There's a story of a wolf
Who knew no enemy too fair
He always minded to himself
And never crossed the path of care
But the world became his plight
And that wolf put up a fight
But now he's gone
And no one can say
No one can say to where
The hum of electronics and the activity outside was muted through the heavily armored cockpit, a dark shell lit only by status lights and reflected off of a polarized visor. Huffs and hisses as cables are disconnected and systems are primed, the rattle of shells being loaded into either of the 70mm head vulcans, and finally, silence. A whining ping as a comms channel opens up and sheds more light on the white suited figure inside, and a screen shows a woman in a federation officer's garb, the thin white line of an ensign on her collar.
"Luna Control to Gundam Starburst, preparations complete for test sortie. Second mobile suit readying on catapult two. Callsign for your test will be Darkstar. Proceed to power up and standby for launch commands. Control out." With the order given, the cable connected to the base of the helmet he wore buzzed, power flowing through it, and then finally, ice flowing through his mind as the neural link was established. Three pings and another whine, before the reactor hummed to life, winding up like a turbine and filling the mobile suit with power. Armored plates shifted and passed over each other as the rigid mech was given life, the arms bending and the legs bringing it into a low crouch, hunched forward over the catapult's launch bar and ready to rocket out of the open hangar. Inside, the dark shell lit up, cameras all over the mech powering on and giving a full 360 degree view of the outside in real time. Switches flipped, combinations of controls were pressed, and the Heads Up Display in the pilot's visor showed multiple diagnostics running. Six fin funnels hung from two hangars mounted to the Starburst's backpack, as well as two long tubes filled with propellant. Armored plates on the back of the calves and the rear skirts opened up, revealing high powered vernier thrusters, already giving off enough heat to make the air waver.
Inside, with all preparations complete, the pilot spoke up. "Luna Control, Callsign Darkstar ready to launch. Connect me with the second suit as soon as they're ready."
"Don't forget to activate WOLF." A man slid out from his hiding spot near the ensign perched nearby. But he was not in Federation uniform - instead, bearing a coat with the Anaheim Electronics logo. He was obviously a pencil neck, with glasses and short hair. Darkstar had met with the scientist - Dr. Everdred - a day prior to introduce the young pilot to a new, experimental AI. The thing he spoke of was WOLF - Weapons Operation and Logistical Frame. Perhaps it said something about the developer of the AI, but it spoke with a feminine voice and had a rather mild personality. But it was meant to help Darkstar, and hopefully others, with all the different weapon systems found on Mobile Suits.
"Systems online." A small, translucent picture appeared on the heads up display - a very stylized wolf tucked away in one corner. Darkstar's new battle partner made herself apparent. "She's going to learn by watching you!" Everdred shouted after a beat.
Green eyes locked on to the man bearing the logo of the company that had created the machine. It wasn't his first mobile suit test, but it was the first of a Gundam type. Was it going to be like this with every new launch of the Starburst? A small price to pay.
"Roger, powering on AI." Flicking a few more switches, an additional launch screen started up, going through BIOS and another boot cycle, but it was quick, with the new system's name appearing on the HUD that covered the cockpit shell's interior. Another chime sounded in his ears and the voice followed soon after, a wolf icon appearing in the corner of his HUD.
"Darkstar confirms AI startup, systems green." His voice was level and contained, as if it was merely another day on the job. Testing experimental mobile suits was too complicated and there was too much that could fail during any given test launch. A malfunction in thrusters, an electrical issue, OS failures, the list went on. The less he stressed about those, the better. Nerves wouldn't help anybody here, most certainly not him and his new "companion." The ensign responded next, eyes glancing down at her console and the multitude of screens giving reports on the different teams that were readying the suit.
"Catapult pressurized, launch bar connected, all nonessential personnel prepare for Starburst launch. Clear blast shield and standby for launch." Behind the Starburst, a massive plate in the floor slowly rose up, slanting and readying to dispel the massive blast of hot exhaust that the thrusters would put out when it was launched. With it making its way to its ready position, engineers and technicians flooded away from it, like ants away from a fire started by a child with a magnifying glass. With the final steps ready, the ensign gave the order.
"Starburst, launch when ready."
Putting his hand to the thruster control bar, his feet angling forward on the pedals, Darkstar throttled up, fire jumping from the vernier thrusters in the backpack and the ankles. "Gundam Starburst, John Morgan, launching." With that, the launch bar shuttled forward rapidly, the Gundam being carried along with it, before it reached the edge of the catapult that extended out of the decompressed hangar bay and into the non-existent atmosphere over Luna. He was quick to gain control, the Gundam settling into easy flight over the barren surface on the dark side of the moon.
"We're connecting you with our pilot now." Everdred spoke over the comm line next, though the nervousness didn't leave his voice. In the corner of Morgan's eye, he could see the avatar of the AI watching him, tail wagging with one frame of animation like an old game on an LCD screen… at least it wasn't intrusive.
"She came out of the Federation Academy with top marks, so don't underestimate her." The scientist chimed in. Across the dark, flat plane of the moon Darkstar could have spotted an Anaheim craft – some sort of Pegasus-class assault carrier. But with the ship hidden in the shadow of a crater, it was hard to tell what kind it was exactly, but it didn't matter. Morgan saw a mobile suit approach, catching the low atmospheric light around them. Another small screen in the Starburst's cockpit appeared, showing the pilot of the other mobile suit. Though it was somewhat difficult to see her packed into a normal suit, he could at least spot that the other pilot was a woman his age, with rounded features and rather rowdy looking short dark hair. When they drew closer, Darkstar could see that the suit had a v-fin, but wasn't a Gundam proper. He perhaps knew of its cousins, the Silver Bullet or the Döven Wolf, on battlefields or in ships elsewhere, but this one had a different colour scheme; white with pops of red and navy.
"Hi there," The pilot greeted him playfully, giving Morgan a small salute from the top of her visor. "My callsign for this operation is Eight Hearts. Looks like we're going to hang out."
The AI system highlighted the oncoming suit with a translucent rectangle. "Files are indicating that this mobile suit is the ARX-014P Silver Bullet (Funnel Test Type)." WOLF told him.
The new window opening up, showing the magnified image of the Silver Bullet launching from the interior of the Pegasus, caught the man's eyes, and he hummed in acknowledgment. "Roger Eight Hearts, keep me safe from rogue asteroids and we'll get along fine," he spoke, voice showing only a tinge of amusement through his calm demeanor. It wasn't a mobile suit he had ever seen before, but hearing its name from WOLF was an improvement over trying to visually identify at a glance. Being able to cross reference a database in an instant based on silhouettes or other identifying features would easily show its value during combat or recon scenarios. If the AI did nothing else, that would be worth it alone for first strike capabilities. But that wasn't the point.
He keyed his comm again, both to the ensign at base and to the other pilot. "Gundam Starburst, steer point one reached. Switching to steer point two and preparing for exit vector on the Keller Cloud," he called, referencing the group of asteroids caught in a low geosynchronous orbit that was typically used for such test runs. The suit's mobility was one of the primary factors, to test and see if such a heavy mobile suit would live up to its predecessor.
The ensign responded without missing a beat. "Copy Starburst, Steer point one reached, logging time. Minovsky particle density reported as low, radar signature on screen. Link up with pilot Eight Hearts and prepare for testing phase one, she'll be your escort on this run just in case of any issues, as well as running a few tests for Anaheim proper. Report in upon reaching next steer point. Base command, out." With his orders cut and his partner coming into range, he glanced over, watching the new mobile suit glinting in the Pegasus' running lights and backlit by its own thruster cones.
"They figured I'd need a babysitter, huh?" He spoke on the radio to the other pilot, deciding they'd have twenty minutes until steer point two at this rate. He might as well get to know his new partner.
The Silver Bullet kept up with him easily, and it seemed that Everdred's assessment was correct – Eight Hearts looked very relaxed behind the controls of her Mobile Suit. Maybe even a little too relaxed as she had flipped her visor up to wipe a tissue along the cheeks and the bridge of her nose. "Anaheim's just concerned about their toys." said the other pilot.
"Multiple archival news sources have shown that mobile suits from Anaheim Electronics have been stolen over the course of the last four decades." WOLF informed them both. The synthetic voice made the other pilot blink in surprise, as it was over the open comms channel.
Eight Hearts closed her visor. "I didn't think we'd be testing so much crap today." She chuckled. "Point taken."
"You're aware of this unit?" WOLF questioned. Below, her avatar tilted its head and a small question mark flashed over her ears. The Silver Bullet's pilot let out another small laugh, flashing her teeth in a somewhat dopey grin. "I know about a lot that goes on inside Anaheim."
Darkstar raised his eyebrows before dropping them again, as if acknowledging it all as if it was another day on the job. "Guess they've got every right to be concerned then. Plenty of hardware getting captured and reverse engineered must have made for a lot of gray hairs over the years." His eyes flickered up to the small avatar, a hint of a smile coming to his face at the question mark hovering over the wolf icon. It was amusing in a way, whether or not it meant to be. Still, at least it wasn't a distraction for him, and it seemed to offer more than intelligence. Was it self aware in a sense, then? It wasn't the question to ask during the test phase. There would likely be plenty more down the line. "So, you've got an in with Anaheim enough to know about their top secret mobile suit, and you're escorting it on its test run to make sure nothing else tries to grab it. Been with them a while then?" She was likely involved in either of the first two Neo-Zeon rebellions in some way or another to get enough experience to fly as a top Annaheim test pilot. There was a wealth of information there alone, but whether it was need to know or not was out of his purview.
"So I wasn't told about what your bosses want to do with your new robot." Eight Heart's gaze adjusted to the middle distance, looking ahead to how Luna stretched out in space. "I was only told to keep an eye on you - you two." She corrected herself, her gaze sliding back to the Gundam. "But I'm down for whatever."
"Whatever shouldn't involve damaging the Starburst." Everdred cautioned in their ears.
The other pilot clucked her tongue. "Damn, I wish they gave us paint rounds. Then we could have thrown hands."
"Sounds good enough to me. I don't think paint rounds would work all that nicely in comparison to the sim testing gear, but our corporate overlords aren't interested in letting us attempt a mock battle here." A chuckle. He knew the Anaheim rep was listening, but a pencil pusher with knowledge on how a suit would work didn't mean that they would be competent in running the suit to its limits to judge what it was capable of. Even then, Gundam types always seemed to have a little bit extra under their hood, either due to pilots in particular or a built in last resort that always came at the right time. "As long as you don't decide to smash me into an asteroid face first, I think we'll be alright. I don't know if you could take me in the Starburst," he teased, a hint of challenge in his voice. After years of piloting mass production types, the Starburst felt new and powerful, smooth and responsive, as if it was like controlling a second skin compared to a prosthetic arm or leg.
"I know Gundams are monsters." Eight Hearts replied - rising a little further from Luna's surface. The moon loosened its grip on her. "I guess it would be more for me - just to see how long I could stand up against one. These Silver Bullets have a few other tricks up their sleeves and I'd be wondering if I could at least outcorner you for a bit." She looked up and around - glancing up to debris in space.
"You could try some skeet shooting, maybe. I've got some grenades on me." She flicked her gaze aside to her own UI, assumedly, as Darkstar couldn't see the other pilot look at anything in the distance. "Anaheim is offering some dummies for target practice, too. Just inflatable decoys though."
"Yeah? What kinda tricks does it have hidden away? It looks like they just strapped a Gundam head to another mobile suit, but I don't know much about their black projects. All they let me see is the Starburst so far. This test goes well though, we might be able to see." He flicked a set of switches on the suit, rerouting power from the reactor and into the weapons systems. "Weapons powering up. WOLF, keep an eye on power fluctuations, see what kind of output we get at mil power. Record each new addition and switch between the different profiles, log the best output you record, and set up power curves. Make it easier on me." The channel remained open as he gave the orders to the AI. He would see what exactly it could do. A weapons and logistics AI should have no problem tracking power curves that even green Federation pilots go do. What mattered was how accurate and efficient it was. Switching into an attack profile, the large beam rifle in the Starburst's right hand was given a targeting reticle on the HUD, already jittering across multiple long range radar contacts, tracking their movements with ease. "Found the targeting dummies. Think you can hit them from here, Eight Hearts? Show me what you got."
"Understood." The tiny canine avatar rolled over once before standing at attention. If anything, the cartoon was at least slightly amusing.
Above were four dummies, painted to look like GMs. Without any further prompting from Darkstar, the Silver Bullet took off in a tight spiral toward them. With short bursts of beam rifle fire, she disposed of two in one shot. But she was followed afterward by the sharp crack of a much smaller funnel-like weapon. It was on a remotely guided wire that fired from the back of the Silver Bullet, eliminating two more dummies in short succession just after the mobile suit. It was like watching a carefully choreographed ribbon dance. When done, Eight Hearts regained her posture, and her maneuver had taken about eight seconds. From far away, the Pegasus-class ship launched more dummies. "Your turn." The other pilot told him.
The Starburst's angular features, almost arrogant in the way the head's armor sloped back and the collar armor was formed, shifted to follow the Silver Bullet. "Impressive work." Multiple flares from the Pegasus in its cratered hiding place went up, rocket boosters transporting the decoys to the shooting zone. A shield was attached to the Starburst's left arm, around the wrist, and it rotated 180 degrees to place the long edge up towards the shoulder armor. A small section of the wrist armor split, revealing a modular four-barrel gatling cannon for close-in defense, augmenting the twin vulcans in the head. When the decoys had reached their places, he gave the order to WOLF to be ready.
"Begin power monitoring." With his orders out, he started doing what he was best at. Like the catapult launch, jets of flame erupted from the back and ankle mounted vernier thrusters. The beam rifle was up, snapshotting one of the GM decoys and causing it to explode with a well placed shot that pierced the cockpit block. Two fin funnels shot from the hangars, unconnected by wires like the Silver Bullet's. Portions of the inner frame started to glow slightly, far more subdued than previous mobile suits equipped with a psychoframe. Still, despite testing previously, it was less than ideal for the pilot as of yet, and the funnels flew in a sloppy manner. They were far from perfect under his control, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the wave of nausea that came up.
Still, it went off well enough, with one of the funnels missing at first, before the other one blew off an arm, and then a glancing blow at the cockpit, before it blew up as well and he recalled the fins with a grunt, finally relaxing a bit when they settled back into place. The other two were destroyed by another beam rifle shot, and the beam vulcan in the left arm stitching holes across the final GM before it detonated as well. "That might have been a mistake..." He muttered, frowning as he felt sweat beading on his forehead. Testing was never anywhere close to the real thing, and even a relatively hardened pilot would feel the strain with a new psycho frame system.
"That looked tough." Eight Hearts admitted with a small shrug. She had been waiting well out of range. The pilot in her cockpit was leaning back in her seat, fingers laced on her midsection.
"...Analysis complete." WOLF informed him, the avatar having returned its normal, idle stance. "Feel free to recreate the experiment for different results."
A grimace passed over his face, and he huffed, shaking his head. "I don't think I will, WOLF. Feel free to analyze all you want, though." He was decidedly not going to employ the fin funnels any more while trying to control the rest of the suit. If possible, he was going to recommend WOLF be given control of them in some way until the pilot could ease into using them. The interface port that had been surgically added to the base of his skull made the connections possible, but it was almost like trying to use telekinesis. It almost felt like what he expected to be phantom limb syndrome. "You're gonna have to get one of these for yourself, so I can see how you react to it," he teased the other pilot, feeling a small headache starting to form. "Not my best work, but it'll do. We're still a couple hundred miles from steer point two, when we get there, we can start mobility testing."
"Would it work for someone like me?" Eight Hearts questioned, starting the thrusters on her Silver Bullet so that they could move to point two. "I don't have a port, nor am I a newtype - I've only been in space very recently." She explained, looking at Darkstar sidelong through her own monitor. WOLF's avatar lay down at the bottom of the 360 monitor, waiting and watching.
"It worked for me, it should work for you too," he responded. It wasn't the best way to go about things, but with some experience and acclimatization, it would increase his chance of surviving and winning. That was what mattered the most, and if it gave him or others an edge over any more Zeon remnants popping up like cockroaches, he'd take it every time. Shifting his gaze, he glanced down at his controls, pulling up the power curve screen that had been set and seeing WOLF had done good work, and he nodded to himself. "Impressive work," he said, almost as an aside to the wolf avatar. "I might have to ke-" He was cut off by a voice from the comms, and frowned.
"Break break break, Darkstar, Eight Hearts, sensors report abnormal readings in the surrounding area. Unknown cause. Continue as normal, but be prepared for a sudden cancellation if we pick anything up. Stay alert, command out." The voice was gone as soon as it had come in, and his frown deepened.
"Eight Hearts, you heard 'em. Eyes and ears open. WOLF, monitor the battle net and keep me apprised of anything out of the ordinary. Anything happens, I wanna know."
The other pilot had pressed her helmet to her ear - listening to a comm channel that Darkstar wasn't a part of. But she had a satisfied smirk on her face from the news. "Apparently there's some girls on the Anaheim ship who are ready to jump in if we're in trouble." She told him, speeding up her fight.
"Disturbance could be caused by Minovsky Particle dispersal." WOLF informed him, though she had nothing to highlight. Her avatar was appropriately sniffing the space around it. Alongside him, he could see two wire guided weapons rise out of the Silver Bullet's back again, though verniers kept the false funnels in place, facing backward, instead of flopping about.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Girls on the Anaheim ship, huh? At least help ain't but a skip and a hop away, I guess. Emissions control is open, try and get through the particles as best you can, but be ready for anything. I don't know how somebody would know about a test like this, but they've done it in the past. They both knew who they were, it was always just a different shade of villainy, as history had pointed out plenty of times already. "We know if the Anaheim ship has any of the Jesta EWACs on board? Now might be the time to deploy it," he called out to Eight Hearts. "If anyone would know, it'd be you, I guess." Whatever readings command had gotten a minute ago wasn't anything he could see. Minovsky Particles were in the AO, like always. A little denser than expected, but well within tolerable levels. If command had been calling about an abnormality, it wouldn't be over a standard level of what amounted to little more than ambient scanner noise at this point. "WOLF, check other sensor readings, go through the list. Put that nose of yours to work while we're still enroute. ETA, five minutes, if you haven't found anything by then, we'll carry on. Otherwise, we book it back to base." Already, the beam rifle was humming with energy, his shield rotated back the proper direction and ready to absorb a hit from the front.
"Requesting back up - I want Sundance Shot in the air with us." Eight Hearts demanded into her own comm systems, despite the fact that Darkstar wasn't privvy to the other end.
"Unable to parse abnormal energy levels from this location." The AI droned, stopping all her movements.
"Could be a reflection of something." Eight Hearts guessed aloud, her hand as close to her chin as she could get it with her helmet on. While unable to detect what was out there, WOLF's functions indicated that two other Mobile Suits had left the Anaheim owned craft; they were indeed a pair of Jestas, barely visible against the dark void of space.
New radar warnings had him glance over, getting information from the datalink provided by the Anaheim ship and the Silver Bullet. Too much interference would white out even the datalink, but for now it was easy enough to pick apart from the chaff. "Better to have backup than not," he muttered into his comm. "WOLF, keep scanning, focus on that for the time being. Switching FCS combat profile to high tempo configuration, prepping for propellant tank jettison. Eight Hearts, you have any problems, let me know. I'll cover you if you need it, you can do the same for me. Unless there's an army out here, we should be able to get out if we get jumped. It was true, both of them were good pilots. They had to be to get put in the position they were in, and while he had only seen a piece of her skills, to wipe out multiple targets as quick as she had was a good sign. While his eyes continued to scan for any other FCS lockons, he spoke into the comm again. "New contacts just jumped into the black. Friends of yours?" The datalink was showing the symbol that indicated friendly contacts, but the more he knew the better.
"Yep. Sundance Shot and Buster." Eight Hearts replied, though her gaze flicked to the pair of Jestas momentarily anyways. "Sounds good to me."
"Nice to meet you." Two more screens appeared in the corner of his cockpit. They showed a middle aged woman who had obvious age lines on her face - though she wasn't decrepit, and a young man who had rather rounded features.
"Better safe than sorry." The woman - Sundance Shot, as the UI pointed out. "If we break any of Everdred's toys, we'll not hear the end of it. We're here to back you up."
"Feels good to be out anyway." Buster said with a small shrug. The Anaheim pilots all spoke with such casualness and familiarity - more like they were siblings rather than in the same unit.
"Recommending that you raise altitude from Luna's surface as a safety precaution." said WOLF, with a rising note to her synthesized voice. Though it sounded less like she was concerned, more like the speech part of her programming simply talked faster to ape some sense of worry.
"Roger, IFF confirm, glad to have you two with us. The more the merrier when the shooting starts. Outnumbered, it's a shooting gallery. We outnumber them, that just means I get hazard pay and come home alive. Keep my paint job nice and pretty and we'll all go home happy, yeah?" A hint of a smile crossed his face, but his eyes remained serious, scanning the HUD for any contacts that were less friendly than the two pilots that were burning to form up with them. WOLF's recommendation didn't go unheard though.
"Base, Starburst."
"Starburst, go for base."
"Altering flight plan, we're gonna step off from the surface a ways, get a 20 mile buffer in case of attack. I don't wanna be leaving a lunar fantail either."
"Copy, Starburst. Base out." Pulling the Starburst's angle of attack up, he started powering away from the moon's surface. As far as he could see, no ships were in the area, civilian or otherwise, save for the Pegasus that was obviously friendly. If nothing else, long range missile defense would be good. "What do you think about it, WOLF? Gimme your opinion."
"Unusual readings are in the debris above us." She told him. As if in response, all three Anaheim pilots looked up. And the Silver Bullet followed the trail.
"That's a tough one," Eight Hearts admitted. She took another message from her own ship. "Copy that. Sunny, Buster, you're with me." She gestured with one hand, swirling her fingers. "Copy that." Sundance Shot echoed. The Jestas trailed after them, though they kept their distance relative to the Starburst and the Silver Bullet.
"Unusual is always bad in an unknown environment. It didn't just come floating out of nowhere, or the base would have picked it up sooner. With the Pegasus and base, there shouldn't be any blind spots." With unusual readings, he was right. Unknown anomalies, especially during a testing phase, were bad. Either they were never before seen, or something was going on to scramble the sensors. The Starburst could be forgiven, untested as it was, and the Silver Bullet maybe, but fooling tried and true Jestas and other dedicated sensors was a little more unexpected. "Eight Hearts, you've got the 9 to 1 slice of real estate, keep scanning. I'll take 11 to 3. Sunny, Buster, trail behind us and do the same. If we miss something and you have a contact, take the shot, ask questions later. I'd rather we all go home than take a chance and get cored by something sitting out in the middle of nowhere." Already, his eyes were scanning, his sensors overlaying multiple information blocks and reference types, switching back and forth between normal and infrared camera settings, but he couldn't see anything. Minovsky Particles were rising, though, the closer they got.
"All Victors, be advised. Minovsky Particle density increasing, we'll be flying blind at this rate. Other than covering the Starburst, you three have autonomy to act as needed. I don't know your fighting style enough to lead you like that."
"Who do you think it is?" Buster asked. Thankfully he sounded more serious than he did moments ago. He was the last to leave Luna.
"Shh." Sundance silenced him. Even Eight Hearts, who had been fairly chatty, stopped.
"Advance further." WOLF's icon raised one leg and thrust her nose forward, like a sighthound. "Testing will be unable to continue without proper assessment."
"Advancing into the debris field, set proximity alarm to 20 meters." He was cold and methodical at the stick now, speaking only what was needed, one eye on his sensor panels and the other on his velocity readouts. Multiple large pieces of debris floated past, left over from the multiple space conflicts that had occurred throughout the years. The hulk of a burned out, broken cruiser floated by, forever cold. Asteroids were filling some of the empty spaces, with plenty of room to maneuver, but little to actively fight in. Radar was nearly unusable in their position, and the data link was giving false contact reports or whiting out anything that could be identified. Even friendly contributors to the data link system were fluctuating. Cutting it off to make things easier, he hummed. Nothing could be seen visually. "WOLF, scan using the camera system, IR overlay. See if there are any heat signatures hiding in here."
The other pilots waited silently, as all of them traveled through the zone. Eight Hearts shifted around a piece of rubble with an old Zeon logo peeling off of it. "Heat signature detected." WOLF replied, before highlighting the hull of a particularly large freighter that looked like it had been smashed in half, decades ago.
Green eyes locked onto the cargo freighter, broken in half amidships and scorched over, the paintjob burned off by cosmic rays after spending so long as a derelict. "Contact, heat sig in the freighter. Careful not to get too close. Surround it." Changing his comm channel, he switched to the command net, but with all the debris and Minovsky Particles in the AO, it would be hard to do either traditional or tightbeam laser comms. Whatever got through would have to suffice. "Base, Starburst." The voice that came through was filled with interference, static covering whatever was said. "-...rburst, read y… - ...ference." He frowned. "Found a heat signature in one of the freighters. Moving to investigate. Out." Switching back to the group net, he kept his eyes on the freighter, noticing another Zeon sigil on it. Whatever was in there was an unknown. Why it was so close to Luna, he didn't know, but something about it felt… off. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and his gut told him that he shouldn't have any part of this. He trusted both of those instincts, but something else was in there. Uncertainty. Glancing between the freighter and other pieces of debris, he saw something else painted on, something unfamiliar. "...New U.N. Spacey? What the hell? WOLF, scan that debris, cross reference civilian and military databanks. Rest of you, what have we got?"
"The vessel is a Gwadan-class battleship. Last fielded in UC0087." The date was indicated to be the Gryps Conflict - not as bloody or as far-reaching as the One Year War. But it was a grim reminder of how any military system; even one from Earth could become corrupted. Famously, Earth's elite unit at the time, the Titans, were notoriously reckless with civilians in particular, eventually going rogue far before Laplace's Incident. The one benefit of the interference was that he could only barely hear Everdred's voice and his concerns over what the small team was now investigating. If he glanced over to the other pilots in his peripheral vision (Wolf had rendered their video feeds to have less opacity, so he could see through them) he could also see they were uncomfortable. But the Silver Bullet advanced; and it made sense, as Eight Hearts had a near 360 degree range with her weapons.
"Be ready," She instructed the other three.
"Standing by." His response was clipped, the shield on his arm shifting to cover the majority of the mobile suit's core while he looked through the notch at the top, the green lights backlighting the Starburst's eyes clashing against the white material and the red warning label that had been painted on. The beam rifle hummed with concealed power, but none of them heard it in the vacuum of space. "Something starts feeling wrong, displace and we'll pour fire on the thing."
He'd see the Jestas had both done the same with their own, somewhat smaller shields - though WOLF cautioned him that both of the escort suits were armed with two tube missile systems. It would be best to stay far away from them, at least for now. "Haven't made contact with anything yet," Eight Hearts told the group, the old Gwadan class ship swallowing her up.
The Jestas would do well in case of a retreat, at least to begin with. They had been designed as escort suits for a much faster mobile suit with a limited endurance. They'd be more than up to the task of dealing with anything that came out, especially when supported by the Starburst. If he had to use the fin funnels though, they'd need to retreat rather than risk it. Maneuvering thrusters fired every so often, keeping him close enough to the hulk to be ready to open fire if need be and cover the Silver Bullet, but that was if things went to hell faster than they could deal with it. "Rog, keep us posted. Heat sig is a bit deeper into the ship, but I've got you on the scope. Another two hundred meters and you'll be on top of it. What are you seeing inside?"
Morgan would feel a different sensation flash through him. It wasn't the usual strain or nausea that came from using his suit. He felt a deep pressure, but only heard his own breathing through his head and the gurgling and shifting of his organs vibrating through his body. He was left in a void, but he was not alone, feeling a second entity shift in his headspace. And he knew it was WOLF. And she was pointing him to the deepest part of the hull, something dangerous was laying in wait at the nose of the vessel. He felt as if he was looking through the eyes of another and his body moved itself, pulling back on the controls of his suit. Or rather, the suit pushed back against him. The suit moved backward of its own accord. A massive beam ripped through the air, lighting up the space in bright white and orange in a wide-firing arc.
Eight Hearts was nearly clipped out of the air, freewheeling backward as the top of her suit's right shoulder was burnt. Both Jestas moved back from the blast. One of Buster's legs was ripped off due to his slowness, the entire limb disintegrating in the light. If the Starburst hadn't moved, the beam would have decapitated it. Not a fatality for a Gundam, but certainly an inconvenience. A massive suit jumped from its hiding spot, boasting a grey colour scheme and pointed edges, as well as massive shoulders.
"Suit appears to be Qubeley type." WOLF told him, as all three of the Anaheim suits lay down suppressing fire for only a few seconds. An obscene amount of funnels exited the enemy suit's shoulders like bees escaping a hive, which shot straight down. It was as if this new suit were trying to catch them in a cage as shots from the funnels rained down on them from above. "Move." The AI urged him.
The sudden change in perspective, and hearing his own internals nearly on the same level as the rhythmic beating of his heart, sent a wave of nausea that felt different. It was if his entire equilibrium had been thrown off, and he fought the urge to screw his eyes shut and fight it off. Loss of visual on the battlefield was a death sentence, and judging by what had happened, the battlefield had come to them. Multiple beams of orange and white pierced through the freighter's hull, and the Starburst jerked back without him touching the controls, and this new state of consciousness seemed to fade away slowly, the sounds of his body falling away save for the thunder of his heartbeat and the blood rushing through his ears. Adrenaline surged and he quickly took action, his eyes struggling to see through the sudden polarization of his visor as the cameras were nearly whited out by the power of the incoming beams. Shots rained down upon the Anaheim force, multiple fin funnels shooting out from the Qubeley and attempting to encircle them. But finally, his body seemed to come back to him, allowing his own instincts and reflexes to take over. His breathing had flared, but now it was calming back down, and he forced himself back into the mindset he needed. The Starburst's vernier thrusters flared, sending him to the right, the beam rifle in his grip coming up and tracking the Qubeley, firing three times before the head mounted vulcans opened up, sparks going up across the Qubeley's chest armor as rounds shattered or were deflected by the armor's slope and thickness. Massive propellant tanks on the Starburst's backpack were jettisoned, pressurized charges blasting them away as they hurtled back towards Luna's surface. "Status report! Who's still up?" He called, still firing at the Qubeley, which seemed to be dodging each shot with little effort as the newest prototype Gundam tried to shoot it down.
"I don't need a leg to fight!" Buster told him. "We're fine," Eight Hearts said, as her own wired funnels sniped the Qubeley's funnels – though it was rather impotent. She would aim her fire on the Qubeley next. The grey suit itself blasted out of the way of most fire, not using its own weapons again, instead relying on the sheer volley of funnels. But lights could be seen at the core and the back of the machine. WOLF flashed warnings about beam cannons as they readying to fire with an overlay.
"You heard her, get out!" The Silver Bullet's pilot shoved Buster outside of the hull entirely – peppering the Jesta's shield with more shots. With one leg down, Buster couldn't outmaneuver another beam shot. But moving itself would be difficult with the funnels in place as they were.
Proximity alarms continued to blare in the Starburst's cockpit, debris passing by on all sides as he maneuvered in an attempt to dodge some more fire from the funnels. The beam rifle shifted, shooting another one of the funnels down and ripping pieces off before it detonated. Another followed soon after, hit by the head vulcans. "It's not using its suit mounted weapons, just the funnels! We keep the funnels down, we might have a chance at taking it out or capturing it!" He called out to the rest, grunting as he forced the Gundam through its paces. It seemed like far too often, Gundams ended up getting caught up in a battle some way or another on testing runs, or even before that. Days of training, manuals, and familiarity with the basis of the OS were the only reason he was likely able to pilot the thing at all. A funnel's shot hit his shield, glancing off but leaving a large black streak where the fire had been absorbed or deflected. A grimace. Shields wouldn't last for long against a concentrated attack. The longer they fought, the worse their chances would be. "Eight Hearts, pass Buster off to Sundance, your mobile suit is the best we have. WOLF, look for other patterns in its fighting style!" The charge up of the beam cannons on the Qubeley was a bad sign, and he started moving more erratically in an attempt to get out of the projected field of fire. Shifting his beam rifle, he fired again, attempting to hit one of the cannons that was built into the enemy mobile suit.
The Qubeley raised a claw-like limb, blocking the shot from hitting its cannon. It left a shallow, black gash behind. Both Jestas slipped from the Gwadan's hull. Less targets, but now it was just the Starburst and the Silver Bullet. "We'll relay back to the ships." Sundance told them, before she descended with Buster in tow. "Expect support ASAP."
"Qubeley pilot is refusing to engage directly. Best course of action is melee." WOLF said, pointing out through the UI that the stiff limbs of the other machine were not as mobile as their own suits. "Can you get me in close?" Eight Hearts asked Darkstar, glancing at him sidelong.
"Light out, fast as you can. We'll hold it off as long as possible." He grit his teeth, ejecting one of the beam swords stored in the mobile suit's left forearm. The hilt shot out, and was grabbed quickly, the shield rotating to offer a more protective forward defense while still enabling the beam saber to act offensively. "If you think we can take it, let's move. I'll lead the way in, keep your funnels up as long as you can to try and draw fire or keep it on the defensive." He pushed the throttle bar up, the massive thrusters in the backpack of the Starburst igniting and shooting out a large cone of blue flame, the Starburst launching forward and leading the way, bright red paint scheme catching the light of the sun through the debris field.
Eight Hearts spiraled out – though she didn't draw her beam saber. She instead withdrew her wired funnels, pulling them back into the verniers on her back. But she instead armed her hands like a boxer. "I can hold it, but if you can cut off whatever holds its funnels, do it." Eight Hearts told him, dodging funnel fire. On cue, WOLF highlighted the shoulders – as well as a sort of 'tail' that held funnels on the Qubeley's back skirt.
When they closed in, the cannon fired – though with such a slow start-up that was so obvious, it was easy to outmaneuver. The Silver Bullet entered the same tight spiral that Eight Hearts did during the training exercise, but then shot out its hands. Darkstar could see Eight Hearts press forward on her controls and grunt. The hands of the Silver Bullet itself were on wires, like the funnels, but had a larger and stronger set of cables which entangled the Qubeley's arms and torso, crossing them over the cannon. Not that the mobile suit seemed highly maneuverable, but it tried to move – to no avail.
His opening was clear, and the Starburst continued to accelerate as the calve thrusters added their force to the forward motion. Darkstar grunted against the G-forces that were pressing him into his seat, despite the features in the mobile suit that were supposed to counter such a thing, and he continued to dodge debris and funnel fire alike. The funnels seemed to focus more on him the closer he got, until he was spiraling through the cloud of rapidly growing debris, pieces being shorn off of larger chunks and filling the area. The Quebeley grew larger in his sights, and the beam saber in the Starburst's left hand ignited in a flash of pink. Another shot hit the shield, and tore off a piece of the bottom, but it didn't slow the Starburst down. More fire came in, some impacting against the shoulders and the skirt armor, until he had closed enough to get a shot at the Qubeley. Without slowing down, he inputted a series of control inputs that had the beam saber flick right as the two mobile suits nearly collided, and one of the large shoulder pieces was shorn from its housing. The other followed soon after, but more fin funnels pushed the Starburst back, firing until one pierced the beam rifle in his hand. Throwing it away as soon as he could, it detonated, and he rushed forward to hit the tail, ripping it apart as another fin funnel hit the Starburst in the shoulder. But with the funnel housing destroyed, they seemed to stop moving. He held the blade ready, in a position to sink it into the Qubeley at a moment's notice. "Funnels neutralized. We killing it or capturing it?"
"…I think we should keep it." Eight Hearts gave a rowdy kick to a small cluster of the Qubeley's funnels. "I'm going to try and tow it. Make sure it doesn't do anything funny." The Silver Bullet slung its legs forward, moving back – extracting the Qubeley from its hiding spot. Eight Hearts flicked something in her cockpit. "I don't know if you can hear me, but if you do anything funny I'll fry you, then this Gundam will shoot through the cockpit." She told the pilot, to no response at all.
"Rog, we'll take it home with us then." Frowning, he glanced off in the direction they'd come from. The Pegasus that had deployed the Silver Bullet and the two Jestas was likely already on its way, but he couldn't see it. If they could just get out of this interference, things would be easier. He kept his beam saber ignited, the tip of it barely a few meters from the cockpit block that housed whoever was piloting this thing. The cannons were still operational, but they wouldn't be able to charge up without being noticed and neutralized. "WOLF, can you get anything out of scans on this thing?"
"… Pilot is unresponsive but alive. Seems to be suffering from shock. Only judging by internal cockpit temperatures and brainwaves." WOLF explained. "Unable to find affiliation."
"Zeons used this sort of shit." Eight Hearts glanced over at the mobile suit. Though her assessment was correct, the particular Qubeley had no emblems on it at all. "And – correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that many funnels break your brain?" She looked aside to Darkstar on her monitor, blinking.
The AI responded right away. "That assessment would be correct."
"Starburst, Silver Bullet, we have back up inbound." An unfamiliar voice told him. Looking down, he'd see a Jesta accompanied by a pair of Stark Jagans – one of which was armed with massive missile pods. "Copy that. Threat's been neutralized – I hope." Eight Hearts replied.
"Let's get this thing back to the Purpleton." WOLF highlighted Anaheim's ship below.
The slightly damaged Starburst looked down, and Darkstar felt some relief at the incoming reinforcements below, especially the Jagan with the massive missile pods. If nothing else, it'd be able to saturate an enemy with fire. Reorienting to meet up with the reinforcements, he started to throttle up, just enough to keep him close at hand, when something else happened. A powerful force slammed into the Starburst, rocking the pilot within, but there had been no collision alarms, no incoming alert, nothing.
"What the hell?" Looking out to the right, he saw the Qubeley and the Silver Bullet had both been rocked by the same thing, and the Silver Bullet was flailing trying to keep the Qubeley in check. Another impact and he felt himself flatten against the pilot's seat, this time the Starburst struggling to maintain orientation.
"Something's happening! WOLF, what's going on!?" Another impact, and suddenly a massive flash covered his cameras, whiting out the interior of the pod and forcing his hands off the controls to cover his eyes. The polarization on the visor wasn't enough to stop it, and after a few moments, the light faded, leaving the emptiness of space in front of him. His eyes adjusted slowly, pupils dilating as fast as they could. Off to his right, the Silver Bullet and Qubeley remained just as they had been, but there was no more debris, and the Minovsky Particle interference had subsided to nothingness almost. Below, Luna was gone, as were their reinforcements.
The only thing that came to his mind now was "Ah, shit."
WOLF had just enough time to say, "U̵n̴s̶u̶r̷e̸.̶" In a crackling tone, before they were all hit with the wave.
In the corner of his vision, he could see Eight Hearts bounce in her seat - she was not a very large woman. "Luna has vanished." WOLF's alarm indicators went off, trying to read energy and heat signatures, desperately trying to find something that wasn't just space or debris.
"... I hope you have long range communications." Eight Hearts shook her head slightly, eyes still wide in surprise.
The Starburst had lost power, mostly. The reactor was still running and providing life support, sensors, and more, but the engines were dead. They were drifting. He saw Eight Hearts was still alive and breathing in her seat, but with that, he went to work on getting power back, only to frown. "That's if there's anything to contact left. Output has spun down to around 13%, reactor providing power, but there's a problem out here. I should still have fuel left..." A quick check and his frown deepened. "I do, but the verniers are dead. Something's going on, and I don't like it. Status on the Silver Bullet?" He continued to look around, trying to get his bearings. Earth was gone, and Luna was as well, but there was no massive debris cloud, no fire or damnation, nothing. It was as if they had been dropped into deep space, far from anything they knew. The sun, or a star like it, blazed in the distance. Star charts would be needed at this rate, and he hoped WOLF had them.
"I can move. Not for long, though. And I'd only be able to get anywhere if I let the Qubeley go." Eight Hearts told the other pilot. She put up her visor, as if it were going to let her see her UI better. "… No response from anything shortwave."
She sighed. "What the hell…"
WOLF highlighted a small square in the corner of John's vision – the wide, sweeping beam of ship weapons. Small pink explosions. There was a battle in the distance.
He was about to respond to his new partner, when the HUD revealed the battle that must have been raging in the distance. "Contact, long range. Anti-ship scale weaponry from the looks of it. Beam weaponry, missiles maybe." His datalink was functioning now, and he was picking up ultra-longrange contacts, just barely on the edge of his scope, but even battleship sized contacts would be minuscule at this range. "WOLF, long range sensors are up. Do you think you can get power to the vernier thrusters?" Not only were they dead in the water, somewhere other than where they'd been a minute before, and a battle was going on in the distance between unknown parties. There were no broadcasts of Federation IFF at the moment either. Worse still, they had a hanger on, an enemy that they could leave here to die, or take with them and possibly suffer further issues down the line. This wasn't how he wanted his testing work to go.
"Yes. Please link with the Silver Bullet. Having both suits active will tow the Qubeley with little resistance." WOLF instructed. Eight Hearts offered her arm, as if they were to enter the most awkward, mech-laden dance they could possibly do, seeing as her hands were literally full. The battle was too far to communicate where they were, but it was a shot at least.
The suit jolted a bit, the maneuvering thrusters getting some power as the reactor spiked to 20% output, but the weapons were forced offline. If they were engaged, it would be a turkey shoot. "Roger, but we're gonna be shit out of luck if whatever we find isn't friendly." The little power that could be supplied to the thrusters was enough for them to move, and he latched onto the stub arm to drag the Silver Bullet along. The Qubeley remained still, as if it had shut down at some point, and he glanced back every so often to make sure it was. "We don't have much of a choice. Activating distress signal now on all channels. If we get picked up, at least we won't suffocate." It was a macabre thought, but now required a realist's point of view.
Drawing closer, it was a mobile suit fight – a rather one-sided one by a quick glance. Some sort of Argama class assault carrier was full broadside firing some sort of other ship; one that Wolf didn't identify right away. Though she had an answer for the green and black shape being peppered with fire from the other ship; an Endra-class cruiser, though a small overlay showed that it had not been used since before the Laplace Incident. Likely when Darkstar was still in flight school.
"-Unknown units, please identify yourselves immediately." A broad range communication opened up to them – and WOLF identified it as being a Federation signal, coming from the Argama. "Are you in distress?"
He glanced up at the box holding Eight Hearts' communications channel, and locked eyes with her through the feed, before he keyed his mic and went to respond. "This is Lieutenant Commander John Morgan of the Earth Federation Space Force, Mobile Special Weapons Command." He paused, unsure of how to go on. The signal overlay WOLF was laying on the HUD identified it as Federation, of course, and the ship's silhouette was familiar enough, but secrecy and half truths were the name of the game for the Test and Acquisitions Division, not to mention how much black ink there was on the Silver Bullet and its pilot, or the Qubeley they were towing. "We are moving under our own power but we've suffered superficial damage and have a neutralized Qubeley with us. Requesting assistance." The comms shut off, and he listened for a reply. He wasn't sure about this, or where it could go, but he'd have to watch the Starburst like a hawk when they got in, to make sure nothing happened to it. If anything did, it would be his ass over the fire.
"I-" The operator started, but a click interrupted him; they were being spoken over.
"Permission to land on the Nahel Argama granted." A stronger voice replied. "Keep your weapons cold." He warned. "Transmitting landing coordinates now."
Lights leading up to the ship – the Nahel Argama – shone among the smaller battlefield to guide them up to the hangar. Thankfully the Endra-class ship was pulling away, with significant holes peppered along the hull. It looked like the Nahel Argama wasn't going to give chase, but kept up its firing volley. Above, a GM looked down at the strange menagerie of mobile suits as they limped onward.
"Understood, Nahel Argama, vector logged, inbound now." Darkstar replied quickly, eyes tracking the GM that floated above them. He hadn't seen a GM in some time, and the older models were relegated to mobile workers at this point, or decoy targets during testing much like what they had been in the process of earlier. An alarm bell went off, but he didn't recognize what it was immediately. "Come on, we're getting a warm welcome. Weapons cold unless we wanna get shot down for real," he spoke to Eight Hearts. "They didn't have any problem fighting off that Endra, they'll make short work of us too if we step too hard. How are your systems? Have they recovered any yet?" The distance was already closing, albeit slowly, but the landing lights were flashing against the dark void of space, a welcoming target for the two pilots that would find out they were only just beginning to get caught up in a shitstorm.
Eight Hearts only nodded a reply to them, as they were offered a net to catch their Qubeley. It was only then that the Silver Bullet let go. "Exit your suits immediately." They were ordered by the same voice. It was somewhat familiar, an older man. But whoever was giving them orders had not introduced himself. Once they had landed, and their cockpits finally opened – they'd find a whole squad of officers, full suits, with guns trained on them. A particularly large man with a lieutenant's insignia on his normal suit made a gesture. "Turn around, we're going to restrain you for now until we can assess you." He instructed in a neutral tone. Around him… Morgan couldn't see the familiar suits that were often found in Federation Ships. Sure, he'd spot a Jaegen, but nothing else seemed standard. There was some large Gundam-like thing in a nearly blinding gold colour resting beside a pair of legs that possibly looked like it could belong to a Gundam. Eight Hearts was compliant. She had removed her helmet and left it in the Silver Bullet's cockpit, showing that her hair seemed to be self-cut and somewhat fluffy and dark.
He mentally cursed as they both landed, following the neutralized Qubeley into the hangar bay and stepped into cradles that would hold them. He was forced to leave the Starburst outside of a launch cradle, due to the massive fin hangers that hung off of its shoulders. At least the propellant tanks were gone. Before he opened the cockpit, he gave WOLF one more command. "I'm going to cooperate with them. You aren't. Lockdown the OS after I've left, and don't unlock it until I've returned, understood?" he watched the small Wolf avatar cock its head slightly, a question mark hovering over it for a second, before it lay down and curled up into a small ball, as if going to sleep. At least she would do as she was told. Unplugging the neural interface cable from the back of his helmet, and then the helmet's cable from his own neural interface port, he stepped out of the cockpit. His shaved head showed the smallest amount of stubble, but the rest of his angular face scanned over the crew in front of him. Lowering to the ground on the disembarking cable that ran from just inside the cockpit, he held one hand in the air, until he stepped over and raised the other hand to show he wasn't armed. He complied easily enough, catching Eight Hearts' eyes as he turned, before he looked back up at the Starburst's eyes. Now, they were more WOLF's eyes than the mobile suit's, but he hoped this wouldn't go badly.
They were both patted down for weapons, and Eight Hearts had a small side arm that the officers took away, before they were ushered out of the hangar. Both were led to an elevator with the entourage – ascending further into the ship itself. It held some familiarity with that of Londo Bell's craft but something just seemed off; it seemed older. The handles that sped them along the hallways just had an older aesthetic, as did the walls, and doors, painted with harsher pastels and accented with chrome. They were led into an obvious interrogation room with sparse furniture and reinforced walls, where there were even more personnel. One was a rather hawkish-looking man with a thinning hairline and a full beard – he was in a commanding officer uniform. Another was a woman in a medic's uniform, with blond hair and striking blue eyes. While her face was rather youthful, she had a sort of sharper edge to her. Her eyes made a telltale zig-zag across both Darkstar and Eight Hearts.
"I didn't catch your identification." The bearded man said, looking to the second pilot in particular. "I'm Bright Noa – CO of this ship. And this is Sayla Mass, our medic." He glanced to the blonde, whose expression softened slightly.
"May Igarashi, I'm a test pilot for Anaheim Electronics, sir." Eight Hearts told him.
Noa pinched his brow. "Explain yourselves."
Darkstar heard the name Bright Noa and frowned almost instinctively before looking over at Eight Hearts – May – and meeting her eyes. Without much to say that wouldn't be heard, he got right into it. "We were testing new tech for Anaheim, a joint venture between the EFSF and AE. Her mobile suit was acting as an escort for mine, as well as its own testing routine. We were moving through the test when we got a signal from a debris field over Luna. We engaged the damaged Qubeley there and sustained damage of our own. Reinforcements came to support us, but something happened, a bright flash of light, and all of a sudden Luna and our reinforcements were gone and we had suffered power loss. Now, here we are." He fidgeted slightly, the backs of his eyes hurting after being disconnected from the Starburst. It felt like they were strained, but there was nothing he could do short of hoping this blew over quickly and finding some pain killers. It was still new, and he wasn't entirely used to it, having been given the augmentation a month before but not being able to properly use it until today. Simulations were never as good as the real thing.
He could see the gears turn - quickly - behind Noa's dark, beady eyes. "Are funnels a widely used construct with your team?" He asked next, without allowing a beat to pass. Morgan could see Mass lean in slightly, her posture becoming rigid.
"Uhhh, it's tech we've picked at - in Anaheim Labs. But it's been around for a bit." Igarashi admitted through gritted teeth.
"...How many times is this going to happen?" Noa ran his hands down his face with a sigh. "I have an explanation for you. But you're not going to believe me."
Green eyes passed over Mass, narrowing slightly as her posture changed, but he didn't say anything. Igarashi's answer had him looking at her, and then finally back to Noa. Apparently, he was the least informed in the room, something that he was far from used to with a higher than top secret clearance and the rank to request whatever he didn't know. But that was neither here nor there, and he went on as Bright finished. "Respectfully, I don't know what to believe anymore as it is. Aren't you supposed to be on the Ra Cailum right now? Seems like a bit of a downgrade to get put back on the Argama, isn't it? Besides, if you have an explanation for us, you already know more than either of us do." His initial response spiked Morgan's curiosity though. What was this and how many times had it happened already? The questions seemed to keep giving way to more and more questions.
"You're the second person to tell me that I need to be on a different ship." He replied sharply. Igarashi's brow raised in concern. "Are you familiar with subspacial tears in the fabric of spacetime?" Noa continued, folding his hands on his lap. He didn't wait for an answer. "They're best described as large multidimensional tears in reality that often appear as beams of light. Although, they sometimes use wavelengths beyond the spectrum of Oldtypes. You mentioned a beam of light hitting you. That was a tear in the fabric of reality as you likely understand it. It allowed you to traverse from where you were, through multiple planes of similar realities, to this location. You seem to be Federation aligned at least." His gaze settled on Morgan in particular.
"You're in UC088. This is the First Neo Zeon War."
Morgan's face soured at that. "Son of a bitch."