View source for 2024-05-09: A Hero's Last Moments

{{CutsceneP2
|cast=Murrue Ramius, Mu La Flaga
|location=Side 2 - PLANTs
|summary=The last moments of a hero during the events of the final battle in the Bloody Valentine Conflict.
}}
{{PhaseAndTurn
|phase=2
|turn=1
}}
 <Pose Tracker> Mu La Flaga has posed.
<poem>
        February 2nd, 0097. Side 2, the PLANTs.

        After almost two years since the Bloody Valentine Conflict began, it
 has reached its peak. The Federation blocs have launched a combined assault
 against the PLANTs using multiple fleets. Some equipped with considerable
 numbers of nuclear weapons which have already been launched at the vulnerable
 hourglass colonies. Despite a valiant effort on behalf of ZAFT and the Three
 Ships Alliance, the PLANT Quintilis Five was destroyed in nuclear fire, ending
 the lives of thousands in a single moment.

        In retaliation, the giant superweapon known as GENESIS was revealed and
 fired on the orders of Patrick Zala. The giant gamma ray beam lanced out
 through space towards the Orbital Ring, glancing across one of the huge
 towers, killing thousands more in the process.

        The Three Ships Alliance, with some assistance from certain Federation
 assets, turned their attention to destroying GENESIS, sending their mobile
 weapons to attack from within while their capital ships attacked from without.

        However, much of the Federation fleets continued to follow the orders
 of Murata Azrael and attack the PLANTs, continuing their attempts to overwhelm
 the outnumbered ZAFT defenders and get their nukes through. Of course, ZAFT is
 not alone in that fight as some from the Three Ships Alliance assist in
 defending the colonies, despite the great risk involved.

        Mu La Flaga is one such person, currently darting through space in the
 Strike Gundam. Decked out in all of its Striker Packs, it's no doubt a little
 unwieldy, yet Mu is using the machine to its fullest as he unleashes another
 alpha strike from all his weapons, clearing out a wave of nuclear missiles
 that detonate with blossoming explosions of light in the dark depths of space.

        A little exhausted but nonetheless continuing to push on, Mu jokes
 across his radio channel to the Archangel, &lt;"First an unending wave of nukes
 and now a giant laser that threatens to burn the Earth to a crisp... We're
 definitely earning our hazard pay with this one. Or would be, if we were being
 paid."&gt;

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
<poem>
          Through the front windows of the Archangel's bridge, all Murrue
 Ramius can see are the flashing detonations of exploding mobile suits and
 ships of the Earth Federation Forces and ZAFT, intermingling with the stars of
 the vast infinity of space. The Archangel has joined the force of Three Ship
 Alliance forces and ZAFT in defending the fragile PLANTs from further nuclear
 attack. Her entire service in the Bloody Valentine Conflict has lead up to
 this. First as a loyal member of the Earth Federation, now a defector and
 fugitive from a corrupt regime. At least she wasn't alone, nearly the entire
 compliment of the Archangel joining her, including the man out there amongst
 those flashes of light, in the pilot's seat of the Strike Gundam and making
 wisecracks. Murrue couldn't help but feel a bit more at ease knowing Mu had
 enough time to make jokes.

        The Archangel led a small task force of ships and mobile suit pilots,
 tasked with helping ZAFT defend their homes. No one could argue that the 3SA
 was one sided. From behind and below her, PO 1st Class Chandra announces yet
 another wave of Nuclear Missile equipped mobile armours headed to the PLANTs.

"This is the Archangel!" Murrue spoke into the handset wired to her command
 chair, over the command channel to the Mobile Suit Pilots and supporting
 ships. "Another wave has launched from the EFSF Nuclear Attack Fleet! All
 ships orient to sector 35-Bravo and begin long range cover for all
 intercepting Mobile Suits! Don't let a single one through!"

         Murrue returned the handset to its cradle and ordered Ensign Neumann
 to point the Archangel towards an intercept point of the rocketing Mobile
 Armours.
</poem>

 <Pose Tracker> Mu La Flaga has posed.
<poem>
        Mu frowns as he hears the alert about another wave of units armed with
 nukes. While he has been putting up a good face with his wisecracks, part of
 that is to help hide just how tired he is becoming. A second major battle in
 as many days... Even he is starting to feel the strain.

        'This needs to end! Humanity needs to end! And those that rise from the
 ashes will have a second chance. A chance to do it right. It's too late for
 any of you to stop anything now. It's already beginning!'

        Of course, the crazed ravings of the mad man that is Rau Le Creuset,
 currently fighting with Mu's allies within the interior of GENESIS in the
 Providence Gundam, aren't doing much to improve Mu's mood. He's had enough of
 that lunatic, though as much as Mu wants to deal with that damaged clone of
 his father, Mu's enough of a good soldier to recognize that his priority is to
 protect civilian lives.

        And of course, those he cares about.

        Thus Mu does his job, moving to assist the Archangel and other defends
 of the PLANTs in shooting down this new wave.

        It seems though that the efforts of the the Strike and Archangel are
 not going unnoticed. One of the Federation fleet admirals, and secret Blue
 Cosmos member, redirects what remains his ships the two in a last ditched
 attempt to distract them so some nukes can get through. The Agamemnon-class
 flagship, supported by a few other warships and some mobile weapons, begin to
 close the distance to the Archangel and Strike's positions. Weapons fire
 begins to blast out towards them.

        Mu weaves his way through the beam fire of several attackers,
 responding with his own from his rifle. He clicks his tongue, &lt;"Tch, looks
 like we've drawn some unwanted attention. Watch out, Archangel!"&gt;


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
<poem>
         "Neumann! Evasive Action!" Murrue orders. "Crewman Argyle! Laze the
 Agamemnon - Class and prepare to fire the Gottfried and Valliants on my-"

         The Archangel shudders and Murrue is thrown in her seat, as a Clyne
 Faction Laurasia - Class Frigate detonates in a catastrophic explosion off to
 the Archangel's Starboard side. Beam cannons began to slam into the Archangel,
 being absorbed and dispersed by its armour. A crewmember down in the CIC
 reported heavy impact damage to the side of the Archangel.

        "Neumann! Take evasive action now!" Murrue ordered.

        "I can't! The impact damaged the TTS! It's undergoing a full system
 reset and I can't override it!" Neumann shouted back, desperately trying to
 work the controls.

         Murrue paled. The Translational Thruster System was the only way the
 Archangel could move vertically, horizontally, turn or orient itself in
 zero-gravity. If it was under going a full system reset, they were practically
 dead in the water for the next five minutes. Evasive maneuvers were
 non-existent. Murrue thought quickly. If they used independent engine control
 they could at the very least change their orientation horizontally using
 alternating engine thrust. But what good would that do, the best they could do
 besides go forward and turn was go in circles. It would be child's play to
 keep track of the Archangel and-

         Murrue's thoughts were cut off by another harsh blast to the Archangel
 tossing her in her seat once more.

         "Deploy a full spread of Anti-Beam Depth Charges! Neumann, do what you
 can to get the system rebooting faster! We may need to turn the ship and
 redistribute the heat build up on the hull!"

         Things were not going well. Murrue was quickly realizing that full
 bridge command of her ship was too much for one officer. She needed an XO back
 down in the CIC.

         She needed Natarle. But Natarle wasn't there, she was out there,
 amongst those EFSF ships, doing what Murrue could only hope was the right
 thing.

         The beam cannons continued impacting the Archangel.
</poem>

 <Pose Tracker> Mu La Flaga has posed.
<poem>
        A beam from a Federation unit connects with the Strike's right arm,
 burning clean through it and separating the limb from the rest of the unit. Mu
 manages to pull back as the power flowing through the severed limb causes it
 to explode in a flash. The Agni cannon attached on the back of the machine's
 left shoulder folds up into reach of the left hand, Mu grabbing it and firing
 off a shot. The large beam fires, piercing through the unit that had damaged
 Mu's machine and continuing on to strafe across one of the charging warship
 escorts, seriously damaging it.

        Having taken a serious blow, Mu starts to consider pulling back for now
 to get some emergency repairs... Except they are being overwhelmed right now.

        Which is when he notices that the Archangel has stopped taking evasive
 action, despite the Agamemnon and its force bearing down on them. He tries to
 radio, &lt;"Archangel!? What's wrong!?"&gt; But with all the chaos of the battle and
 the Archangel's condition, it doesn't seem to get through. He needs to do
 something... But he's too far away, pushed out of position by the constant
 attacks...

        No. He can do this!

        Mu rapidly presses several buttons, jettisoning the various additional
 packs on the Perfect Strike and leaving only the basic Aile Striker pack. Now
 far less burdened, Mu pushes the throttle hard, starting to blast across space
 back towards the Archangel.

        Mu is rapidly closing. Yet still too far away. With his heightened
 awareness he registers the large Gottfried turrets on the Agamemnon adjusting
 their aim. Light beginning to flood the inside of their barrels. He pushes
 more power into the Strike's verniers, sending them into the red and causing
 the damaged unit's frame around him to start shaking from the force of the
 thrust.

        The Agamemnon fires, its large beams streaking out across space towards
 the Archangel, aiming to take advantage of its stationary state and converge
 on its bridge. They are mere moments from hitting!

        The Strike flies in at the last moment, stopping in front of the
 Archangel's bridge and bringing the shield in its left hand into the path of
 the beams. The energy smashes into it, splashing out across the shield and
 into the space around the Strike and the Archangel.

        The anti-beam coating on the shield appears to be working! In the
 cockpit, Mu squints at the bright light filling his forward screens. Barely
 able to make out the shield as it holds back the torrent of energy. He
 chuckles, turning his head to look back at one of the rear views showing the
 Archangel behind him. He can just barely make out Murrue through the bridge
 windows, saying, &lt;"I seem to have a knack for making the impossible possi-"&gt;

        Something inside the cockpit explodes. The Strike's shield starts to
 finally give way under the assault, melting into nothing. The rest of the
 Strike begins to follow suit, its armor turning to slag as its limbs are torn
 apart. Until finally there is a single, large explosion throwing up a cloud of
 smoke, just as the Agamemnon's beams taper off.

        As the smoke passes, there is little left of the Strike but a quickly
 expanding field of small bits of debris.


</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
<poem>
         Murrue had seen the Agamemnon-Class's cannons turn to bear on the
 Archangel. The Anti-Beam Depth Charges were damaged as well, and couldn't be
 fired. Her eyes widened as she saw the glow of the internal systems spooling
 up. Murrue desperately ordered Neumann to take evasive but it was too late.
 The beam fired forwards, and Murrue closed her eyes. She didn't curse not
 wearing a Normal suit. She knew that if the bridge did take a direct hit there
 was going to be no survival. She braced herself for oblivion.

        I'm sorry Mu. Murrue thought, counting down the seconds as the bright
 glowing green energy emitted through her eyelids. I'm sorry I have to be to
 you what Michael was to me. A lost love.

         Then, the light dimmed, like it was being blocked. Murrue opened her
 eyes to see the silhouette of the Strike, taking the full blast of the
 Gottfried head on. She looked up at the overhead display showing Mu's smoke
 filled cockpit. She heard his last words...

         The detonation rocked the bridge once more, and when the smoke
 cleared, Murrue could see the Strike was gone.

        Gone.

        Gone.

        Gone.

         Murrue could feel her eyes welling up. It felt like a thousand blades
 started to stab into her heart and her stomach.

        No. No. NO. NO! NO! NONONONONO! NOT AGAIN. NOT AGAIN!  She thought, her
 head beginning to spin and her body folding over. No...No...Murrue keep
 it...Murrue keep it together. The...your crew needs you to...to keep it
 together... Her thoughts began to flash with image after image. His handsome
 blue eyes. His strong arms. His smile, his wise cracks, his calming presence,
 his strong embrace...Gone. Gone. GONE.

         Murrue couldn't help it. She wrenched her head back and gripped the
 arms of her chair tight enough to rip the bolts loose, and she screamed and
 wailed his name.

        "M-Ma'am!" Neumann shouted. "The system reset! I have full con-"

         Murrue opened her eyes again. Her teeth chattered and then clenched
 closed. All she could see was red.

         Red, and the bastard who just ruined her life. In a ship flying the
 flag of a state that didn't care how many innocent lives it snuffed out.

        "ENGINES TO FULL!" Murrue ordered, her rage shredding through the ears
 of the bridge crew. "ARM BOTH LOHENGRINS! MAXIMUM OUTPUT! TARGET THE
 AGAMEMNON-CLASS AND FIRE ON MY ORDER!"

         The Archangel oriented itself onto the target. Both of its legs
 opening up and revealing the two Positron Blaster Cannons within. The two
 cannons converged onto the Agamemnon-Class. Sai barely had time to announce
 the weapons were ready, before Murrue unleashed all of her sorrow.

        "FIRE!"

         The two beams of red and blue light lanced out from the Archangel's
 legs. Murrue watched as the converged into the Agamemnon, ripping it apart on
 a molecular level, its detonation serving as Mu's funeral pyre.

---

         Murrue snapped awake, gasping, her body drenched in sweat. 
She looked around, and her breathing slowed as she realized she was back in her 
bedroom, at the manor on Akatsuki Island. The pale moonlight shone through the large windows, 
casting the room in a bluish tint. Murrue looked over at the clock sitting on her nightstand, its soft 
luminated numbers telling her it was just a bit after midnight on the 9th of May, 0099. 
Murrue dropped her head back onto her pillow...but she knew she couldn't fall asleep so easily again. 
She tossed off the comforter, sat up and slid her legs over the side of the bed and into her slippers. 
She stood, cladding herself in her robe, which she allowed to stay open.   

Murrue walked over to the table on the other side of the room, at her collection of pictures, all 
lovingly framed. The oldest was her, her mother, and her father, posing for a family picture. 
She was being held up by her father, as her mother held his Officer's cap on Murrue's little head, 
smiles all around. She remembered how she was always told she had her father's eyes and her mother's 
lovely brown hair. She was only 6 in that picture. It was taken just after Christmas, before her father 
was deployed back into space in response to the growing tensions with Zeon. A few weeks later, 
she and her mother received the news he had been killed at Loum. Not long after that, 
her mother dropped her at an Earth Federation Boarding school 
for military children...and that was the last she ever saw of her.

Murrue was fifteen in the picture of her graduation parade, 
saluting the reviewing officer in the summer of 0087. She was beaming in 
her Pink EFSF Youth Auxiliary jacket, her first step following dad into the Military. S
he remembered not long after she was approached by the Titans Task Force. Apparently they saw 
something in her, even though she was just a pencil pusher. She turned them down, always seeing 
them as a bunch of bullies. Murrue shuddered thinking about what happened to all of them in the end, 
not that they didn't deserve it.

0092. Now she was in the tan big girl uniform. She decided to commission at that point, just like dad. 
Luckily she had the grades to back it up. She and her room-mate, Mira were both assigned to a newly 
forming task force called Londo Bell, and the picture of the two of them at the academy was taken 
just before Murrue went off to be a technical liaison with Anaheim, and Mira went off to join the 
Mobile Suit pilots, where she was shot down helping stop Char's Rebellion. 
It wasn't long afterwards that Captain (at the time) Halberton had picked her for the special project 
he was leading: the next generation of Federation Mobile Suits, the start of Phase-Shift technology.

Murrue looked long and hard at the picture of her with a handsome, smiling, tall dark haired man, arms around each other, 
her lips firmly planted on his cheek as he took the picture. Without thinking, she was rubbing the small casket shaped locket 
dangling from her neck. Her father warned her about falling for mobile armour pilots. But Michael... he never failed to make her laugh, 
he never failed to please her, he treated her like a Queen. He died too. Not long after the war, her war, her real war started. 
He was taken down by a GINN over the Sea of Tranquility on the Moon. They told her he was dead before his Moebius hit the ground 
and she very much wanted to believe them. She spent a long time burying herself in the PS Project to try and push that pain away.   

She looked over to that picture. Her, Natarle, Arnold, Dalida...

...and Mu.

The only one of the two of them together.

Murrue walked over to the window and slid it open. She looked over at the ocean, the waves shimmering in the moonlight, 
the sound of their crashing against the cliffside soft in the distance.

She missed Natarle. Even though she probably, definitely had orders to kill her on sight. She didn't hear the Dominion 
was lost at Jachin Due, so she presumed Natarle was alive. But so far away, not able to hear Murrue out... or yell at her, 
Murrue would be fine with that at this point. Murrue had a home, a new identity, something that resembled the future
...but not the one thing she wanted most of all. The first month was the hardest. She had nothing to do in her mind but sit at this window, 
watching Andrew and Aisha nursing each other back to health, despite their injuries, happy and loving each other. She even admitted to Aisha 
that she was jealous, but not angry at them. Eventually Erica was able to find her a position at Morgenrote, and now Murrue had been coping 
for the last few years the best way she knew how. Burying herself in work. Murrue looked up at the sky, and the moon, and the long field of 
stars, and then back into the room, at her large bed, that she slept in, alone. A kiss on the bridge, a kiss before his final take off... 
that was it. Mu was gone and she would never see him again. Just like everyone else in her life it seemed.


"Mu...you were supposed to make the impossible, possible...you were supposed..." Murrue wept, tears running down her cheeks again.

"...to come back."

</poem>