Confusion
"Tai-i Uesugi! Are you there?" Mark Adams' voice blared through
the external speakers on his Montezuma.
Tai-i Tadamune Uesugi emerged from the cockpit, his face covered his soot and his mouth dry. When he saw his leader, Mark raised his mobile suit's hand in salute and Tadamune returned the gesture.
As Chu-i Mark Adams' cockpit slid open, Tadamune advanced. The junior officer was covered in sweat, his flight suit soaked through completely. They must have panicked when I broke off. Or the heat controllers in their mobile suits are broken or malfunctioning…
Knowing Mark, Tadamune believed the latter to be true. "What happened?" Tadamune asked.
Mark motioned towards the street, "I got the enemy Hummer on the street. Some of the rebels escaped but they've dispatched infantry to take them out."
Tadamune nodded and noticed Mark fidgeting with the silver band on his third finger. "Excellent work Chu-i. That kill as well as your time of service here may well allow you for a few weeks of leave."
Mark grinned from ear to ear, "Thank you, sir."
He nodded as he walked towards the military truck that was pulling up to take him back to HQ to be debriefed. "Put in your request as soon as possible. But you will be on call, you may be needed at any moment, so be ready."
The grin did not change as Mark saluted Tadamune, "Thanks again, Tai-I!" he practically shouted.
Tadamune returned the salute and turned sharply on his heel, heading for the truck were a pair of armed guards waited to take him to his 'debriefing'.
"But dad!" Quasim Winner cried out in annoyance at his father, who stood pacing about in front of him.
"No, for the third time, NO. You can't join the resistance, it's to dangerous."
Quasim sighed in exasperation, waving a sheet of paper in front of his father, "But look, the Shark wants me in their group, they know that I'm good in an MS and they want me in on the action. I can't turn my back on this dad! We could end the Hegemony aggression and lift the tariffs that have been hampering you!"
Quasim thought he saw his father perk up a little, but the man quickly hid his expression and put a scowl on his face, "No, I will not have the heir to the Winner fortune become a radical terrorist against the Hegemony."
The young man exploded suddenly, "God dammit I don't want to be the heir to the corporation! I don't know a damn thing about running it. All my life I've wanted to be a MS pilot, and I am and always will. I and will never, never be some stuffy corporate executive that sits behind a damned desk all day!"
The older man's eyes became large, "You disgraceful brat! No son of mine would say such a thing!"
Quasim felt no love for his father, only hatred that he had kept inside him for seventeen years. Shaking his head slowly, he uttered, "Go to hell, President Winner."
He said the word president as if it stung his lips to speak it, and without any final gesture he turned and stalked away from his father, vowing to never return.
Quasim's snoring was interrupted by a pounding on the hatch of his MS. The Saracen assault suit was gargantuan and armed to the teeth. The weapons system was so complex that is required two people to man it, one pilot, and the other manning the radio guided missile systems and monitoring the radar and operating the extensive jamming equipment.
He shook his head vigorously to clear it and opened the hatch.
A tall young woman entered, wearing the same red and black, tight fitting jump suit that Quasim did. The only difference was the stylized patch of the Maganac Corps on Quasim's suit was ripped off, a patch sewn onto the jagged rip.
"Something wrong, Quasim?" she asked.
The blonde haired pilot snorted, "Does it look like something is wrong?" he answered sarcastically.
A small smile creeped over her features, "You did a pretty lousy job on that sewing," she pointed out, motioning to his shoulder.
Quasim shrugged and a few threads popped free. He tried to remain serious but he broke into a grin, "Dammit Cassandra I can never keep as straight face around you."
Cassandra Fletcher smirked and leaned against the doorframe of the Saracen's hatch, "So what's up?" she asked, pointing towards where the Maganac symbol had once graced Quasim's shoulder.
Quasim shrugged again, trying to make light of the situation, "I told my father that I didn't want to be the heir of the Corporation."
Her jaw dropped, "You didn't."
"I did, dammit!" Quasim snapped and he saw hurt flash through her eyes. Quasim had never lashed out at her, or anyone else as far as she knew, before.
"Sorry, but I've been pretty testy lately, trying to get my dad to let me join the resistance and all. He wouldn't let me so I ran away."
"You don't expect me to come with you, do you?" she asked hesitantly.
Quasim nodded, "Well, yeah."
Cassandra chuckled, "Why?"
"Because you're my friend and you hate the Hegemony as much as I do."
She shook her head. It's more than that Quasim.
She brushed a wisp of dark brown hair away and her green eyes sparkled, "Okay then, where do we start?"
Quasim sighed, "Thanks Sandra, thanks a lot."
Cassandra sat in the chair behind and to his right, swiveling it so she could access the controls on the mapping system. "So where to?" she repeated, keying in a map of the earth.
"Head for the south Pacific, the Shark's base is there, and tell the computer to notify me when we are five kilometers from the base, the Hegemony has troops guarding it."
"Yes sir!" she replied with mock seriousness, addressing him with the term that he hated.
He shook his head. However hard he tried he could not get angry at the beautiful woman, "Shut up Sandra," he replied in an unconvincing tone.
Leo Posavatz held the controls of his MS tightly. The primary mobile suits of the Shark, the Sea Wolf, was a medium sized suit armed with both land and sea weaponry.
Housed in the boxy shoulders were torpedoes, fifty of them, designed to take out enemy flag ships. Its left arm ended in the muzzle of the Omni Environmental Weapon. The OEW was a powerful rifle that could function in any environment, from the blistering Sahara desert to the vacuum of outer space.
He adjusted the chinstrap of his helmet and then clicked down the visor. As the targeting reticule flashed in the center of his viewplate, Leo, flicked a series of switches that started the reactor running.
As the Sea Wolf rose, the ocean swirling about it, the hundreds of other mobile suits did the same. Sand rose in thick clouds as the legions of MS's pounded a few steps forward. As the dust settled Leo opened the commlink to all the warriors, "Leo here, prepare to break the surf-" his command was cut off as his Sea Wolf was shook by the pounding vibrations of suits diving below the water.
Damn, the coastal guards are attacking!
"Fall back! Defensive positions, all troops fall back!" he yelled as laser fire raked through the watery battlefield.
Next to him a golden laser beam sliced into another Sea Wolf, separating the suit's torso from its legs.
Leo turned and crouched his Sea Wolf, laser fire raining down on the Shark formations. On his display brackets surrounded five enemy suits, and the message TORPEDOE LOCK flashed on the right half of his viewplate.
He hit the two buttons with his thumb and his MS was carried backward a few yards from the recoil. The torpedoes rocketed towards the enemy. Before they could react the projectiles slammed into them, ripping apart the Bow Men class suits.
Leo raised his OEW and fired. The ruby beam stabbed into the leg of an enemy and caused it to topple onto its side. Immediately more OEW fire covered the fallen foe. The MS spread its limbs wide as if in pain before flame engulfed it.
The Bow- Men fired their laser guns, taking down two Sea Wolves and damaging six others. Leo and the other members of the Shark jetted their mobile suits backwards, away from the enemy formation.
The coastal guard warriors advanced eagerly, easily fooled by the Shark's feint.
As the Bow- Men neared the warriors wheeled their suits about to face them, guns blazing. More torpedoes streaked towards the enemy, their bubbling trails bracketed by crimson fire from the OEW guns.
One particularly daring guard pilot leaped towards the opposition. Leo fired and ripped a jagged wound through the Bow- Men's leg. The enemy suit returned fire, melting away armor on the right shoulder of Leo's Sea Wolf.
In the ocean water the melted armor cooled quickly, leaving large globs of armor on the suit's forearm.
Leo shook his head in dispair. Though outgunning the enemy suits, they were hopelessly outnumbered. Where are the blasted Sohei?!
Though it pained him greatly, for it went against everything that had made the Shark what it was, a brutal, unrelenting force that would stop at nothing for a victory.
Leo ordered his warriors to retreat back to the compound.
"What?" called out one of the officers, "Retreat?!"
"You heard me, fall back into the compound immediately!"
The voice that came back through the speakers in his helmet was subdued slightly, "Yes, sir."
Leo paced angrily in front of his computer, the face of Nurame Kaga watching his shuttle between the two points on the carpet.
"Kaga, where in the hell are the Sohei? My men were totally outnumbered and we weren't even able to get out of the water!" Leo snapped irritably.
Nurame stroked his beard, "The Sohei were pinned down in a storm. They can't mobilize at all. They are fanatical, but even the most devoted would not brave a taifun."
Leo growled and stopped pacing, facing Nurame, "How long will the typhoon last?"
Nurame shrugged, "Less than a day, but it will take them a few hours to clean up their suits, the storm is not good for them you know."
"I am under siege, Nurame! If the Sohei cannot make it on time, send another unit!"
"I cannot. Three of my regiments are taking in part in the operation to free Chang Wufei II. The rest are needed to guard my HQ."
"You are a fool to thank you can free Wufei, he is in the most heavily guarded facility in the earth sphere!" Leo spat.
Nurame grinned slightly, "We shall see," he replied.
"And as far as I know that spy Miro and Helmut did nothing to sabotage the enemy!"
"Helmut attempted but his cover was blown and he was forced to retreat. I don't know about Miro, but-wait there's a message coming from him."
With a few stroke Nurame patched Miro through to the conversation, splitting Leo's screen across the center lengthwise. Miro had his balaclava on, and his gray eyes glistened.
"Forgive me Leo, I was not able to sabotage the enemy because one of my spies gave me this information: There is an assassin stalking you, Leo, and he is ready to make his kill."
Leo did not seem fazed by Miro's news, "Where is he, Sirkonov?" snapped Leo.
"In your compound," he replied, his eyes betraying no sympathy for the pilot.
Leo gulped visibly.
"I have his photo, here," Miro uploaded a picture of a young man wearing a black and red jump suit, with blond hair and blue eyes.
"Just wait here, Sandra, I've got to find Leo."
The girl shook her head, "Geez Quasim you're sweating like a pig."
"You know I hate the water," he replied sheepishly.
"Yeah, well-" "There he is!"
Quasim turned, reaching for his gun at the sound of the menacing voice. Before he could register what was going on a man dressed in a sea blue uniform raised a pistol and fired. His aim was low and it struck Quasim in the hip, cracking his pelvic bone in several places.
As the young man gasped in pain, another soldier with a rifle ran forward, and with a viscous scowl on his face, clubbed Quasim with the butt of his weapon.
"So this is our assassin," Leo began, steepleing his fingers as a pair of guards entered, dragging the wounded Quasim with them. He looked at the man's face and suddenly realized who he was.
He turned to his computer and yelled, "What are you trying to do, Miro?!"
"What?" the spy asked back in an innocent tone.
"That picture is Quasim Winner, he's a pilot I was trying to recruit. Obviously your spy is very mislead!"
"Impossible, I trust that man with my life! Someone must have changed the picture!" Miro said quickly.
"Who, a hacker?"
Miro shook his head, "Does it matter, Leo? The assassin is still alive and in the compound, you've got to find him or you'll be dead in a few minutes.
Leo shuddered, something he did not often do.
A guard stood over the body of a small man, garbed in black with what appeared to be a telescope attached to his right eye. Gripped tightly in his hand was a powerful pistol, a .357 Magnum, capable of tearing rather large holes into the human body.
A smattering of blood on the walls showed that the assassin was dead, but in his state of slight panic Leo could have sworn he saw the body twitch a couple of times.
The guard grinned, "Smart little devil, but I finally got him!" he stated happily. Leo again thought he saw movement. With a roar he snatched the guard's gun from his hands and opened fire, pumping lead rounds into the back of the assassin.
Blood smeared on his face, Leo looked at the men and women of the Shark staring agape at him, but quickly returning to their duties, fearing that his anger would be directed towards them.
He took a few deep breaths and dropped the gun, sighing deeply, he retreated from the hangar where his would be killer had met his fate
Chang Wufei II cursed his brother for the thousandth time since his imprisonment. How dare he put me in this place, to slave away at the chain gang!
"Prisoner 24601!" yelled out one of the wardens.
A guard unchained Wufei and led him over to the warden.
"You are wanted in the chapel."
Wufei nodded and headed over to the rickety chapel. As he entered a black robed monk stood at the altar, his hands folded into his robe.
As the man turned Wufei instantly recognized his old friend and mentor, Nurame Kaga, but he made no sign of it.
The 'monk' came forward, speaking softly as if asking for the man's confession, he thrust a note into Wufei's hands.
"Go with God, my son," Nurame muttered, crossing himself and walking out the chapel, his habit billowing.
Wufei read the note and his face brightened immediately.
Quasim opened his eyes as the sound of a beeping heart monitor attacked his ears.
"Unnh," he moaned, his vision foggy. It took him a moment to realize where he was.
He shook his head as the constant beeping continued. That is the last sound I wanted to hear.
Slowly his vision became clear, revealing Sandra perched on the edge of his bed. "Well looks like you finally decided to wake up!" she piped happily.
He moaned again. "What the hell happened?" he asked.
"It's real complicated, so I guess I'll make it simple. Leo got a message that said you were an assassin, somebody switched the pictures around. Leo's guards shot you and when he realized with was a scam they got the real guy."
"Leo's guards shot me?"
"Yeah," she said, managing a crooked smile.
He tried to move his right leg and a fiery pain shot through his body, "Ahh, damn that hurts!" he cried.
"Quasim, Leo said he was sorry and he's sending one of his junior officer's to take care of us."
"Do you trust him, because right now I don't," he murmured.
"Me neither," she said.
"You have plenty of reason to trust him."
Sandra jumped as a man about 5' 10'' entered. He wore a pair of shorts and a red shirt and had what appeared to be scars from laser wounds on his arms. His chin was covered with a small case of acne and his blue eyes sparkled with alertness. His hair, neither Quasim nor Sandra could decide on what to call it. On the sides, a few flashes of gold appeared, but the top of his head was dark brown, almost black.
"I am Mikhail Polchin and I have been assigned to safeguard both of you, and also to enlighten you on how the Shark functions as a military unit."
Quasim noticed the silver bar that denoted the man as a 1st Lieutenant.
"First of all I'd like to apologize on behalf of the Shark and Colonel Posavatz. You're wounding was the cause of a hacker and Miro, the head of the spy organization, the Bat, has already sought out the traitor and eliminated him."
"It's all right," Sandra said quickly Quasim could say anything.
He shot her a glare and she shrugged.
Mikhail nodded, "We can begin right away, or you two can have some time to yourselves," the Lieutenant bit his lip to keep from breaking out in laughter.
Quasim's eyes went wide, "What? Now listen up buddy, you don't understand," Quasim answered.
"Maybe I don't understand," he interrupted with a shrug and a chuckle, "but I've got oh, six years to figure it out."
"Huh?" Quasim and Sandra chorused.
Mikhail shrugged again, "I'm only twelve."
"What?!" they both cried out.
"Get ready, I need to give you the nickel tour," he said. With a wink he disappeared around the doorway.
Sandra helped Quasim into the wheelchair the doctors had given him. As she wheeled it out, Quasim looked Mikhail over, "No way in hell are you twelve."
Mikhail laughed allowed, flexing his arm to reveal some muscles rippling underneath his shirt. "Yeah, I hear that a lot," he chuckled pulling a hand through his hair. This damn dandruff! He thought as the tiny white flakes fell from his scalp.
"What about your hair?" Sandra asked. His face reddened, "No, I mean that," she said, pointing to a colic on the front right of his hair. It looked almost like a breaker on the ocean, making his head asymmetrical. He laughed again, "Natural, comes from my grandfather."
"How can you be 12 and be a 1st Lieutenant?"
Mikhail shrugged, "I just love to fly a mobile suit, just what I love to do."
"Okay, here's the mobile suit ops, I'm going to inform you about all the suits that the Shark and its allies use, so pay close attention."
Mikhail stabbed at the console and a holographic display of a sleek looking MS with a gun barrel replacing its left arm.
"This is a Sea Wolf, the primary MS used by the Shark. Its shoulders house a large amount of homing torpedoes, and the Omni Environmental Weapon can be used anywhere. The torpedo racks are modular and can be swapped quickly with rockets depending on the battlefield."
He clicked in another command and a massive looking MS dominated the room. In its hands it held two large blaster rifles with energy packs attached to them. Tanks of laser fuel clustered around it in a belt to give additional power to the lasers. On the collar encircling its neck were rapid-fire miniguns, and the belt feed dangled well past its knees.
"The Leviathan, the most powerful suit that we field. We only have a squadron of them, so we use them sparingly. It works well in both land and water, but in hot temperatures its lasers can malfunction. The lasers themselves have been designed to slice through any known armor, with the exception of gundanium. We couldn't find any to test."
As the gargantuan form disappeared a much smaller one took its place. It had shark fin like pieces of armor where vulcan gatlings had been housed. It appeared to have no other armament. "This is a Stingray, scout suit that operates in the water. It's extremely fast and can out run most CHMS forces. The vulcan cannons are effective against other suits about its size, but otherwise it's good as dead."
An MS with arms that ended in cylindrical barrels that had hoses running back to a pack on its back. "This is a Prometheus, the only land based suit that we have. It's armed with flame-throwers powered by napalm. Its main weakness is the lack of armor on the napalm tank, one shot there and the whole works goes up in flames. Still it's powerful, and can melt the armor of off most opponents, though it lacks the direct fire to take them out completely."
"Last but not least is the Neptune. It's armed with a beam trident and has a large turbine on its left arm. It's designed to take control of the waves and use it against the enemy. I have never thought that it was an effective design, but many warriors swear by it."
Mikhail continued to go through the list of enemy suits and vehicles. When he was done, the holographic display shrank away into the projector and Mikhail walked down the hall, "Come on, its time to meet Leo."
Murasame grunted as his booted foot connected with the grenade that had been hurled at him. As the deadly projectile flew towards the soldier that had thrown it, Murasame ran for cover behind a crate.
He slipping on a pool of water, his fingers latching onto the edge of the crate. His legs pedaled in a vain attempt to regain his balance, the grenade's fuse ticking off in his head. Three, two, one!
Murasame gasped as searing hot metal pierced his calf. "Stop jerking around and get up here!" Katsuhiro yelled down at him from his perch.
"Shut your hole," growled Murasame as he painfully leapt up to catch hold of the ladder. Katsuhiro grabbed his comrade by the wrist and pulled him up to the platform.
"Come on we've got to hurry, the Chopper's LZ is just half a click away," Katsuhiro said, waving his hand off to the east.
Murasame nodded as he applied pressure to where the grenade fragments had hit his leg.
Both he and Katsuhiro had suffered a few minor injuries. Katsuhiro had taken a bullet to his upper arm, but luckily it had passed straight through his arm and not done any damage to his bone.
Chang Sun-Tzu, on the other hand, had suffered no wounds whatsoever. The soldiers sent to eliminate the Wolf operatives appeared to be crack shots, perhaps even the infamous Urban Lancers, but they wore no markings, and even if they did, neither Katsuhiro or Murasame wanted to get close enough to find out.
Murasame opened his mouth to speak but Katsuhiro quickly silenced him. They heard the crunching of gravel as a person walked over it.
Katsuhiro pulled back the hammer on his gun and placed the barrel on Sun-Tzu's head. The message was clear, "Make one sound and you die."
As the form of a soldier peeked up over the top of the building, Murasame shouldered his sniper rifle, taking careful aim for the left side of the man's chest.
The tightly woven kevlar fibers stopped the bullet short on its deadly path. The soldier stumbled backward from the force, but quickly recovered and called his comrades over.
Murasame side- stepped out of their line of sight, thankful that he had his silencer.
Katsuhiro removed a satchel charge from his belt and tossed it to Murasame. The smaller warrior caught the deadly package and strapped it to his own belt. He moved slowly up the ladder, listening intently for any sign that the soldiers above had heard him.
As he neared the roof, Murasame eased the satchel charge onto the ledge, slowly making his descent, hoping that the soldiers would not notice the deadly pack of explosives.
He reached the platform where Katsuhiro waited, and hit the button on the remote detonator.
There was a cry of horror from above as mortar and concrete pelted the platform above the trio.
Murasame scrambled up the ladder, closing his eyes against the dust from the explosion.
There was a soldier stumbling about drunkenly, wounded in the chest with severe burns on his forearm as well.
Murasame aimed and fired, the bullet hitting the soldier in the cheek. The skin peeled away and blood spewed everywhere as the soldier cried out in agony and fell to the ground.
He motioned for Katsuhiro to follow and the huge man dragged Sun-Tzu along with him.
"Here's the extraction point, where's the chopper?" Murasame wondered aloud.
Katsuhiro checked his watch, "Late," he growled.
As if on que the whirr of rotor blades pierced the night air and mist from the earlier ran showered down on Katsuhiro.
The helicopter nosed forward then leveled out to land, hovering about thirty feet off the ground.
Katsuhiro noticed the chopper's markings too late.
"Run!" he yelled, shoving Murasame and Sun-Tzu in the direction of cover.
The door slid open and over a dozen soldier's garbed in urban camo leapt out, guns blazing. Katsuhiro slid across the wet building top and snatched up an MP5 from the hands of a fallen soldier.
He fired and one soldier went down, rocking backwards and falling back, off the building.
Murasame pulled the bolt back on his rifle, then slowly eased himself out of cover as to not draw attention to himself. He fired and crimson appeared on his target's chest.
Another chopper roared over head, this time hovering so it could see the trio.
And it was armed.
Hellfire missiles streaked from the apache attack copter, sending soldier's flying into the air.
As the Apache broke off, a Hind attack helicopter swooped in low, opening its passenger doors to admit the pair. Already there were several other operatives of the Wolf in it, including Renard.
The pair sprinted for it, Katsuhiro tugging Sun-Tzu fiercely to keep up.
Murasame leapt the last few yards and landed squarely in the compartment, Katsuhiro followed as the Hind began to lift off.
Sun-Tzu could not be pulled and Katsuhiro held him by the wrists as the chopper flew low over the rooftops.