Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

Archangel, hangar.

Char stood at the foot of the golden machine, gazing up at its battered hull. In his hand, he held an encrypted terminal, the screen displaying the latest intelligence from VEDA—the location of Lacus Clyne's escape pod and the flight paths of six Combined Forces Mobile Armor.

"Commander-in-Chief Asha, the repair progress of the gold machine is 80% complete." The technician's voice came from behind. "The repair of the left shoulder armor will take at least two more hours—but the thrusters and weapon systems have been fully restored."

"That's enough." Char climbed into the cockpit and slid his finger across the touchscreen.

The cockpit door closed, and the full-screen display lit up. Char placed his right hand on the quantum interface, and VEDA's voice echoed in his consciousness: "Neural connection established. Brainwave synchronization rate—93%. All systems of the Gold Machine are normal. Minovsky nuclear reactor output power at 80%. Weapon systems at full energy."

"Thrusters activated, warm-up complete. Awaiting sortie order."

"Instruction recorded."

Char leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. His Newtype abilities became exceptionally sharp at that moment—he could "sense" the location of the escape pod, "sense" the heartbeat of the person inside, and "sense" her fear, her sorrow, and her faint but still existing hope.

"Wait for me," he whispered. "I'm coming."

Deep within the Junius 7 wreckage area.

The life pod drifted silently through the debris. Lux sat in the cramped compartment, clutching Harlow, her eyes fixed on the cold shards outside the porthole. She had stopped crying. Not because she had no tears left, but because she needed to stay awake.

The life support system in the escape pod could last for another four hours. Food and fresh water—nothing. Communication equipment—damaged, unable to send a distress signal. Her only hope was that someone would detect this faint signal and come to her rescue.

But who will come?

PLANT's fleet is too far away, and the Combine want her dead, ZAFT—her father is Siegel Klein, the leader of PLANT's moderate faction. In Patrick Sala's era, "moderate" was a dangerous label. If ZAFT's fleet finds her, she will become a political pawn—or worse, just another case of "accidental disappearance."

"Hello," she whispered, her voice hoarse, "do you think someone will come to rescue us?"

"Hello... Hello..." A thoughtful expression appeared on the pink Hello screen, then turned into a smiley face.

Lux looked at the smiling face, a slight smile playing on her lips. "You're always so optimistic."

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The image of that face flashed through her mind—deep red eyes, a composed expression, and the words, "Keep singing. Someone needs your voice." She remembered a year ago, at the concert in the Junius 7 wreckage area, she had felt his presence. Not through images, not through sound, but through an inexplicable, deeper connection. He was listening, in the distance, in the direction of Orb.

"Char Langlad Ashar," she whispered, "will you come?"

No one answered. Only the life support system in the escape pod hummed, like the heartbeat of some dying creature.

Reconnaissance soldier Kim weaves through the debris field.

Shihe's fingers gripped the control stick firmly, her eyes fixed on the faint signal on the radar screen. The escape pod was just ahead, about 500 kilometers away. But closer still, six brighter signals appeared—Coalition MAs. They were rapidly approaching the escape pod, about 300 kilometers away.

"Damn it..." Shihe gritted her teeth, pushed the control stick, and King's thrusters sprang to full speed. "Faster, faster—"

But King wasn't fast enough. The reconnaissance version was designed with "stealth" and "detection" in mind. Its weapon system consisted of only a linear rifle. If all six mobile armors attacked simultaneously, it wouldn't last three minutes.

Poetry knew this. But she didn't slow down.

Three hundred kilometers. Two hundred kilometers. One hundred kilometers. The outline of the escape pod gradually became clear in the shadows of the debris field—a small, white, solitary hull, slowly rotating in the vacuum. Shihe's fingers rested on the weapon control panel, the scope of his linear rifle aimed at the nearest mobile armor.

Just then, a golden spot of light shot out from the other side of the debris field.

Shihe's pupils contracted.

What was that? It wasn't a ZAFT MS, nor a Combine mobile armor, but a machine never seen before—golden armor, sleek lines, and a shimmering golden module on its head. It hurtled toward the escape pod at incredible speed, then came to an abrupt stop less than ten meters from it, the flames from its thrusters tracing an arc in the vacuum.

"This is..." Shihe's voice caught in her throat.

Inside the cockpit of the golden machine, Char's hands gripped the control sticks firmly. His Newtype abilities were fully activated at that moment—he could "sense" the heartbeat of the person in the escape pod, "sense" her body temperature, and "sense" her faint but still present vital signs.

She is still alive.

"VEDA, scan the status of the escape pod."

"Escape pod hull intact, life support systems functioning normally. One person inside – vital signs stable. Identification confirmed – Lux Clyne, PLANT citizen, daughter of Siegel Clyne."

Char's lips curled into a slight smile. "Lacus, this is Char Langlad Athha. I've come to pick you up. Please remain calm and do not move."

A soft, slightly trembling voice came through the communicator: "Commander-in-Chief Askha...you really came."

The golden machine's right arm extended, and its mechanical arm precisely grasped the escape pod. Char pushed the control stick, and the golden machine towed the escape pod towards the Archangel.

But just then, six MAs burst out from the shadows of the debris field.

Their weapons were already engaged, linear rifle scopes aimed at the gold-plated machine and the escape pod. Shiwa's Kim burst from the flank, positioned between the mobile armor and the escape pod. Her voice crackled in the communicator: "This is Shiwa, ZAFT. Ceasefire immediately! Target: unarmed escape pod! Violation of international law—"

Before the words were even finished, the first round of shooting began.

Shells exploded around the golden machine, shrapnel striking its armor with a piercing metallic clang. Char pushed the control stick, and the golden machine weaved through the barrage of bullets, dragging its escape pod along as it dodged each shell with astonishing agility. His hands danced rapidly across the control stick and touchscreen, each command precise to the millisecond.

But dragging the escape pod significantly reduces her mobility. An MA approaches from the flank, its linear rifle muzzle aimed at the pod's hull. If it hits, Lux will be torn apart in a vacuum.

"No--"

The gold-plated machine raised its beam rifle, and the orange beam pierced the mobile armor's cockpit at the last second. The explosion erupted silently in the vacuum, scattering debris. The escape pod was pushed by the shockwave, but the gold-plated machine's mechanical arm held on firmly.

"Commander-in-Chief Athha, more Mobile Armor is approaching!" Veda's voice rang in Char's mind.

"I know."

The Golden Machine's thrusters roared to life, dragging the escape pod as it sped towards the Archangel. Poetry and King followed closely behind, their linear rifles providing cover for the Golden Machine. Six MAs became five, five became four—but they still outnumbered each other, and they didn't care about the escape pods, international law, or anything else. All they cared about was killing that person.

On the bridge of the Archangel, Maru stared at the approaching dots of light on the radar screen, her brown eyes filled with tension.

"Captain Bakiruru, is the main gun ready?"

"Ready," Natal's voice was steady, "but the golden machine is still in the combat zone. If we open fire, it might cause damage—"

"Then use missiles. All missiles, lock onto those MAs. Fire!"

The missile launchers opened, their white contrails tracing deadly arcs in the vacuum. Six missiles were launched simultaneously, hurtling towards the Mobile Armors besieging the golden machine. Two were intercepted, four hit their targets. Explosions erupted in the starry sky, debris flying everywhere, and the four Mobile Armors were instantly transformed into fireballs.

The remaining two mobile armors did not retreat. They turned towards the Archangel, their linear rifle shells exploding on the hull, sending sparks flying. But the Archangel's armor was thick enough that the shelling did not cause fatal damage.

The golden machine dragged the escape pod into the Archangel's hangar. The moment the hatch closed, Char's finger paused on the control stick. His breathing was rapid, but his heartbeat was steady.

"Miss Lux, you're safe."

A soft, tearful voice came through the communicator: "Thank you, Commander-in-Chief Asha. Thank you..."

Char's lips curled into a slight smile. "You're welcome. It's what I should do."

Inside the hangar, Kira Yamato stood at the feet of the Strike Gundam, his amber eyes fixed on the escape pod towed in by the golden machine. The hatch opened, and a pink-haired girl stepped out. Her eyes held no fear, only a calm, almost resigned sadness.

"You are..." Kira's voice was hoarse.

Lux looked at him, her eyes reflecting the emergency lights of the hangar. "I am Lux Clyne."

Archangel, hangar.

Poetry and King were guided to land on the other side of the hangar. The cockpit opened, and a young female Coordinator climbed out. Her uniform was soaked with sweat, and her eyes were filled with vigilance. Two Archangel soldiers approached her, rifles raised and pointed at her.

"Don't move! Hands behind your head!"

Shihe did as she was told. She crouched on the ground, hands covering her head, eyes fixed on the floor. But she felt no fear—for she had prepared for the worst. In war, captured reconnaissance soldiers often face only one fate.

"Let her go." Xia's voice came from the hangar entrance.

The soldiers were stunned. "Commander-in-Chief Asha, she's ZAFT—"

"I know." Xia walked up to Shihe, squatted down, and looked her in the eye. "What's your name?"

Shihe raised her head and looked into those deep red eyes. There was no hostility or wariness in those eyes, only a calm, almost gentle light.

"Poetry and Harmony. Affiliated with ZAFT, rank: Sergeant Major."

"Poetry," Char stood up and extended his hand, "You saved Lacus Clyne's life. If it weren't for your Kin'e standing between the MA and the escape pod, she might be dead. Thank you."

Shihe stared at the hand, hesitated for a moment, and then grasped it. The palm was warm and strong, bearing the calluses from years of piloting mobile suits.

"You...you're not going to kill me?"

"Why would I kill you?" Xia released his grip. "You're a prisoner, not a criminal. We treat prisoners of war according to international law. Now—come with me. Someone wants to see you."

Inside the hangar, Lux stood beside the escape pod, cradling a pink Hello Kitty. Her gaze fell on Shihe, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes—not hostility, not wariness, but something deeper, more fundamental: understanding.

"You're a ZAFT soldier," Lux said softly. "Why did you save me?"

Poetry paused for a moment. "Miss Lux, you're only here to mourn the dead. You shouldn't have died here."

Lux looked at her, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, Shihe."

Shihe lowered her head and didn't speak. Her eyes were red, but she didn't cry.