AN: The second chapter in Residual Impact and presumably the final chapter , nothing really more to say then that except I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I still regretfully have no rights nor ownership in relation to Gundam
February 24th, 0089
Varanasi, Indian Province, Earth
Durga Mandir Temple
1200 Hours
This entire thing from its coloring, to its make was an offense to her senses. Its dull reddish coloring. 'The color of ancient mud and blood.' The steeped roofs, the bounding halls, it was all designed to give a sense of grandness, but to who or what? The ruler that had ordered this abomination created centuries ago? Whose very bones were now undoubtedly dust? To a dying faith? It posed a significant assassination hazard as well due to the sheer vastness of the corridors, halls and open courtyards as well, one could reasonably hide an entire Feddie infantry division in there and still have room for armored support, it was also located far too close to the bounds of the center of the city, and that just set her on edge to begin with.
No she didn't care for this situation one bit.
This of course wasn't aided by the fact they had been kept waiting for the prior three hours, told to wait in a courtyard for the arrival of the man they were to meet. Her Naban pistol shifted within its holster she crossed her arms underneath her overcoat. It made sense she supposed to bring backup to a meeting like this, anything could go wrong but all this waiting was just putting her further on edge. It just kept building and building within her until finally with a short exhale through her petite nose she turned to the man sharing the bench with venom dripping from every word she spoke.
"How long are we meant to be kept waiting?" She hissed to her companion. It was one thing to travel across the bounds of the Earth being pursued and combated by the Federation every step of the way but it was quite another to be forced into a stationary location for overly long. They had traveled from Adyar along the river as long as their money and mobile suits had allowed before relenting to the fact that it would neither be cost nor time effective when a summons such as this was given. So they had come and while they had maintained their mobile suits as well as they could, not a single one was worthy of anything resembling extended combat, so this offer of tentative support was something of a blessing she supposed.
"As long as we need to." He gruffly shot back earning him a steely glare. They needed this she knew, but all the same it reeked of ambush to her senses, they were desperate and depleted and that would make them blind to danger, render them stupid to the obvious. Not her, be it her paranoia or her intense distrust of any Earthnoid it mattered no, she wasn't a fan of this course of action but she was outranked in this matter, both in terms of actual rank and numbers. The survivors that had come to India had no where left to them to run. So the course was set, this offer of alliance, of assistance, of both materials and equipment to continue the fight would be accepted, would be pursued no matter what she believed, insisted or demanded to the contrary.
Her fellows in the remnants would place their faith in this "Garvey" man none of them had ever even met and she would merely have to hope for the best. Perhaps all would go well, perhaps she would be proven wrong but until that instance, she would be on her guard.
"I still think this was a mistake." She offered glumly as her eyes continued to scan the thick throngs of would be worshipers for their contact.
"We have no choice, you know that." He offered grimly, his tone reflective of just how he felt on the matter. She supposed she understood where he was coming from, it was either this or they continued to run, hide and flee across the Earth until they were eventually pinned down and killed. So no matter the cost, no no matter what this man may want from them in return...they would be forced to pay it.
'If it proves genuine anyway.' She internally added. The politics of Earth were not what they were, in the aftermath of the One Year War, many factions within the Federation had chafed under the intense scrutiny of the paramilitary organizations that had formed in the aftermath of the original conflict between space and Earth. She didn't bother to keep her ear to the ground overly but she knew of a handful of resistance movements located upon Earth that had opposed the Titans and their ilk prior to the arrival of the Neo Zeon forces of Axis. She supposed that not all of them would be happy with the continuation of Federal control, but to support Zeon? Now that was truly an interesting conclusion to arrive to, especially given the break down of the alliance between the Anti Earth Union Group and Haman Karn's Zeon forces that had erupted into a full scale war of domination across the Earth merely months ago.
'No doubt we are just a cat's paw in whatever scheme this entails.' They would be treated as a sword, a cheap blade to employ and then cast aside when it was no longer needed. But hopefully in the interim of that they could gain what they needed and for the first time in months finally stop running, to resume the fight in all earnestness against the Federation, that was why she had come here. That was why she was willing to tolerate the long trek to this gaudy temple half way across the country. They would not see the revival of Zeon, she knew that, they could not rebuild what had been torn down by the Federation, they could not rebirth the dead into the world to take up their former stations in life. This would serve nothing save to slake their own blood lust.
Yet if this proved genuine, if this man could deliver what he had spoken of during his communication to the commander...perhaps they could achieve that. Perhaps she could find a nice mound of Federation corpses to collapse upon at the end of her own brief existence. After she made them corpses obviously.
As her eyes continued to pick people out through the throng of the crowd that were making their way into the temple proper she couldn't help but notice one that stood out. His dress for one thing struck her as out of place in a region such as this, a place such as this...I mean honestly who wore a suit, a white one no less to a temple such as this? What also stood out to her eyes were the other men that proceeded along with him. In tandem, ordered movements. Professional. They were soldiers, the bulges in their coats merely confirmed that, not that she had expected a man like this to meet with a bunch of Zeon without some form of protection,the protective detail however changed nothing. It made her mind buzz of thoughts of potential betrayal, of having to shoot their way out of this if things went sour but there was no hope for it. She merely had her role in this, she had to keep the commander breathing. Nothing else mattered, even if she perished in the attempt of that, it would change utterly little, this was perhaps their final chance at reversing their fortune. None the less she elbowed her compatriot in the side gently, it wouldn't do to make this any more obvious then it had to be.
The man they had been waiting for had arrived.
She could only hope Kirks would get what they needed out of this meeting.
February 24th, 0089
Varanasi, Indian Province, Earth
Durga Mandir Temple, Sanctorum
1300 Hours
She gave nothing save a polite and short greeting of the man along with a small bow of the head in recognition of his station when Kirks had introduced her as his 'bodyguard' and neither had the man they were to meet given her nothing save a rather bland and disinterested glance to begin with. At first there had been something perhaps a flicker of a recognition, but it was immediately pushed beneath the controlled veneer of impassivity. Perhaps she recognized that from her own rather unique genealogy she wasn't inherently native to the old Principality, or perhaps she caught him off guard by merely being a female in the garb of a soldier such as it was. Yet all the same there was no hostility in the gaze yet there was no compassion, no humility or earnest emotion within it either. She could tell off the bat that this man was one ruled by his own set of conduct, his own method of doing things. She could respect that, even if he found the concept of such a thin, scrawny looking woman being bodyguard of a man of Kirks's rather impressive stature and physique laughable.
This Mahdi Garvey, this head of the Garvey Enterprises, a tycoon who ran a mega corp that could rival even Anaheim had drawn them out of hiding with an offer of support and here they were. Located at the top of the circular rise in the temple, this 'Sanctorum' was apparently were the deity below was worshiped, as it stood the room above the place of worship was just a convenient meeting spot. A small table a handful of chairs had been casually arranged in the room prior to their arrival but all the same she like Madhi's own men merely kept to their feet, ready to defender their respective 'masters'. Both from outside interference and intrusion and of course...each other.
She expected betrayal here, she expected nothing save attempts at absolute destruction from Earthnoids, had come to expect nothing less then that. Yet all the same the meeting preceded cordially if not utterly predictably. Kirks knew the position they were in, Madhi knew it and there was no sense even hiding it. They had a scarce handful of suits, limited ammunition, transportation, and no prospects of ever recovering from this turn of course. Madhi would exploit that, it was expected. He promised them the backing of his production centers, additional support from Zeon forces still waging the war back up in space, all for the low, low cost of acting as his personal battering ram against the Federation. That was something she hadn't truly expected, she had thought the man initially to be an ideologue, some disenfranchised Federal citizen, perhaps a power hungry business magnet who wanted a private army of mobile suits on call but no.
His hatred for the Federation was laid bare in his method of speech, his contempt for its peoples, its laws, its culture, its entire existence. It was to be quite frank refreshing. For a time she had thought that all beneath the banner of the Federation were blind to its less then savory aspects, its corruptions, and vile practices but no if this man was any representative then there were those even on Earth that found the Federation repugnant.
"The terms are straightforward and I have precious little time to waste, do we have an accord?" His voice rolled across the circular chamber like freshly spun silk, his eyes squaring down solely upon Kirks whom looked like he had about had enough. The terms were generous she could grant Madhi that, for the first time in months they would have access to proper materials to repair their mobile suits, freshly forged ammunition, perhaps if they could link up with one of the splinters of Haman's Neo Zeon still operating in the Earth Sphere they could even get their hands on newly produced mobile suits. Yet all the same, they were humiliating for a soldier, she understood that they had all cast off their pride, to fight as they did against a foe they could never hope to defeat? You needed no pride to do that, merely the dedication to the cause to fight a never ending war.
"Yes, we are in agreement Mr. Garvey." Kirks offered a faint hint of a smile as he outstretched his hand across the table, Madhi for his part inspected the proffered hand with the same interest one may apply to observation of a diseased rodent, with about as much interesting in touching it.
"Good, now I am to return to Dubai and begin preparations for the first leg of our partnership, a test run I suppose one could say. I will provide you with what you will need be it in arms and information and in turn you will destroy whatever I deem worthy of destruction. Bloody the Federation well and we shall precede from there." He stated as he rose from the chair already apparently done with the meeting. Kirks rose slowly before giving the man a slight bow of the head in acknowledgement of respect, and she did the same yet her hand never left the hem of her overcoat, she could get into the interior and free her gun within the space of a few seconds, and be firing mere seconds later.
Combat after all was a combination of skill, preparation and the mentality of one willing to kill. She would never lack for any of those.
As the last of Garvey's men filed out of the room Kirks let out a weary breath and gave her a faint smile before ruefully shaking his own head.
Their meeting had gone well, they now had the support of one of the Federation's most wealthy and influential private interests, and with their help no doubt war would again be coming to the Federation in relatively short order.
She couldn't wait.
That was how five months passed. Five months of being supplied weapons and materials to wage their war against select Federation targets, five months of slaughtering the peoples and soldiers of the Federation. From trading hubs to military bases, cities and townships to commercial businesses. They put them all to torch under the direction of Garvey. Yet for every success they had things seemingly grew more strained between them and business magnet, she knew not the full story but from scant rumor and hearsay she had picked up that he was under increasing amounts of suspicion for harboring links to "Zeon terrorists". Yet for all the accusations he continued to supply them so they continued to serve.
Their relation was one of mutual self interest and it was that collective greed that kept both parties loyal.
Yet it wouldn't keep the Federation off their backs. Eventually this house of cards would come crumbling down and they would once again be cast to the wind should they survive the initial chaos. But that was their life now, they had been reduced to a wandering force, a band of soldiers with nothing, no homeland, no cause, no reason to exist beyond eking out a petty revenge against the Federation for a war now long over.
Yet even more then the pressures being placed upon their employer she learned of something she had been unaware of for far too long in those five months. The news was distressing yet even more then that it was sigil of her resolve. She would never stop, never forgive, never forget. The Federation would burn for what it had done to her and the people of Zeon, for what it had done to the Captain.
May 19th, 0089
Attapeu, Laos, Earth
1500 Hours
She often frequented sites like this when she had the pleasure of a computer that was not attached to her mobile suit like this, private or pirated severs ran Zeon propagandist sites based out in remote locations that the Federation would likely never stumble upon. It was if one stepped into a time capsule. The old anthem of the Principality played through the cheap plastic speakers, the bright red, white and black of the flag hung in the background. She half expected to hear a speech from Gihren play, as if it was merely a prelude to yet another one of his speeches. The man had been a hell of an orator but she had would be honest in admitting that they tended to drag on a bit yet all the same she'd give up her Zaku if she could only hear his words one more time in person.
Most of these sites dated back to those days shortly after the One Year War when most had no idea just had no idea what had befallen comrades, family, lovers. So many had died in the course of just a few days the military registries and databases simply couldn't keep up. Thousands had died in those few brief days, many more had vanished in the chaos and with the change in government scarce few bothered to honor those who had fought for the prior regime. So sites such as these could very well have been only the listing of such things outside the Federation archives or some dark forgotten basement in the old ministry of war back in Zum City.
She looked at the profiles, several had been added by those such as her in the aftermath of Stardust to chronicle the loss of so many that had flocked to Delaz's banner. The admiral himself was entered into it mere days after the event and his death confirmed, his stark hawkish features and keen eyes stared piercingly at her even through the poor resolution of the monitor. Undoubtedly more had been added in the aftermath of the new war, after all Neo Zeon had not boasted of so many that its ranks could not be properly accounted for and that was why she came.
Whenever she could, whenever she could spare the moment or time to potentially invite the trauma that she knew awaited her upon finding such news would bring.
The folder for Neo Zeon pilots was surprisingly slim apparently only a handful had been worthy of their own mention on separate profiles the rest were consigned to the same simple memorial listing that had been ongoing since the days after the Zeon War of Independence. She recognized a handful of names that adorned it but not many. Haman Karn was obviously the most prominent listing on the entry yet she continued to scroll through the loss record she found a name that had been absent mere months ago yet had apparently been added in.
Dieter Kries.
Instantly she found her finger slamming upon the mouse jerking it towards the profile and repeatedly slamming down on the triggers. Cursing aloud as the slow connection processed she found her thoughts raging. She had been dreading this, expecting this, yet she had never wanted this. Never wanted this to happen again, to have another life stolen away from her, to have one of the few people who had ever reached out and attempted to interpose himself in her life. Not with unwanted sexual advances or lust, not with jealousy born of the encouraged rivalry within the Academy, he was...unique.
Dieter Florian Kries
Service Rank: Captain
Mobile Suit Squadron Commander
Commander of Task Force: Sword Fish
Zeonic Group Affiliation: Principality Of Zeon/Grand Duchy of Zeon(Formerly) UC 0070 - UC 0079
Zeon Forces of Axis (Formerly Under Haman Karn ) Reconstituted into Neo Zeon
Neo Zeon (Under Haman Karn)
DOB: June 19th, 0054 UC
DOD: January 19th, 0089
Age at death: 35
Cause of death: KIA/Killed In action
The familiar sight of his image burned itself into her retina as she saw the profile come up listing off his various ranks and branches of service, missions he had partook in; yet there it was. Despite all his skill, despite all of his strength and reserve even he had apparently fallen, the date of his death matched up with many of the numerous new entries, the final battle of the Neo Zeon War. The fall of Haman Karn, the defeat of Axis.
Her memories drifted and despite herself she felt moisture beading at her eyes only for her to hurriedly wipe it away.
Words spoken a decade prior echoed through her ears, words of wisdom that would apply to this very scenario. "The first, harshest test of leadership is to watch one of your subordinates die in front of you and not let that get to you. I've gone through it, Vice Admiral Dozle went through it, and you'll go through it one day." How was she to apply that here though? How was she expected to not feel anything? It was just another confirmation she did not need, the Federation would rip everything it could from her, it would likely even came her life in the end...Was this what awaited her? To be a little name or profile on some shadow net site ran out of a shoal zone or pirated across the Federation? Was this her future? To be some placard on a wall of 'fallen heroes to the cause' the mere notion caused her to let out a hacking sob of laughter even as the tears continued to stream down her face in unabating waves.
June 19th, 0054 UC-January 17th, 0089 UC. She knew he was young but to die before he even reached her parents age before death? War cared not she knew it came for all in leaping bounds no matter age, nor gender or affiliation it would claim anyone and everyone it could. This meant nothing, was nothing, now with him gone, with all possibility of future interaction, of future distraction she could resume as she had prior to meeting him all those years before. She would care only for herself, love only herself, fight for only herself.
The dead do not care for the what the living do.
Yet even as her bare fist smashed into monitor easily piercing into the internals of the cheap plastic and glass, feeling it cut and bite into her bare skin she retracted it pulling it free of the sparking and crackling screen. Ignoring the thin streams of red that dripped downward from her hand as she stood upward. She knew what she should do, how she should react but she couldn't stop crying. It was pathetic, she knew even he would deride her for that, would mock her commitment to the goal of Zeon, to claiming retribution for her parents. For him.
That aching wound that had erupted within her chest could not be stilled or silenced though so as she slipped downward to the floor of the cheap motel room that she had been assigned she could help but allow the tears to continue to fall. Tomorrow she reasoned, bargained internally, tomorrow she could put this ghost to rest for good, allow it to drift into the memories of past that she never allowed herself to delve into.
June 14th, 0089
Azerbaijan, Masally, Earth
MS-06FZ Zaku II
0900 Hours
Her machine gun did not stop firing until the entire magazine of 90mm had completely been cycled and ran through its overheating barrel. Streams of mist and vapor poured off the weapon in the chilled rain fall. The target of her aggression, of her fury crumbled downward; despite its thick armoring its once smoothed and pristine body impacted the broken and chipped concrete bellow in multiple pieces. Artificial limbs and manipulators crashed down alongside the downed GM III. 'Bastard thought he was clever hiding in the rubble of the target...' He had been mistaken to reveal himself to her though, he could have rode out this assault, survived this battle and now he wouldn't.
Ejecting the spent magazine from her 90mm machine came like clockwork precision as the emptied drum fell to the street below only to be switched out for a filled replacement. The drifting smoke and smoldering flame that came forth from the target was still visible in the rear monitor even as her machine turned about and began marching towards the secondary target area. The once proud spire, symbol of the Federation's wealth and prosperity down here on Earth had come crashing down courtesy of three armor piercing missiles she had on her Zaku's left leg thruster pod. It had been a fitting target she had reasoned, an administration office assigned to Earth borne military to monitor and react to situations in the Caucus and South East Asia. 'Though the buried GM had been a surprise...' She had not been expecting any resistance beyond the token handful of mobile suits she and the rest of the squadron had encountered. This depot town was supposed to be heavily undermanned, practically deserted was the wording Garvey had used. All the same though she still had to complete the rest of her portion of the mission and then they could finally get out from the thumb of Garvey. One final favor for a favor. Perhaps only she had grown sick of this arrangement perhaps Kirks and the others thought nothing of it, were content as along as they had a opponent in the Federation and the means to fight it but she could no longer stomach it.
This was never going to bring the Federation down, they were at best minor annoyances to it, inconveniences. They lacked the means and manpower to mount a proper offensive, a proper war.
After this they could be free of him, free of the petty chains of hatred that anchored them to him. No matter his history with Zeon, no matter how storied their own partnership was...at the end of the day he had his own objectives, his own goals and they were not their own. She would not be the instrument of some petty religious dispute between one man and the Federation.
As her Zaku continued forward through the winding narrow streets of the township her view of the upcoming right turnoff was blocked by a fairly sizable office tower that placed along the siding of the road. It was one of the few structures that actually measured above just a few stories instead it was nearly twice the size if not more then most surrounding buildings. If she had to hazard a guess she'd put the paned glass structure at around perhaps eight or more flights nearly twice the size of her own Zaku.
That was why she hadn't seen it coming, that was why it was only a sudden sensor warning that alerted on the passive radar that the incoming GM was charging her way. It was only by that metric that her aging machine and herself avoided doom. The beam saber snapped into existence as the tightly clung and energized particles ate through the corner space around the corner of the building scarcely avoiding her mounted main camera as she worked the sticks scrambling back forcing the machine to withdraw step after step, the attacker did not let up though. Breaking from the cover of the building it rushed forward as quickly as its bipedal locomotion would allow it to. Her machine gun was already raised, already firing as it as bum rushed her yet as the rounds sank into the suit it continually shrugged them off even as the ammunition counter was running dry, even after several repeat torso hits, the charge did not cease and then it was upon her.
Firing off her leg mounted anti mobile suit missiles from the battery was too little too late and she already knew it even as they flew past the target due to her having little to no time to actually properly angle the suit to fire and hit a rapidly moving target like another mobile suit. Yet this was all she could, she would not die this way, she would fight and struggle and survive again and again. Yet as the beam saber came towards her once more, she knew that she had no method of countering such a destructive melee tool, not with a rifle, not without having her own heat hawk at the ready yet it would take far too long to actually draw and ready the weapon for it to be any sort of use here.
She was stuck, she had been caught flat footed and it would cost her, her life.
'Such is war...' That thought came to her as the beam saber decapitated her Zaku. Severing its main camera from torso, casting her cockpit into static ridden darkness as its power feedings and couplings were bisected and burnt out. Controls went slack as the machine became unresponsive as circuits overloaded and motors on the aging decade old machine finally gave out. She could not defend herself, she could not even see the final blow coming, it was a dreadful way to die she knew yet it would not be her end.
Neither she nor the pilot of the GM II had saw what was approaching them down the main road from the rear, neither she nor the GM pilot had noticed that a Dom had broken through from the other section of the town having already completed its own assigned task of destruction neither she nor the GM pilot were aware that in just a few brief minutes this newly arrived machine would change everything.
June 29th, 0089
Beirut , Lebanon, Asia Territories, Earth
Port of Beirut, Garvey Enterprises Deep Ocean Hauler: GE 109
1900 Hours
"Who are we waiting for? Zimmerman?" Kirks questioned the assembly within the tanker hold, the long expanded space that was designed to hold large amounts of cargo had become the would be meeting ground for this assembly of the Zeon remnants based upon Earth and Garvey himself along with...a sponsor he had been unwilling to name in prior communications. They had simply been informed to arrive here, today, a few hours beforehand. It had been a hectic period over the past few weeks in the aftermath of the raid on Masally. That entire operation, its results and aftermath had apparently resulted in this.
It had irritated whomever was holding Garvey's leash, his proper master enough for them to deem coming down to Earth worth the potential risk just to insure investments. That was just her take on it, one did not arrange meetings like this if they were pleased with results, no if that had been the case then a simple phone call or another sort of ranged communication would have sufficed.
Yet perhaps the oddest measure requested of them had been to provide armed security and protection against potential intrusion and threats against the meeting. It wasn't until they had arrived had she understood the request, Garvey had brought his family to this meeting, it was insanity. Why would he drag his child, his wife into such a potential risk? Yet again however this question could be easily answered by her own musings, although not anywhere near guaranteed to be accurate she would assume this to be the case.
Once again the person above Garvey had requested it, perhaps to indicate just how seriously the business magnate should take this meeting, indeed and Garvey's own request at their protection of the meeting would come as no shock then. It obvious that he did not trust this meeting to end peacefully, did not expect it to end peacefully, he wanted assurances of his own and his family's safety. Though it was obvious he had never desire to test the boundaries of whom at the start of any confrontation would they be loyal to. While they had never met the sponsor it was obvious they were Zeon, no one else could have supplied Garvey with as much equipment and information on Federation targets, it was blindingly obvious.
Yet this petty deception aside, she did not wish harm to come to Garvey, she merely wanted him out of her life, out of their lives. She wanted to resume her own war against the Federation, she did not want to be bound to his cause for eternity and perhaps this meeting would provide her an out.
That was what found her, on this day, in this dank tanker hold that stank of rust and piss. Surrounded by armed men, the dim and dull lighting of the tanker itself provided a sober if somewhat off putting atmosphere for the meeting but it would also provide some measure of security given that any sort of surveillance would be able to penetrate the thick and strong metal of the various decks and holds of the tanker that laid above them. Yes it made sense to do this at the recesses, at the very bowels of the ship, it would be as safe as could be...at the very least from the Federation.
Whomever they were to meet here could obviously be a different story.
"I despise having to come down here personally Garvey." That voice.
The voice she heard could not be real, it could not be a reflection of the state of reality, that voice belonged to a dead man, a man whom she had been informed had died months ago.
As the figure who bore the voice that could not be real descended down the runged flight of stairs into the meeting place she noted the appearance of the man. He was dressed well, civilian finery, a well cut suit, tie, dress shoes, ironed shirt. He looked the part of a business mogul, a executive, not a veteran warrior but the eyes, they were the same. His eyes. 'Is he really alive?' After all this time...after all this waiting, after she had thought him dead. The scars, the damage ingrained to his flesh remained, it was him yet as his eyes scanned the room and met her own there was nothing there beyond a brief recognition before they returned to Garvey's own.
"Now let us discuss the loss of that pilot and machine in Azerbaijan." Just from the mere tone of his voice she could pick out instantly that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation for Mr. Garvey.
Perhaps he had been right to bring along his own personal security to this meeting...
The meeting did not last long perhaps another few minutes before the tanker was to be stormed by Federal special forces and though in hindsight she knew the cause, became privy to just how the Federation had learned of their location and launched a sudden assault the flight from Beirut was among the harrowing escapes of her entire life. Garvey likewise escaped due to the sacrifices of both the Zeon soldiers present and his own personal security it was from this event. This attack that the next stage of what would be the lead up to the next incursion by Zeon against the Federation would lay its seeds into the soil to take root years down the line.
From this Federation assault Garvey was confirmed to be harboring ties to Zeon remnant forces and though he had escaped back to his homeland the noose was to tighten further around his neck in the coming days. Likewise this was how Zeon came into the care of Garvey's young daughter Loni while Madhi himself and his wife escaped due to the sacrifices of others the young girl was left behind. Perhaps not by choice given the events surrounding the separation yet separated all the same they were.
As for her? There was no time for small talk, no reminiscing about years past for her, no. She was hurtled quickly into operating once more with the Captain but there was no time for small talk preparations for 'what had to be done' needed to be completed. The Captain had deemed Garvey a liability following the assault, had considered his use as a asset here on Earth to no be next to none and given that he knew too much about the overall state of affairs for both the earth based and space based Zeon forces...he had to be removed from the picture.
And so he would be.
July 8th, 0089
Dubai, Federation Middle Eastern Territories, Earth
Garvey Enterprises Main Branch, Office Tower, Penthouse
1100 Hours
"You thought you could abuse my generosity, thought you could use our soldiers, our people for your own ambitions and I am here to tell you today that ends."
"What are you..." Who was this man to speak to him in such a manner?
"I gave you one directive and that was to supply the forces of Zeon stationed on that festering mudball, not use them to act out as your private militia. I don't care what petty grudge you hold against the Federation, it is superseded by my own." The sheer arrogance of this man was infuriating! How dare this bastard of a dead cause seek to lecture him on what he was right to feel, to do in the name if his faith, his god! This leftover of Zeon may have came from a more notable faction but they were cast offs all the same, denied everywhere they went for fear of the Federation's wrath if it was ever discovered.
It was he who had risked himself, obliged himself to these people at this bastard's direction no less!
"Do you have any idea who I am?!" 'I am Madhi Garvey!' He was important, a man of influence and wealth, a man of god.
"The better question would be do you have any idea what sort of man you have made your enemy. I am not the Federation, I will not drag you before a court to declare you guilty, I will not hesitate to dirty my own hands with your blood...with your wife's blood, with that adorable little girl of your's blood." This monster he had aligned with had made his position adamantly clear. It had become clear that the Federation was not responsible for his wife's abduction but the very man he had invited into his home, a man he had treated with and offered his support to.
It was insanity, why would he dissolve this alliance now? To assuage some pride in the aftermath of Azerbaijan? So what if those Zeon had lost some of their precious mobile suits, some of their pilots, they were only capable of fighting due to his generosity, due to his connections, due to his industry. These spaceborne parasites, these infidels had lost sight of the true master in this relationship.
'...With that adorable little girl of your's blood.' He had also gotten to Loni? That should have been impossible she was after all safely under guard...surrounded by Zeon. Was this mutiny universal or was this officer, this follower of dead men and women solely responsible? He didn't know but what he did know was that this bastard had started a war this day.
A war he would win because he had the backing of god on his side, not some theory proposed by a dead man.
Yet all the same what would this man do to his wife? His child? To him if he was not appeased? That sent a shiver through his frame despite his anger.
"What have you done?" What had he done? What sort of mutilations or torture had this bastard subjected his wife to? A man who killed as easily as he breathed, a man who inflicted suffering because he found it needed, there could be no mercy, no compassion from someone like this. He knew that, had known, but he had fallen in with him all the same.
The glass of water long left abandoned on the teak desk began to vibrate its contents slopping over the rim. Indeed the outward window to the west began to vibrate intensely, the paned glass flexing inward as it was subjected to air pressure that was entirely unnatural.
"I have ended our agreement." The building itself despite being designed to weather the worst of what nature could offer it, designed to weather storms and typhoons of the sea, earthquakes and landslides it trembled ever so slightly.
"What do you mean! What do you mean you son of a bitch! Answer me!" He screamed, he raved, he ranted over the phone but was only met with silence on the other end. It was not until flash of blue, the resounding light from a camera mount caught his eye at the far end of the room did he understand what was going on. As the machine coasted backward the propulsion from its thrust shattering windows and even sending winding cracks and breaks in the reinforced storm plating of his own penthouse he understood exactly what this man had set into motion.
He had indeed ended their agreement. As the machine hefted upward what appeared to be some sort of rocket launcher and shouldered it he couldn't help but to think of escape, of some means of surviving this. Even as it fired, a flare of red and fire as it discharged its high explosive death to him, he wanted to survive, he couldn't die here. Not like this, not to Zeon's petty politics or this bastard's ambition. He was meant to be the one to bring the Federation to it's knees, to remind it of a time when it had done the same to a billion others like him, to remind them that no matter how many decades passed that their faith would allow no forgiveness, no mercy to them.
As the window burst inward from the rocket as it breached into the building, as he was scaled with glass and bits of debris he couldn't help but to scream as the warhead detonated. As flame and force destroyed the room, as fire ate at at the interior of his throat and ceased all conscious thought, his very ability to scream he couldn't stop but thinking that this man, this Zeon, was the harbinger of a day of judgement, not just for the Federation but perhaps all of humanity.
Some demon cast into the flesh of man like some abominable golem of ancient folklore. As rubble cascaded down around him, as the building itself groaned and the uppers floor began to cave inward due to the explosive strike as his ear drums burst from the concussive force his eyes even as they melted within his skull never left that mobile suit that had done this. Acted the part of a loyal beast of burden to this man who seemed to act the part of a final tribulation walking the earth.
Yet the irony of it being a Federation machine was not lost upon him.
Indeed it was that followed him into his grave, the very notion of his death being blamed upon the Federation when it had come from such an ardent adapt of the Principality.
July 8th, 0089
Dubai, Federation Middle Eastern Territories, Earth
RMS-179 GM II
1100 Hours
Readying the Hyper Bazooka and bringing it upward from its mount was child's play despite the weapon's immense bulk and size. After all she had been making usage of a much lesser powerful machine to heft around similarly sized weapons. If there could be one positive from flying this heap of Federation scrap it would be that she could grant that it was a well designed, powerful unit. Though that was something she was already intimately aware of from personal experience abet on the other end of the armor.
As the mobile suit lifted upward its powerful thruster modules propelling hundreds of feet into the air as it coasted above once thriving centers of commerce, industry and business towards the perhaps the most prominent location still standing within the once great city of Dubai. The head quarters of the multinational Garvey Enterprises. It stood out as easily the most noteworthy. The mega skyscraper was easily 3,000 feet tall, she wouldn't even bother to count off the floors she passed as she ascended as quickly as the propulsion unit on the suit would allow her to. To the machine's credit due to its increased module size of the backpack it could carry a fair bit of fuel, which was her primary concern with the Captain's method of assassination to begin with.
Due to the building's sheer height coasting upwards to the top floor and the penthouse would have been impossible with even her modified Kai operating at peak condition which was impossible now. It simply couldn't carry enough fuel or propel itself fast enough but to this GM's enhanced thrusters that was easily within its operation's limit.
That was how she reached the upper floors of the tower, how when finally ascended to the penthouse she was still capable of additional flight time. Even as her thrusters blew out windows and send showers of glass to the street before all that lay before her was the mission and the solemn declaration of her loyalty. To him, to his cause, to his ambition, she would see them fulfilled because they were the only thing worth fighting for anymore.
Garvey was a thorn to be plucked from his side, to cast suspicion and doubt upon his enemies with this method of assassination was her role, her duty. Her duty to him, one simple command and she would forever be welcome at his side, she would not be cast aside again, she would not dishonor him again; she would fight for him.
There was no hesitation, there was no remorse.
No doubt or misgivings, she fired into the building, again and again and again until the bazooka's magazine was emptied and the upper floors of the tower were a mass of burning rubble.
Now all there was left to this was to meet at the assigned location and finally see this ended.
Dieter Kries, the Captain awaited her.
July 8th, 0089
Adyar, India, Earth 1200 Hours
Zeon Remnants Headquarters, Central Warehouse District
1100 Hours
"Goodbye Mr. Garvey." he offered succinctly to the empty now line. The resounding cold and artificial dial tone his only company.
With that personal touch now complete all he needed to do was Yuuka to confirm the deed though he already had personally heard what had occurred. Still protocol had to be followed, if by some miracle Garvey had survived the initial strike undoubtedly Yuuka would have followed up the with the complete destruction of the building itself. That would prove somewhat excessive but he was willing to tolerate any potential attention it could bring as long as the job was done.
Indeed now all he needed to do was to bide his time until that confirmation could be given and then they could precede to the next and final stage of the operation. Garvey had proven an adequate source for him, one that would be replaced easily nor quickly yet all the same the man had stepped beyond himself and that he would not allow.
He couldn't have allowed it, even if the Garvey himself was worth more to him alive then what he had cost him so far, the situation was untenable, due to his own fervent opposition to the Federation it was only a matter of time until potential links were discovered and proven outright. This was damage control, preventive measures designed to ward off attention to himself and his own ambitions, nothing more. Yes he had his own war to prepare for, steps and plans to put into motion, and every day, every hour, every second he put his focus and energy on to this he was further delaying his own schemes.
"It's done." Her voice. Yuuka's voice came across evenly despite coming over the creaking and mechanic noises of the interior of the cockpit. Nodding his head gently, swaying it back and forth as if to music only he could hear he gave her a single word of confirmation. "Excellent." Clicking the burner cellular phone closed before promptly throwing it down harshly to the chipped and concrete below. It crashed against the solid surface but he wasn't done yet, bringing down his well to do heel repeatedly split the plastic, shattered the frame and spilled the electric internals of the device across the floor. It had taken a bit longer then he would have liked but done was done and dead was dead. That would teach Garvey to never underestimate what he was willing to sacrifice to the cause.
What depths he would sink to, what he would do to accomplish the divine mission that had been handed down to him. The businessman had thought himself invaluable, beyond his touch, beyond any paltry threat he could command safe as he was within his tower. He had been proven incorrect on that facet and now there was just one final loose end to tie up before this chapter could be properly closed.
Palming the .38 within his hand he strolled to the far corner of the dark warehouse amid the pouring rain and season weather he doubted anyone would hear gunfire and even if they did...this area of town was a slum. Had been a slum, gangs and other assorted lowlifes had been commonplace here for centuries there would be no fuss over this. He ignored the pitiful mewling and sobs that escaped the bag that had been placed atop the woman's head to bind and blind her. He looked at the sight before him not as another person, not even as a woman or innocent caught up in his quarrel but as just another stage of the operation to complete. At the figure arrayed within the steel folding chair before him he raised upward the sleek frame of aluminum alloy, wood and steel scarcely lining up the sight with his primary eye before firing. Once, twice, three times, four times, five before all the chambers of the revolver were spent.
Letting the pistol slipped from his gloved hand into the awaiting plastic baggy that he had prepared was nothing but second nature after all this weapon was now linked to the murder of one Yasmin Garvey and it wouldn't do for the spouse of such a prestigious backer of the Zeon to be found dead in their care. No she would be delivered back to Dubai in shape enough to be identified, of course found in the 'appropriate spot at the appropriate time'. It would serve his purpose as another sign of the cruelty and corruption of the Federation if nothing else.
All the same though he couldn't help but ponder even if for just a few brief seconds what would become of the girl, it would be better if she was killed as well it would undoubtedly lead to trouble if the truth was uncovered yet all the same...killing a child for the sins of the father seemed a bit extreme, even to him. Besides it would give that girl some motivation to be a proper soldier, having lost her entire family to the Federation would cement any doubts in her mind on to who the enemy was, yes by this design of his no doubt this Loni would grow up having a deeper resentment for the Federation then he'd ever deemed possible by merely living under the banner of 'Madhi's Cause'. After all it was this very sort of suffering that had led him to Yuuka all those years prior, indeed this repetition might very well one day give him another soldier to put upon the field but those thoughts were indeed for the future.
As it stood now he had little use for a twelve year old in the coming war. He wasn't Char or Glemy after all.
July 16th, 0089
Beirut , Lebanon, Asia Territories, Earth
Port of Beirut, Garvey Enterprises Deep Ocean Hauler: GE 109
1900 Hours
"Did you turn the girl over to Kirks?" He questioned aloud as she entered into the lower tanker holds where he had been awaiting her arrival.
As she descended the same stairs he had weeks ago she still couldn't believe this mirage of her own imagining. That Dieter Kries, the Black Phantom, her teacher, mentor, the one who had extended not charity nor scorn but understanding to her once again stood before her. He had never coddled nor babied her, he had never offered sympathy or comfort, he had imparted his view of this world, of being a soldier to her and that was all. She was to either be worthy of that or she was not. There was nothing between the two in his eye, and she agreed.
"Yes...Ms. Garvey is going to be looked after then?" She questioned aloud, she did of course admittedly see some parallel between herself and the now orphaned girl. Yet she had chosen this, after the Federation had killed her parents and she left alone and orphaned in Side Three, falling under the sway of the Zabi nationalism, and Zeon contolist ideologies that promoted war against the Federation had been as natural as breathing. Yet this girl had been denied her right to a peaceful life, though she supposed it would have happened either way, even if she had personally pulled the trigger that had ended her father's life, she would have never been allowed to live peacefully, Madhi had been a ticking time bomb that much was obvious now.
He had been tactless and aggressive, even if the Captain had not come down to Earth to supervise his removal...he would have gotten himself killed eventually anyway. So perhaps it was better this way, perhaps she would be raised as she had a foreigner among the Zeon yet a patriot to their cause all the same.
"Of course. It's only right for us to look after the victim of such a savage attack by the Federation." He quipped aloud as she heard the familiar click of a lighter, the sudden flash of light illuminating the darkened tanker hold for an instant, then the overly strong and pungent odor of tobacco assaulting her noise. 'Still smokes the same brand even after all this time...' It really was him. She could pick out the telltale scent of Side Three's 'Royal Reserve' anywhere, after all it was a brand she had briefly taken up herself prior to the close of the One Year War. Some homage or imitation of the Captain in order to honor him.
But all the same it was good her that the young Loni would be taken care of. Kirks seemed to have taken a liking to her anyway, perhaps he could provide a stable father figure to her in place of Madhi.
"Good." She simply commented.
"Good now then kid...its high time we talk, after all its been a few years." She didn't miss the slow curving upward of his lip as he stepped towards her.
"It has been sir." She sounded off in agreement. Among all the details she noticed about the Captain whom had resurfaced once more in her life after near a decade's absence was that his body still bore the trademark of his battles against the Federation and apparently he had even acquired a few new ones if the limp on his left leg was anything to go. 'I wonder if he still dopes to suppress the pain?' That was something she had wondered upon occasion over the years, if he had remained in a constant steady stream of pain, with the only way to management it being regular doses of morphine or other high tier medicinal pain killers.
She would not ask though, it was not her place not as a soldier under the command of the man and not as a woman who owed him. He could keep his dignity in that regard and she wouldn't begrudge it.
"I trust you have been keeping well? I must admit I was surprised initially when I strolled in here just a few weeks ago and discovered you were among those following Garvey." He rounded off, his gaze even and it was clear he was expecting an detailed account of just what had led her to this moment, to being once more in his presence.
And so she told him.
Told him the tale of herself since they had last encountered each other all those years ago in 0083 UC.
At the end of that tale in the dank hold of that ship he made her an offer, one she had been expecting if somewhat dreading the absence of if it should it not come but all the same it came. She was relieved, she was thrilled, she was enthralled. The prospect of fighting at his side was pleasant, she had never encountered a person who had made her feel...anything, being at the side of one who pushed past the base and trivial to the core of her was something she was pleased by.
And it was offered to her at such a low price.
She had always been a tool for war, a soldier, trained in the art of killing, it was all she had ever wanted to be. All she had ever thought to be, she had lost herself in hatred and fostered an unquenchable desire for blood, the Federation would pay for what it had done. For so long only that had mattered, until him, until he had come into her life.
Shown her another aspect of war, one she had never looked into, to combine the role of avenger and patriot, to believe in something, a society, a civilization, a people.
She owed this to him.
She would follow him.
As his words followed out all she could hear over the hammering of her own heart within her chest was what awaited before her, his proposal was put so simply.
"Come with me."
"Fight for me."
"Help me to realize my dreams of a new Zeon."
"Be my sword."
"Give me your strength to realize my ambition."
"I offer you this Yuuka Ashihana. Become my weapon and help me see this through."
How could she refuse that?
How could she willingly turn away from him again? When his absence, his supposed death had nearly ruined her outright?
Like a junkie leaping on a fix, she readily agreed.
She would fight for him, him and only him. This she swore, swore in her name, in the name of Zeon. From this day until her death she would spill the blood of his enemies.
AN: Well there we go the lead up to: Sword of Zeon circa the perspective of Yuuka. She's been quite busy since the close of the Neo Zeon War if you couldn't tell from the Two Shot. Got to meet all sorts of interesting people who would become prominent in Unicorn. All the same though with this tie in fic now completed, I can focus the majority of my attentions back towards the primary narrative.
I do hope you have enjoyed reading it if you got this far though feel free to leave me a comment expressing if you didn't care for it.
All the same I do hope that you will all follow, favorite and review.
Till next time
-Reborn Akatsuki