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{{Log |cast=Setsuna F. Seiei, Marina Ismail |location=Royal Palace of Azadistan |summary=Schemes and plots had collided in Azadistan, upending the entire country with violence. The brand-new power plant--and the modernist movement that had bargained for it--had been elevated to so much ash and vapor, leaving Azadistan indebted a king's random to the AEU. Princess Ascendant Marina Ismail, too, was nearly a casualty, but for the armed intervention of Celestial Being, who gave her enough time to escape. Conservative commonfolk had lost Imam Rachmadi, their guiding light, and steadily distanced themselves from both the motionless politicians and the overeager terrorists. But maybe there could still be a glimmer of hope and stability, buried beneath the ashes of a scorched nation... }} <Pose Tracker> Marina Ismail has posed. <poem> Despite the daytime heat, the nights in Azadistan are cold. And the nights in Azadistan had been colder than ever for Princess Marina Ismail since Rasa Massoud Rachmadi had disappeared--had been kidnapped--amidst a bloody coup. Azadistan's royal guards, and humanitarian peacekeeping forces had managed--barely--to keep the bulk of the fighting away from the capital's commercial district and the palace grounds. Still, Marina had not been permitted even onto her balcony in weeks. Nasrin had finally been transferred from the ICU--she'd survived the collapse of the power facility. Barely, but thanks to a scissor-clamped Haro and an aid worker that had stabilized her in time, she would survive. In most of one piece, anyway. In her absence, and unable to properly vet additional personnel, Bahar and Shirin had been working doubleshifts. The morning came slowly, groggily, sleep coming entangled with nightmares of explosions, rubble, assassins, and worst--the ruins of her country. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Setsuna F. Seiei has posed. <poem> Gundam is not a weapon of war, or at the very least, Setsuna doesn't believe so. It's an icon, something to believe in. A messenger of peace. And yet, several people he's clashed swords with have told him otherwise. That the only thing Gundams are good at are bringing ruin and war. As much as he'd like to argue, he cannot ignore the genuinely awful things people have used the name 'Gundam' for. While he could simply explain why this is not the fault of Gundam, actions speak louder than words. People need something to believe in, an event and gesture that gives him hope. For that, he only just needs to... A Gundam descends from the sky right down next to the palace, its feet lightly touching the ground as the barely audible whirring of the GN Drive on its back halts. It's a Celestial Being Gundam, it's obvious on first glance, and even more obvious as it's almost instantly ID'd, given its active deployment in various war zones. It's a machine made for war, and yet today, it arrives essentially naked. The large sword attached to its arms, the twin blades holstered on its hips, and even the beam sabers holstered on its skirts, all seemingly left behind. Taking a moment to observe, it then walks slowly, one step at a time, towards the balcony of the building. There's no announcement from the mobile suit's pilot as it does so, no demands or threats, just the sound of methodical steps as it makes its way to its target. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Marina Ismail has posed. <poem> Marina sat in her chambers, her haleem growing cold... The elaborate spread of jams lay untouched. It wasn't right, to be so downcast, but it was hard to feel anything but helpless. There were reports of major clashes, Gundams deployed, and the fighting had died down, but her country was still a smoldering wreckage, and she was forbidden from raising her own two hands to help them. What else was she here for? A figurehead... This was no way to lead a united Azadistan into the future. Her reverie was interrupted by raid sirens and a storm of footfalls past her door. No one entered. It wasn't until she tried to exit into the corridor that she was hastily pushed back into the room with a grunt from Bahar, who led her to the inner door and the direct path to the shelter. "Bahar? What is going on? Where are you--" Outside, the Azadistani military was in a rapid muster. A squad of Fantong mobile weapons rushed into formation in front of the Exia, flanked by a variety of tanks, all painted with the markup of the Royal Guard. "ATTENTION. CELESTIAL BEING GUNDAM. CEASE MOVEMENT AND SURRENDER," a bullhorn called out. One more step, and a battalion of cannons swiveled to proper aim. One more step, and, a dozen fingers hovered over their triggers. Those hands shook--they knew what such a Gundam could do, has done--but after all the chaos unfolding, they would die before they stood aside. One more step, and it all started with the boom of a HEAP shell, dead center, a deadly hit by any reasonable means against ground armor, but against a Celestial Being Gundam? The anti-aircraft tanks and Fantong suits joined in, and shells of all caliber assaulted the Exia. None were individually capable of breaching that armor. "STAND DOWN! THIS WILL BE CONSIDERED AN ACT OF WAR." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Setsuna F. Seiei has posed. <poem> Setsuna, and by extension, the Exia, pause only briefly at the warning. He has no desire to turn himself in, but neither does he wish to fight his way through the defense force here... There's only one solution, and after mentally apologizing to his passenger, he pushes the control stick in his cockpit forward. With that action, the Gundam ignores the warnings hurled at it, instead carefully stepping over the feeble blockade as it inches ever closer to the palace. While it would be easy to kick them out of the way, or to simply fly over them, that isn't the point of what he's doing. If he does things the easy way, what he's trying to convey means nothing. No. This is how it has to be done, and if he and the Exia have to bear scars for it, so be it. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Marina Ismail has posed. <poem> As Bahar ushers her toward the scram passage, Marina catches some of the comm chatter from his radio, distinguishing the words 'Celestial' and 'Gundam'. And so the memory comes easily. > "I'm still fighting. Even now." Yes, she remembers the fear she felt in that moment, the panic of wondering if she were next... but it would have been easy, had she been. Had Kamal--no, Setsuna, his name was--had he meant to punish her for her country's sins in Krugis, surely, she would already... Her heart rate was increasing, and without breakfast or sleep, she could hardly manage it, and leaned against Bahar's arm. The reverberations of autocannon fire rose up, and Marina, too, rose up. This was her country to save. And if that boy was willing to talk to her, in all her ignorance, then maybe now... "Bahar. To my side. Please." Though her voice was no louder than it ever way, there was something unyielding in those words, and her security escort followed in her wake, as she walked to the balcony doors. "Princess, it's not safe--" Unlocking, pushing those doors open, feeling the arid zephyr greet her. Met, too, with a Gundam's deliberate footsteps, an unusual tenderness in its decisions. She's seen that sort of nervous caution before, but where? "Make them stop shooting, Bahar." Oh. It was her own feet. That was the way you walk carefully, when around a child's toys. "Make them stop," she repeated to her escort, as Shirin ran breathless into the room. "Hold fire, please." It took several long seconds, an eternity of time, for those triggers to be released. One Fantong stepped in front of the Exia, ready to lay down a life, but the guns had been silenced. Was it the right call? After the decibels of combat faded, all that was left was the footfalls of the Gundam, matched by those of Marina Ismail, stepping out onto the balcony. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Setsuna F. Seiei has posed. <poem> Gunfire and cannon fire mark the Exia, whose armor holds intact, but is now covered in superficial damage. So long as what's on the inside is protected, though, it doesn't matter. Even though Setsuna is determined to continue weathering through the worst of it, the assault eventually stops, and the mobile suit finally reaches the Palace, where it immediately kneels. There's another pause as the mobile suit just stands there, glowing green eyes seemingly staring down at everyone gathered, before the tense silence is suddenly cut by the sound of its cockpit opening, depressurizing, and extending a walkway. Surprisingly, the person to leave the mobile suit isn't an armed terrorist, but instead Rachmadi, who quietly steps part way across the path leading towards the balcony. He's joined by what can only be assumed to be the pilot moments later, a surprisingly short individual whose identity is completely obscured by their pilot suit. "That was not the most comfortable of rides." "I apologize." "...No, I should thank you." "Please hurry." They share a brief exchange, one that doesn't seem like much, but it's useful for Marina. Not because it gives context, but because of the voice of the pilot. It's the Kurdish boy she bumped into not that long ago. There's no mistaking it. Not that she has much time to say anything, Rachmadi immediately crosses onto the balcony and is surrounded by guards, and Setsuna begins climbing back into the cockpit of his suit, though not before turning his head slightly to say something. "What you do next will determine if Celestial Being intervenes here... Until then, continue to fight for the God you believe in, and I'll do the same." It's a warning of sorts, that's the easiest way to parse it. Though the bit added to the end is a lot less so. Perhaps it's because that even if their methodologies differ, they both want the same thing. Peace. Maybe the Gundam Meister, knowing that they will never agree, and that he's too far gone, still admires and wishes them the best. Whatever he meant, he frustratingly doesn't say. He doesn't say a lot of things in general. But he's gone. Climbed back into the safety of the Exia, which, after proudly standing back up, ascends back into the sky and off into the distance. </poem>