Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

February 10, CE71, 4:00 AM, Heliopolis.

The artificial sky remained shrouded in a deep blue "night" mode, and most of the colony's inhabitants were fast asleep. The streets were deserted, save for the silent gliding of automated cleaning robots. No one knew that this peaceful satellite would soon become hell.

On the bridge of the USS Wesalis, Kruze stood in front of the holographic screen, his fingers lightly tapping the handrail. "All teams report their positions."

"Team Aslan has entered area B7." Aslan's voice came through the communicator, calm and restrained.

"Yzak team, C2 area ready."

"Diego team, take your positions in zone D4."

"Nicole team, E1 area ready."

Kruze's lips curled into a slight smile. "The operation begins."

4:17 a.m., on the outskirts of the colony.

Five GINNs launched sequentially from the catapult deck of the USS Wesalis, leaving five white trails in the vacuum of space. They did not head directly for the colony—that would have triggered alarms. Their target was the colony's outer armor, where they would plant small explosive devices at key points to clear a path for subsequent evacuation.

Meanwhile, five infiltration teams, disguised as cargo ships, infiltrated Heliopolis using civilian transport vessels. Each team was led by a Red-Clad Elite and accompanied by three to four Green-Clad Soldiers, carrying light weapons and explosive devices. Their mission was to simultaneously create explosions and chaos at multiple locations within the colony, providing cover for the G-Series heist.

4:43 a.m., Heliopolis Industrial Zone.

Aslan Zala stood by the hatch of the transport ship, looking out at the street through the blast-proof glass. The streetlights were still on, and a few early morning freight trucks drove by in the distance. He glanced down at the timer on his wrist—the second hand ticked away, each tick bringing him one step closer to the battlefield.

"Captain, the entrance to the arsenal is 500 meters away," the green-clad soldier behind him reported in a low voice.

"Proceed according to plan. Rashty and I will storm the armory; you two will provide cover." Aslan glanced at his comrade beside him—Rashty McKenzie, the elite red-clad soldier, a classmate from Aslan's military academy, with short brown hair and a cheerful smile. They were comrades-in-arms, and friends, shoulder to shoulder. "Rashty, stay close to me."

"You don't need to tell me." Rasti grinned and checked the rifle in his hand.

4:58 a.m., corridor of the Industrial College dormitory.

Frey Alsta awoke with a start from a nightmare. She dreamt she was running in the dark, hearing explosions behind her, and someone calling her name, but she couldn't make out the person's face. She sat up, gasping for breath, her chest heaving. The sky outside was still a deep blue; dawn was still some time away.

"It's just a dream..." she whispered to herself.

But she couldn't calm her heartbeat.

The explosion occurred at 5:12 a.m.

The first bomb exploded in the colony's northern commercial district. Flames shot into the sky, shards of glass flew everywhere, and the shockwave ripped the ceiling off a 24-hour convenience store that was still open. Then came the second, the third, and the fourth—explosions in areas C2, D4, and E1, almost simultaneously. Sirens shattered the pre-dawn tranquility, and people began running through the streets. Some were in pajamas, some were carrying children, and some were dragging suitcases. Fear spread like a plague among the crowd.

"Terrorist attack! ZAFT has attacked!"

"Run! Run to the shipyard!"

Kruze's calm voice came through the radio: "Teams, the Union's G-series tanks are moving from the arsenal to the transport port. Intercept them. Move out."

At 5:20 a.m., outside the arsenal.

Aslan and Rasti led their men toward the side gate of the armory. The guards were shot down before they could react—not with fatal wounds, just to the legs or shoulders. Aslan didn't want to kill, at least not now.

"Athrun, this way!" Rashti kicked open an iron door, leading to a long corridor. At the end of the corridor was the core area of ​​the armory—the storage area for the G-series weapons. Combine soldiers opened fire from behind cover on either side of the corridor, bullets ricocheting off the metal walls with piercing screams. Athrun and Rashti advanced alternately, using cover to their advantage, returning fire with pinpoint accuracy. The Coordinator's reaction speed was on full display—every bullet found its target, and every target was rendered incapacitated.

At 5:30 a.m., at the Institute of Industrial Science.

Char stood at the entrance of the academy's main building, gazing at the thick smoke rising in the distance. Explosions echoed, growing ever closer. His Newtype abilities were fully activated at that moment—he could sense the fear and despair of the people around each blast point, the murderous intent of the approaching ZAFT soldiers, and the growing pains this colony was experiencing.

"VEDA, activate the 'Ark' evacuation order. All personnel, proceed immediately to the nearest shelter. Shelter coordinates have been sent to all mobile devices."

"The Ark Order has been issued—"

He turned and walked into the teaching building. Students were already running in the corridor; some were crying, some were shouting, and some were standing there blankly, not knowing what to do. Thor pulled Sai out, and Milia chased after them with her camera in her arms.

"Commander-in-Chief Athulhu!" Thor ran up to Char. "Where's Kira? Where's Kira?"

Char's pupils contracted slightly. Kira Yamato—according to the original timeline, he should be at the armory right now, caught up in Athrun's attack, and then boarding the Strike Gundam. But this world has deviated significantly, and he had to confirm it.

"VEDA, positioned as Kira Yamato."

"Kira Yamato was last seen in the Industrial Institute's computer lab. He left an hour ago. His movement trajectory shows he was heading towards the refugee shipyard, but deviated from his route midway. It's speculated that he may have heard the explosion and turned towards the armory area."

Char closed his eyes. History hadn't changed. Kira would still be drawn in, would still board the Strike Force, and would still become the one to change the course of the war.

"Thor, you guys go first. Head towards the Orb Elevator Ground Station; there are Orb's evacuation ships there. I'm going to find Kira."

"But--"

"Walk!"

Thor gritted his teeth, grabbed Sai and Miriam and ran away.

5:35 a.m., the girls' dormitory of the college.

Frey Alsta was already dressed, her suitcase at her feet. The explosion was getting closer, and she could feel the floor shaking. Outside, people were running, shouting, and crying. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and prepared to rush out.

A hand reached out from the dim light of the corridor and grasped her wrist. It wasn't a rough pull, but a steady, inescapable force. That force reminded her of that person—steadfast even in the absence of light.

"Ashgar... Commander-in-Chief?"

Char stood before her, his deep crimson eyes gleaming faintly in the dimly lit corridor. "Stay close to me, don't let go."

Frey's heart skipped a beat, then raced faster than ever before. She gripped his shirt tightly, her fingers white, her nails digging into the fabric. The explosion erupted behind them, the shockwave ripping open the window at the end of the corridor, sending shards of glass raining down. Char reached out and shielded Frey behind him, using his back to block the shards. Glass pierced his uniform, but didn't penetrate—the Orb Defense Force uniforms had bulletproof linings.

"Walk!"

They ran towards the back gate of the academy. Students continued to join them from the rooms on both sides of the corridor, forming a stream of people. Char ran in front, holding Frey's wrist with his left hand and keeping watch with his gun in his right. His Newtype ability allowed him to sense danger ahead—there were no enemies around the corner, the stairwell was not blocked, and the exit was still open.

At 5:43 a.m., in the core area of ​​the arsenal.

Athrun and Rashti stormed into the G-series storage workshop. The two remaining mobile suits, their silver-gray armor reflecting an eerie glow in the red light of the emergency lights, stood like sleeping giants. Strike and Aegis.

"Found it." Athrun ran to the Aegis Gundam, took out the data key from his pocket, and inserted it into the interface on the side of the machine. The cockpit door slid open, and he jumped in, his fingers flying across the control panel. The OS started up; the interface was the Combine's standard system, but the core modules were the code written by Kira Yamato—fast-responding, highly fault-tolerant, and extremely adaptable.

"Aegis, activate." The sensors in the machine's eyes lit up, the green light shining like two stars in the darkness.

"Rashid, how about you over there?"

"Almost there—wait, someone's here!" Rashty's voice suddenly tightened. He saw a brown-haired boy run in from the other side of the workshop—wearing civilian clothes, thin, with sweat and dust on his face. It was Kira. He was originally going to the refugee dock, but the explosion blocked his way, so he changed course and went through the armory. He didn't know what was happening here, only that outside there was a sea of ​​fire, but here at least there was light.

"Don't move!" Rasti raised his rifle.

Kira stopped, his hands instinctively rising to his feet. His gaze passed over the gun barrel and landed on the green mobile suit—the Aegis Gundam—and Athrun, who was leaning halfway out of the cockpit. The two boys' eyes met in the red glow of the emergency lights.

Aslan's pupils contracted. That face—where had he seen it before? Not on the battlefield, not in military school. Long ago, on PLANT's agricultural satellite, in his mother's smile. Kira's face, exactly like the boy in his mother's old photograph.

"Who are you……"

Kira's mind also flashed with fragmented images: the white buildings of PLANT, her mother's smile, and the voice of a boy her age—"Kira, we'll meet again." The memories were hazy, but the boy's face was familiar.

"Athrun?"

"Kira?"

At 5:47 AM, outside the armory, Kruze's GINN burst through a hole in the outer armor, its two hands wielding linear rifles, aiming at the coalition transport convoy attempting to evacuate. Three G-series units—Duel, Storm, and Thunder—had already been loaded onto the transport vehicle.

"Yzak, Diego, Nicole, make your move."

"Roger!" Yzak's GINN burst out from the flank, blasting the transport truck's tire with a single shot. Diego's GINN followed closely behind, suppressing the escorting force's fire with machine guns. Nicole's GINN was responsible for covering the rear, intercepting reinforcements coming from the direction of the arsenal.

The three G-series machines were stolen intact.

5:50 a.m., inside the arsenal.

Gunshots rang out behind Kira. Rasti pulled the trigger, but the bullet missed Kira—Char rushed in through the side door and tackled Kira to the ground. The bullet grazed Char's shoulder, leaving a hole in the wall. Blood seeped from the wound, staining the shoulder of his uniform red.

"Let's go!" Char grabbed Kira and ran towards the Strike Gundam. The cockpit door of the white mobile suit was still open; the Alliance technicians hadn't had time to close it during their evacuation. "Kira, get in!"

"What?"

"Get up there! Start it!"

"I won't--"

"You do. You wrote the operating system, you know how to boot it."

Behind him, Rashti was reloading. Char pushed Kira aside and turned to face the red-clad elite. He raised his rifle, aiming it at Rashti. The two faced off, less than ten meters apart.

"Put down your gun," Xia said calmly.

"Don't even think about it." There was murderous intent and a hint of excitement in Rasti's eyes.

A shot rang out.

It wasn't Char who fired the shot—it was a bullet fired from the flank. ZAFT soldiers entered the armory through the outer passage and witnessed the scene. The bullet struck the ground next to Char, and shrapnel grazed his calf.

"Athrun! Take the G-series with you! Rashti, stop fighting!"

Athrun peered out of the Aegis's cockpit and glanced at Kira—who had already climbed into the Strike's cockpit and was frantically pressing the start button. In that instant, Athrun saw fear in his eyes. Not the fear of a warrior, but the fear of a boy. He didn't want to kill, didn't want to be dragged into the war, but had been thrust into this position in a flash.

"Kira—"

The Strike Gundam's eye sensors lit up. Not with a green glow, but with a pale, cold light.

6:02 AM, inside the Archangel.

Captain Maru Ramias was awakened from her sleep by the alarm on her communicator. She grabbed the communicator; on the screen was an encrypted message from the sender, "Orb Dawn Agency Emergency Communication."

"Heliopolis has been attacked by ZAFT. The Archangel is to depart immediately and proceed to the designated coordinates. Do not use the main entrance; evacuate via the emergency exits. Captain Bakiruru has received the same message."

Maru's heart pounded. She threw off the covers, grabbed her uniform, and ran out while putting it on. People were already running in the corridor—soldiers, technicians, and civilians. But there was no chaos, because Bakiruru had issued an emergency departure order five minutes earlier.

"Captain Buggyuru, did you receive this?"

"Received. The Archangel is warming up its engines and is expected to depart in fifteen minutes. Where are you?"

"In the dormitory area. Coming soon—"

"Don't go through the main passage. There are ZAFT mobile suits blocking it. Go through the E7 maintenance passage."

Following Natal's instructions, Maryu turned towards the small side door. The passage was only illuminated by emergency lights, and the air was thick with the smells of metal and machine oil. She ran about two hundred meters, turned a corner, and suddenly stopped—the passage ahead had collapsed.

"Baki Lulu, E7 lane is blocked!"

"What—you take a detour. Go through the hangar."

"Hangarion?"

"The G series has been looted, and the hangar is empty now. ZAFT may have already left. Be careful."

At 6:15 a.m., at the refugee dock.

Char held Frey's hand with his left hand and Kira's hand with his right—no, Kira wasn't beside him. The Strike Gundam had been activated five minutes earlier, and Kira had piloted it out of the armory, followed by Athrun's Aegis. The two mobile suits chased each other through the colony's passageways, soaring through narrow spaces, walls being blasted through, pipes being severed, and flames spreading behind them.

"Kirata—" Frey's voice trembled.

"He'll be alright." Char's voice was calm, but his fingers tightened around Frey's wrist.

They rushed into the refugee dockyard. It was already packed with people—Aub citizens, Union technicians, and refugees from Herpolis. Aub evacuation ships were being loaded, and order was relatively stable, but it didn't last long.

A beam of light shot down from overhead, striking the dock's dome. Tempered glass shattered, shards raining down as people screamed and scattered in panic. It was Kruse's GINN; he had breached the colony's outer defenses and begun an indiscriminate attack.

Char shielded Frey with his body, using it to block the shards of glass. This time, the shards were larger and sharper, some cutting directly into his arms and back, blood dripping onto Frey's face. She watched in horror as his blood flowed from his forehead, mingling with sweat and dripping onto her face—not cold, but warm.

"You're injured..."

"It's alright." Xia stood up and pulled her along as they continued running towards the evacuation ship.

"Commander-in-Chief Ashar!" shouted an Orb soldier, "The last ship! Hurry!"

Char pushed Frey up the gangway. "Get on."

"And you?"

"I have other things to do."

Frey grabbed his hand. "No—"

"Frei." Char looked at her, his deep red eyes remaining calm even in the firelight. "Listen to me. Live. That's an order."

He released her grip. The gangway retracted, the hatch closed. Frey stood by the porthole, watching his figure grow smaller and smaller, farther and farther away. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn't cry out, only biting her lip hard until it bled. Next to her, a woman sat holding a child, still fast asleep, oblivious to the hell outside. Frey stared at that innocent face, a surge of unprecedented impulse rising within her—not for Char, but to make herself worthy of that word—"to live."

At 6:30 a.m., on the bridge of the HMS Archangel.

Maru and Natal arrived almost simultaneously. The bridge was already occupied—Commodore Halbarton's technical team, and several civilians who had fled, including Sai Agers and Thor Kenneth. Miriam was also there, holding a camera, pale but with a determined look in her eyes.

"Captain, the Archangel has departed. Engines are 80% warm-up, weapon systems are online." Natal stood in front of the fire control console, her fingers flying across the touchscreen.

"What about MS?"

"All machines have lost contact."

Maru's fingers paused slightly.

"Wait a minute, Strike Gundam spotted?"

Maru closed her eyes. The face flashed through her mind: Char.

"Status report," she whispered. "The Strike Force is under siege by ZAFT."

"What?"

"The Strike Gundam is currently engaged in combat with ZAFT. Inform him to move closer to the Archangel. We need his capabilities."

Natal frowned, but still carried out the order. "Sending. But is the Strike's communication module intact?"

"Let's take a gamble."

At 6:45 a.m., outside the colony satellite.

The Strike Gundam tumbled in the vacuum. Kira was piloting a mobile suit for the first time, experiencing combat for the first time, and seeing live ammunition whizz past him for the first time. His body struggled under the G-forces, but his mind remained unusually clear.

Perhaps it was because the fear reached its peak that I became calm.

His fingers flew across the joystick. It wasn't thought, it was instinct—the code he'd typed countless times was now driving the machine, every joint, every thruster, every piece of armor. The machine was responding to him, as if it were alive.

"Strike, this is Archangel, please respond."

A woman's voice came through the communicator. Kira pressed the communication button.

"This is Kira Yamato."

"Kira, this is Captain Murrue Ramius. Please move toward the Archangel, and we will guide you into the hangar."

"But ZAFT—"

"Leave it to us. Just come back safely."

7:00 AM, Shuguang News Agency Command Center.

Erica Simmons stood before the holographic screen, her fingers gripping the edge of the control panel tightly. The screen displayed the real-time situation in Heliopolis—the colony's outer shell had three large holes, multiple fires had broken out inside, the refugee docks had been evacuated, but a large number of civilians were still trapped in the ruins.

Her gaze was fixed on the small screen in the lower right corner—the internal surveillance footage of the Orb evacuation ship. Frey Alsta sat in the corner, holding a strange child in her arms, her face streaked with tears but not broken.

Erica's lips curled into a slight smile. "It's good that you're alive."

At 7:30 a.m., the ruins of the refugee shipyard.

Char stood on the ruins, gazing at the burning colony in the distance. Blood still clung to his shoulders and calves, but there was no time to tend to it. Kira had already piloted the Strike, Frey was on the evacuation ship, and Murrue and Bakiruru were safe. The evacuation of Heliopolis continued, but there was nothing more he could do.

"VEDA, casualty statistics."

"Preliminary statistics: approximately 200 dead and 800 injured. The numbers are still rising. The evacuation rate in Heliopolis has reached 70%, and the evacuation rate for citizens of Orb has reached 95%."

"Not enough. Continue evacuating."

"The Strike Gundam is attempting to rendezvous with the Archangel, and ZAFT's pursuit forces have withdrawn from Herpolis."