turned pale and gasped upon hearing the name "Silver Wing Angel"-the prestige of the Silver Wing Angel had long spread throughout the entire Earth Alliance forces, circulating widely even in military academies, serving as a nightmare in the hearts of all Earth Forces soldiers.
They all knew that the Silver Wing Angel, Akira Hawke, was not only a top-tier mobile suit pilot but also an exceptional commander. His Silver Wing Fleet possessed formidable combat strength, superior equipment, and elite soldiers, having repeatedly defeated elite forces of the Earth Alliance without a single defeat. Now, before the Creuset Team had even arrived, the Silver Wing Fleet had arrived first. With two elite forces joining hands, the Eighth Fleet stood no chance whatsoever.
"Tactical analysis!" Vice Admiral Halberton snapped back to his senses, forcefully suppressing the terror and despair in his heart as he issued orders in a deep, resolute voice. "Analyze enemy forces immediately, assess their combat capabilities, and formulate countermeasures! Even if the Silver Wing Angel is here, we cannot back down! We are soldiers of the Earth Alliance, and even if we fall in battle, we will fight to the very end!"
"Yes, Admiral!" The tactical analysts sprang into action, rapidly analyzing the strength and combat power of the Silver Wing Fleet, their expressions turning grave.
Yet before the tactical analysts could reach a conclusion, the radar officer's voice rang out once more with a hint of panic, like a thunderclap striking everyone's hearts: "Report to the Admiral! MS approaching! Numerous in quantity! One unknown MS; judging by its paint and model, its exact designation cannot be precisely identified for now (actually Akira Hawke's custom GuAIZ R), estimated to be the Silver Wing Angel's custom unit! In addition, 16 Ginns are rapidly approaching!"
"It's not over yet!" The radar officer's voice continued, the panic in his tone growing thicker. "The Creuset Team has also begun dispatching mobile suits! Identified as four G Series mobile suits-the Aegis, Duel, Buster, and Blitz! Along with 10 Ginns! All mobile suits are rapidly closing in on our fleet, and are expected to enter the combat zone in ten minutes!"
Boom!
These words exploded like thunder inside the command rooms of all the Eighth Fleet's warships. Everyone was completely dumbfounded, despair blanketing their faces. The 17 mobile suits of the Silver Wing Fleet and the 14 mobile suits of the Creuset Team totaled 31 MS, among which were four formidable G Series mobile suits as well as the Silver Wing Angel's custom MS-such a number of mobile suits and such combat power clearly exceeded the Earth Forces' pre-war budget and far surpassed the Eighth Fleet's capacity to bear.
Originally, the Creuset Team alone, coupled with the four G Series mobile suits, already exceeded what the Eighth Fleet's rookies could handle; all they could do was fight with everything they had to buy time. But now, the elite MS of the Silver Wing Fleet had arrived as well. With two elite forces joining hands, the Eighth Fleet had no chance of victory, and annihilation was merely a matter of time.
Vice Admiral Halberton's complexion turned as pale as paper. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles whitening, his eyes filled with despair and reluctance. He knew the Eighth Fleet had no hope left, and the only thing he could do was protect the Archangel, protect Murrue, protect those young soldiers, and leave a glimmer of hope for the Earth Alliance.
"Transmit to the Archangel immediately!" Vice Admiral Halberton raised his head abruptly, his tone firm and urgent, carrying an imperceptible choke in his voice. "Captain Murrue Ramius, cease resupply immediately, initiate the Earth Descent Operation program, and evacuate at full speed toward Earth! Do not worry about the Eighth Fleet anymore, do not worry about us! Leave this place as quickly as possible, or it will be too late for everything! This is an order!"
The communicator of the Washington directly connected to the Archangel's command room, and Vice Admiral Halberton's voice transmitted clearly into everyone's ears. Hearing these words, tears instantly welled up in Murrue's eyes. She bit her lip hard, looking at the silhouette of the Eighth Fleet on the tactical screen and at those young soldiers preparing for battle, her heart filled with despair and reluctance.
She knew Halberton was right; the Eighth Fleet had no hope left, and the only thing she could do was protect the Archangel and its crew, leaving a sliver of hope for the Earth Alliance. Yet she did not want to abandon Halberton, did not want to abandon those compatriots, did not want to just watch them die on the battlefield like this.
"Captain, give the order now!" Major Badgiruel looked at Murrue with urgent tones. "Vice Admiral Halberton is right; if we don't leave now, it will be too late! We cannot let the Archangel and all our crew members sacrifice themselves here in vain!"
Murrue slowly closed her eyes as two lines of tears slid down. When she opened them again, the despair and reluctance in her eyes had been replaced by determination. She took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her face, and issued her command in a deep voice choked with emotion yet unyielding: "Pass down the order: cease resupply immediately, initiate the Earth Descent Operation program, spray the heat-resistant coating, calibrate the descent trajectory, and evacuate at full speed toward Earth! In addition, Major Badgiruel, immediately arrange for Kira Yamato to pilot the Strike Gundam, sortie, and cover the Eighth Fleet flagship Washington-buy whatever time we can! The G Series mobile suits all possess atmospheric re-entry capabilities; even if the Strike is captured by Earth's gravity, it can still land smoothly on Earth and contribute its share!"
"Yes, Captain!" Badgiruel responded immediately, rapidly transmitting the orders. Aboard the Archangel, all crew members sprang into action, carrying out preparations for the Earth Descent Operation in a tense and orderly fashion-heat-resistant coating began spraying, covering the entire hull; the descent trajectory was rapidly calibrated toward the designated area on Earth; and engines operated at full capacity in preparation for evacuation.
Meanwhile, Kira Yamato received the orders, rushed quickly to the hangar, and settled into the cockpit of the Strike Gundam. Gripping the control stick tightly, his eyes filled with determination and anger. He knew the Eighth Fleet's plight was severe, and he knew his own strength was limited, but he still had to fight with all his might to cover the Eighth Fleet, protect those innocent soldiers, and buy more time for the Archangel's evacuation.
"Strike Gundam, sortie!"
At Kira's command, the Strike Gundam catapulted out of the Archangel's hangar, transforming into a streak of light as it galloped toward the Eighth Fleet flagship Washington, preparing to throw itself into battle and cover the fleet.
At this moment, the mobile suits of the Silver Wing Fleet and the Creuset Team had closed in on the Eighth Fleet's defensive formation, and battle was poised on a hair trigger.
Akira Hawke sat in the cockpit of his mobile suit, his gaze calm as he observed the battlefield situation on the tactical screen without a ripple of emotion. Speaking into the communicator, his voice calm and firm, he transmitted it to all MS units across the entire Silver Wing Fleet: "All MS squads, heed my command, launch the attack! Target the Eighth Fleet's defensive formation, focusing strikes on enemy warship main cannons and engines to collapse their defenses! Do not get bogged down, make it swift and decisive!"
"Understood, Captain!" All MS pilots responded in unison, their voices resonant and resolute.
Simultaneously, the G Series mobile suits of the Creuset Team charged into the battlefield as well-the Aegis transformed into MA mode, turning into a red streak of light as it sped toward an Eighth Fleet warship; the Duel radiated sharp killing intent as it held its beam rifle, locking onto Earth Forces MS and pulling the trigger without hesitation; the Buster raised its large beam cannon, taking aim at the main cannons of the Eighth Fleet warships in preparation for a fatal blow; the Blitz activated its stealth mode, silently sneaking into the Earth Forces' defensive formation to ready a surprise attack.
The battle erupted instantly!
Countless beam shots, missiles, and ballistic rounds intertwined in the pitch-black cosmos, forming a dense web of firepower that roared toward the opposing side. Although the Eighth Fleet's warships resisted desperately-with main cannons and anti-air guns firing at full capacity and MS squads sortieing to intercept enemy mobile suits with all their might-the disparity in strength between the two sides was simply too vast, making the Eighth Fleet's resistance appear pale and feeble.
As the flagship of the Eighth Fleet, the Washington bore the brunt of the assault, becoming the primary target of ZAFT's concentrated strikes. A Lauria-class warship of the Creuset Team completed its main cannon charge, sending a thick beam of light roaring toward the Washington, striking its port-side armor squarely.
"BOOM-!!!"
A violent explosion resounded through the cosmos. The port-side armor of the Washington was pierced, and from the massive breach, flames soared and heavy smoke rolled as countless fragments flew in all directions. Inside the ship, screams and wails of crew members echoed; consoles were blown apart, lights extinguished, and the interior plunged into chaos.
"Report to the Admiral! Port-side armor breached, internal explosions occurring, main cannon damaged and unable to fire normally! Engines also affected, speed dropped by 50%!" The communications officer's voice, tinged with despair, reached Vice Admiral Halberton's ears.
Halberton clenched his fists tightly, looking at the miserable state of the Washington on the tactical screen, his eyes filled with despair and reluctance. Yet he did not retreat, instead commanding in a deep voice: "Pass down the order: all crew members, hold your posts and rush to repair damaged sections with all your might! Anti-air guns, continue firing to intercept enemy mobile suits and missiles! MA squads, protect the warships at all costs; do not let the enemy approach the Washington! Even if we fall in battle, we fight to the very end!"
"Yes, Admiral!"
Despite their perilous situation, the soldiers of the Eighth Fleet did not back down. They steadfastly remained at their posts, fighting with all their might against the ZAFT advance. Some crew members, injured by the shockwaves of explosions and covered in blood, refused to leave their stations, continuing to operate weapons to intercept enemy attacks. Some MA pilots, piloting obsolete Mobius units, unhesitatingly charged toward ZAFT mobile suits knowing full well certain death awaited them, without a shred of retreat, using their own lives to buy time for the warship's evacuation.
An Earth Forces escort ship blocked a heavy ZAFT missile to cover the Washington, the violent explosion instantly obliterating the entire escort ship and causing all crew members aboard to heroically give their lives; not a single person retreated, not a single person surrendered. Another escort ship, struck by the Buster's large beam cannon, suffered an engine explosion and lost control of its hull, drifting toward the depths of the cosmos. Yet even so, the ship's anti-air guns continued firing until the warship completely lost power and went totally silent.
Vice Admiral Halberton stood before the command platform, watching those heroically fallen soldiers and those destroyed warships, tears unable to be held back as they fell. He knew the Eighth Fleet could not hold out much longer, but he still had to fight with all his might to buy time, securing more opportunities for the Archangel's evacuation-that was the hope of the Earth Alliance, the hope guarded by all soldiers with their lives.
At this moment, Akira Hawke piloted his GuAIZ R through the battlefield like an unstoppable demon, delivering fatal strikes with every single sortie. His operations were precise and fluid, devoid of any redundant movements. His ACCORD ability allowed him to simultaneously process threats from multiple directions and predict enemy attack trajectories, while the SEED factor elevated his mobility and combat power to the absolute extreme.
An Earth Forces Mobius attempted to launch a sneak attack on the Silver Wing Angel from the flank, but Akira had long since anticipated the enemy's move via his ACCORD ability. He manipulated the Silver Wing Angel into a swift side-step, easily evading the enemy's gunfire while the head-mounted 75mm Anti-Aircraft Vulcan Cannon System instantly spewed fire. The rat-tat-tat of gunfire rang out, precisely striking the Mobius's engine.
"Boom!"
A violent explosion instantly blew the Mobius apart, leaving the pilot no time to utter a scream before being thoroughly buried in a sea of fire.
Another Mobius seized the moment to launch an attack, sending dozens of missiles roaring toward the Silver Wing Angel. Akira manipulated the unit, the thrusters on its back operating at full capacity, driving the machine through the missile barrage with astonishing speed to execute a series of high-difficulty evasive maneuvers. All the missiles exploded behind him, generating massive shockwaves, yet failing to inflict even the slightest scratch upon him.
While evading the missiles, Akira maneuvered the GuAIZ R to spin around abruptly, bringing its right-hand beam rifle to bear on that Mobius and pulling the trigger without hesitation. A triple burst accurately struck the Mobius's thrusters, and simultaneously, the shoulder beam cannons fired in a synchronized volley, delivering a finishing shot to completely obliterate the wreckage and prevent it from endangering friendly (ZAFT) units. The Mobius, its thrusters blown out, lost power and drifted like a severed kite toward the depths of space, ultimately being completely swallowed by a distant explosion.
Within mere minutes, Akira had piloted the Silver Wing Angel to shoot down six Earth Forces Mobius units. His movements were ghostly fast and viciously lethal; every attack was precise and fatal, plunging the Earth Forces soldiers into extreme terror.
"It's the Silver Wing Angel! He's too powerful! We're no match for him at all!"
"Run! If we don't run, we're all going to die here!"
The MA pilots of the Earth Forces looked at the silhouette of the GuAIZ R with terror in their eyes, some already losing the courage to fight and beginning to flee in panic. But Akira gave them no chance to escape, maneuvering the GuAIZ R like a clinging shadow to pursue them relentlessly. The beam rifle and shoulder beam cannons fired alternately, every shot precisely downing a fleeing Mobius, leaving the enemy no chance of survival.
Meanwhile, Kira Yamato, piloting the Strike Gundam, had arrived near the Washington and thrown himself into battle to cover the flagship. Wielding its beam rifle, the Strike Gundam locked onto a ZAFT Ginn mobile suit and pulled the trigger without hesitation. A beam of light roared forth, striking the leg of a Ginn with precision, causing it to lose its balance and stumble backward into flight.
"Who?!" The pilot of that Ginn felt a jolt of shock, immediately maneuvering the unit to turn around and aim at the Strike Gundam in preparation to launch an attack.
Yet before he could pull the trigger, the Strike Gundam had already closed in on him, its left shield slamming fiercely into the Ginn's cockpit. The immense force instantly rendered the pilot unconscious on the spot, and the Ginn, losing control, was rescued by a comrade.
Although Kira's piloting skills were not as exquisite as Akira's, he possessed extremely high talent, and combined with the formidable performance of the Strike Gundam, he displayed impressive combat capability on the battlefield. Maneuvering the Strike Gundam through the cluster of ZAFT mobile suits, he launched continuous attacks, shooting down one Ginn after another to buy precious time for the Washington's emergency repairs.
"Found you!" A cold, furious voice echoed from the communication channel-it was Yzak Joule. Piloting the Duel Gundam, he had been searching everywhere across the battlefield and finally located the Strike Gundam. The moment he laid eyes on the Strike Gundam, Yzak recalled the prior humiliation and the scene of his defeat by that very machine. The fury in his heart erupted instantly, and he manipulated the Duel Gundam to gallop toward the Strike Gundam.
"Kira Yamato! This time, I will definitely kill you!" Yzak's voice was filled with rage and resolution. The Duel Gundam raised its beam rifle, locked onto the Strike Gundam, and pulled the trigger without hesitation, sending a fierce beam of light roaring toward the target.
A pang of shock struck Kira, who immediately maneuvered the Strike Gundam in a sharp side-step to evade the gunfire. The beam grazed past the Strike Gundam's frame and struck an Earth Forces escort ship in the distance, triggering a violent explosion.
"Yzak Joule!" Kira looked at the silhouette of the Duel Gundam, a flash of anger crossing his eyes as he realized Yzak was coming after him. He did not retreat; instead, he maneuvered the Strike Gundam to turn and charge toward the Duel, bringing his own beam rifle to bear in preparation for a counterattack.
Right at that moment, the Buster also arrived, raising its large beam cannon to target the Strike Gundam in preparation for an attack alongside Yzak, jointly defeating the Strike Gundam.
"Kira Yamato, you can't escape!" The voice of Buster's pilot, Dearka Elsman, echoed from the communication channel with a trace of disdain. "Today, you're dead for sure!"
The Strike Gundam was caught in a dilemma: on one side was the enraged Yzak and the Duel Gundam, and on the other was the formidable Dearka and the Buster. Pincer-attacked from both flanks, its situation was perilous. Yet Kira did not give up; gripping the control stick tightly with determination blazing in his eyes, his SEED ability (the partial ability awakened by Kira) activated instantly, allowing him to predict the attack trajectories of both opponents and search for an opportunity to break through the pincer.
The Duel Gundam initiated the attack first, its beam rifle firing in rapid succession as beams of light roared toward the Strike Gundam, sealing off its evasive routes. Meanwhile, the Buster raised its large beam cannon, charging its power and taking aim in preparation for a fatal blow to annihilate the Strike Gundam in a single stroke.
Kira manipulated the Strike Gundam to weave through the dense beam barrage with difficulty, executing a series of high-difficulty evasive maneuvers to dodge the Duel's attacks by a hair's breadth. At the same time, he constantly adjusted his angle to search for a counterattack opportunity, occasionally firing a beam from his rifle to strike back at the Duel and disrupt its attack rhythm.
"Dammit! Can you only hide?! Kira Yamato!" Watching the continuously evading Strike Gundam, Yzak felt his anger swell further. Manipulating the Duel Gundam to accelerate and close in on the Strike, he increased the firing frequency of his beam rifle, attempting to drive the Strike Gundam into a desperate corner.
Seizing the moment, Dearka completed the charge of his large beam cannon, sending a thick beam of light roaring toward the Strike Gundam. It aimed straight for the cockpit, attempting a fatal one-hit kill.
A jolt of alarm gripped Kira, who instantly maneuvered the Strike Gundam to leap upward sharply, dodging the lethal beam by a hair's breadth. The beam grazed past the Strike Gundam's frame and struck the deck of the Washington below, triggering a violent explosion that blasted a massive breach in the deck and injured countless crew members.
"Bastard!" Witnessing the miserable state of the Washington, Kira's fury erupted instantly. He maneuvered the Strike Gundam to spin around fiercely, bringing his beam rifle to bear on the Buster and pulling the trigger without hesitation to send a fierce beam of light roaring toward it.
A wave of shock startled Dearka, who had not expected Kira to launch a sudden counterattack, and with such precision. He immediately tried to maneuver the Buster into a side-step to dodge the beam, but it was already too late. The beam struck the Buster's left arm, piercing clean through it and affecting the large beam cannon to render it unusable.
"Dammit!" Dearka roared, his heart filled with anger and frustration.
Seeing this, Yzak immediately manipulated the Duel Gundam to charge at the Strike Gundam, switching its beam rifle for a beam saber as it readied a sneak attack on the Strike's back to avenge Dearka.
Kira had long since anticipated Yzak's move. Manipulating the Strike Gundam into a sudden spin, he used his left shield to slam fiercely into the Duel's beam saber, parrying it aside. Simultaneously, his right beam saber snapped out, thrusting viciously toward the Duel's cockpit.
A jolt of alarm hit Yzak, who immediately forced the Duel Gundam to back away rapidly, dodging the strike by a narrow margin. The beam saber brushed past the Duel's cockpit, leaving a deep gouge behind.
The two plunged into fierce combat once more, the Strike Gundam and Duel Gundam engaging in close-quarters entanglement in space. Beam sabers and beam rifles intertwined, every collision generating massive shockwaves. Meanwhile, the Buster stood by the side trying to repair its damaged left arm and large beam cannon, occasionally firing a beam to disrupt their fight.
Despite the Buster's cover, the Strike Gundam was positioned in the inner defensive ring of the Earth Forces, shielded by allied warships that continuously directed their firepower at the Duel and Buster, harassing their combat. Interfered with by the friendly Earth Forces warships, the Strike Gundam, though caught in a pincer attack, managed to hold its ground and fought the Duel and Buster to a standstill, making it difficult to determine a victor for the time being.
As the battle dragged on, the Eighth Fleet's defensive formation had been completely dismantled. Most of its warships were destroyed, leaving only a handful still resisting with all their might, while crew members suffered heavy casualties. Vice Admiral Halberton stood before the command platform of the Washington, looking at the dwindling number of crew members and the closing ZAFT mobile suits, his eyes filled with despair-the Eighth Fleet could no longer hold out.
Simultaneously, Earth's gravity began to gradually increase, exerting a massive influence on all mobile suits and warships on the battlefield. The Strike Gundam, Duel Gundam, and Buster found themselves inadvertently drawn into the sphere of influence of Earth's gravity during their melee; their frames began to vibrate slightly, and maneuvering them grew increasingly difficult.
"Oh no! We've entered Earth's gravity well!" Yzak was the first to notice the anomaly. A jolt of panic hit him, and he manipulated the Duel Gundam to break free from the influence of Earth's gravity and evacuate the airspace.
Yet it was already too late. Earth's gravity grew stronger by the second, acting like an invisible giant hand that tightly gripped the three mobile suits and dragged them steadily downward toward Earth. The engines of all three MS operated at full capacity in an attempt to shake off the shackles of Earth's gravity, but to no avail. Their frames continued to descend at an ever-increasing velocity, having already crossed into the point of no return-no matter what, they could not escape Earth's gravitational pull and were forced to descend to the surface.
"Dammit!" Yzak watched his descending frame, his heart filled with anger and reluctance. He was unwilling to be captured by Earth's gravity like this, unwilling to lose to Kira Yamato in such a manner.
Kira, too, noticed the anomaly. He manipulated the Strike Gundam, attempting to adjust its attitude to slow the rate of descent, but Earth's gravity was simply too immense, and the Strike Gundam's descent speed continued to accelerate. He knew he could no longer shake off the bonds of Earth's gravity and would be forced to land on Earth.
Aboard the Archangel, Captain Murrue watched the silhouette of the Strike Gundam descending toward Earth on the tactical screen, an expression of terror gripping her face. "Kira!" she shouted aloud, calling his name with her heart filled with worry. "Immediately adjust your attitude and try to slow your descent! We will adjust our course as fast as possible to head beneath you and retrieve you!"
To save Kira, Murrue made her decision without hesitation, ordering an adjustment to the Archangel's descent trajectory to alter its original evacuation route. It flew toward the direction of the descending Strike Gundam to retrieve him; even facing greater danger, she could not abandon Kira-Kira was the hope of the Archangel, the hope of the Earth Alliance.
"Captain! After adjusting our course, we will enter the range of ZAFT's firepower, which will be extremely dangerous!" Major Badgiruel urged anxiously.
"I know!" Murrue's tone was resolute. "But we cannot abandon Kira! He is our comrade, our hope! No matter how dangerous it is, we must go retrieve him! Execute the order!"
"Yes, Captain!" Helpless, Badgiruel had no choice but to obey, rapidly adjusting the Archangel's descent trajectory to fly toward the falling Strike Gundam.
Right at that moment, an unexpected event occurred-an escape pod from an Earth Forces warship, having lost control after its vessel was destroyed, drifted like a severed kite into the battlefield between the Strike Gundam and the Duel Gundam. It happened to appear right between the two units, blocking the Duel Gundam's firing angle.
Yzak was currently consumed by extreme rage. Watching his descending frame and the Strike Gundam before him, the fury in his heart had completely spiraled out of control, robbing him of his reason. He manipulated the Duel Gundam, pointing its beam rifle at the Strike Gundam and preparing to pull the trigger; even if he couldn't defeat Kira, he would heavily damage the Strike to vent the anger in his heart.
Yet unexpectedly, the escape pod appeared out of nowhere, blocking his line of fire. Seeing this, Yzak's fury grew even more intense. Having lost his reason entirely, he gave no thought to whether there were survivors inside the escape pod, nor did he consider any consequences. He immediately shifted his muzzle to target the escape pod instead, preparing to pull the trigger, blow the pod apart, and resume his attack on the Strike Gundam.
Akira Hawke, piloting the GuAIZ R, had been closely monitoring the battle between the Duel Gundam and the Strike Gundam. He had originally intended not to interfere with their fight and let the plot unfold along its original trajectory, but the moment he saw Yzak lose his mind and prepare to fire upon the escape pod, he changed his mind instantly.
He hadn't expected that, in the absence of the civilian transport plane's interference, such an accident would still occur. Inside that escape pod, there were likely surviving Earth Forces crew members; he could not stand by and watch Yzak blow up the escape pod and murder innocent people. Moreover, he himself needed to head to Earth to rescue Andrew and Aisha, and could conveniently take advantage of this opportunity to descend to Earth in the wake of the events. His "GuAIZ" was not a G Series MS and lacked atmospheric re-entry capabilities; forcing a solo re-entry could easily result in damage to the machine or even endanger his own life. Leveraging Earth's gravity by stepping on the Duel to descend to Earth was undoubtedly the safest approach.
"Yzak Joule, stop!" Akira's voice, cold and severe, rang out from the communication channel, instantly echoing across the entire battlefield.
A jolt of shock hit Yzak, causing him to instinctively pause and look toward Akira's silhouette. A trace of wariness crossed his face, but the anger in his heart still overpowered that wariness; he refused to stop, manipulating the Duel Gundam to target the escape pod and prepare to pull the trigger.
With a cold glare, Akira hesitated no longer. He manipulated the GuAIZ R, its back-mounted thrusters operating at full capacity, driving the machine at astonishing speed toward the Duel Gundam. The instant before Yzak could pull the trigger, the GuAIZ R arrived directly above the Duel Gundam, planting a fierce stomp downward onto it with a voice bone-chillingly cold: "Yzak, have you lost your mind?!" Following that, he managed the GuAIZ to step on the Duel as they plummeted toward Earth together. At the same time, the bridge of the Silver Wing received his final message before his descent to Earth: to proceed to the vicinity of the space port at Carpentaria Base and prepare to receive him upon his return. Thereafter, due to interference from Earth's gravity, the transmission was cut off.
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