Mobile Suit Gundam Side Story 0079:
Shining Stars
By: Newtype Alpha And Double-Edge
Chapter 1: Rumors of War
--December 7, UC 0078--
"You are the first of the new generation of the master race of Zeon." The voice was hard and thunderous. "Your lives will change, but for the better. But be warned that there are those who wish to take this happiness from you. Are you going to let them take away your freedom, your independence from you?" The Sharpness of the question pierced the air. "NO SIR." The answer came as quick as it was given. Giren Zabi, in all this glory, was before a massive assembly of his soldiers.
It was enough to put tears in any Zeon Loyalist's eyes. For Miharu Ikari, it was quite an experience, to say the least. The first twenty minutes of it was impressive enough to psych up anyone, but after a while it became more of a chore listening to it. The Speech dragged on.
"We will bring to mankind a new golden age." His Voice boomed, "I truly hope that all of you will fight your best, ZEIG ZEON!" He help up his fist high in the air and the massive assembly chanted with him, "ZEIG ZEON! ZEIG ZEON!" He left the stage with a smile as the assembly applauded him.
It took a few minutes for the excitement to die down and for everyone to decide, "Well it's time to go." The side doors opened, it was as if they were like open jars of sand, people rushing out by the dozens. Miharu decided it was better staying, waiting for the line to disperse rather then push and probably kill someone to get out. "Hey there sunshine." A familiar voice came from behind. She knew who it was, Jaicent, the man who everyone knew was "Fond" of her. He gave a soft smile and stood beside her, she didn't even look at him. "So . . .um . . .what's up?" anyone can tell he was nervous. She knew too, but she didn't really seem to care, or at least show it. She simply nodded her head. He did his best to start a conversation, but she didn't really let him, evil it was. "Um.. well sorry if I bugged . . later." She nodded her head again, and he left as quickly as he came. She picked herself up and quietly left. Out through the door and into the corridor, she walked with a bad feeling. "Maybe I was a bit hard on him." Her conscience was bugging her.
*******************
--December 9, UC 0078--
Friday nights were the nights best remembered at Eric's Bar as "Fly Night." Every Friday at 9:00pm, 12 boisterous and jovial soldiers in Federal uniforms slunk into the bar, chased out all the sullen army grunts and took their place in the far corner booth next to a huge painting that depicted a dozen historical faces. Everyone knew who they were, the Marine Corp. pilots of Libra company with the Federation's 2nd fleet. These men walked tall and acted tough, but spoke softly and curtly, especially their wing commander Captain Norris Von Braun, a man who had expending a great deal of time and energy establishing his reputation of "Ultimate Badass".
That Friday, the Navy pilots occupied their booth the same way they had for 8 months since the start of Operation S3 and the naval embargo against Zeon shipping. They gathered under their precious painting like disciples under their gods; the painting that immortalized the "Red Barron" Manfred Von Rictoven, Rocket Man Chuck Yeager, and "Pennzoil 63" Kelk to name a few. All of the men in the painting had one thing in common: they were ace pilots of various wars, from the first two world wars, to Vietnam, to the Persian Gulf and beyond. The men of Libra Company followed that tradition to the letter, paying homage to the legendary aces and their accomplishments night after night with an obligatory round of scotch. And always, they would center around the only one among them to achieve the status of ace pilot: Norris Von Braun himself. But that Friday was a special occasion, one the others always enjoyed, and Captain Von Braun made the introductions as he always did; it was his right.
"Alright guys, it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for." The pilots of Libra Company leaned forward, giving the Captain their full attention. "Let me formally introduce the two replacements for Richie and Carl. Privates Pierce Rayer and Jackson Flores." The pilots hooted and cheered excitedly, and Norris waited for the noise to die down before going on. "Now we all know why they're here. Richie finally got promoted and he's got his own ship over at Luna-II, and Carl's wife is pregnant again so he's been put on leave. By the way, which one of you is the father this time?" All nine of the veteran Libras raised their hands, and Jack joined in a moment later.
"It might be me. Women cannot resist the Jack." He said.
The pilots patted the rookie on the back and laughed harder. "Even newbie had a turn! Poor Carl!"
Norris grinned and continued. "Anyway, these two green kids are fresh from the flight school at Jaburo, so it's a good bet they have no idea what's really going on out here."
Rayer sat up a bit. "It's just a naval blockade. Like the last one..."
"See what I mean?" Norris gestured to the Private, and the others nodded. "Okay guys, listen up. Operation S3 isn't anything like the bullshit they've been posting on CNN or the Federal Tribune. Turns out, the zeeks are doing some really nasty things inside their borders."
"Like what?"
"Commandant Gihren's latest speech about the beauty of the Zeon nation was basically strait out of Mien Kampf."
"Mien what?"
Jack shrugged. "It's a novel written by a dictator in the 20th century, correct?"
"Bingo. The author of that book went on to slaughter over 6 million people and conquer most of Europe, but from the look of things Gihren is picking a bigger target than just Jews and Gypsies."
"Like what?" Asked Rayer.
Norris thought about it for a moment before answering, "Well, pretty much everybody."
Jack laughed. "They'd be crazy to try it! There are more people in North America than all of Side 3!"
Lieutenant Grafton smirked. "That doesn't mean they won't try it."
"So what if they do? We slap them around little bitches and they run on home."
"Not that simple. Instead of really doing something about it, the damn bureaucrats decided to set up this little embargo around Zeon to try and convince them to behave, which of course they won't do. Basically, our mission here is to try and annoy them into backing down." Norris was a history buff, and he'd seen it countless times before in his studies of past democracies. "Embargo: the weapon of choice for the chicken-shit pencil pusher."
**********************
"Your suits are superior to any federal weaponry, fighters or ships." It was the usual lecture from her CO. Miharu herd a different version of this topic many different times, as it was already burned into her head. She sat down in the back of the room, waiting for something new to be brought up.
"But don't let that get to your head, or you'll end up dead. Mobile Suits are strong, not invincible." He looked straight at his team, the look was cold, serious, the kind someone would give when they would go out to battle knowing they would die. "I don't want any of you to go home in a box, I couldn't live that fact that one of my own died either." He was a perfectionist, which was common for any Zeon officer.
The brief room's lights turned down a bit as a projector in the back came to life. "This is the Zaku II, MS-06F. This will be your sword, you lifeline. Treat it as if it were you own child." The Projector's light hit the wall and appeared the picture of a humanoid robot. The group of people started to talk among themselves. This was the first time Miharu seen the model herself, it was by all means impressive. The CO smiled, "You are one of the first to use the Zaku, be grateful." He sat down at the chair in front of the room. "Everyone in this room graduated at the top three percent in their class in the academy. You deserve this opportunity." The projector turned off and the lights were turned on again. "That is all dismissed." He stood up and saluted. The Class stood up saluted back and started to exit the room.
Miharu was curious at the exact specs of the new weapon. So she waited for the rest of her comrades to leave before she made her move. She approached the CO quietly. "Major Schuffer, a moment sir?" The aged man looked down on her, "ahh Ikari is it?" He talked in a tactful way; different from anything Miharu thought he'd be like. "Yes, uhh.. Would it be possible if I could learn more about the new weapon." She talked in a straightforward way, as so not to sound like a child wanting a new toy. Schuffer let out a small grin, "And why is that?" He asked diligently. Miharu stood up straight, "No particular reason sir, just interested in it's operation and specifications. I basically want to know how it works." She gave a moment to catch her breath. "I would like to know what I am exactly using when I go out there." Schuffer narrowed his eyes. "I'm impressed by your curiosity, not very many people are as ambitious as you." He said jovially. "But can I trust you to keep this a secret? What I am about to do is illegal."
She thought about it. If she were caught with this information, especially because it was somewhat top-secret, she would be punished and probably tried as a spy. It would disgrace her whole family, not to mention ruin her life. But on the other hand learning about this was a once in a lifetime thing. Curiosity got her into trouble most of her life, but she was the curious type. "I'll keep it a secret sir." She said. He nodded his head and walked to the end of the room. A disk lay on top of the projector. He gently picked it up and gave it to Miharu. "I'm trusting you with this, don't let me down. I see good things coming from you." He crossed his arms, "Dismissed." Miharu saluted and left the room, satisfied.
********************
The talk of battle in Eric's Bar was making everyone feel brave and exited, and the feeling was picked up by most of the other patrons who entered as a general confidence in the strength of the Federal Forces, and an ever-renewed respect for the 12 Marine pilots. Even so, Private Jack Flores had a doubt. "Does our station here make things worse in some way? Are we giving them too much time to build their forces?"
Lieutenant Grafton started to answer, but Corporal Ulyn took control. "That might be the one good thing about this operation. By pressuring their economy, we've reduced the productivity of their ship yards. So we know we'll have the numerical advantage, and we also have superior equipment."
This caught Jack's attention. "We have better equipment? You certain of this?"
"Trust me rookie, we've seen the zeeks using some pretty crappy hardware lately. I don't think they could fight a war if they wanted to."
"What about the Zaku?"
The faces of the men all darkened. The rumors about the Zeon's new humanoid fighters were a cause for concern among all of them. Lieutenant Grafton's palms started to sweat. "Intelligence has promised us that the Zaku is more symbolic than functional and most of the officers around here agree with them. I mean it's kinda hokey in a way isn't it?"
Private Rayer nodded. "I thought so too. It's a bit hard to picture flying into battle against a squad of giant fighting robots."
Captain Norris sat down across from the rookies. "Yeah I know, it's a bit of a silly concept, corny in a way. But when you get past the idea of giant robots and hokey sci-fi flicks and really think about it, there's plenty to worry about."
Rayer rolled his eyes, but Jack leaned forward. "Like what?"
"First of all, they move just like humans do, which means their turn radius is a lot smaller they can do it without using verniers." Rayer sat up a bit. If this was true, he knew it meant that the mobile suits could be more maneuverable than their fighters. "Secondly, their smallest weapon is a 120mm cannon that can fire at full auto.
"120mm?! That's a tank gun sir!" Rayer yelped.
"That's right Private. And since they use arms and hands to aim the damn things, they don't even have to line up a shot. All they have to do is pick a target somewhere in front of them and blast away." Jack tried to imagine a single Zaku flying up to a moving warship, sliding sideways in space to avoid the point defense guns as it raked the ship's flanks with it's 120mm. Oddly enough, it wasn't hard to picture at all. "Thirdly," Norris continued, "We've been hearing rumors that the zeeks have developed a new Zaku model, and we THINK it might be nuclear capable."
"How do you know this?" Jack said, growing more nervous by the minute.
"Two months ago, White Fang squadron was sent to check on an explosion a few miles from the Zeon Granada base. There was a crater there that the zeeks say was from a meteor impact but..." Norris trailed off and looked over at White Fang's squad leader Sergeant Cromwell.
"But?"
Cromwell leaned forward and lowered his voice. "We spotted a mobile suit near the sight, carrying some kind of weapon on its shoulder that almost looked like a bazooka. Call me crazy, but I swear that thing was big enough to mount at least 3 tactical nukes."
Jack became very agitated. "You have told this to HQ?"
Norris took a sip of his scotch. "Of course we have, and they're not taking the Zakus seriously at all. But we've seen some strange things lately that suggest to us the Zeon knows exactly how lightly we're taking them. The last four sorties have been against some old run down zeek fighters, some of them strait from the scrap yard. I keep telling Admiral Dyson that the fighter units we've been engaging in the no-fly zone are just decoys, but he's be surprised that the zeeks even HAVE fighters."
Jack laughed. "From a man with such a low opinion of spacenoids, what do you expect?"
Captain Norris started to get the impression that these two new pilots were the perceptive type, which he hoped would carry through into actual combat. Situational awareness was what allowed a pilot to survive, and if these two had just an ounce of it they'd be fine. "Anyway, you two new guys will be assigned to White Fang Squadron for now. First thing tomorrow, I want you to head over to the airstrip and check out your planes, make sure they're all up to spec and what not." "Yes sir." They both said.
*******************
Miharu couldn't really sleep well that night. She lay awake in her bed, eyes open, gazing at the ceiling. So many thoughts ran in her head, it was surreal. She turned to her side and gazed at the clock in front of her. 2:34 AM flashed the red light in front of her. It was cold, she covered her body in her blanket, curled up. She was exited; in a few hours she would run her Zaku's first activation test. And since she knew more about the suit itself then most of her peers, she was aware of what it was capable of doing. It scared her. But being worried won't help her, it never did. She closed her eyes awaiting the dream or nightmare that awaited her.
******************
Jack had visions of his fighter in his mind, and decided then and there to sacrifice a few hours of sleep in order to view his new plane as soon as possible.
As the night wound down and the pilots headed back to their bunks in the main base, Jack took a slight detour and made his way to the main hangar set into the Cliffside next to the airstrip. He went down the row of planes one by one until he found the fighter that belonged to him, an FF-S3 Saberfish fresh off the assembly line. He stopped and stared at it with a childish awe for just a moment before he ran his fingers over the skin of the craft, exploring every weld, every bolt and seal. He could feel the tiny imperfections in the metal, and the changes in temperature where the fuel manifold for the verniers pressed against the airframe. This plane had a soul all its own, and Jack immediately found himself growing fond of this machine. "Bonita." He said, climbing into the cockpit. "You and I are going to have a good time." He leaned down and kissed the instrument panel, and the fighter's onboard computer came to life as if in gratitude. Jack smiled broadly and powered the machine back down.
In keeping with the old tradition adhered to by his family since Enrique Santana flew his P-38 Lighting over Tokyo in 1945, Jack spent that first night in the cockpit of his plane, dreaming of battles and victories that awaited him on the other side of the canopy. And then something unexpected crept into his mind; as he dreamed of victory over a Zeon fleet of rusty old fighters and poorly built cruisers, his dream suddenly became a nightmare when a lone Zaku appeared in front of him brandishing a large bazooka almost as big as his plane. The Zaku steadied itself, took aim at his cockpit, and fired its nuke strait at his head...
Shining Stars
By: Newtype Alpha And Double-Edge
Chapter 1: Rumors of War
--December 7, UC 0078--
"You are the first of the new generation of the master race of Zeon." The voice was hard and thunderous. "Your lives will change, but for the better. But be warned that there are those who wish to take this happiness from you. Are you going to let them take away your freedom, your independence from you?" The Sharpness of the question pierced the air. "NO SIR." The answer came as quick as it was given. Giren Zabi, in all this glory, was before a massive assembly of his soldiers.
It was enough to put tears in any Zeon Loyalist's eyes. For Miharu Ikari, it was quite an experience, to say the least. The first twenty minutes of it was impressive enough to psych up anyone, but after a while it became more of a chore listening to it. The Speech dragged on.
"We will bring to mankind a new golden age." His Voice boomed, "I truly hope that all of you will fight your best, ZEIG ZEON!" He help up his fist high in the air and the massive assembly chanted with him, "ZEIG ZEON! ZEIG ZEON!" He left the stage with a smile as the assembly applauded him.
It took a few minutes for the excitement to die down and for everyone to decide, "Well it's time to go." The side doors opened, it was as if they were like open jars of sand, people rushing out by the dozens. Miharu decided it was better staying, waiting for the line to disperse rather then push and probably kill someone to get out. "Hey there sunshine." A familiar voice came from behind. She knew who it was, Jaicent, the man who everyone knew was "Fond" of her. He gave a soft smile and stood beside her, she didn't even look at him. "So . . .um . . .what's up?" anyone can tell he was nervous. She knew too, but she didn't really seem to care, or at least show it. She simply nodded her head. He did his best to start a conversation, but she didn't really let him, evil it was. "Um.. well sorry if I bugged . . later." She nodded her head again, and he left as quickly as he came. She picked herself up and quietly left. Out through the door and into the corridor, she walked with a bad feeling. "Maybe I was a bit hard on him." Her conscience was bugging her.
*******************
--December 9, UC 0078--
Friday nights were the nights best remembered at Eric's Bar as "Fly Night." Every Friday at 9:00pm, 12 boisterous and jovial soldiers in Federal uniforms slunk into the bar, chased out all the sullen army grunts and took their place in the far corner booth next to a huge painting that depicted a dozen historical faces. Everyone knew who they were, the Marine Corp. pilots of Libra company with the Federation's 2nd fleet. These men walked tall and acted tough, but spoke softly and curtly, especially their wing commander Captain Norris Von Braun, a man who had expending a great deal of time and energy establishing his reputation of "Ultimate Badass".
That Friday, the Navy pilots occupied their booth the same way they had for 8 months since the start of Operation S3 and the naval embargo against Zeon shipping. They gathered under their precious painting like disciples under their gods; the painting that immortalized the "Red Barron" Manfred Von Rictoven, Rocket Man Chuck Yeager, and "Pennzoil 63" Kelk to name a few. All of the men in the painting had one thing in common: they were ace pilots of various wars, from the first two world wars, to Vietnam, to the Persian Gulf and beyond. The men of Libra Company followed that tradition to the letter, paying homage to the legendary aces and their accomplishments night after night with an obligatory round of scotch. And always, they would center around the only one among them to achieve the status of ace pilot: Norris Von Braun himself. But that Friday was a special occasion, one the others always enjoyed, and Captain Von Braun made the introductions as he always did; it was his right.
"Alright guys, it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for." The pilots of Libra Company leaned forward, giving the Captain their full attention. "Let me formally introduce the two replacements for Richie and Carl. Privates Pierce Rayer and Jackson Flores." The pilots hooted and cheered excitedly, and Norris waited for the noise to die down before going on. "Now we all know why they're here. Richie finally got promoted and he's got his own ship over at Luna-II, and Carl's wife is pregnant again so he's been put on leave. By the way, which one of you is the father this time?" All nine of the veteran Libras raised their hands, and Jack joined in a moment later.
"It might be me. Women cannot resist the Jack." He said.
The pilots patted the rookie on the back and laughed harder. "Even newbie had a turn! Poor Carl!"
Norris grinned and continued. "Anyway, these two green kids are fresh from the flight school at Jaburo, so it's a good bet they have no idea what's really going on out here."
Rayer sat up a bit. "It's just a naval blockade. Like the last one..."
"See what I mean?" Norris gestured to the Private, and the others nodded. "Okay guys, listen up. Operation S3 isn't anything like the bullshit they've been posting on CNN or the Federal Tribune. Turns out, the zeeks are doing some really nasty things inside their borders."
"Like what?"
"Commandant Gihren's latest speech about the beauty of the Zeon nation was basically strait out of Mien Kampf."
"Mien what?"
Jack shrugged. "It's a novel written by a dictator in the 20th century, correct?"
"Bingo. The author of that book went on to slaughter over 6 million people and conquer most of Europe, but from the look of things Gihren is picking a bigger target than just Jews and Gypsies."
"Like what?" Asked Rayer.
Norris thought about it for a moment before answering, "Well, pretty much everybody."
Jack laughed. "They'd be crazy to try it! There are more people in North America than all of Side 3!"
Lieutenant Grafton smirked. "That doesn't mean they won't try it."
"So what if they do? We slap them around little bitches and they run on home."
"Not that simple. Instead of really doing something about it, the damn bureaucrats decided to set up this little embargo around Zeon to try and convince them to behave, which of course they won't do. Basically, our mission here is to try and annoy them into backing down." Norris was a history buff, and he'd seen it countless times before in his studies of past democracies. "Embargo: the weapon of choice for the chicken-shit pencil pusher."
**********************
"Your suits are superior to any federal weaponry, fighters or ships." It was the usual lecture from her CO. Miharu herd a different version of this topic many different times, as it was already burned into her head. She sat down in the back of the room, waiting for something new to be brought up.
"But don't let that get to your head, or you'll end up dead. Mobile Suits are strong, not invincible." He looked straight at his team, the look was cold, serious, the kind someone would give when they would go out to battle knowing they would die. "I don't want any of you to go home in a box, I couldn't live that fact that one of my own died either." He was a perfectionist, which was common for any Zeon officer.
The brief room's lights turned down a bit as a projector in the back came to life. "This is the Zaku II, MS-06F. This will be your sword, you lifeline. Treat it as if it were you own child." The Projector's light hit the wall and appeared the picture of a humanoid robot. The group of people started to talk among themselves. This was the first time Miharu seen the model herself, it was by all means impressive. The CO smiled, "You are one of the first to use the Zaku, be grateful." He sat down at the chair in front of the room. "Everyone in this room graduated at the top three percent in their class in the academy. You deserve this opportunity." The projector turned off and the lights were turned on again. "That is all dismissed." He stood up and saluted. The Class stood up saluted back and started to exit the room.
Miharu was curious at the exact specs of the new weapon. So she waited for the rest of her comrades to leave before she made her move. She approached the CO quietly. "Major Schuffer, a moment sir?" The aged man looked down on her, "ahh Ikari is it?" He talked in a tactful way; different from anything Miharu thought he'd be like. "Yes, uhh.. Would it be possible if I could learn more about the new weapon." She talked in a straightforward way, as so not to sound like a child wanting a new toy. Schuffer let out a small grin, "And why is that?" He asked diligently. Miharu stood up straight, "No particular reason sir, just interested in it's operation and specifications. I basically want to know how it works." She gave a moment to catch her breath. "I would like to know what I am exactly using when I go out there." Schuffer narrowed his eyes. "I'm impressed by your curiosity, not very many people are as ambitious as you." He said jovially. "But can I trust you to keep this a secret? What I am about to do is illegal."
She thought about it. If she were caught with this information, especially because it was somewhat top-secret, she would be punished and probably tried as a spy. It would disgrace her whole family, not to mention ruin her life. But on the other hand learning about this was a once in a lifetime thing. Curiosity got her into trouble most of her life, but she was the curious type. "I'll keep it a secret sir." She said. He nodded his head and walked to the end of the room. A disk lay on top of the projector. He gently picked it up and gave it to Miharu. "I'm trusting you with this, don't let me down. I see good things coming from you." He crossed his arms, "Dismissed." Miharu saluted and left the room, satisfied.
********************
The talk of battle in Eric's Bar was making everyone feel brave and exited, and the feeling was picked up by most of the other patrons who entered as a general confidence in the strength of the Federal Forces, and an ever-renewed respect for the 12 Marine pilots. Even so, Private Jack Flores had a doubt. "Does our station here make things worse in some way? Are we giving them too much time to build their forces?"
Lieutenant Grafton started to answer, but Corporal Ulyn took control. "That might be the one good thing about this operation. By pressuring their economy, we've reduced the productivity of their ship yards. So we know we'll have the numerical advantage, and we also have superior equipment."
This caught Jack's attention. "We have better equipment? You certain of this?"
"Trust me rookie, we've seen the zeeks using some pretty crappy hardware lately. I don't think they could fight a war if they wanted to."
"What about the Zaku?"
The faces of the men all darkened. The rumors about the Zeon's new humanoid fighters were a cause for concern among all of them. Lieutenant Grafton's palms started to sweat. "Intelligence has promised us that the Zaku is more symbolic than functional and most of the officers around here agree with them. I mean it's kinda hokey in a way isn't it?"
Private Rayer nodded. "I thought so too. It's a bit hard to picture flying into battle against a squad of giant fighting robots."
Captain Norris sat down across from the rookies. "Yeah I know, it's a bit of a silly concept, corny in a way. But when you get past the idea of giant robots and hokey sci-fi flicks and really think about it, there's plenty to worry about."
Rayer rolled his eyes, but Jack leaned forward. "Like what?"
"First of all, they move just like humans do, which means their turn radius is a lot smaller they can do it without using verniers." Rayer sat up a bit. If this was true, he knew it meant that the mobile suits could be more maneuverable than their fighters. "Secondly, their smallest weapon is a 120mm cannon that can fire at full auto.
"120mm?! That's a tank gun sir!" Rayer yelped.
"That's right Private. And since they use arms and hands to aim the damn things, they don't even have to line up a shot. All they have to do is pick a target somewhere in front of them and blast away." Jack tried to imagine a single Zaku flying up to a moving warship, sliding sideways in space to avoid the point defense guns as it raked the ship's flanks with it's 120mm. Oddly enough, it wasn't hard to picture at all. "Thirdly," Norris continued, "We've been hearing rumors that the zeeks have developed a new Zaku model, and we THINK it might be nuclear capable."
"How do you know this?" Jack said, growing more nervous by the minute.
"Two months ago, White Fang squadron was sent to check on an explosion a few miles from the Zeon Granada base. There was a crater there that the zeeks say was from a meteor impact but..." Norris trailed off and looked over at White Fang's squad leader Sergeant Cromwell.
"But?"
Cromwell leaned forward and lowered his voice. "We spotted a mobile suit near the sight, carrying some kind of weapon on its shoulder that almost looked like a bazooka. Call me crazy, but I swear that thing was big enough to mount at least 3 tactical nukes."
Jack became very agitated. "You have told this to HQ?"
Norris took a sip of his scotch. "Of course we have, and they're not taking the Zakus seriously at all. But we've seen some strange things lately that suggest to us the Zeon knows exactly how lightly we're taking them. The last four sorties have been against some old run down zeek fighters, some of them strait from the scrap yard. I keep telling Admiral Dyson that the fighter units we've been engaging in the no-fly zone are just decoys, but he's be surprised that the zeeks even HAVE fighters."
Jack laughed. "From a man with such a low opinion of spacenoids, what do you expect?"
Captain Norris started to get the impression that these two new pilots were the perceptive type, which he hoped would carry through into actual combat. Situational awareness was what allowed a pilot to survive, and if these two had just an ounce of it they'd be fine. "Anyway, you two new guys will be assigned to White Fang Squadron for now. First thing tomorrow, I want you to head over to the airstrip and check out your planes, make sure they're all up to spec and what not." "Yes sir." They both said.
*******************
Miharu couldn't really sleep well that night. She lay awake in her bed, eyes open, gazing at the ceiling. So many thoughts ran in her head, it was surreal. She turned to her side and gazed at the clock in front of her. 2:34 AM flashed the red light in front of her. It was cold, she covered her body in her blanket, curled up. She was exited; in a few hours she would run her Zaku's first activation test. And since she knew more about the suit itself then most of her peers, she was aware of what it was capable of doing. It scared her. But being worried won't help her, it never did. She closed her eyes awaiting the dream or nightmare that awaited her.
******************
Jack had visions of his fighter in his mind, and decided then and there to sacrifice a few hours of sleep in order to view his new plane as soon as possible.
As the night wound down and the pilots headed back to their bunks in the main base, Jack took a slight detour and made his way to the main hangar set into the Cliffside next to the airstrip. He went down the row of planes one by one until he found the fighter that belonged to him, an FF-S3 Saberfish fresh off the assembly line. He stopped and stared at it with a childish awe for just a moment before he ran his fingers over the skin of the craft, exploring every weld, every bolt and seal. He could feel the tiny imperfections in the metal, and the changes in temperature where the fuel manifold for the verniers pressed against the airframe. This plane had a soul all its own, and Jack immediately found himself growing fond of this machine. "Bonita." He said, climbing into the cockpit. "You and I are going to have a good time." He leaned down and kissed the instrument panel, and the fighter's onboard computer came to life as if in gratitude. Jack smiled broadly and powered the machine back down.
In keeping with the old tradition adhered to by his family since Enrique Santana flew his P-38 Lighting over Tokyo in 1945, Jack spent that first night in the cockpit of his plane, dreaming of battles and victories that awaited him on the other side of the canopy. And then something unexpected crept into his mind; as he dreamed of victory over a Zeon fleet of rusty old fighters and poorly built cruisers, his dream suddenly became a nightmare when a lone Zaku appeared in front of him brandishing a large bazooka almost as big as his plane. The Zaku steadied itself, took aim at his cockpit, and fired its nuke strait at his head...