Chapter 11
Strike 1 and 2
"Maybe we are wrong, but if we knew that from the start what's the point of beginning in the first place? The idea is we try what we think works, and when it fails, we start a war I guess"-Chandra Kavanaugh 40AML
Artimis stood in front of a room of 50 fighter pilots and the two remaining Gundam fighters.
"Our mission is to drop the oldest and largest colony on the largest and oldest city on the moon"
A young man with a go tee probably only 19 or 20 stood up. Is this revenge for the attack on Ireland sir?"
"None other and the attack on all the people we've lost in this conflict. Hopefully by tomorrow morning the Soviet Union, the USLA will be completely gone, rid from our galaxy forever. The mission will be risky because of the old reactor on the colony still uses nuclear fission as opposed to helium-3, like all modern ones do. So who ever is in the city and doesn't die in the initial drop will die from the poisoning, and the pilot of any suit in the area will probably suffer a lot of radiation from the assault……regardless, the attack will begin at 12 noon tomorrow when the colony goes past the dark side of the moon, we will be completely invisible to them from that angle, meeting adjourned"
And with that they were off to what could, for another day, be their last day alive. Brian gripped Chandra's hand hard at the thought of a successful mission without Derek. they went off to their little room in the military section, to spend another night questioning if this was a good idea or not, never speaking only thinking together. A constant dim light was all they could count on any more. Yet again they spent another night uneasily laying there until daybreak. This time was different an odd sense of elegancy and urgency like the night the three had flown to Vostok in pure bliss, but now focused, refined like a rock washed smooth by a river.
The two mobile suits left in tandem fallowed by a fleet of space fighters, the old technology versus the old country, the mother land, with the new flying birds.
They flew through fleets of the reds birds, slashing and cutting, firing and dodging, killing, and more killing. Through it all they heard laughing, an odd lost cackling, they saw many good fighters die, and many bad fighters with strokes of good luck. But still that laugh where had they both heard it….All the red birds had been either halved or vaporized by the time they reached it Lumiastan…..the last brick in their road. And there stood atop it, although clearly damaged, the source of the laugh, a Gundam. Gundam Geese, no longer clutching his mace, but a hammer and sickle his bottom half of a soviet bird clearly didn't fit the top, a context to be exploited, two countries fused uneasily, like his teachers far fetched idea back on earth, metric fitting the American standard. This wasn't liquid, it was grease. No longer Gundam geese, Gundam Lost, Painted over the green paint with a quick hasty coat of rusted red. And then strike 2 as the cockpit door swung open and to their horror he stood, hardly visible at this distance, but clearly he showed himself over their monitors their friend, their comrade? Derek.