Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

The audience was completely silent.

Then, Kira Yamato raised his hand. Not a salute, but a response—a boy's response to another's conviction. Tears welled in his amber eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

Thor raised his hand, Miria raised her hand, Sai raised his hand. One soldier after another raised his hand, one civilian after another raised his hand, one Coordinator after another raised his hand. More than eight hundred hands were raised in the hangar, like a growing forest.

Maru stood at the edge of the crowd, her eyes reflecting the raised hands. Her eyes were red, but no tears fell. She looked at Char's back, the young man standing on the platform, the one who rescued her from the ruins of Heliopolis, the one who led them out of Artemis's trap, the one who mourned in silence at the final resting place of Junius 7. A slight smile appeared on her lips, and a gentle light shone in her eyes—not the obedience of a soldier, not the trust of a comrade, but a deeper, more intimate emotion.

Natal stood before the fire control console, her eyes fixed on the raised hands. Her expression remained calm, her uniform still impeccably pressed, but her fingers—the ones gripping the data panel—had loosened. She looked at Char, her deep red eyes reflecting the light of over eight hundred hands. She wanted to say something, but in the end, she said nothing, simply standing there quietly, watching him silently, letting that warm feeling spread through her heart.

At the very back of the crowd, General Halbarton stood with his arms crossed, staring at the young man on the stage. His expression was calm, but his heart was far from calm. Char's words echoed repeatedly in his mind—"Let war end in our time." What an arrogant declaration, what an unrealistic ideal. But he too had once held the same ideal, in his youth, before he had seen so much of the reality.

He lowered his hands, but did not raise them. He looked at the raised hands—more than eight hundred hands, more than eight hundred hearts, more than eight hundred people who were willing to believe in him.

"Interesting," he said softly. "Really interesting."

In the shadows of the crowd, Lacus Clyne stood there, holding a pink Haro in her arms, her eyes fixed on Char on the stage. Her eyes reflected the raised hands, reflected the light that still shone in the darkness. Her heart pounded, not with fear, not with tension, but with something more complex, more fundamental.

She remembered that night at the Klein mansion, when he stood on the balcony, gazing at the artificial starry sky, and said, "Peace isn't something you wait for; it's something you fight for." She remembered the wreckage of the Junius 7, when he stood beside her on the bridge of the Archangel, by the porthole, and said, "They will remember." She remembered the darkness in the escape pod, his voice coming through the communicator, calm and firm—"I've come for you."

"Char Langlad Ashar," she thought to herself, "why do your words make one want to laugh and cry at the same time? Why do your eyes give one hope?"

The pink Hello jumped out of her arms and floated in the air, a twinkling star emoticon displayed on the screen. Lux looked at the emoticon, a slight smile playing on her lips, her eyes shining with a different kind of light—not girlish adoration, not politician's calculation, but something deeper, more essential.

She was looking at him, her eyes sparkling like stars.

After the rally ended, the crowd slowly dispersed. Char stood on the podium, his deep red eyes fixed on the departing figures. His Newtype abilities were still functioning; he could "sense" their emotions—no more fear, no more confusion, but a faint but still present hope.

"Commander-in-Chief Ashar." Halbarton's voice came from behind.

Char turned around. Halbarton stood behind him, hands in his pockets, his dark brown eyes fixed on him with a complex expression.

"Your speech was very inspiring," Halbarton said in a deep voice, "but inspiration alone cannot win a war."

Char's lips curled into a slight smile. "General, I'm not here to win the war. I'm here to end it."

Halbarton stared at him for a long time, then sighed. "You mentioned a 'third way.' What's that?"

Char walked to the window, gazing at the massive fleet outside. "The war between the Alliance and PLANT is essentially a cycle of hatred. Naturals' fear of Coordinators breeds discrimination; Coordinators' anger towards Naturals breeds hatred; and hatred, in turn, fuels war. To break this cycle, someone needs to stand in the middle, extend a hand, and let both sides see—the other is also human."

"So you want to be that middleman?"

"It's not just me." Char turned to look at Halbarton. "It's everyone who believes in peace. Including you, General."

Halbarton frowned. "What do you want me to do?"

"Continue to protect the Archangel, protect those children. At the same time, don't let hatred blind you. The Coordinators are not the enemy; those who incite war are. Whether it's Sara of PLANT or Azrael of the Alliance—they are warmongers, trying to destroy each other with hatred and consolidate power with death."

Halbarton remained silent for a long time. He looked into Xia's eyes, those deep red eyes held no deception, no calculation, only a calm, almost obsessive determination.

"Commander-in-Chief Askha, do you know what you're asking me to do? You're asking me to betray my country, betray my army, and betray my beliefs."

"No." Char shook his head. "I'm asking you to be true to yourself—to be true to the young man who once believed he could change the world. You're not betraying your country; you're saving it. War doesn't make any country great; it only turns them into ruins."

Halbarton stared at him for a long time, then smiled. That smile held a complex emotion—not agreement, not rejection, but something more fundamental: understanding.

"Commander-in-Chief Askha, you are dangerous. You remind me of many things I thought I had forgotten."

"for example?"

"For example, ideals." Halbarton turned around, his back to Char, "I'm old now, I don't have that much energy to change the world. But I can protect those who want to change the world. That's my responsibility, and it's my choice."

Char watched his broad back. "General, I won't ask you to make a decision immediately. Just remember—if you ever want to change things, Orb's doors will always be open for you."

Halbarton didn't turn around. "General Asha, you really like to tell people 'the door is open for you.'"

"Because the door needs someone to open it, and someone needs to come in."

Halbarton paused for a moment, then nodded. "The fleet will adopt a dense formation to cover the Archangel's landing plan on Earth. Alaska—the headquarters of the Combine. Everything we need is there—supplies, repairs, and political support."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. It's my duty." Halbarton turned around, his dark brown eyes fixed on Xia. "But if you want more people to stand by your side, you need to show them—your ideals aren't just ideals, they're achievable realities."

Char nodded. "I will."

After the meeting, Char stood alone on the observation deck of the Menelaus, gazing at the starry sky outside the window. The Eighth Fleet's warships were arrayed in the starry sky, like a group of silent giants.

Footsteps came from behind him. He didn't turn around—because he "sensed" who it was.

"Commander-in-Chief Ashar." Lux's voice was soft, like a bell in the night breeze.

Char turned around and saw her standing at the entrance of the observation deck, holding a pink Haro bag in her arms, her eyes sparkling in the starlight.

"Miss Lux, what brings you here?"

"I want to talk to you."

She walked to his side and stood beside him on the observation deck. Outside the window, the warships of the Eighth Fleet moved slowly through the starry sky, the light from their engines gleaming in the darkness.

"Commander-in-Chief Askha, your speech today... was beautiful." Her voice was gentle. "It reminded me of many things—of the consolation concert at Junius 7 a year ago, of those who raised the light in the darkness, of those who shed tears in the war."

Char looked at her, starlight reflected in his deep red eyes. "Miss Lux, your singing reminds me of many things. It reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

"Someone just like you. She also believed that songs could heal hearts, and that peace wasn't something you waited for, but something you fought for." Xia was silent for a moment. "She succeeded in the end. Although she paid a heavy price, she succeeded."

Lux stared into his eyes. "Commander-in-Chief Ashar, you're a very strange person. What you say always makes me feel—you've experienced more than I have. You've seen more of the world than I have. You've witnessed more war and peace than I have."

Char did not answer.

"But you are also a very gentle person." Lux's voice became even softer, "gentle enough to be willing to take risks for a complete stranger, gentle enough to be willing to fight for the future of those children, gentle enough to be willing to hold up a torch in the darkness."

"I'm not gentle," Xia shook his head. "I just know—if I don't do it, no one else will."

Lux looked at him, her eyes sparkling. "Commander-in-Chief Athulhu, may I call you Char?"

Char paused for a moment. "Okay."

"Char," Lux murmured the name softly, as if savoring a piece of candy. "Char...it sounds beautiful."

The pink Hello popped out of her arms and floated in the air, a smiling emoticon displayed on the screen. Lux looked at the emoticon and smiled—not the formulaic smile of a politician, not the professional expression on stage, but a genuine, heartfelt smile, filled with the innocence of a young girl.

"Char, I will continue to sing." Her voice was soft but firm. "So that people in war won't forget that they were once human. That's what I can do. What about you?"

Char gazed at the starry sky outside the window. "I'm searching for like-minded people—those who can walk with me across the same wilderness, those who can continue even after I fall. Kira, Cagalli, and you, Lacus. You are the future. I cannot let your future be swallowed up by war."

"So you're going to protect us?"

"I want to empower you to protect yourselves."

Lux stared at him for a long time, then reached out and took his hand. His palm was warm and strong, calloused from years of piloting mobile suits. She held it gently, without applying any force, as if she were holding something precious that she could lose at any moment.

"Char, you won't fall."

Why?

"Because you still have a lot to do." Lux looked up, her eyes reflecting his face. "Like, seeing the day when peace comes."

Char's lips curled into a slight smile. "Perhaps."

Outside the window, the warships of the Eighth Fleet were arrayed in the starry sky. Further away, the wreckage of Junius 7 slowly rotated in the cosmos, like the skeleton of a giant. In that resting place of the dead, on that battlefield of the living, in the hearts of those who still believed in peace, hope had not yet been extinguished.

Char delivered a speech at the gathering, and over eight hundred hands rose in the darkness. Halbarton rejected his offer, but everyone saw the urge in his eyes. Lacus watched him from the shadows, her eyes sparkling. Murrue and Natalie looked at him, their eyes filled with a tender light.

Char, standing on the observation deck, gazing at the boundless starry sky, silently said in his heart—

"The war will eventually end. Peace will eventually come. Not for us, but for the children who have not yet stepped onto the battlefield, for those who have not yet been born, for those who have lost everything in the war but still believe in peace."

Outside the window, starlight illuminated everyone's faces.