Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

Chapter 116 Faith

Kira stared at Murrue for a long time, then slowly nodded. "I understand, Captain. It's not about fighting for hatred," it's about "fighting to end the war." It's different.

"What's different?"

"Those who fight for hatred cannot see the end. Those who fight to end war can see the end. Even if that end is far away, even if they may never reach it in their lifetime, as long as they can see it, they have the motivation to keep going."

Murrue's lips curled up slightly. "Kira, you've really grown up."

Kira looked down at his hands. "Maybe. But I still don't know how to stop."

“There’s no need to stop.” Maru stood up, walked over to him, and extended her hand. “We just need to change our approach. Kira, you’re not alone. There are many people on this ship who are willing to go with you. Tohru, Miriam, Sai, Mu, Captain Bakiruru, and me. We’re all on the same ship, heading towards the same destination.”

Kira looked at the hand, tears welling in his eyes. He reached out and grasped Maru's hand. The palm was warm and strong, carrying a reassuring power.

"Captain, thank you."

"You're welcome." Maru released his hand and patted his shoulder. "Go and rest. We still have a lot to do."

Kira stood up and walked towards the bridge exit. When he reached the door, he stopped and glanced back at Maru.

"Captain, will Commander-in-Chief Asuka be coming?"

Maru was silent for a moment. "I don't know. But he said 'we'll meet again alive.' I believe him."

Kira nodded and walked out of the bridge. In the corridor, the red glow of the emergency lights cast long shadows on the floor. His steps were lighter than when he came in, perhaps because he had finally said something that had been weighing on his mind, perhaps because of Maru's words, "You've grown up," or perhaps simply because he had finally decided to "fight to end the war."

Kira did not return to his cabin late that night.

He stood in the hangar, gazing up at the Strike Gundam. Under the lights, the gray armor looked exceptionally sacred.

"Kira." A soft voice came from behind.

Kira didn't turn around. He knew who it was—the pink Hello's electronic voice rang out sharply in the silent hangar.

Lacus Clyne walked to his side and stood beside him at the feet of the Strike Force. She wore a white dress, her long pink hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes gleaming in the light. In her arms, she held the green Haro—not pink, but green. It was a gift Char had given her years ago, sent through a secret channel of the Clyne Faction, bridging the wall of hatred between PLANT and Orb.

"Miss Lux, how do you know this?"

"Haro told me," Lux said, a slight smile playing on her lips. "It was a gift from Commander-in-Chief Ashar, from Orb. It said that the seeds of peace should be planted where they are most needed."

Kira lowered his head, looking at his hands. "Miss Lacus, do you think peace will really come?"

Lux paused for a moment. "Yes. Not because I believe in miracles, but because I believe in humanity. Commander-in-Chief Asuka said that the human spirit can transcend hatred. Someday in the future, as long as we keep sowing, we will see the flowers bloom."

Kira looked up into her eyes. Those eyes reflected the emergency lights of the hangar, the towering figure of the Strike, and his own face.

"Miss Lux, have you ever seen a flower bloom?"

"I've seen it. There's a large garden on PLANT's agricultural satellite. Every spring, flowers bloom. They're colorful and beautiful."

Is it still there?

Lux lowered her head, looking at the green Haro in her arms. "I don't know. I haven't been back since the war broke out. But I believe that as long as the land remains, the flowers will bloom again. Not the same ones, but new ones."

Kira stared at her for a long time, then nodded. "I understand."

The two stood silently under the lights, gazing up at the machine. The hangar's ventilation system hummed, and the footsteps of patrolling soldiers echoed from the distant corridor. Everything was so peaceful, so ordinary.

"Kira," Lux broke the silence, "you saw Athrun today."

"Um."

"Is he... alright?"

Kira thought for a moment. "Not good. But he's still alive. Still fighting, still confused, still asking himself why."

"That's enough." Lux's voice was soft. "As long as he's still asking why, it means he hasn't given up thinking."

Those who never give up thinking will one day find the answer.

Kira turned his head and looked at Lux's profile. On that face, which appeared particularly soft under the light, there was a reassuring light—not a guarantee that "it will definitely come true," but a belief that "it's worth trying even if it doesn't come true."

"Miss Lux, you're that kind of person too."

"Who is it?"

"People who will keep asking even if they don't know the answer."

Lux's lips curled into a slight smile. "Perhaps. Because someone made me believe that the question itself is more important than the answer."

"Who?"

"Commander-in-Chief Askha"

Kira didn't ask any further questions. He turned around and looked up at the Strike Gundam again. The lights flowed across the armor like a silvery river.

"Miss Lux, I want to be like that."

"What kind of person?"

"A person who will keep asking even if they don't know the answer. A person who will keep walking even if they can't see the end. A person who will keep sowing seeds even if peace is still far away."

Lux looked at him, her eyes shining with a warm light. "Kira, you've become the person you wanted to be."

Kira's fingers paused slightly. He looked at his own hand—a hand wrapped in bandages, covered in wounds, trembling. These were the hands that had launched the assault in Heliopolis, repelled ZAFT in Artemis, rescued refugees in the Junius 7 wreckage, and in the Sahara…

The desert confronts Butterfield, and on a deserted island in the Red Sea, they shake hands with Aslan. These hands have killed and saved; they have held guns and friends; they have been stained with blood and held up hope.

Kira's voice was soft, "Maybe."

Lux didn't answer. She just stood there quietly, gazing up at the machine that gleamed under the lights with him.

The following morning, the Izumo arrived at the rendezvous point.

Mina Sahak stood at the porthole of the bridge, her red eyes fixed on the white behemoth on the distant horizon. The Archangel—the ship that had escaped from Heliopolis, the ship carrying over eight hundred refugees and soldiers, the ship that had survived time and again in the desert, on the Red Sea, and in dire straits. It had arrived.

"Commander, the Archangel has sent a communication." The communications officer's voice came from behind.

"Take it."

Maru Lamias's face appeared on the holographic screen. Her brown eyes held weariness, but even more so, a relieved gleam. Behind her, Natal Bakiruru stood ramrod straight in front of the fire control console. Kira Yamato stood in the corner of the bridge, her amber eyes fixed on the screen.

"Commander Sahak, thank you for your support." Maru's voice was hoarse, but firm.

Mina's lips curled into a slight smile. "You're welcome. Commander-in-Chief Asha is waiting for you in Orb. The Archangel will head to Orb immediately after resupplying. General Halbarton will coordinate with the Allied forces. Until then—the Izumo will escort you."

"clear."

Communication was lost. Mina turned around, her red eyes sweeping over everyone on the bridge. Their faces showed weariness, tension, and anticipation, but no fear. Because they knew they were not alone. In Orb, beside the man known as the "Red Comet," a group of people were waiting for them. Waiting for them to arrive alive, waiting for them to fight together, waiting for them to walk towards peace together.

"Order all ships," Mina's voice was calm, "full speed ahead. Target: Orb."

"yes!"

The Izumo's thrusters roared to life, leaving a white trail in its wake as it sailed toward the Archangel. The two colossal ships slowly approached each other. Crew members stood at the portholes, waving to each other. Some wept, some smiled, and some simply gazed at each other silently, their eyes filled with the light of relief after surviving a catastrophe.

Kira stood on the bridge of the Archangel, watching the approaching silver-white warship. The Izumo—Orb's flagship, Mina Sahak's ship. On that ship were people he had never seen before, stories he had never heard, and land he had never set foot on.

But that ship represented the same thing—hope.

"Kira," Thor's voice came from behind, "you're crying."

Kira raised his hand and touched his face. It was wet and warm. He had really cried.

"Perhaps," his voice was hoarse, "perhaps the sea breeze is too strong."

Thor didn't expose him, but simply reached out and gently patted his shoulder. "Let's go. To Orb. To that place where humanity is free of race. To that place where Commander-in-Chief Asuka is. To that place where perhaps peace truly will come."

Kira wiped away his tears, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Okay."

Outside the window, the morning light cast a golden glow across the Red Sea. Two massive ships sailed side by side, heading towards the Suez Canal, towards the Mediterranean, towards Aub. Behind them, the desert slept in the morning light; ahead of them, the sea awoke in the morning light. And...

Further away, in the direction of Orb, someone was waiting for them.

Char Langlad Ashar stood on the observation deck of the Dawn Corporation, gazing at the southeastern horizon. Morning light bathed his face, reflecting golden light in his deep red eyes. In his hand, he held an encrypted terminal, its screen displaying the news of the Izumo's rendezvous with the Archangel.

"VEDA," his voice was calm, "they're here."

"Yes. The Izumo and the Archangel have rendezvoused and are sailing towards the Suez Canal. They are expected to arrive in Orb in five days."

Char's lips curled into a slight smile. "Five days. In five days, they'll arrive alive."

"Yes. Are you looking forward to it?"

Char paused for a moment. He remembered Muryu's face, Natalie's eyes, Kira's silhouette, Mu's smile, and Lacus's singing. Those were the people he had saved in Heliopolis, protected in Artemis, and shielded in front of the Eighth Fleet. They weren't his subordinates, nor his citizens, but they were his comrades.

"I'm looking forward to it," Xia's voice was soft. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

He shut down his terminal, turned around, and walked into the Dawn Society's corridor. The corridor was long and brightly lit. His steps were steady, his breathing even, and the sound of his military boots tapping on the floor echoed in the empty corridor. Ahead lay the hangar, the Goddess of Justice, and preparations for the next battle. But he neither sped up nor slowed down, simply walking at his own pace.

Because he is still alive. Because they are on their way. Because peace may be very far away, but they are already on their way.