Side 7, Bunch 1

September 18, UC 0079

0840 Hours

Tem Ray and a few other personnel had taken cover beneath the large truck as the exchange of fire had taken place. Now a totally new development had taken place: the Gundam was standing up.

Unexpected, and far from ideal. It just marched toward the Zaku, still firing off its Vulcans.

The pilot, whoever it was, was complete idiot. What was he thinking?

Finally, the Vulcans stopped firing. He wasted all his ammo.

The Zaku zeroed in on the suit, machine gun ready to rip again.

But then, the Gundam extended its arm and swatted the machine gun out of the Zaku's hand. Then it grabbed the suit's snout-like cooling vent, located on its face, and tore it off like a chunk of bread. The Paris-and-Russian-colored giant went down.

Not ideal, Tem thought, but it works.

In the large hole the floored Zaku originally had emerged from, another could be seen. It seemed to be more focused on spectating than helping fight.

The suit got back up and was attempting to make a run for where his partner was.

The beam saber hilt on the left side of the Gundam's reactor popped out and was wielded. Soon, a large pink blade of energy ignited and with it, the prototype chased down the fleeing Zaku.

The Gundam caught up with it and let loose a great slash into the backside of the suit.

Tem was horrified by the sight. You dumbass! That's the reactor!

The troublesome Zaku went down for good. In his wake came an immense, brilliant explosion.

Next thing Tem knew, the ground around him was crumbling away. He and all the surviving research staff were all sucked out into space.

Amuro felt stupid for aiming for the Zaku's back: he'd forgotten what was there.

The destruction of the enemy suit created another rupture in the bulkhead and he would have gotten dragged out into the vacuum had he not hastily taken cover.

His moment of (relative) ease came to an abrupt end when the Gundam's camera picked up another Zaku charging toward him with a heat hawk! He's only managed to right himself before lunging forward to tackle the oncoming suit.

The second Zaku had dropped the heat hawk thanks to the tackle, but kept trying to fight him unarmed. He got some good hits in.

Amuro frantically tried to come up with a course of action. The bunch wouldn't take a third explosion. If this one blew up, too, whatever air was left in the colony would be gone.

Maybe if he aimed for the cockpit?

He had to be as accurate as possible.

The Zaku came running again and attempted a haymaker.

Amuro turned the beam saber on again.

The abdomen of the mobile suit came down on the tip of the saber's blade and kept falling until it was at the hilt.

The Zaku shorted and crackled. But it didn't explode.

The blade retracted and the suit fell to the ground, no longer moving.

Amuro slumped in the seat and let out a big sigh. That was too close.

"We're clear of the berth," Char announced. "Turn the ship +30!"

The Falmel steadily reoriented her bow until it faced the colony ahead.

"Docking bay at twelve o'clock, Commander!" the tech announced.

Char acknowledged. "Prepare to engage!"

As he said this, an ensign left his station and approached Dren. "Lieutenant, Denim's Zaku has been sunk," he told him. "IFF signal confirmed."

"Him, too?" he asked. "What about Slender?"

"He's escaped and is returning to the ship."

"To think I lost five Zakus on one mission," Char said, grimly. "I'm in hot water with Vice Admiral Dozle." He looked ahead as two missiles sped away from their tubes toward the large bunch in the distance. "It's not easy to admit to the folly of one's youth."

Seconds ticked by, but fiery blooms appeared on the hull of the colony.

"Engine output increased!" the tech announced. "Mega Particle Cannons on standby!"

"Target the space gate," Dren ordered "but don't hit the docking bay!"

The docking bay rocked and everyone on the White Base felt the shudder. It didn't take an astrophysicist to identify the cause.

"So much for the Treaty," Paolo remarked. "We have no choice but to engage." He stood up. "I'll go. Ready a gunboat, Perkins."

"But Captain, that's suicide!" the officer protested. "A gunboat against a Musai?"

Paolo stood firm. "We need to buy some time until the Gundam gets aboard!" He turned to young Bright, nearby. "Lieutenant J. G. Bright, take the bridge until I return."

Bright couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd never been to space before, let alone run a ship, even temporarily.

"Your grades in command training were outstanding," the captain told him.

Bright still couldn't form a full sentence from the sudden order, even though he attempted to object.

"Don't worry," said Paolo, entering the elevator. "It's extremely unlikely that this ship's going to leave port under your command."

The refugees swarmed the docking bay elevator like a mass of a thousand rats. A chain of Federation officers formed a human barrier to keep the panicking crowd back in the terminal.

Fraw Bow had volunteered to assist in loading the trolleys to the docking bay. Katz, Letz, and Kikka, the three children she'd often babysat were among the survivors, but the third child in question was devastated by separation from her mother. "We'll find everyone's mommies soon, okay?" she said, trying to ease the little girl's mind.

Soon, the trolley was off, loaded with nearly forty people of varying ages.

Then came a young woman's voice from near the top of a nearby ladder.

"Hey, Miss! Could you give us a hand in the sick bay? You can at least wrap bandages, right?"

A Star Locust gunboat, emerged from the stern hangar of the White Base.

Captain Paolo had taken the gun turret, ready to bang up that Musai or die trying. "We'll hit them once and pull back," he told the pilot. "We only need to draw their attention."

The tiny craft approached the much larger cruiser, full throttle.

The Zeon vessel sent an appropriate hail: missiles.

Fortunately for Paolo, the gunboat was nimble enough to evade the missiles and reply with some of its own. However, their arc was too shallow to have been able to damage the Musai's keel.

The next option was to hit the bridge with everything they had left. This time, they managed to hit the ship, but wound up getting winged by the enemy anti-air turrets.

The pilot of the boat, a corpulent sergeant looked over his shoulder. "Shit! They hit the port engine," he snarled.

Paolo chuckled, even as the console around him sparked and smoked. "My first command was a torpedo gunboat like this one," he said. "Only back then, they didn't handle nearly so well!"

What the sergeant saw next nearly made him freeze.

Paolo coughed up a bit of blood and it had smeared on his normal suit's visor. "Again," he said, a bit raspy. "This boat can still fly. White Base needs more time."

"No good," the sergeant told him. "We need to get back to the ship. Please hold on, sir!"

The Star Locust haphazardly got back to its hangar. Orderlies and a fire crew, most clad in normal suits, gathered to attend to the stricken craft and captain.

Paolo was removed from the gunboat and onto a stretcher. He faced the young pilot. He defied his orders, but was grateful all the same. "Thank you, Sergeant. What was your name again?"

"Ryu Jose, sir!"

"Take care of the rest: the refugees and the Gundam."

A large ambulance entered the residential sector of Green Noa. The suction from the collapsed bulkheads hadn't stopped, but they'd slowed down enough that it was safe to drive through. Its mission: find all survivors who haven't evacuated.

Fraw Bow and that young woman she'd run into earlier were in it, running the loudspeaker and driving the thing respectively. She was a little older than her; deep blue eyes, shoulder-length lemonade hair. A bit stoic, perhaps, but responsive.

Thus far, they'd managed about fourteen people, before they entered a new neighborhood.

Fraw's neighborhood.

They even passed her now-abandoned house. The memories of her running off to see Amuro or the kids only brought her pain.

Soon, she saw a green ball bounce down a debris-covered hill and across the street, hitting a cement wall.

It couldn't be. Could it?

"Stop the ambulance!" she told the driver.

She hit the breaks and Fraw Bow jumped out.

When she was able to get a good look at it, there was no doubt: it was Haro! Last time she'd seen him, he was with Amuro. Amid all the fighting, they must have gotten separated!

She happily nuzzled the little robot.

"So it's not just a toy, but your friend?" the young woman asked.

"A very good friend," Fraw replied.

The tender reunion was cut short by a gruff voice at the side of the road ahead calling on them to come over.

Fraw climbed back aboard and the ambulance pulled up.

The man was a rough looking person in a leather jacket. "My truck's stuck down there!" he told them. He motioned down the side of the hill, where his buddy was trying to move a ton of sacks and suitcases out of the dead vehicle. "My battery quit. We're in a bit of a rough patch. Would you mind giving us a lift, babe? And our stuff?"

"But-But there's no room all that!" Fraw stuttered. "We're only supposed to pick up injured or trapped people!"

"Oh really?" said the thug, taking her collar. "Here's an idea: you let us take your ride!"

"That's enough!" The woman was outside of the ambulance, brandishing a handgun. "We don't have any room for your stuff," she said, firmly. "Now get your hands off of her immediately."

No sooner did he comply did she fire three bullets into the dirt at his feet. He backed into his partner and they both tumbled down the hill.

"Let's keep moving," she said, barrel smoldering. "Get in."

They kept the search going. As things stood now, those two ruffians would have been done much better left behind with their junk and the dwindling oxygen.

That was how the blonde felt about the whole thing.

By the time the ambulance got to the terminal, they'd recovered twenty refugees, even.

There was a boy there, just loitering around. He rolled his eyes when he saw Fraw Bow unload the ambulance of its human cargo. He didn't even lift a finger, just ran his mouth: "You gettin' in or not?" "C'mon, move it!" "Does the gimp need a lift or what?"

Finally, the quiet driver rushed over to the boy and smacked him across the cheek. "You call yourself a man!? You coward!"

Fraw took notice of the boy: Kai Shiden. The school bad boy and amateur racer.

The young man growled. "The hell's your problem, lady?"

"A smart mouth like that in a situation like this is my problem! I won't take it!" She stormed off.

Fraw approached Kai, still nursing his cheek. "Who is that?"

"That's Sayla," he told her, embittered. "New girl, joined the volunteer med team."

Fraw said nothing. Kai kept complaining as that girl helped support an old woman onto the trolley ahead.

This is Sayla Mass:

The youngest child of Don Teabolo Mass of Andalusia, Spain, she and her brother Edouard had lived on Earth in a castle that had been family property for ages. Under circumstances she refuses to disclose, she and her family left Earth for Side 5. It was there, that the Mass family fell in with the Aznables of the Texas colony.

They had a son, too, Char. He looked exactly like Edouard, but his eyes were brown and not blue.

A few years ago, both men enrolled at a Zeon military academy.

Edouard never made it. The space liner to Zeon exploded out of port. Whether it was an accident or an act of terrorism, Sayla didn't know.

She would never really be the same afterward.

Texas had sustained extensive damage during Loum back in January and had to leave.

Up until now, she had been studying her favorite pastime, medicine, on Side 7.

Paolo had been returned to the bridge and was left on the stretcher. Like he'd promised Bright earlier, the ship wasn't going to leave under the young lieutenant's command. However, the situation wasn't as he wanted it, but his mind was put at ease when he'd learned that the Gundam had reached the elevator on its own. He turned his head to the right, where Bright was standing. "Bright," he said "who's assigned to the Gundam?"

"Lieutenant J. G. William Kemp, sir."

"Contact him," Paolo told him. After sinking two Zakus on his own and getting the prototype to the ship safely, he needed to be commended.

Bright moved over to the communications panel to reach the Gundam and placed the transmission on the main monitor. He was bewildered when he saw that the person in the cockpit wasn't lieutenant Kemp! "Captain, there's a kid flying the Gundam!"

"I'm not a kid," said the pilot. "I'm fifteen years old. My name's Amuro Ray!"

That face! I remember now, Bright thought, that's chief engineer Ray's boy. "Where's Willie Kemp? What are you doing in there?

"I don't know anything about the designated pilot," said Amuro "but I've been operating it and took out two Zakus."

The bridge officers fell silent. Some teenager managed to work a mobile suit prototype well enough to take down a pair of enemy units flown by actual military personnel? Did Kemp die during the fighting? How did he even know how to pilot it?

Paolo finally spoke up. "Bright," he said, "worry about the details later. Right now, get the Gundam aboard the ship."

"Amuro!"

Bright's attention shifted to the pair of young women leaving the elevator. Volunteer medics, going by the paraphernalia they were carrying. One of them seemed to know the boy.

He was elated to see the girl. "Fraw Bow! You made it to the ship!"

"But where are you?" Fraw asked, having no clue where he was transmitting from.

"The mobile suit pilot's another friend of yours?" Sayla asked.

"He's a neighbor of mi—mobile suit pilot!?"

"Alright," Bright told Amuro. "We'll hear you out later! Get that unit into the hangar via the stern deck! Follow the instructions of the crew there!"

"Yes, sir!" the boy complied. "What's your name?"

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Bright Noa!"

"Got it."

The transmission ended.

Bright had no idea who the boy was, but he seemed to know what he was doing. He was a step ahead of most of the others around because of that.

"Mr. Bright!" an officer at the helm called. "There's something wrong with the gyro. I can't control it?"

"What do you mean you can't? Aren't you the helmsman?"

"No, sir," he replied. "I'm just auxiliary staff. The regular helmsman was killed by the explosion at the dock and this ship's a new model. The sims weren't—!"

"Enough!" Bright was annoyed. Since those Zakus showed up, things just seemed to sour for the ship.

But another voice joined in, another young lady. "Lieutenant," she said "I do have a license to helm a space cruiser. Could I be of help?"

Bright looked at her. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mirai Yashima, sir," she said.

"Ah, the Yashima family," said Paolo.

"It's been a while, Captain Paolo," said Mirai. "My father was looking forward to seeing you, but on his way to a shelter…" she trailed off, the thought had her blinking back a tear.

She didn't need to finish. Paolo could easily tell what had happened. "Lieutenant Bright," the captain said "Miss Yashima may be young, but it's not as though our forces haven't been full of exceptional female officers. Let her take the helm."

Mirai nodded. "Thank you for your confidence, captain. I'll do my best to live up to it."

Paolo was pleased that she accepted the offer. "Then we fight to avenge your father."

Further south. Bright rubbed his temple. This was the second civilian roped into the situation in less than three minutes.

The White Base rotated so she faced the space gate. It was finally time for the ship to leave. Loaded with its precious prototype and hundreds of civilian refugees.

"Oscar," said Bright "what's it like in the colony now?"

Two operators, both surviving original crewmen, sat at opposite-facing panels on the platform behind the captain's chair: Marker Clan and Oscar Dublin.

"Oxygen concentration has fallen below 20%," Oscar responded. "It's a lost cause."

"Is the bay still functional?"

"Yes, sir. We are cleared to launch."

"And what about that Musai?"

"It's fourteen degrees past three o'clock, sir," Marker replied. "20 clicks away."

"Remember that our helmsman's new at this," Bright told him. "Be sure to supply directions in a timely manner."

Dead ahead, a trail of lights appeared to guide the White Base out of the bunch. Open space, and that Zeon cruiser, was waiting for them.

She slowly made her way forward.

Bright took a deep breath through his nose. We don't have much of a choice if it's come down to this.

A mobile suit was like a second skin for Char. Piloting was as natural for him as swimming was to a fish. His customized Command-type Zaku II was standing alongside the surviving mobile suit from the fumbled operation today. It looked exactly like any other Zaku, but it had a single horn and was appropriately painted red.

He drifted toward the cockpit hatch and got in his seat just as a transmission from the bridge reverberated through the hangar: "The 'Trojan Horse' is preparing to exit the space gate."

Char turned on his radio to call the bridge. "Dren, do you copy? Equip my Zaku and Slender's with Type-1 gear and prepare to launch us along the laser line."

"Yes, sir!" Dren replied. A split second later, the lieutenant gathered what his CO was saying. "You're going to deploy, Commander?"

"Yes," Char replied "and I imagine they will as well. Otherwise, it's hardly going to be a fight. I've given them ample time to get ready and I'm not exactly a patient man."

The mono-eye camera of the mobile suit lit up with an electric pink glow.

Amuro had gotten a bit of a break from piloting the Gundam, but had to remain in the hangar of the White Base for a bit. He was on standby in light of an enemy warship in the area. It could open fire again.

After spending so much time studying the notes of his father's, it blew Amuro's mind to actually be around the Gundam itself.

At this moment, the hangar crew was doing mere diagnostics with the suit.

The head of the maintenance ops, Omur Fang, gave the boy a quick warning: the Vulcans were burnt out and unusable right now and that the shoulder magnum (a fixed, retractable turret on the Gundam's right shoulder) only had a small amount of ammo and could only be used conservatively. "We're going to give you a beam rifle to use," he told Amuro "got any questions?"

"I don't," Amuro replied as he sat down in the seat.

"One more thing," said Omur "the G-force gets pretty rough on the catapult, so tuck your chin in and have the Gundam crouch down before launching. It'll be like a ski jump!"

The seat retracted into the mobile suit. Once the systems booted up again, Amuro found himself trying to figure out how to put on the seatbelt. It had two shoulder straps!

Now he had to wait on the call to go to the catapult. Here we go again.

Boo-Boo-Boop! The bridge was calling him again. The image of Bright holding a wired phone appeared on his console. "Gundam pilot Amuro! Come in! Are you on standby?"

"Yes, sir! I'm strapped in!"

"You'll be launched thirty seconds after we clear the bay. Stay within a ten-kilometer radius and defend the ship! With the ship's current combat capabilities, we won't last long against that Musai out there. Understand?"

"Alright, I got it," Amuro said, feeling a bit annoyed.

"What's with that attitude?" Bright asked, a bit flabbergasted. "This is war, not some video game! One of your friends is on this ship!"

This was followed by a muffled voice talking to Bright.

The screen switched to a different camera a moment later. It had that blonde girl Fraw was with earlier in front of it. Bright was further in the back. "You got a rundown on your equipment, right?"

"I did."

"The beam rifle's a very powerful weapon, but it only has so much energy. Be careful not to waste it."

"I know, the maintenance officer told me just now."

Every other eye on the bridge faced ahead as a white mobile suit hurtled out of the ship and into the vacuum. The two techs above Bright's station, were too busy being the vessel's senses and they were doing their job competently. "Mr. Bright, heat source detected!" Oscar announced. "Missiles from the Musai!"

"Mirai, evasive action!" Bright ordered. "Twenty degrees left, eight down!"

Mirai turned the wheel as quickly as she could, but was proving to be too slow for this sort of situation. It was no good!

"I copied that," said Amuro. "I could shoot down the missiles, Mr. Bright. Let me try."

Bright gazed ahead. For a moment, there was nothing going on it, it seemed. Then there was a pink flash and a cloud of fire in the distance.

A few seconds later, another. This time, the explosion was closer and the ship felt the shock.

"He took out both missiles!" Marker cheered.

That crisis had abated, but there was no time to catch a breath yet. "Mr. Bright," Oscar announced, "two more objects are approaching!"

"More missiles?" asked Bright.

"No, sir," the tech said. "These are bigger. They seem to be mobile suits, but one's approaching three times normal speed."

Paolo's eyes lit up when he heard this. "It's… Char!" he grunted.

Bright approached the stretcher. "Captain, did you say something?"

The captain was in excruciating pain, but he knew what was happening. "It's the Red Comet!" he said "During the Battle of Loum, he sank five ships of ours on his own! We need to get out of here!"

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR: I hope that this chapter makes up for the brevity of Bunnie's introduction last time. It's going to be a Sonic chapter again next time and we'll go from there. We'll at last be able to part with ASO fairly soon.