Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

6:00 PM, bridge of the USS Archangel.

The last team of search and rescue personnel returned. They brought forty-seven survivors, including twelve children. There were no tears in the children's eyes, only an empty, numb silence. They could no longer cry.

Maru stood by the porthole, watching the stretchers being carried onto the ship. The groans of the seriously wounded could be faintly heard through the ventilation ducts, and nurses from the medical bay ran down the corridor, carrying blood-soaked trays.

"Captain, the total number of survivors has reached 531," Natal said calmly, standing behind her. "But many people are still trapped in the rubble. According to the rescue team's estimates, a complete evacuation will take at least ten hours."

"We don't have ten hours," Maru said in a low voice. "Commander-in-Chief Asha's judgment is correct. Kruze will make his move tonight."

"Then what do we do? Abandon those who are still alive?"

Maru turned to look at Natal. Her cold, expressionless face held a barely perceptible flicker in her eyes—not fear, but resentment. On the battlefield, abandoning civilians was the most painful choice.

"Captain Bakiruru, do you trust Commander-in-Chief Asha?"

Natal was silent for a moment. "I trust his judgment. As for him as a person—we're still observing."

Maru's lips curled up slightly. "You're very strict with him."

"Because he is the commander-in-chief of Orb, not an officer of the Atlantic Federation. If something goes wrong with him, the responsibility is not on him, but on us. We chose to trust him."

The bridge door slid open, and Char walked in. He was already wearing a military jacket, which covered the bandage on his left shoulder. His deep red eyes gleamed faintly in the bridge lights, his steps were steady, and his breathing was even; he didn't look like a wounded man.

"Captain, Captain Bakiruru. I need to confirm the evacuation plan with you."

He walked to the tactical table and pulled up a map of Heliopolis. Red arrows marked possible ZAFT attack routes, green arrows marked the Archangel's evacuation route, and yellow areas marked civilian settlements that had not yet been evacuated.

"The Golden Machines will establish a defensive line around the colony to intercept ZAFT's mobile suit forces. The Archangel will use this time to withdraw from the E7 shipyard and head south towards the debris field. Orb's fleet is waiting there."

"Ob's fleet?" Natal frowned slightly.

"The Sahak family's Izumo has been maintaining radio silence in the debris field," Char said without hiding anything. "They won't actively intervene in the battle, but if the Archangel needs shelter, Orb can provide it."

Maru looked at him, her brown eyes filled with complex emotions. "You had it all planned out in advance."

"Because I know you will need help. In war, no one is an island."

A moment of silence fell over the bridge. Char put away his tactical pen and stood up straight. "Captain, I need your decision."

Murrue took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her eyes held a resolute determination. "The Archangel will proceed according to Commander-in-Chief Athha's plan. All personnel prepare for evacuation. But there's one condition—Commander-in-Chief Athha, you must return alive. Not just as the commander-in-chief of Orb, but as a friend of all of us."

Xia looked at her, a hint of warmth flashing in his deep red eyes. "I will. This is our promise."

Late at night, in the outer reaches of Heliopolis.

On the bridge of the USS Wesalis, Kruze stood in front of the holographic screen, his fingers lightly tapping the handrail. The screen displayed live surveillance footage of Heliopolis—the colony's outer shell was riddled with holes, and smoke was billowing from many places inside, but the Archangel's signal was still intact.

His sixth sense was throbbing. Not a physical pain, but an inexplicable unease. It was an intuition honed through countless battles—something was wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"Captain, the preparation progress of each unit." The adjutant's voice came from behind. "Yzak's team needs another two hours, Diego's team needs another three hours, and Nicole's team has suffered heavy damage and needs another four hours. Only—"

"Aslan's Holy Shield," Kruze continued.

"Yes. He volunteered for the sortie and has completed preparations. Lieutenant Athrun requested to sortie alone to engage the Strike Gundam."

Kruze fell silent. His gaze fell on the faint signal on the holographic screen—the Archangel, and the white mobile suit known as the "Strike Gundam."

"Tell Athrun to agree to his request." Kruze turned around, his gaze behind the mask icy. "But on one condition—if the negotiations fail, he must personally destroy the Strike Gundam. Also, have Yzak, Diego, and Nicole's forces launch an attack immediately after they are fully prepared, without waiting for my orders."

"Captain, if we launch an attack before all the troops are fully prepared, won't that be—"

"No," Kruze interrupted him. "The advantage is still with us. One Aegis plus six GINNs are enough to deal with a damaged warship and a mobile suit that isn't fully repaired."

What he didn't say aloud was—the factor that unsettled him wasn't the Archangel, nor the Strike Gundam, but another person. The man still alive inside Heliopolis, known as the "Red Comet." If that person also joined the battle piloting a mobile suit, the situation would become unpredictable. Therefore, he had to end the battle before the enemy could prepare.

"Order all units to advance the battle schedule. The entire army will launch an attack in four hours."

The adjutant was stunned. "Four hours? It was originally scheduled for eight hours later—"

"Execute the command."

"yes!"

At 9:30 PM, inside Heliopolis, on the bridge of the Archangel.

Char's pupils suddenly contracted.

It wasn't a visual contraction, but a violent fluctuation at the level of consciousness. He had encountered that feeling before at the Equatorial Union—killing intent, but not the killing intent of one person, but the killing intent of a group. Cold, targeted, and approaching malice.

"Commander-in-Chief Asuka?" Maru noticed his unusual behavior. "What's wrong?"

Char closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. His Newtype abilities were fully activated at that moment; he could sense the approaching malice—six GINNs and one Aegis. They were approximately 20,000 kilometers from the colony, approaching at combat speed.

"Kruze is ahead of schedule." Char opened his eyes, a cold light flashing in his deep red pupils. "ZAFT's mobile suit forces will arrive in three hours."

The air in the bridge seemed to freeze.

Natal's fingers flew across the fire control console, bringing up space surveillance data. On the radar screen, seven dots were rapidly approaching Heliopolis.

"Target confirmed. Six GINNs, one model still being confirmed—it's definitely one of the stolen G-series, the Aegis. Estimated arrival time—two hours and fifty minutes."

Mu leaned back in his chair and whistled. "Four hours early. That masked man is really impatient."

Char's voice was calm. "It was intuition. He sensed something was wrong, so he acted in advance. Kruze didn't rely on data; he relied on instinct."

"What about our evacuation plan?" Maru's voice tightened slightly.

"Accelerate." Char walked to the tactical table. "Golden Machines, launch immediately and establish a defensive line around the colony. Archangel, reduce the evacuation time to within two hours, and carry as many civilians as possible. The rest—"

He didn't continue. Because "the rest" meant giving up.

Kira stood at the bridge entrance, his amber eyes fixed on Char's retreating figure. "Commander-in-Chief Athha, what about the Strike Force? I need to sortie too."

Char turned around and looked at the boy. He was afraid—Char could feel his heart racing, his palms sweating, and his pupils slightly dilated. But he persevered, without backing down.

"What's the repair progress on the assault vehicle?"

"The thrusters are repaired, and the damage to the left shoulder armor does not affect mobility," Natal replied. "System energy is full."

"That's enough." Kira's voice held a hint of stubbornness. "I can fight."

Char stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. "Alright. You'll sortie with the golden machine, but establish a defensive line on the perimeter of the colony. Don't venture deep into enemy territory, and don't linger in combat. Your mission is to buy time, not to shoot down enemy aircraft."

"I see."

At 9:50 PM, in the Archangel hangar.

Both mobile suits activated simultaneously. The Minovsky nuclear reactor of the gold-plated mobile suit emitted a deep hum, and indicator lights lit up one by one. The PS armor of the Strike Gundam activated, its surface gleaming with the glow of activation. Kira sat in the cockpit of the Strike, his hands gripping the control sticks, his fingers trembling slightly. It wasn't just fear, but also tension.

"Kira," Char's voice came through the communicator, "Remember my words—don't think, let your body make the decisions. Your instincts are more reliable than your brain, and death won't come when you're ready."

"I've got it."

"And—come back alive."

"Golden Machine, Char Langlad Athha, launch!"

Communication was lost. The golden machine's thrusters spewed blue flames as it slid off the catapult deck and soared into the starry sky. The Strike Gundam followed closely behind, its form standing out vividly against the starlight.

Maru stood at the porthole on the bridge, watching the two points of light grow smaller and smaller.

"Captain Bakirulu," her voice was soft, "notify all departments to reduce the evacuation time to two hours. Take as many civilians as you can."

"Yes."

Outside the window, the starry sky remained serene. But everyone knew that the tranquility was about to be shattered.

At the same time, on the bridge of the USS Wesalis.

Kruse stood in front of the holographic screen, staring at the surveillance footage from Heliopolis. He had been standing there for a long time, so long that his adjutant behind him began to exchange uneasy glances. No one knew what he was thinking, and no one dared to ask.

But his heart was not at peace.

That feeling returned—indescribable, like a thin needle pricking the back of his neck, like a cold wind sweeping across his spine. He wasn't a Coordinator; he was a clone of a Natural, with physical defects and genetic flaws. But his intuition—that almost beast-like intuition honed through countless battles—had never been wrong.