Soldier of OZ: Walker's Account
Chapter 10 – Portrait of a Ruined Prince
In the summer of After Colony 195, the Order of the Zodiac had taken center stage of Earth. Its successful breakthrough coup d'état had folded the civilian leadership of the Alliance, and it had simultaneously dispersed more than half of the Alliance's military forces on Earth, with the intent of destroying the entirety of the old order.
Colonel Treize Khushrenada arrived at the Diekirch, home to the headquarters of UESAEUCOM, the Alliance European Command, via his personal shuttle. He was grimly aware that he'd originally had two such shuttles to call upon, identical aircraft delivered to OZ during its Speciali days from the Airbus aircraft factory in Hamburg, Germany. The other shuttle had been destroyed by one of Operation Meteor's Gundams, with most of the Alliance high command aboard it.
Treize was here in the role of commander-in-chief of OZ, though it didn't keep him from taking in the scenery. After the shuttle landed vertically, he disembarked with Lieutenant Colonel Une. The Earth Army's two newest regiments, the Fusiliers-Chasseurs and Fusiliers-Grenadiers Regiments, stood on review for their commander-in-chief: stone-faced, imposing, in immaculate hunter green uniforms with polished boots and glistening sabers. They were all men of large build, though there were some women in the support units, itself an oddity in Alliance: they'd been formed from what had been the 1st Special Rifles Brigade of the Guard of Honor, the most elite infantry regiment in the Special Mobile Suit Troops, which had the same unusual makeup.
"They raised the regiments fast. Seems a little excessive though," one primly-dressed officer from the Luxembourg General Staff noted quietly to his nearby comrade, after a nearby guard of honor raised the dual dark blue banners of the Earth and Space Forces for the arrival of the supreme commander.
The officer staff officer shot daggers from his eyes. "First, Field Marshal Noventa had a unofficial bodyguard unit. They were just terrible at their jobs. Second, after what happened with that Gundam pilot in California, there wasn't an option. The Supreme Military Council's calling the shots now, and they insisted on it. While OZ is in command, we can't pretend the commander-in-chief's will is a replacement for the commander-in-chief. You want the Military Commissariat doing it?"
Treize paid them a admiring nod—the whole unit was visually impressive, outstanding examples of enlisted soldiers and officers even in the age of the mobile suit —but he was more interested in what he saw behind them.
Standing proudly, and flanked on either side by a pair of OZ-07AMS 'Aries' in black livery, was OZ-00MS 'Tallgeese', the victorious machine of the successful liberation of the Sanc Kingdom. It dwarfed the four Aries mobile suits that flanked it, with its huge siege cannon and circular white shield, now missing its Alliance eagle emblem. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the machine in person, but that was years ago. Treize watched it, glistening in the sunlight, to him nothing short of a work of art.
"So that's Tallgeese. I can see that it's no ordinary machine." Treize and Une paused on the causeway between two buildings. OZ's original mobile suit had been fully repaired and restored since the last battle. "And that it could have no pilot but Zech."
Une cleared her throat softly. "Your Excellency, I wonder if giving him this sort of special treatment is wise."
He smiled, knowing he could always count on Une to say what needed to be. "Is it unwise to be treating an outstanding officer accordingly?" He was taunting her.
"I'm concerned where that favoritism might lead," Une fired back calmly.
"Lady Une, there's no need for you to worry about that. You've plenty of matters deserving of your attention," he told him calmly, a hand on his hip.
After reviewing the Mobile Suit Troops officers, including a few he recognized, in the main hall, he met with Lieutenant Colonel Zechs Merquise and Flight Lieutenant Lucrezia Noin in the commandant's office. Unlike the castles that had been damaged during OZ's assault, the Air Army Headquarters were in excellent shape.
"Welcome, Your Excellency," Zechs told him, rigidly.
"I wanted to thank you for your service thus far," Treize told him, deliberately matching his stiffness.
"Thank you, sir."
"And Lieutenant Noin, I've reviewed the operations you've led on the frontlines. I should thank you personally as well."
"You're too kind, your Excellency," Noin responded quickly.
Why should his Excellency be thanking his own soldiers? Worse still, some shamelessly accept his praise, Une thought, not bothering to hide her distaste.
"I've put Lady Une in charge of the coming campaign. Should we begin?" Treize asked.
"Of course, sir. I'll be leading a briefing at Sixteen-Hundred Hours."
There was a clock in the wall to the left. "Then it's almost time, please finish your preparations."
"Yes sir," Une replied, before exiting the room. She paused just before the door. "Colonel Zechs, Lieutenant Noin, you'll be joining me at the briefing."
"Oh, I'll need to have a short word with Zechs. I'll be sure to send him your way soon."
"Very well, your Excellency. Lieutenant Noin, move it!" Une repeated, raising the volume of her voice.
"Yes ma'am."
When the two men were alone, Treize took a behind the desk, empty except for a notebook computer. He relaxed very slightly in their privacy, putting his hands together over the table. "I now believe you've come to terms with your feelings vis-à-vis the Alliance, Lightning Baron. Or should I be calling you Lightning Count?" he asked, referencing the new title conferred on him by the Romefeller Foundation.
"Actually, your Excellency, I was hoping to serve you a little longer," he replied, staring at Treize trough his iconic mask.
"Noting would make me happier, but only if you're certain yourself."
"As it stands, there's only one title I could give myself: Zechs, killer of his own men."
Treize noted his heavy tone. "The Gundams?"
"Yes, sir."
"In that case, do as you wish."
"I'm very grateful for that, sir." Zechs turned to leave the office, heading for the door.
Treize spoke again. "By the way, will you be discarding that mask?" he asked, stopping Zechs. "You've gotten your revenge, it no longer serves a purpose."
"I will still bring my own hatred onto the battlefield. Just think of it as my mark of distinction."
"I admire your devotion as a soldier. It's why I feel as though I can trust you with anything…"
Treize smiled at his back. "…Milliardo Peacecraft."
"That name…" Zechs mumbled. "If you'd please, sir."
Treize rose from his seat. "I'm looking forward to the day you discard that mask."
"Yes sir." Zechs replied, saluting a second later.
"We all carry our demons, Zechs. But you carry more than just that. One of your comrades asked me to remind you of that."
II
With about half an hour until 1600 hours, Flight Lieutenant Oswald Walker, Flight Officer Tycho Nichol, Second Lieutenant of Engineering Gunther Mieser and other certified engineers sat in a circle in the large aircraft hangar. A visible cloud of smoke hung over the table, illuminated by a single ceiling lamp.
"Gentlemen, I think that's everything," Nichol said, extinguishing a cigarette in an aluminum ash tray in the middle of the circle of notebook computers.
The others mumbled in agreement, except for Walker, who, as usual, was busy with his paper notebook, jotting down notes from the latest OZ-12SMS technical data alongside detailed sketch of a Taurus mobile suit.
"Should we go over it again? You know Une's going to bust our balls if we get this wrong," Mieser pointed out.
"How would she know?" Nichol fired back. "How would any of us know?"
"Let me rephrases that then: she'll bust our balls if we don't give her what she wants to hear."
Several more puffs of smoke. "Point taken, but any more, and we'll start second-guessing ourselves."
Mieser nodded and Walker twirled his pencil in his hand. He was one of the few technicians not smoking. "Nichol has a point. We've done everything we can, if we made any mistakes it was based on incorrect data."
"I sure hope so," another engineer said.
"Speaking of devil, here she comes," Nichol said, rising from his folding chair. Mieser took out the cigarette he'd just put between his lips and joined the other officers, saluting at Une. Noin followed close behind her.
"If you've got time to smoke, you'd better have finished the analysis," Une said, chiding them.
"Yes, ma'am," Walker said, as she eyed the paper notebook he'd been sketching in. She glanced at the visible pages before looking back at him, her hand open. Walker reached for his portable computer, a bulky, durable workshop affair, and ejected the small disc from the optical drive, presenting it to Une.
Une stared at the disc with her usually cold eyes. "You're dismissed, then."
They clicked their heels. "Yes, ma'am."
Walker quickly took the notebook before Une could look at it again and nodded a greeting at Noin, who nodded back as he dropped the computer into a briefcase.
"See you at the briefing, Walker."
He nodded at Nichol as he walked down the hangar, anxious to put some distance between himself and Une. Holding his briefcase in his left hand, he flipped through his paper notebook, before he came to the page containing sketches and notes on Tallgeese. All the information was based what he'd known at Corsica—the sketch of the Tallgeese even featured its unfinished head compartment, identical to that of an OZ-06MS 'Leo'.
Come to think of it, this'll be the first time I've seen Tallgeese first hand since Corsica. It's operational now, and there's a huge amount of data, but I really do need to see it first-hand.
Flipping through the pages, he came to the hangar's exit and immediately spotted Tallgeese, which was flanked by four OZ-07AMSK command variant MS belonging to the different flight commanders called to the Luxembourg, including Walker's own.
I wonder where Noin's is, he thought as he climbed up the gantry that had been moved back in front of Tallgeese shortly after Treize's arrival. "Mieser, I thought repairs were done yesterday. Are you making adjustments, because the vernier boosters…"
He looked over the level of the gantry and was so surprised he almost lost his grip on his briefcase. "Dr. Cebotari!"
In Tallgeese' open cockpit sat Dr. Cebotari, the "gravity-defying political officer," as F/O Mazuri had crudely taken to calling her behind her back. While she had both hands on the flight sticks, she wasn't harnessed in, and was a little eye-catching in her attire: an unbuttoned formfitting blazer and short skirt, the same void-like black as her hair, and a taunt white blouse, not tucked in and with the top three or four buttons undone. For a second, Walker thought something was wrong; then he remembered that the doctor had a sort of melancholy about her, even when she appeared pleased, as she was toying with the machine.
"You're not in uniform," he told her, climbing to the top of the gantry. Why did I say that? I mean, she's obviously meaning something dressed like that, but I wasn't obligated to acknowledge it. What is wrong with me?
"Should I be?" she asked, in that soft, breathy voice she was known for. It was actually a little difficult to hear her outside, despite having a mezzo-soprano voice. Her voice wasn't so soft he couldn't detect her disinterest in his opinion, though.
He walked up to the cockpit, setting his briefcase down on the raised metal floor beneath him. "That actually doesn't matter, but you shouldn't be in this machine to begin with."
"I wanted to see what it felt like," she told him.
"I see," Walker said, doing his best not to sound annoyed. Hiding negative emotions was one of his strong points, or so he hoped. "I did expect you weren't a mobile suit pilot."
She put her hands on the outside walls and pulled herself out of the seat, smiling and closing her eyes. "What gave it away?"
"Is there something I can do for you, Dr. Cebotari?"
"Eva," she said, correcting him. There was something about her body language that seemed to demand attention. Not even in a promiscuous way, but more subtle and still effective. "I shouldn't have to tell you twice."
Walker watched her pass him, walking up to the guardrail, her eyes still closed and her high heels clicking against the floor. "Twice?"
"When we last spoke."
Walker immediately recalled their last conversation—back on the OZS Catalonia, when the doctor had conveyed the information that F/O Otto Richter had died in combat in the Sanc Kingdom. He replayed the whole conversation in his head, just staring into Tallgeese's fuselage. She'd said remarkably little, and it consisted mostly of Walker just staring blankly at her crimson eyes.
"Do you still feel it was futile?"
Eva's voice dragged him back into reality, standing on the gantry in front of Tallgeese. His past words echoed in his head. "I know 'Grand Slam' was a great success. But it still stands, I'll soon be back in Europe. If I'd been with Tallgeese, even if I hadn't operated it, he wouldn't have died."
He had stared at her, his eyes widened. "So why I didn't I join Zechs?"
"Do you?" Eva asked again, in the present.
"Apparently, I don't have an explanation for everything," he told her, trying to match her calm, controlled tone.
Eva looked at him. With her high heels, they stood roughly at the same height. "At least you've learned something, Walker."
The enigmatic doctor vanished down the ladder, leaving Walker alone as he'd planned to be, and he climbed into Tallgeese's open cockpit. He subconsciously sniffed the air—absent was the usual human smell, just faint perfume and, even fainter, wool and cotton clothing.
There might be unresolved issues for this, or some other more Freudian explanation, but that woman makes me intensely uncomfortable, he thought, as he switched on the main computer and sat back on the ejection seat.
III
"Dac, you've known the flight lieutenant for some time now, yes?"
F/O Ali Mazuri and P/O David Bishop stood in the front rows in the main hangar. As per the usual custom, during these sort of massive briefings, junior officers took the front rows while senior officers stood in the back. It'd been done this way back in the days of the Speciali, General Catalonia claimed it encouraged junior officers to voice their concerns or questions, while senior officers could always say anything that needed to be said afterwards.
A technician was still setting up the high-powered projector that was going to broadcast onto the empty back wall of the hangar, a convenient improvised screen.
"Yeah, few years now," he answered, sounding unusually cryptic.
"I heard Walker has a sister in OZ as well. An attaché for the Space Forces or something like that," Mazuri whispered to him.
"I don't know what an 'attaché' is, but yeah, Aretha Walker. Haven't seen her in a while though."
Mazuri sighed. "That's got to be tough for him."
"What makes you say that?"
Mazuri glanced at him. "You know the situation in space is a lot more tenuous than on Earth, right? Besides Barge, outer space is Alliance territory. And then there's the Gundams. Space is still a theater of operations we might not win."
Bishop grimaced. "I hadn't thought of that."
"I wonder if that's what Dr. Cebotari told Walker when we returned from 'Grand Slam' that left him so disheartened, something about his sister in space. I mean, the man has half-kill credit for an Alliance space cruiser. He should have been lighter than air." He sighed. "Then again, with Walker, it seems hard to tell. He always has that same expression on."
"Expression," Dac echoed quietly. "Dr. Cebotari?" he then asked, a little confused.
Mazuri stared at him incredulously. "Oh, come on, Davy-boy. Eva? The political officer?"
Dac kept staring.
"Breathy voice? Skin like a china plate? Gravity-defying breasts? Is any of this ringing a bell?" Mazuri asked, by now quietly shouting.
"Ohh...that political officer, Eva Cebotari."
Mazuri rolled his eyes particularly hard at that. F/O Kaneshiro Kanna had quietly stood in the row to his right. "Don't you have a sister too, Dac?"
Both Mazuri and Bishop turned to her, surprised. Mazuri in particular. "You have a sister too, Bishop?"
Dac frowned again, looking a little self-defensive. "Sure I have a sister. What of it?"
"I saw your record," Kanna said, looking forward. "She's your fraternal twin."
She cocked her head a little. "Is that the right English word? 'Fraternal'?"
"You have a twin sister?" Mazuri asked, again.
"What of it?" Dac snapped back, now quietly yelling as well.
As they bickered, Walker stood in the back row with the other flight lieutenants and squadron commanders, near the Lightning Count. He felt he'd managed to wipe any expression he had of discontent from his face. The boom lift Lady Une was riding in, intended for aircraft maintenance, shifted downwards in front of the massive projector screen she was using, indicating that the briefing was about to begin.
Out of the corner of his eye, Walker spotted F/L Ogasawara, also in full uniform, walk up next to him and nod a casual greeting. He nodded back discreetly, or at least he thought so. Kanna noticed their interaction, which she found mildly amusing.
Une's voice boomed through the tiny microphone she was wearing, as the briefing began. A schematic of the new OZ-12SMS 'Taurus' mobile suits was projected behind her. "Our next operation involves transporting the new Taurus mobile suits to our Siberian Base, where our new mobility software will be integrated."
Mobility software? That must be the new military artificial intelligence, Walker thought. Of all the upgrades that made the Taurus a true second-generation mobile suit, the new AI mobility software—dubbed "mobile doll" system—was the one he was least familiar with, as he wasn't a software engineer.
"Recent events have warranted a lack of confidence in the facilities and security at the Lake Victoria Academy, resulting in this shift," Une continued.
Lake Victoria used to be the final integration site for the new Taurus. But then there was the Nightmare.
"The new Taurus units will be transported across the Arabian Peninsula, guarded heavily by the North African Air Army. Once safely in the Eurasian Union, they'll be transferred to local OZ units. Now, while there haven't been any real threats yet, we're planning for all contingencies. We've leaked a false transport plan as a decoy," she explained, as the projection changed to video of several strategic airlifters in mid-flight. "We won't let the enemy interfere so easily this time."
There was some mumbling in the front rows. "Our enemy? You mean the Gundams?" someone asked.
Une smirked. "The Gundams have struck every single operation carried out by OZ that they've been able to. I don't expect this to be an exception." The image behind her changed to a map projection of Eurasia, highlighting the transport route and major OZ bases across different longitudes. "So long as I'm in command, there will be no such interference."
"Traveling through the Siberia Military District, they'll pass through territory directly administrated by OZ. Not even the Gundams can strike with impunity in the Sakha Republic," Zechs observed, referring to the autonomous republic within the Eurasian Union.
"No, we want them to come. I consider annihilating the Gundams a major part of this plan. The defeats faced by the Alliance military were the results of poor intelligence combined with incompetent leadership in the field. Now, OZ will operate with the best intelligence at its disposal. I plan to give a lesson how the correct way to eradicate the enemy."
Zechs had no response. Walker wasn't impressed, though he was in no place to show it. Assuming out data interpretation is right, anyway.
"It might not come to much use, but let me provide some basic information. Since the beginning of Operation 'Meteor', or Operation M as some refer to it, we've confirmed five distinct Gundams deployed across the Earth. Their similarities aside, it's their differences which must dictate our responses to them in combat from now on. Treating the Gundams as identical threats was the Alliance's first mistake."
Both video footage and rendered schematics of a Gundam appeared behind her. "We'll refer to the mobile suit that fell over the Pacific Ocean as Gundam Zero-One. Its variable geometry allows it to perform much as an attack aircraft. Once located, we'll lure it to an air superiority zone established by Aries troops and shoot it down. Without its flight capability, we can overcome it in a protracted battle."
What a great time to be an Aries pilot, Noin thought sarcastically.
"Next, Gundam Zero-Two. Records sealed by the Alliance Space Forces reveal that it was actually encountered on the sixth of April, just before Operation M, by Pioneer Leos at MO-II. MO-II was subsequently abandoned."
A schematic diagram of Gundam-02, with its distinctive beam scythe, was replaced by footage of it attacking an Alliance warship. "Zero-Two's onboard equipment and stealth construction affords it a very small radar signature, even in combat."
The image changed. "Meanwhile, with the assault unit, Gundam Zero-Three, the strategy is to force it to expend all of its ordnance as quickly as possible. This is true for all of them, but no one mobile suit excels in organized battle. Zero-Three has few if any anti-mobile melee weapons, and thus, could be engaged both by Leo and Aries units under those circumstances."
The image changed again and Walker clenched his fist. It was footage of the Gundam that tore through Corsica and the Middle East Air Army, alongside the Maganac Paramilitary Corps.
"The unit that appeared in the Arabian Peninsula in league with the Maganac Corps is Gundam Zero-Four. Zero-Four is also a close-range warfare type, though we believe it does have longer range than Zero-Two."
The image changed again. "As for final unit, Zero-Five, make sure to avoid direct combat wherever possible. With the other Gundams in mind, stop it in its tracks and barrage it until it's destroyed. Be extremely cautious of the firepower in its left arm."
Walker silently fumed, his right hand still clenched. Gundam-04, I'll remember that. And I bet right now, those damn pilots are doing the same thing, plotting their strikes against the convoys or anything else they can find.
"That concludes my briefing. I ask that the respective commanders mobilize their units at the bases along the route, and remain on full-alert."
"Yes, ma'am!" the officers in the gallery announced. Une's boom lift moved forward before stopping above the middle rows.
"Colonel Zechs, I was hoping you'd take on the task of fighting Zero-One in the Tallgeese, one-on-one. What do you think?"
Noin scoffed at the suggestion. "You can't seriously expect him to go alone! I'd be his backup."
"But Noin…"
"There are still Aries troops operational at Lake Victoria. Colonel, I request orders to command a unit for that assignment."
"Lieutenant Noin, I'm assigning you to my staff at Headquarters."
"Oh boy," Dac whispered, looking over his shoulder.
Noin looked stunned. "…but why?"
"You'll be assisting me directly, do you have a problem with that?"
She didn't have an answer for that. "…no, ma'am."
"Colonel Zechs previously suffered a serious defeat at the hands of Zero-One. Now that he has the Tallgeese, I thought this might be the ideal opportunity to get his revenge," Une said, sounding a little gleeful.
"Very convenient. Any further defeat would be his own fault," Noin mumbled back.
"Noin, it suits me just fine. Actually, I was hoping you'd be assigned to the staff."
"Colonel?"
"In the future, we'll need quick, accurate information. I'll be counting on you there."
Then they shouldn't be sending Noin, Walker thought, before immediately regretting the internalized insult. Kanna looked at him, a little confused at his sudden emotional response.
"Sir, count on me then!"
Une turned her attention back to the body of troops and raised her voice again. "Commence operations, you're all dismissed!"
The officers began to disperse, and Zechs and Noin exchanged some uncharacteristically quiet words before splitting in different directions. Walker watched the two leave, as Une lowered the boom lift even further, directly above them.
"Flight Lieutenant Walker!"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, turning around and standing at attention.
"Assuming your information is correct, it was better than I was expecting. Keep it up."
I'll assume this is Une's version of a compliment. "Thank you, Colonel."
"One last thing: His Excellency wants to speak with you personally, concerning some future development projects. I suggest you get moving."
Walker saluted swiftly. He knew better than to question Une, and he would have done it anyway. "Yes, ma'am, if there's nothing else…"
"There isn't. I'd like to discuss some things with Flight Lieutenant Ogasawara," she said, touching the lift controls and noisily shifting away.
Walker lowered his arm and took off. She really likes that boom lift, he thought as he headed for the door. God help us all if Une ever finds a portable cherry picker for her own use.
"I suppose there's such a thing as too obedient," Une mumbled as Walker departed. "Ogasawara?"
"Yes, ma'am?" Flight Lieutenant Ogasawara said, standing at attention. Were it not for the boom lift, she was actually a good ten centimeters taller than Une at least.
"His Excellency and the general staff in Diekirch have both agreed with the report submitted by you and Flight Lieutenant Carlyle. Personally, I see no reason why we shouldn't restore the elite Special Recon Battalions as full strength units within OZ, given that outstanding performance of its members during 'Daybreak'. Have your own squadron rosters finalized and sent to me for approval."
"Yes, ma'am."
It's about time some 'outstanding' soldiers kept acting like soldiers. She lowered the boom lift to just over the ground and climbed out. "We'll need units of the Special Recon Battalion on both Earth and Space soon, so I suggest you familiarize yourself with the new Taurus mobile suit immediately."
"Of course, ma'am," Ogasawara responded. She softened her voice. "If I may ask, who will be commander of the First Battalion?"
She smiled. Of course, the original Special Recon Battalion commander was Lieutenant Colonel Castillo. "Castillo was an excellent soldier, but he never joined the Specials. And his 'conscious' apparently forced him to resign after 'Daybreak'. She raised an eyebrow. "Jockeying for promotion, Ogasawara?"
She made an indignant expression, cocking her head looking away, to Une's delight. "No, ma'am."
IV
"Otto Richter, died, Nineteenth of May, After Colony One-Nine-Five. Posthumously promoted to the rank of Flight Lieutenant, buried with full military honors in Alliance Military Cemetery in Funen, in the Sanc Kingdom."
Standing with perfect posture behind a desk, Treize put down the document he was reading and turned to Walker.
"Did you know Otto well?"
"Not as well as the Lightning Count, your Excellency," Walker admitted truthfully. "I was not one of his countrymen. But it's very unfortunate what happened."
Treize turned to the window, closing his eyes and smiled slightly. "Not entirely. Otto gave his life for the kingdom he loved and the man he considered his rightful king. I think a warrior like him couldn't ask for a better death."
Walker said nothing, keeping his hands behind his back.
"Perhaps it was Otto's time to die. If it was, then he was blessed." He turned to Walker. "But if it wasn't, it would be a travesty. For Otto's immortal soul, we can only ensure that the cause he sacrificed for endures. Though we cannot know that for certain, now can we."
The colonel always had a way of seeing both sides of any matter. "I agree completely, sir."
Treize sat down behind the desk. "Come, Walker. I called you here for more than remembering a fallen comrade." He unfolded the notebook computer and turned it on, opening a military design application.
Walker stood on the left side of the desk. OZ-13MS 'Epyon'. "You're keeping the name, sir."
"I know 'Epyon' was just name for the proof-of-concept design, but since your time at New Castle, I felt it was only fitting your signature be attached to this machine in the event of its completion."
"I'm sure the other engineers had a better name for it…"
"Perhaps, Walker, but you have worked more on the design than the rest of the engineers combined," Treize told him, almost smirking.
Walker sighed. "So I am the only project designer who is aware of what my efforts are being used for. That does explain some things, sir."
"Is that a problem, Walker?"
"No, sir," he said quickly. "Actually, I completely understand the desire for secrecy. That being said, my area of expertise is limited to basic mobile suit design, primarily propulsion and drive systems. More access to power plant and weapons engineer really would speed up the process."
"I understand your concerns, but for the time being, don't worry yourself with them." Treize scrolled through the application before closing it and ejecting a small, plastic memory card the size of a thumbnail, which he presented to Walker. "With the Epyon data, I've included a complete readout on the new Taurus. I know that you weren't involved in its development, but I'll arrange it so that you have plenty of access to the new machines in the near future. After that, I'll be counting on your experience."
Walker nodded, very gingerly taking the card from him. "And Tallgeese, sir?"
"That's Zechs' area. If we're fortunate, we've learned all we can from Tallgeese."
Walker looked at Treize. What does he mean by that? He decided not to dwell on it. "And what about the security concerns?"
Treize smiled again. "Holding you captive in New Castle in Ansembourg wasn't entirely reasonable. You're a soldier, after all. At the very least, I would be depriving you of your livelihood. Just exercise your best judgment, and don't let Lady Une know if you can help it."
Walker couldn't tell if Treize was joking or not, so he just smiled back a little. "I'll do just that, sir."
"I'm afraid you won't be able to write your thesis on it for the time being."
That was a joke, even though it was still literally true, so Walker smiled more. "Of course, Your Excellency."
"Though with that in mind, I have something else for you," Treize said, opening a drawer and taking out a small wooden display box. He opened the lid and pushed it across the desk to Walker. "I haven't used in it in some time, and just as I received it, I thought it should go to someone who would use it."
Walker knelt and reached into the wooden box. Inside was a polished mobile suit cockpit pennant, with the simple design of OZ's highest emblem, two stylized letters, and writing in a language he did not immediately recognize. He held it carefully in one gloved hand, watching his own reflection go by as he spun it.
"Thank you, sir."
Treize stood up and Walker immediately saluted. "Good luck, Walker. I look forward to your progress. You've been detained long enough, though I would ask you to meet with the good doctor concerning another matter."
The smile promptly vanished from Walker's face. "Thank you, Your Excellency," he said as he excused himself from the room, leaving Treize alone in the office.
OZ's commander-in-chief sat down in chair behind the desk, resisting the urge to cross one leg over the other, and glanced out the window at Tallgeese. Despite what he'd said to Une, this was not his first time seeing OZ's prototype in person. Closing his eyes, he went back in time, twelve years, when he'd been an officer cadet in the Alliance Special Mobile Suit Troops.
It was a better time in some respects. Life was a little less complicated. Catalonia was the universally-respected commandant of the Special Mobile Suit Troops, the only Speciali to wear the uniform of an Alliance Air Force brigadier general. He'd later be promoted, and remain the only general officer in the Alliance Speciali.
Chilias Catalonia was one of the finest men I've ever known. I'll ever know. Were it up to me personally, he'd still be commander-in-chief of OZ.
It was that year, AC 183, when he'd first seen Tallgeese, in storage at the Corsica Works.
"Given this machine's performance, I don't think it can be used to full effect on the battlefield."
Standing in his hunter green uniform, he'd told that to a senior engineer. It was the only time they'd met, and he only knew that he was on the original Tallgeese team, and had no part in development of the subsequent Leo mobile suit. What was his name? Michael Howard?
"This machine alone could fight a thousand enemy troops."
"Well, in essence, a mobile suit is intended for that type of asymmetrical warfare." That's what he'd told him
"I understand," Treize told him. Back then, he was still young, still learning. What the battlefield needs isn't a dysfunctional battalion of soldiers, but instead, just one warrior above them all, is what he'd told himself.
I was young. And more than a little bit foolish, Treize thought, with a smile. Hardly unexpected, when you consider it.
He looked at Tallgeese again. A dozen years later, Walker found you, Tallgeese. And he gave you to that one warrior.
V
Eva didn't care for Acht. Not at all.
Inspector Jonas Acht was twice her age, perhaps a little more. He'd been a commissioned officer in the Alliance Air Force before she'd learned to read. He had held the rank of major in the defunct-Western European Air Army, commanding Jagdstaffeln 88, one of the few genuinely elite Aries squadrons not part of the Special Mobile Suit Troops.
Jagdstaffeln 88 might still exist, but he shouldn't still have a career. Lucky for him, he was such a Romefeller stooge, Eva thought, with one eye closed. Out of the other, she peered at Acht as he consulted his notebooks.
Acht had been a political officer for the Romefeller Foundation, charged with ensuring the Foundation's interests were remembered by the Alliance armed forces, for at least ten years. There were thousands of 'inspectors' like Acht, most of whom had died during 'Daybreak', wiped out along with the Alliance military units they'd been posted to.
He was a rather ridiculous-looking man, conspicuously dressed in a black overcoat, and dark three-piece suit and a top hat that completed the ensemble. Despite his shady appearance, Acht had actually had the good sense to behave himself and treat the much younger but equally-ranked Eva with the respect due to her. That didn't really change Eva's low opinion of the middle-aged man though.
"Oh, there's your man now, Bonaparte," Acht said,
Acht meant Alphonse Bonoparte, ex-brigadier general of the Alliance Army, and the commander of the last mobile suit companies charged with defending the No. 12 Mobile Suit Factory at the Corsica Works before the UESA's collapse. He sat in the back seat of the 4x4 jeep driven by Acht.
Flight Lieutenant emerged among a few officers enjoying a smoking break, and spotted Bonaparte almost immediately. The ex-Alliance general climbed out of the jeep approached Walker, who seemed unsure how to respond.
"Now what?" Acht asked Eva, who sat in the front passenger seat.
"How would I know?" she countered quietly.
"Lieutenant, you mind if we speak in private?" Bonaparte asked, his voice still as distinctive and hoarse as Walker remembered it.
"Of course, sir."
The two men walked along the hangar away from the other officers. Bonaparte removed the brown flat cap from his head, holding it behind his back. Despite his different attire—he wore a summer coat, slacks, a vest and a dark green tie—Walker had recognized him immediately thanks to his mustache and beard, though they were whiter than he remembered.
"Before you ask, I'm doing well. I resigned my commission after Corsica…" he told him, gruffly. "…when Luxembourg announced they were going to divide the Middle Eastern Air Army between the different reserve armies in Europe."
"I see, sir," Walker said. Thank you for skipping the pleasantries.
"When OZ orchestrated its coup, I got the call. By the time I made my decision, your comrades had already succeeded," he told him sharply.
"Are you on any of the interest lists?"
"The suspected persons list? No," he countered. "I'm not even on OZ's...your radar. Just one of the thousands of nameless ex-generals who won't fight anymore."
Walker nodded. He wasn't sure what to say to an Alliance brigadier general who had resigned on his behalf before 'Daybreak'. "How is civilian life treating you?" he tried.
"Not that badly. Lot of time to spend with my grandchildren, they're young enough that anything entertains them. I suppose I have no right to complain when a hundred-thousand lieutenants, captains and majors are going to either starve to death or resort to banditry."
OZ is not the formal successor to the Alliance, Walker thought. It's not our responsibility to ensure sergeants and captains get their pensions. That's up to the national governments now. "Hopefully, there's enough goodwill in the countries on Earth to ensure their livelihood."
Bonaparte rolled his eyes and spat back a coarse response. "Don't play the part of fool, Walker, it doesn't serve you well. Tell me, was it worth it? Right now, Outer Space is in open warfare. Xinjiang, Utah, Afghanistan, Haiti, they've all become Alliance fiefdoms!"
"And whose fault is that?" Walker asked.
Bonaparte stared at him and sighed. "Well put," he told him gruffly. The two turned the corner around a hangar. "I didn't come here to argue politics with you, Walker."
"I didn't think so, sir."
Bonaparte stopped, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Walker, for what you did at Corsica. For saving the lives of more than a hundred Alliance officers and soldiers, and one brigadier general." He heaved a sigh. "There, I've said it."
"Well, thank you, sir," Walker told him, less dramatically.
"For what?"
Walker blinked. Bonaparte had no idea. "For ensuring that the research data survived the Gundams' attack."
"What is it with you Zodiacs and your precious research data?" Bonaparte asked incredulously. "Were you really willing to give your life for some…data?"
"Among other things, yes, sir," Walker told him truthfully.
The two men stared at each other for a few seconds longer. "Now what will we do?" Bonaparte asked, looking away.
"I'm not sure myself, sir. The future's still going to be...difficult." That seemed like a safe answer.
"Of course. Despite your politics, Walker, you have an uncanny knack for being right." Bonaparte turned back to Walker to see the younger man holding a hand out, and he shook it.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Brigadier General…"
"Not anymore. Never again," Bonaparte told him hoarsely, shaking his hand.
"…for your vote of confidence, Citizen Bonaparte," Walker corrected himself. He put his hand behind his back.
Bonaparte replaced his civilian cap and began to walk off. "Are you going to space, Lieutenant?"
"Eventually I may, sir."
"Well, when you do, teach those fools who'd dare be kingmakers up there a lesson or two. And kill those goddamn Gundams already!" Bonaparte shouted, throwing one hand into the air.
He took one last look at Walker over his shoulder. "Remember, son, this isn't some aristocratic game. Whether you admit it or not, you've inherited the defense of Earth from the Alliance. You fail, and we'll all suffer for it."
Walker watched Bonaparte slowly make his way back to the jeep, wondering just how 'not badly' he was. Still, he made his point, and Walker wasn't about to forget it. He found his Armstrong motorcycle, donned his goggles and rode back to the dorms.
VI
Kanna was leaning with her back against the ornate mahogany wooden railing, looking over her shoulder at the grand staircase from the lobby into the officer's barracks. When she spotted F/L Walker passing through the lobby and climbing up the stairs, she spat out the toothpick in her mouth and stood at attention.
"Flight Lieutenant!"
He looked up. "'Afternoon, Kanna."
In the common area on the second floor, A. Mazuri was getting on Dac's nerves.
"I'm your comrade, we're in the same squadron. What's the big deal?" Mazuri asked.
"Why do you care?" Dac countered angrily, pushing an ottoman next to the couch with his feet.
"Well, we should get to know each other. It's called 'being friendly', surely you're familiar with this concept?"
Dac groaned loudly as Walker entered, followed by Kanna, who stood straight after slouching to clear the door frame.
"Flight Lieutenant," Mazuri said, standing at ease. Dac acknowledged him with a gesture from the couch. Kanna gave them both an almost comically distasteful look.
"Orders come in, Walker?" Dac asked.
"Not yet. Don't let me interrupt you two," he said, scanning the room rapidly and practically sliding along the wall into a writing desk against the wall facing the window in the common area, taking some sheets of paper in one hand and a pen in the other. He methodically arranged them on the desk, removed his folding cap, then took the pen.
"So what's she like?" Mazuri asked, not missing a beat.
Dac groaned again. "God, I can only imagine what Kenyan military intelligence must be like. She's like me, all right? She's my twin. Imagine me with breasts," he snapped at him, fishing the remote control for the television set out between the couch cushions.
Mazuri raised an eyebrow, as Dac leaned forward and clicked the television on. "And braids. Lots of braids, with beads."
"A blonde hippie chick?" Mazuri offered.
Dac stared at him suspiciously. "How did you know?"
Kanna grinned almost mischievously at Walker and gestured with her hands at her two comrades, as Walker began writing with the pen, not responding. The room grew quiet briefly, as the other three looked at the ranking officer as he scribbled away.
"What are you up to, Walker?"
"Something overdue for my own sister," he admitted. "Speaking of which, Dac, next time you call your sister, please give her my regards."
Walker continued scribbling away on the desk, leaving the other three to stare at the back of his head. After a minute, Mazuri broke the silence. "What was that about? You know Walker's sister, Walker knows yours?"
Dac looked at Mazuri with a face bearing a surprising amount of disgust.
"What did I say?" Mazuri asked, sounding genuinely surprised, while Kanna just stared at them, confused.
VII
F/L Ogasawara entered the busy command-and-control room at Diekirch, now in use by OZ's General Staff, where she approached Lieutenant Colonel Une. Stopping in front of Lady Une, she saluted sharply.
Une didn't return the gesture. "Ogasawara, you're here. I take it you've drafted your battle plan for the operation?"
"Yes, ma'am." Ogasawara presented her with a folder. "These are the units I'm requesting."
"You'll get all the units you need," Une said, taking the folder and setting it on a nearby console. She opened the folder, looked at the contents for a second before signing them with a pen. She closed the folder and held it in an extended arm in Ogasawara's direction. The F/L glanced left and right, before reaching forward and taking the folder.
"Thank you. The First Recon Battalion is still extremely under strength..." Ogasawara began, referencing the new name of the Alliance's Special Mobile Suit Recon Battalion. Une stood up and wandered back to the the large hemispherical display in the middle of the room.
"Don't bore me with the details, Lieutenant. Just make it work."
"Yes…ma'am." So you're not going to resolve the battalion's strength issues. Ogasawara turned to see Noin taking a seat at one of the computer stations.
"Ogasawara, if there's nothing else, I suggest you get your mobile suits on a carrier and go."
Ogasawara saluted promptly, spun on one boot and exited the command-and-control room, as Noin watched her enviously.
Author's Notes:
As you probably know, Gundam Wing has a lot of narration, both from the principal narrator, and from the internal and external dialog of various characters. I'd like to imagine Soldier of OZ plays out something like the series does, albeit with different sensibilities—I'll leave it to the reader to imagine which sections are being read out by an all-knowing, omniscient narrator.
Additionally, if you read Chapter 7 (part 8) before 5-7-12, you may want to read the fifth section again—I made corrections concerning the order of events (the fall of the Sanc Kingdom and Otto's death, after Zech's revenge in the Luxembourg siege, not the other way around), and added a scene with Walker and Zechs to help explain. It's not too shabby, if I may say so myself. The final section is also slightly modified to explain that Luxembourg fell very shortly after Daybreak began.
Likewise, I've added a bit of 'narration' to the Chapter 1 (not the prologue), embracing the sheer narration-ness of Wing. With all these modifications, I'm not certain when the next chapter will be uploaded, this one took longer than expected (finished grading final exams, whew), but I really suspect the 'Losers' manga will chance the rather crucial scene in the next episode. Namely, just like Darlian's death was modified (and improved to simply make more sense), I suspect Une's use of the Alliance missile batteries will be different too.
Whatever the case, look forward to more highspeed Aries action!
Last thoughts: does this the final scene pass the Bechdel Test? I think so!