Chapter 20

U.C. 0094.3.9 2031 EOST

EFSF Side Headquarters, Londenion Colony, Side 1.

"Konpei HQ is breathing down my neck, Captain Noa. At least give me something of substance to report back." The bespectacled woman broke decorum and sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. "My department is under enough scrutiny as it is without say-nothing reports being handed at this particular moment."

Captain, though he was mostly referred to by his brevet rank, Bright Noa was not fooled. While what stood before his desk may look like a mild-mannered desk jockey, her entire appearance curtailed to adhere perfectly to regulations from the polish of her boots to the edge of the committee approved female hairstyle, it was not a normal woman. The viper that had wandered into Bright's metaphorical garden was nothing less than a member of the Earth Federation Space Forces Intelligence Agency, Konpei Island Division. A Viper among vipers as it were.

"Unfortunately Agent Blythe, Londo Bell's own investigation into the attack is still ongoing and all pertinent information is classified until I had briefed the Joint Chiefs on the matter. After which they will, I imagine, disseminate the relevant information as they deem necessary." Bright unfolded his hands. "So what you've been given will be all that you get for now. Dismissed." He didn't give the viper a chance to protest, using his rank to send her on her way. The green haired menace managed not to shed her false skin, despite the displeasure she must have felt at Bright's continued defiance of her and her kind's wishes.

Did they think Bright was an idiot? That he wouldn't know what they had done, these self-obsessed organizations drunk on their own invented self importance?

What they had covered up?

Bright Noa wasn't the low ranked but well-known war veteran he had been after 0079 until the Gryps War. He had been the leader of the AEUG in the desperate days of the First Neo Zeon War and had negotiated the creation of a new Titans style task force out of the Federation leadership: Londo Bell. With the powers and privileges that came with being the replacement for the Titans in the EFF hierarchy came the kind of codeword clearance Bright had thought was only the remit of bad fiction.

So he knew, in horrifyingly lurid detail, just how much collaboration there had been between the Titans and the SFIA. The exact details of SFIA operations that had the sole purpose of covering up the latest massacre or use of a bioweapon Titan units had perpetrated. He also knew the 'favors' had been repaid by the Titans. Wetwork missions on behalf of the SFIA, FMI, and EFFI that Bright, cross referencing with over EFF archives, discovered hadn't been officially sanctioned.

While the Titans had been running rampant over the people of the Federation in a physical way, the Federations Intelligence Community has been running rampant over the people's rights. Unprecedented invasions of privacy and information gathering in the name of 'uncovering Zeon sympathizers' in space and on Earth. To Bright's eyes, these 'Zeon sympathizers' looked a lot like journalists and whistleblowers that sounded the alarm on the abuses they had uncovered.

Didn't save them a visit from the Titans though.

So Bright Noa was glad to see the back of another snake cloaked in uniform. But he wasn't satisfied, not by a long shot. The crimes of the complicient agencies would be brought into the light of the public eye and into the courts. The people Bright has sworn to protect would be protected from threats both foreign and domestic, that was the purpose of Londo Bell. That was what he and Amuro had set out to build together.

In a way, the tragedies of the Second Neo Zeon War had been a boon to Londo Bell. They were now taken seriously among the rest of the military. They were the foremost authority on fighting Neo Zeon. On the other hand, it seemed that everyone expected Bright to know just what Neo Zeon was planning at any given moment.

Bright knew how to combat the maniacs. Not why they did what they did.

He punched in a passcode on his computer, bringing back up video files that only he and the Joint Chiefs had unlimited access to. The now familiar video captures of green warships and green mobile suits blowing away doomed Federation vessels flashed across the screen.

"Why would they risk an all out attack on the Moon of all places?" Bright wondered. Outside of the occupation during the One Year War, Zeon had barely paid Earth's satellite any attention. So why break that trend now, so soon after the type of defeat that the Axis Drop had been for them?

Bright didn't have a clue as to why, but the thirty strong band of men and women who worked for Londo Bell's Intelligence and Analysis Company (therefore they worked for Bright) did have some working theories.

One, which was obvious to Bright, was that this was a 'show the flag' operation. Neo Zeon had suffered losses but they weren't going anywhere. This would explain the use of M-particle missiles to mask the low numbers they had. Bright thought it fit with some of what Neo Zeon had done during their assault but to say that this was done to mask their low strength was a stretch in his opinion. They obviously had enough ships and mobile suits to simultaneously assault four major Lunar cities with Minovsky particles and enough to engage and destroy the EFSF Lunar Patrol Fleet.

A few more theories had been thought up: Neo Zeon needed supplies, so it was one big supply raid. They didn't need supplies but more manpower, so this had been one big recruitment drive or a pickup for forces that had been underground on the Moon. Those obviously weren't the case because being low on either would have prevented an assault on the Moon from happening.

Yet the assault had happened, though Bright's overworked I&A Company preferred to call the operation a blitz on account of the fast pace of the attack.

The theory that the company had developed that felt more solid to them and Bright revolved around a series of rabble rousing speeches and videos that had been broadcasted over the Moon in the days before the attack. The broadcasts seemed to have been one time affairs, so Bright's people hadn't been able to intercept a rebroadcast in the aftermath of the attack. But there was graffiti and rioters on the Moon that had struck at unpopular, and Earth based, shipping companies during the attack itself who had been chanting slogans. And the Remnants on Earth had been very quick on the uptake following the attack, launching strikes of their own before the media blackout on Earth regarding the lunar attack had been lifted.

They had been informed beforehand. The attack on the Moon wasn't a desperate gamble by Neo Zeon. Was it the first move in a renewed offensive against the Federation? Was it meant to put the fear of Zeon back into Federation citizens? Or just a stark statement that they weren't done wreaking unimaginable havoc on humanity, that the worst was yet to come?

Bright's thoughts danced back to the terrorist organizations Londo Bell had engaged in the days before Char had revealed himself again. Was this a repeat of those months?

He wanted a smoke. But he had also promised his wife he would stop smoking and Bright was away from home enough these days without spending the one's he did have with his family in the doghouse for picking the bad habit back up again.

He hummed to himself. The pieces of the reason, or reasons, behind the attack on the Moon were all there before him. Given just a bit longer and they would coalesce into a picture he could take before his superiors and give to his captains. Why their enemy was acting the way they were and what they would or might do next. The information was desperately needed so that Bright could lose his hunting dogs from their leashes.

But….Bright Noa couldn't help but feel like a crucial piece of the puzzle before him was missing. And he couldn't shake the notion that this missing piece wouldn't just be put together by his men.

Something was being hidden from him, something that was preventing Londo Bell from doing their mission.

Bright Noa was going to get to the bottom of this, one way or another.

He activated the intercom to his secretary. "Sarah, get Colonel Kajima on the line. I have a mission for him."

U.C. 0094.3.10

The Garden of Thorns, Loum Debris Field, L4

Angelo Sauper was having both a good day and a bad one, simultaneously.

It was a good day because he had finally managed to make free time in his schedule so that he could celebrate becoming an ace. An hour or two for him to just think for a bit about his new life and what would come next. To ponder an offer that had been made to him while having a drink of lemonade. Angelo Sauper had enough alcohol for a lifetime already in his short life.

It was a bad day because he was not alone. Angelo was being haunted. He was being harassed. He was being nagged to death. Angelo Sauper was accompanied -more like she had ambushed him on his way over- by Luger Lugh.

Angelo audibly sighed into his lemonade. What he wouldn't give for a spontaneous combat drill right. Or a hull breach. Anything to get him away from all of the downright infectious cheerfulness Luger always seemed to be giving off.

Was it so wrong that he wanted to brood? He glanced around the bar, which was really just a few repurposed metal crates pushed together to form a long flat surface, smaller crates to act as stools and a beige tarp stretched across the ceiling to give the impression that they weren't in a maintenance closet. Tomorrow it would be reassembled in a completely different location, its composite pieces having followed the work crews. Their very own traveling bar.

It wasn't a bad locale to brood. So why not brood?

Angelo took it as a bad sign that he had needed to state that thought in his mind instead of just doing it. Was he just upset that he couldn't indulge in a familiar habit, because there was nothing to brood about?

Yep. Angelo groaned. When had life gotten so damned better for him? Sure the work sucked and the battles were stressful beyond belief and the less said about the 'food' the better, but Angelo wasn't so great a fool that he couldn't look beyond little physical uncomforts to see the larger picture of his new life. '

This life of action and danger and boredom was far, far more preferable than the life of a five dollar gigolo boy-whore on the Moon.

"Well you seem to be having fun!" Angelo was startled back into the real world. The unnatural, in his opinion, cheerfulness meant that Luger had crept her way back to him. Thankfully it didn't look like she had brought the part with her.

"I've never seen you look this relaxed before!" Luger chirped at him Cheerfully of course, because the woman didn't have any default emotion besides cheerful. "Guess even you can't withstand the power of the end of a days' hard work."

Angelo couldn't suppress the scowl that broke out when he looked and saw that he had unconsciously schooled his body into a welcoming stance. A pose of sorts to draw people in through selling the illusion that Angelo was a willing and intriguing conversationalist, after which the talk would transition to 'talk' of a different kind.

He moved into a more closed off position, mainly just hunching over a bit and squaring his shoulders. But Luger had already seen his previous stance.

"I was feeling relaxed, then you came along and that feeling seems to have vanished." Angelo sneered. It obviously wasn't a good one because Luger just rolled her mismatched eyes in a 'what can you do' manner.

"Riiight. Well look who I found!" She snaked an arm out and, as if by magic, pulled a person out of thin air. Well not thin air, but to Angelo it looked like the man, who upon closer examination was more boy than man, from before had been caught trying to sneak away. Angelo pitied the boy but also felt that he was foolish. Luger knew when someone was trying to escape her socialization.

"And am I supposed to be impressed that you've pulled a twink out of thin air?" Angelo drawled, deciding that if he was going to be subjected to 'friendship', he would get to be as nasty as he could get away with. Serves the damn twink right, imposing on Angelo's friendship suffering.

No wait. He didn't enjoy these damnit!

"Rude~!" Luger teased him.

"Don't mind Angelo here" She addressed the fish caught on her hook. "He really is a swell fella once you break through that eighties action movie hero exterior."

"You would know what those look like Luger, considering they're the only company you could ever get when you're lonely.." Angelo sniped.

Luger just smirked and flipped her pink hair at his words. Angelo furrowed his brows and wonderedif some rotgut had been slipped into his lemonade. He was usually better at this. Even the twink with the bowl cut hair seemed to agree and he was the one wandering around base with a bowl cut!

"Bah." Angelo dismissed the entire conversation with a harsh flick of his hand. "Sit down then Luger."

"Hmm," Luger spoke in a mock-thoughtful manner. "Usually it takes a lot more than that for you to meet your grumpiness quota."

"I do not have a 'grumpiness quota."

"Yeaaah you do." The happy wink she added just made Angelo's suffering worse. It would take him days of socializing to even the score between them now. The thought made him shudder. As the auburn hair, bowl cut twink -Angelo didn't really care to learn the moron's name- took his seat, the practically ancient stereo that someone had dug out of somewhere crackled to life and began to blare out roaring drums and thrashing guitars.

"Oh sons of Side 3!"

"They really need to find more songs." The interloper opined, now drinking from his own cup of dubiously sourced alcohol. He might be right but Angelo was loath to agree with anyone he didn't know. So he didn't.

Angelo mockingly toasted the stereo. "Oh I don't know. You can really begin to feel the rage after the twentieth consecutive repeat. Makes me eager to take part in Operation British myself."

"If it's against this band then I'm right with you." The twink -who definitely wasn't starting to grow on Angelo, like a fungus- muttered.

"Who are you again?" He asked waspishly. Usually Luger was all about him meeting new people. She should have already told Angelo the twink's first, middle and last name; along with a dozen or so facts about favorite books, sports or music tastes. Maybe even fashion if she thought Angelo needed to be reminded that so-called normal people didn't go around wearing neon latex crop tops of their own free will. Angelo mentally sighed again. That was unworthy of him, again. The hard work and long hours of monotony must be getting him more than he had thought.

"Column of oppression rising from Earth,"

"Colonies writhe, the Sides die,"

"Sovereign sides, from deep within the skies,"

"Fight for freedom, beheld in a roving Zaku's eye!"

"He's Zechst Ade." Luger told him. Before tapping a finger on her chin. "You would know that if… you'd read the briefing Angelo."

"What briefing?" Angelo asked.

"Ya know, the one from yester… no, two days ago. It was sent electronically. Sent from the desk of the Supreme Commander?" Luger dragged out the end, seemingly waiting for Angelo to remember what she was referring to.

"From Zeon we shall fight, our future's shining bright,"

"You feddies listen well, resistance we will quell,"

"Across the starry sea, we "spacenoids" shall be free!"

"I spent the last three days digging around the lower levels with the crews trying to restore power generation. Barely used any electronics." Angelo sloshed his lemonade in the cheap cup. "Too great a risk of an EM pulse frying anything that wasn't hardened."

Some of those generators had not been in good condition. Then Angelo's thoughts froze as what Luger had said caught up with him.

"From the desk of Fu-the Supreme Commander?"

Luger, and even Zechst Ade, nodded.

"Here," She said, taking out and handing him a pad. "It's all there. Everyone got the same version."

Angelo didn't bother to disguise his eagerness, snatching the pad out of Luger's hand. He devoured the words and felt a rising wave of eagerness begin to build despite the tiredness of his body.

"We fall from the stars, we of the new Master Race, born in outer space…"

"The cosmic wind of war shall blow again, crashing down upon the Federation,"

"We will fight until we're free, or we're dead!"

"I'm in." Angelo flippantly tossed the pad back to Luger. "My version is on my computer you say?"

"You can't be serious?! You didn't even read the entire thing!"

It wasn't Luger who interjected at his words, she probably knew Angelo too well at this point and wasn't that a bother. It was the bowl cut boy, who Angelo would probably have to start referring to as Zechst, Zechst Ade, or Ade in his head if he didn't want to use the nickname in conversation by mistake. Angelo would hate to have that happen. His insults must always be deliberate in their usage.

"I mean it's a complete transfer to a new unit, one that hasn't even existed until now. You'd be leaving behind all the established teamwork of your old squad and have to learn it all over again with people you don't know! Everyone's combat effectiveness is going to go drastically down and then we're all going to be punished and then teamwork is going to be impossible and!" The twink -no one said Angelo had to start not insulting him right this instant- stifled his outpour with a gulp of rotgut before moving to stare into the murky liquid. Even Angelo couldn't ignore the lines of stress on the twink's face.

"Welllll so much for that." Luger leaned up against him. "Angelo, I brought him over here to try to get him, ya know, not be like this."

Angelo dully stared at the eternally cheerful woman.

"Right, it's you. Eh, always worth a shot." She nudged his flank with her elbow. "But hey! You're transferring over to the squad! That's great, I thought I wouldn't know anyone else over there but now that you're going I'll have a familiar face or two!" Here she pointed at the twink with her thumb.

Angelo wanted to point out that being known associates with someone as weak as this Zechst Ade, who managed to be both mentally and physically weak at the same time, would only put Luger at a major disadvantage when she was jockeying in the new hierarchy she found herself in. Even if Lieutenant Cruz being a member did offset any prestige loss among the official hierarchy of Neo Zeon. Her actions in Operation Left Hook had become the subject of a few tall tales told in mobile bars like this one.

Then Angelo thought that maybe since he was joining the same new unit as Luger, it wasn't in his best interest to inform her of that. All the better for Angelo to rise up the hierarchy in the unit if the social butterfly wasn't working her magic and was focused on the twink. Then Angelo remembered what that annoying doctor had told him: manipulating people like he had done during his stint at the whorehouse was a bad thing, both for Angelo's state of mind and the people around Angelo.

So Angelo just nodded in agreement with Luger's enthusiastic statement. Then he looked at the nerve wracked form of the twink with a bowl cut.

This was a Newtype? Those warriors of myths and legends that even whores in the dank underbelly of the Moon heard tales of?

It was fine. Not his problem, really. Luger could handle it and the twink would be back to whatever passed for his normally pathetic self by tomorrow.

…

But what if he wasn't? He would make Angelo look bad in Full Frontal's eyes. The most important being in Angelo's mind would think less of him if he wasn't surrounded by the best. If he felt that Angelo wasn't living up to his full potential.

But what would Full Frontal do in this situation?

Angelo Sauper knew what his idol would do, and it wasn't what Angelo Sauper of the past would have done but maybe it would be what the better Angelo Sauper of the future would do.

He had to inspire the twink to stop being a twink.

Angelo knew he couldn't match the awesome charisma of Full Frontal but this pathetic pilot didn't need, wasn't worthy of the Supreme Commander's personal words.

"Hey Ade." Angelo called out. "Do you know why you're going to accept the transfer and join the newtype unit the Supreme Commander is making?"

Zechst Ade jerked out of his funk, looking over at Angelo, who realized he had resumed his 'lounging' pose from earlier. Even bubbly Luger was looking at Angelo curiously.

"But I haven't.."

"You're going to join," Angelo cut the wimp off. "Because the Supreme Commander has decided that you should be a part of the unit."

"But.."

"Shut up." Angelo growled. He was starting to get offended by the twink's pathetic attitude. "Are you a member of Neo Zeon?"

"Wha-"

"Answer. The. Question."

"Yes." A confused answer.

"Did you swear the same oath that I did?" Angelo asked. "Did you speak the words of eternal loyalty to the cause. Of eternal brotherhood with those in uniform?"

"Yes?"

"Did you swear to uphold the chain of command, to obey all the orders of your superiors in the name of the cause of Zeon?"

"Of course, why-"

Angelo brought his hand down hard on the metal box, driven by anger he hadn't felt until now. "Then where is it in that oath where you get to decide what orders you are going to follow?"

The stupid twink opened his stupid mouth to say something very stupid but Angelo wasn't going to stop now that he had started.

"Here's a reminder: it doesn't. But hey, maybe you forgot, so here's a reminder, Ade. You swore to obey all orders, directives and commands that are issued to you, without hesitation or delay. Is what you are currently doing in the spirit of those words?" Angelo hissed. Luckily, for his sake, Ade seemed to be smart enough to not answer the obviously rhetorical question.

"You are sworn to Neo Zeon, Ade. You are sworn to the Supreme Commander." Angelo pointed a finger at Zechst. "Do you think that we're in such a safe position that we can't be pushing for every advantage possible? That one fucking victory and a jail break will win the war?"

"New's flash: it hasn't. We need every pilot to be utilized to the best of their abilities and since you are supposedly a newtype, that means that you can apparently become a great pilot. So why the fuck are you hesitating?

Angelo stood up and moved to jab his index finger into Ade's chest, not that Angelo was paying much attention to his actions.

"Sure, we've got some more bodies now but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that they aren't on our side. Titans, old AEUG, Totoists, Khanists and Zabists are now our bunkmates and I don't trust them as far as I could throw one and neither should you." Angelo could feel his anger growing as the notion of those failed warmongers attempting wrest control of what Full Frontal was building presented itself in his mind's eye.

"They're vultures, Ade. Carrion people trying to desperately reclaim the power they were never worthy of in the first place. We won't allow them to sully, to pollute, what the Supreme Commander is creating. So that means you are going to man up. More precisely, I am going to make you." Angelo did not slam his cup on the bar, he put it down with some force. "I will be at your quarters at 0800 tomorrow, which is when you will accept the Supreme Commander's offer."

Angelo Sauper then left, offering a quick but respectful nod to Luger. His words to Zechst Ade about not allowing their actions to reflect poorly on Full Frontal's leadership were meant for him just as much as they were for Ade. Angelo felt called to follow Full Frontal and he would never cause the Supreme Commander to doubt the effort Full Frontal had put towards saving Angelo.

So there was enough time left in his day for a five kilometer run and a truncated reflex and hand-eye coordination course.

Office of the Supreme Commander

As I looked at the woman standing across from me in my foyer, it was a very big office, I had to admit that nearly a year of supermax prison life and hard labor had done nothing to degrade the beauty of Nanai Miguel. Her long honey blonde locks seemed to have been shorn away during her time in prison and her face could be currently described as a bit gaunt and in need of some quality sleep, but other than those fairly superficial things, she looked just like the pictures.

A classical statue of a goddess brought to life, a modern day Venus. And Char had rejected this? In favor of brooding about Amuro and obsessing over a teenager? What a moron.

Nanai Miguel was the last person I had to meet with before I could put the business of debriefing the various groups Zinnerman had sprung from Diyu to rest. The monumental task of integrating such opposing groups as the Titans and Glemy Toto's Zabi loyalists into my Neo Zeon, or even the new AEUG, was a headache for tomorrow. At the moment I was just pleased to have names to put to faces and a general agreement that nobody was going to start agitating against the informal detente that currently existed.

The fact that I had freed everyone from their respective life sentences undoubtedly gave me leverage.

But the woman in front of me made me nervous. Nanai Miguel was the closest confidante of Char Aznable bar none during Char's Neo Zeon. The woman who helped mastermind the third generation of artificial Newtypes and had been deeply involved in the planning and execution of the Luna Five and Axis Drop operations.

She was the last person alive who might know just what had caused the creation of Full Frontal, of me, and the why's behind it. She could, with a few words, cause my Neo Zeon to self implode. She was an existential threat to my goals if I looked at her one way and an irreplaceable asset if I looked at her another way.

The way she had been looking at me since she came into the foyer didn't soothe my growing nerves either. Her green eyes looked both at me and through me and I couldn't shake the feeling that I should be hearing something right now.

"It seems we have a lot to talk about." I offered, breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen since her entrance.

"Yes," Her voice was smooth, rich and full. It also belied nothing that she might be feeling at my words. "It seems that we do."

A/N: The song I use in the chapter is Sieg Zeon by Children of the Reptile, you can find them on youtube or bandcamp. I do not own it. The full song is pretty good and something I like to listen to when I'm writing battle scenes for this fic.

Angelo Sauper is, of course, Angelo Sauper. A tough character to write but one I think I've made consistent in how I write him. He's about following people rather than causes. He's also lived a very bad life, but that isn't the focus of his involvement in the story. More vulgar in his language than other characters too.