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The Lili Marleen was going to be the end of her, Sieglinde was sure. And if not the ship itself, then this mission. Emotions always ran high whenever a ship left the safety of the Garden of Thorns, but only rarely would one be gone so long, and alone to boot. And it was no milk run they were on, either.

Faintly, Sieglinde could feel the pressures of the bulk of the fleet some time behind them. In a normal situation, the distance wouldn't even seem so far, certainly no more than a few hours of travel. Instead it felt like days, if not weeks before the ship would be safely back with it's sisters, the distant pressures muffled and shrouded by the omnipresent blanket of stress and worry that perpetually surrounded the Lili Marleen.

It was bearable at first. Expected, even. Sieglinde coped with it the way she did with everything - with smiles and kind words, reassuring those around her as best she could and it helped! Emotions, though existing, were calm enough to tolerate, and people seemed to appreciate her efforts. But the closer that the Lili Marleen drew to her objective, the more tense that calm became. Sieglinde knew it would come to a head eventually. She could feel the strain building and knew that for all her effort, she could not cause it to abate.

The next morning it had accumulated into a headache the likes of which she hadn't felt since the War time. By lunch, she was suffering near constant vertigo, and the beginnings of paranoia. By mid-afternoon, she had sequestered herself to her quarters, alone except for the breaths rattling in her chest, and the heartbeat shuddering in her ears and slamming against her ribs. It helped a little bit, but she wished she could have sat in her beloved Bigro, since that always seemed to help the most. Unfortunately, the hangar was not big enough to accommodate that particular beast, so getting out to it was more hassle than Sieglinde felt it was worth at the moment.

She was hyperventilating into a paper bag by the time the call to be on standby came in, having long since evacuated the contents of her stomach. She shook while doing up her uniform jacket, because her hands were shaking so badly, and couldn't even bother to do more with her hair than collect it into a messy knot at the base of her neck. She was, however, aware enough to note that the roots were taking on a distinctly and distastefully yellow cast again, and she chided herself for forgetting to bring along any toner to banish them, and that one little fact distracted her enough to focus on making it down to the lockers, into a space suit, and out to the Bigro from there.

What followed was the worst half hour of her life.

Space had never felt more threatening than it did right now, barely a few feet away from her. Though she could barely see it, the pressures of the Orbit Patrol fleet loomed in her head like a monolith, and her heartbeat once again seemed incredibly present, but now it, like everything, seemed to move in slow motion, each lub and dub echoing in her ears like footsteps of that aforementioned monolith. She couldn't even hear herself breathing. She was sure she wasn't breathing at all. Nobody was. There was a brief moment of stillness - of absolutely nothing. The Lili Marleen herself held her breath - the groans and hums of a moving ship fading away to silence.

As they moved, Sieglinde could see the Patrol fleet with greater clarity, though from here they only looked like particularly large stars that had somehow come loose from the canvas of the sky. She fixated on them, focused on them, blocking away the nearby feelings and devoting every iota of her attention on that fleet and it's movements, much as she suspected others were doing inside the ship itself. She had no sense of time passing. And a glimmer caught her eye, and as she was only beginning to register this glimmer, her hand was moving towards the comm, and before she could think about it, her mouth was opening.

"We need to turn back."

There was a moment of silence, as the operator on the other end was no doubt flabbergasted at her breaking of the silence, but even as Sieglinde waited for a reply, she could feel a knot of dread form in her stomach, and a matching pressure building between her eyes.

"Come again, Petty officer?" the reply came, as stunned as she had expected.

"Tell the captain we need to go back. It's not going to be pretty-"

In the background she could hear the bridge aflutter, the captain of the Lili Marleen no doubt fuming . IN fact he was. His anger was a bright red flare in her mind.

"Captain, I know you're angry..." she continued, unwittingly cutting off what was to be something of a rant, "but something up there is moving and if we continue, we're going to die. We need to turn back. Now."


There was more background chatter, but Sieglinde know they'd listen. After three years of being right about things, that much, at least, was something of a foregone conclusion. Sure enough she felt the Lili groan to a halt, slowly shifting to bank away from those no-longer-so-distant glimmers.

She sagged into her seat and sighed.

The Zeon Reform Party abhors the violence taking place on the Earth Sphere. In addition, we have discovered that one of our pensioners was working as a spy to the Earth Federation Forces as a member of the Stay-Behind Forces, and executed by Stay-Behind Forces in that duty. We mourn his death as a vet, but as he was previously operating against the Earth Federation while expecting pay, it is a form of fraud. We will be sending an investigator to confirm that all pensioners are respecting the armistice.

We call on the Stay-Behind Zeon forces on Earth and Space to surrender to the Zeon Reform Party immediately. If you do this, we will offer an amnesty, defend you in court, and fold you and your mobile suit into our paid private security apparatus. To all of those that refuse, mind that we support the Earth Federation's bid to control its own territory. So, for your safety, and the good of your families in Side 3, we call on you to surrender.

Any Zeons who have found themselves in dire circumstances are encouraged to contact Chairman Tony Knight directly, explain themselves, and we will negotiate your exfiltration from these circumstances, and provide for you on Side 3. You are our brothers and sisters, and we wish to see you home safely.

Fixed.

Should be OK, not Repairing 1.

Mon OK
Tue Repairing 2
Wed Repairing 1
Thurs OK

Lili Marleen Intercepted by Earth Orbit Defense Fleet First Draft

This mobile suit was fucking amazing. It was far more agile and maneuverable than anything in École du Ciel's simulators, but was just as tough if not more so than the RX-78-2 that was programmed in. And to think it was all Link's. Suck it Amuro! The Feddies had a new ace pilot to stand above them all with an unblemished record. He had conveniently neglected to remember that they had all just lost to the Zeeks that snuck into Torrington.

Who was that blonde guy anyway? It seemed strange to Link that no one had bothered to conduct and inquiry on what happened back there. Instead they loaded up in anything that could fly and went blindly into the foggy night. They still hadn't asked him anything about what happened or what he saw when the order came for to split from the Albion. Colonel Cunt would be staying with the Albion, much to his chagrin. It would have been a good chance for him to get some alone time with her. Not that the pictures mattered anymore after a Dom destroyed the officers club in the attack, but fuck it. He wanted them for his own personal use. The song he was working on to make her lower her guard was even coming along well and when he finished he could make his move.

He snapped out of his fantasy as the cockpit of the Zephyranthes shuddered with the take off of the Yellow Brick; that woman had shitty taste in names. It didn't feel quite right though. Something was off. Like they were forgetting something. He ticked down his mental list of preparations for take off that needed to be completed. Everything seemed in order. The GP01 was aboard along with the two Dish units and the Guntank II. Enough supplies had been stored to feed everyone and provide spare parts for the equipment. A repair crew, thankfully one without Mora whom remained on Albion, was busily piecing back the damaged equipment.

Disgruntled by the uneasiness, he climbed down from the Zephyranthes' cockpit and pushed by the mosh of mechanics to reach the front of the Medea. The ground beneath him tilted when his hand gripped the door handle. Popping the hatch open he stick his head into the flight room that was marginally larger than a cockpit. “What is our status?” He questioned, keenly aware that the horizon was at a slant.

“All systems are operational, Sergeant, but we've hit a logistical snag,” the pilot informed him, the ship leveling off in his capable hands.

Link, mouth agape in the first phoneme of a question, was overrode by a voice crackling over the comms, the pickup not able to fully transcribe the yell. “Hey assholes, you forgot one!”

Rem? That was Rem. They forgot Rem? … Fuck Rem! “Keep our original course and increase our speed,” he instructed the pilot before flicking open the comms. “That's a negative ghost rider. All personnel are present and accounted for. I repeat, all personnel are present and accounted for. Yellow Brick is now commencing communications blackout as per our orders. Have a nice trip, Remmy.” He closed the comms and left the pilots instructions to come get him if something important happens. Link had a song to finish writing.

“If I clipped the wings of an angel, glued them to your back and called you special, would you love me then? Would you love me then?” He tried out the words and frowned. Sounded like some fag-o sitting on a beach somewhere. That wouldn't work at all and wasn't his style. It needed some power to it. Something stronger...

It wasn't long before he forgot all about Remington once again.

I want my god damn laser eyes!