"I'm looking for Petty Officer Ray."
"He's in the simulator with some of our test pilots, should be out in a few minutes." – the engineer replied, gesturing towards a nearby wall display. – "This should be good." - he murmured under his breath, checking something on his console before walking over to Kemp as they both stood in front of the display.
"Haven't you been running simulations on him for the past two days?"
"None of those were against live opponents. We weren't entirely sure he wasn't starting to memorize the AI's attack patterns by the end, so for this last one we're throwing him against live opponents." – Kemp wasn't entirely sure that wasn't fondness in the engineer's tone. – "I almost wish he'd stay here."
"He's a soldier now. He's meant to fight."
"I know how things work, lieutenant. But this kid is something else. Between sessions we've been discussing his performance and he's an absolute genius. He's been giving us a ton of ideas."
Kemp's eyebrow raised at that. Inexplicable piloting knowledge was one thing, but engineering too? That was new. – "Like what?"
"External propellant tanks, panoramic cockpit displays, shield-attached ordinance, variable output beam sabers to extend operational duration... we already considered some of it ourselves, like the tanks, but decided not to pursue them for Project V in order to roll out the prototypes in a timely manner. No point in developing a weapon that won't be finished before the war ends." – The engineer sighed. – "No offense intended, but he's a waste as a ground-pounder. He should be in the lab like his old man."
In that, Kemp privately agreed. Prodigy or not, volunteer or not, sending a kid into battle just didn't sit right with him, no matter how badly the force needed the manpower right now. The adults should've been able to handle this war.
Then again, things like mobile suits and Operation British were a whole different level of warfare than what mankind has ever fought on before. Times were changing, there was no denying that by any sane person except the more conservative parts of the EFSF leadership who vocally opposed Project V and did their damnedest to convince Revil that those resources would be better used building more tanks and more battleships to blast Zeon's toys with their popguns to kingdom come, even as said popguns claimed more battleships at Loum alone than in any other naval engagement in history and could easily pulverize any Type 61 that failed to get the drop on them before the tank's autoloader could load the second round. Some of them even went to the trouble of bringing in mechanical engineers who insisted that catching up with Zeon in the field of mobile suits within the timeframe the Federation had until the production lines were ready simply couldn't be done.
Revil, having seen the power of the MS-06C at Loum, silently heard the naysayers out – then equally as silently put his signature on the document greenlighting Project V anyway, handed it to Tem Ray and moved on to the next item on his daily agenda.
"How's his combat performance?"
"Like nothing we've seen before from any of our own test pilots. The simulator can actually barely keep up with his reflexes and his marksmanship is considerably above average."
Then again, 'average' was relative for a Federation that had more pilots than mobile suits at the moment and it wasn't as if Zeon would share their own data for the purposes of establishing that kind of baseline.
"What about close combat?"
"Fast, single-blow kills as soon as he sees an opening. Not the chivalrous type, but not overly aggressive either."
So neither screwing around nor charging in half-cocked. That was at least good to hear.
"Are they going to be using simulated RX-78s?"
That was the main issue that honestly bothered Kemp. The Gundam was a good machine, no doubt about it, but there simply weren't enough to hand them out like candy. If Ray was entirely reliant on the suit, that was going to be a problem if he was going to be sent out in a lower-spec machine, which was starting to look increasingly likely. Not that the Guncannon itself wasn't a highly capable machine, it just wasn't as agile and with what happened recently, it was only a matter of time before someone other than Char Aznable wised up and took a heat hawk to the joints.
That particular battle was... not exactly Kemp's proudest career moment. Superior mobile suit or not, Aznable was every bit as good as his reputation claimed and seemingly had an immediate answer to his every move. If Ray hadn't had the devil's own luck and gotten the drop on the guy the way he did... if anyone had told Kemp when he first laid eyes on that kid months ago that said kid would end up saving his life, he would've laughed in their face, but fate seemed to have other plans.
Humiliation of having been saved by an amateur aside, Aznable had the entire ship and its critically important cargo dead to goddamn rights right then and there. Even the thought of how close they came to losing it all gave Kemp cold sweat – all because despite having been selected as a test pilot months ago, when it came to actually fighting a Zeon ace one-on-one, he fell short. And because he couldn't take down his foe that day, said foe came back with a vengeance. The very same Gundam Char Aznable's skills repeatedly cheated death against was little more than a half-molten pile of scrap now, the White Base's engineers having currently been in the finishing process of stripping it for every component that still worked and every scrap of lunar titanium that could be machined back into spare armor for whatever else the rest of the ship's cargo could be pieced together into.
The less said about the actual Guncannon Aznable made off with in full working condition, the better. From what scuttlebutt came Kemp's way, Wakkein was beyond livid when he found out and heads rolled in Luna II's security staff. If it wasn't for Cassius being in command of the ship, Kemp had no idea whether the White Base crew would've escaped that fate.
How many more fuckups like that could they afford? He didn't want to find out.
"No, RGM-79s. We don't have many of those yet, so we've only been using them for mobility tests. The simulation model is not an exact replication, though; we don't have beam rifles ready for the real ones yet, so the test pilots practice with machine guns and RX-78 rifles for the time being."
Within the simulated environment, four GMs were making their way across a massive debris field at a sedate pace, focusing more on avoiding collisions than speed.
"Right, let's get this party started." – the lead pilot declared. – "Anyone's got eyes on him?"
"2 here, I see him. He's moving into the debris field."
"What the hell, fun hasn't even started and he's hiding already?"
"Probably realized how in over his head he is against four guys at once."
"Let's prove him right, then. 2, 3, on me, left and right flank. 4, you see him, tag his ass."
The GM at the rear of the formation flashed a thumbs-up and fell away, coming to a stop next to a larger piece of debris it immediately perched onto the side of, while the other three continued ahead.
Which was the point when a fifth GM popped out from behind a piece of broken hull and fired a short burst from his head vulcans at the other three, forcing them to break formation and scatter. None of them managed to shoot back, however, before he disappeared back into cover.
The trio quickly rounded the hull, weapons raised - only to find nothing. The lead pilot was about to call it in when a single round zipped past his view and hit the GM machine gun magazine planted on the hull, causing every single round in it to cook off and chaotically blast away in all directions, several hitting the GM before it could raise its shield.
"Oh, that's bullshit!" – the GM pilot complained as he smashed on the button to silence the master alarm blaring from the damage. – "That wouldn't work in real life!"
"Actually, I'm pretty sure it would." – 2 noted. – "Why else would they program it into the simulator?"
"Shut up! 4, you got eyes on him?"
"Nope, no joy."
"2, 3, scatter and find him. If cheap tricks are all he's got, he won't get far."
He barely finished that sentence before 3's right leg was raked by a burst of bullets from behind. All three GMs spun around immediately...
...and found nothing.
Suddenly a beam rifle shot rang out from 4's direction, striking something a few hundred meters away that made semi-molten debris fly around. Then another, followed by silence.
"4, did you get him?"
"Negative, but I got him pinned!" – came the tense response, interrupted by another shot. – "Salamis wreck at 049 by 106, range 3.5 klicks!"
"On our way."
The trio started moving through the debris again, faster this time and moving with a purpose as the hulk their prey was hiding behind came into view.
"Alright, same deal. Take the flanks, I'll go in from above. We'll surround him from three sides. 4, you keep an eye out and blast him if he tries to break out below."
The GMs were about to scatter and round the hulk when smoke erupted on the left side of the hulk, partially concealing the shadow of something moving. All three GMs opened fire on the spot, only for the smoke to clear away and reveal a spinning piece of debris from the hulk itself, perforated by machine gun fire.
Then the squad leader spotted movement from the corner of his eye, but this time managed to rein in his trigger finger before he shot the second, somewhat larger piece of debris floating away from the hulk.
"Throwing shit around to make us waste ammo." – he grumbled, gesturing at the others with his GM's arm to move in. – '"What does he think he is, a horror movie bad guy?"
The second the other side of the wreck came into view, all three GMs opened fire and raked the entire area with their machine guns, adding to the devastation already present in the battlefield. Once the smoke cleared, however, they found nothing but empty space distinctly lacking anything that looked like damaged GM components.
"Where'd he go?"
"4, did you fell asleep or something?!" – the leader barked into the radio as he ejected his machine gun's spent magazine to reload.
"What do you mean?! He's still there!"
"He isn't, dumbass!"
"I swear I didn't see him leave! That whole thing is skylined and I got it zeroed in on IR, there's no way!"
"He can't be hiding inside." – 2 pointed out, poking the twisted and mangled hull of the hulk. – "Not enough room for a mobile suit."
"Shut up and find him!" – the leader replied and broke away from the group, followed a second later by the other two splitting away as well.
No matter which way they looked, however, their prey proved elusive.
Several minutes later, the lead GM pilot was getting frustrated and made it known to the simulator cockpit's throttle handle with his fist. – "Okay, this is getting ridiculous! He coming out, or should we just wrap this simulation up?!"
As fate would have it, the small burst of forward movement from hitting the throttle was the only thing that kept him from being bisected by the beam rifle shot that passed through the spot he'd have otherwise drifted into.
"The hell?!"
"Still don't have eyes on him!" – 2 reported tersely.
"4 does! Move on my position!"
He frantically looked around... but saw nothing.
"4, where was he?"
He got his answer a second later when 2 appeared in his peripheral vision, only to get his head blown off by another beam. – "Wha- HEY! Learn to AIM, asshole!"
A second later, the disoriented 2 took a direct hit to its weapon arm that swiftly deprived it of both said limb and its machine gun.
"4, respond!"
No answer. Which, as another beam scythed across space and forced 2 into cover, sent a sinking feeling of realization down his spine.
"What's going on?!" – 3 demanded frantically, his GM cautiously peeking out from behind a piece of debris with machine gun raised.
"Bastard took out 4 and stole his rifle!" – the squad leader replied, immediately throwing himself behind the nearest piece of debris large enough to break line of sight from the direction the shots were coming from.
"When the hell did he-?!"
3 was cut off by a deadly accurate beam punching through both his cover and his shield, taking off one of his legs.
"Stay in cover and push for his position when I give the signal! 2, you take point!"
"Why me?! I don't have a rifle!"
"You still have your shield, use it!"
After a few seconds of waiting, the lead GM experimentally stuck its shield out of cover then immediately backed away in the opposite direction. There was no return fire, however.
"Alright, move on three! One!"
Both the leader and 3 gripped their weapons tighter while 2 raised his shield.
"Two! THREE!"
All three GMs simultaneously zipped out of cover and charged towards the sniper's position. Only, there was still no return fire.
There was, however, a rapidly approaching heat signature whose source soon became visible on their screens.
"Heads up, he's coming at us!"
"At that speed in a debris field?! He's fucking crazy!"
All three GMs opened fire with whatever weapons they had left, but nothing seemed to hit as their foe chaotically bounded from debris to debris, forcefully plowing feet-first into each one and immediately kicking off to rapidly change direction. Even the bullets that actually flew the right way either bounced off of the GM's shield or hit nothing but debris the GM briefly dodged behind without the targeting computer registering the obstacle quickly enough.
None of the attackers had time to scatter as the lone GM suddenly flipped back to plow feet-first into 2's one-armed GM. 2 raised his shield but his foe simply used it as a stepping stone to vault over him, the inertia of the contact knocking 2 back and between the other two before the attacker flipped upside down and send a deadly accurate beam rifle shot into the GM's defenseless back and straight into the fusion reactor, the fireball violently tossing the other two GMs aside in near-perfect symmetry. It all happened so fast the remaining two GMs barely had enough time to stabilize themselves, turn around and fire the last few rounds in their magazines before their target boosted sideways into cover behind a Musai wreck.
"I swear this guy is toying with us...!" – 3 muttered as he reloaded.
"Press his position!" – the leader barked out, quickly glancing at his cockpit readouts to verify that his GM was still good to go. – "Don't let him hide hide again!"
As the GM team split up to pursue, 3 rounded the Musai from the right, only to find nothing. Frustrated, he was about to call in the loss of his target when he noticed the red of a shield from the corner of his eye. He spun and immediately opened fire, but held it as soon as his brain registered the shield had no GM behind it. – "A decoy?!"
A moment later, his communication antenna was suddenly pulverized by head vulcan shots from behind and before he could react, a hand closed around his beam saber and ignited it while it was still in its shoulder rack, skewering the GM from shoulder to waist before ripping the blade out.
On the other side, the leader similarly found nothing and was about to call out to 3 when he saw a GM stick its head out from behind and nearly shot by reflex before noticing it had a machine gun instead of a beam rifle.
"Where is he?!"
The other GM motioned ahead, towards another large piece of debris, so he turned to pursue.
It took his brain a second too late to register the fact that the other GM had two legs and a hostile IFF tag before said GM let go of the machine gun, pulled a beam rifle into sight from behind its shield and shot him in the back, narrowly missing both the cockpit and the reactor to blast through his side and take off his right forearm.
"You son of a bitch!" – the leader howled above his cockpit's damage alarm as he spun around and charged at his foe, throwing his shield at the other GM so that he can pull out his beam saber with his now-empty left hand.
The flying shield crashed into his opponent's and knocked it out of of the GM's hand, the cause of which was quickly revealed to be the GM only having held the shield with its index and middle fingers... the cause of which in turn was the beam saber being awkwardly held in the pinky and ring finger. Throwing the saber with one hand, the GM raised its beam rifle and fired...
...at the beam saber, causing the simulated beam to go harmlessly through the blade.
The completely impromptu action caught the leader in baffled surprise, but not enough for him to not charge again. His seemingly equally surprised opponent recovered just as fast and tossed his rifle away in favor of pulling out a second saber.
The two GMs clashed their blades together, but only long enough to cancel out each other's momentum before the intact GM shifted the angle of its blade and pushed it down to the other's hilt, slicing both it and the damaged GM's left hand in half before kicking its opponent away hard, sending it plowing into yet another pierce of debris.
The pilot barely had enough time to get off a few shots from his head vulcans before the other GM forcefully stomped down on his' head to turn it aside, bent down and lightly tapped the business end of its inactive beam saber against his cockpit hatch.
"Damn." – the engineer whistled as the simulator shut down and the pilots began climbing out, one in particular cursing up a storm. – "See what I mean?"
Kemp just nodded without a reply, waiting for Amuro to get out of the simulator cockpit. As soon as the teen spotted him, Amuro immediately beelined over and saluted. – "Sir. Are we leaving?"
"Engineers are running final system checks with Mirai; captain sent me to fetch you. What were you trying to do there with the beam saber at the end?"
"Just an... experiment. But it seems the simulator isn't programmed for it."
"For what?"
"Beam sabers use cylindrical I-fields to contain the megaparticles that form the actual blade, right? Two beam sabers in contact with each other mutually repel each other's payload, so a beam rifle's payload hitting one would theoretically result in the beam refracting off of the curved field into a wider blast, like a pebble skipping off the surface of water." – Amuro explained. – "But like I said, they didn't program the simulator's physics engine to take that into account."
"...I'll be damned." – the engineer muttered. – "I don't think we ever thought of that..."
"Wouldn't that diminish the beam's power down to the point where it only inflicts superficial damage, though?" – Kemp pointed out.
"True. But it should still disorient the target, maybe take out the main camera or multiple closely-packed missiles."
"You'd never be able to pull that off without computer assistance, though." – the engineer interjected. – "Hitting the blade at exactly the right angle and spot, with split-second timing? Not even the RX-78's targeting computer has enough spare clock cycles for it when it's already tracking multiple hostiles."
"And it would leave you down one beam saber." – Kemp added.
Amuro just shrugged. – "The Gundam has two. I had to grab my second one off one of the GMs."
Whatever Kemp was about to say was interrupted by the test pilots. – "Wait just a goddamn second! Who the hell is this kid?!"
"The one who just wiped the floor with you." – the engineer replied in a smug tone. – "Figured you could use getting knocked down a peg."
Of that, Amuro had no doubt. Going up against actual human opponents rather than the computer was, he dared say, actually fun. Going up against a human opponent with a reputation among the engineers as a cocky bastard who repeatedly got into trouble with the regulations concerning alcohol consumption on duty and sexual harassment of female personnel?
Karmic justice at work.
"Did you get the data?"
"Yeah, this'll give us enough to work on. Thank you for your cooperation."
"What data?" – Kemp asked.
"Simulated opponents are one thing, but we wanted to match him up against human opponents with identical mobile suits." – the engineer explained. – "I don't think I've ever seen anyone make a GM dance like that before, but it's definitely going to be of great help to our software division in optimizing the maneuvering and evasion subroutines."
Which was exactly why Amuro immediately agreed to the idea. Veteran or not, he was still just one man in one mobile suit that could only be in one place at a time. Each shot he dodges may be one less shot that could've killed someone else, but it doesn't mean much if the Federation lost several dozen Gundams' worth of GMs due to their pilots not having the same reaction times he does.
The answer, Amuro knew, was in the adaptive neural network of the Gundam's Core Fighter which, over his many battles in the war, observed his maneuvers and collated it into data the engineers at Jaburo used to train the evasion and combat maneuvering subroutines that went into the GM. In fact, it wouldn't be narcissistic to say that in hindsight, Amuro was prouder of the lives his combat data saved than his actual kill count as an ace. He was a soldier, not a butcher. Yet he never bragged about it; in fact, very few people were even aware of his contribution on that front post-war, what with the Federation leadership having decided they'd rather not have to give credit to a Newtype teenager whose main contribution for the majority of his wartime military service was acting as glorified flypaper for enemy pilots looking for the glory of being the one who brought down the infamous Trojan Horse.
"What do you think we've been doing?!" – the lead pilot with the mustache complained.
"Being a nuisance, from what I heard from the crew." – Amuro quipped.
"Whazzat?" – The pilot leaned forward to get right in Amuro's face. – "You want an asskicking outside the simulator, punk?!"
Amuro was not intimidated in the slightest. Corporal punishment may have been legal in the EFSF for handling disciplinary matters, but after facing down Char and mutually kicking the crap out of each other for real shortly before the whole Axis debacle that sent him here, the idea of a love tap or two was not going to scare him anymore.
"Monsha, don't." – another pilot warned with a hand on the first one's shoulder, ready to hold him back if needed.
"Not unless you wish to explain to Wakkein why you decided to put one of the pilots of a high-value ship out of commission." – Kemp interjected in a raised tone, making the test pilots finally notice the officer's pins on his collar and straighten up. – "If that performance is the best you can do, giving you mobile suits is a waste! A Zaku would eat you for breakfast!"
"Zakus don't have beam weapons!"
"Not yet, and only because someone with half a brain had the idea of not making our shit compatible with Zeon's so that they can't use it even if they steal it! But don't expect that to last forever."
And Amuro knew very well that said advantage wasn't going to last even as long as it did back then, thanks to Char's recent handiwork.
"Goddamn stick-jockeys are insufferably sore losers..." – the engineer muttered as the test pilots walked out of the room, the leader still grumbling under his mustache about a 'cheating little bastard'. – "Uh, no offense to present company, of course. But some of these pilots really get tiresome at times."
"Tell me about it." – another technician added from behind his console. – "They get to sit in an actual mobile suit and suddenly they think they're on the top of the bloody world. Who do they think put that kit together for them, God Almighty?"
"And that's when they don't treat us as a shopping list of features they pull out of their asses. Remember that guy who wanted a palm-mounted beam gun so that he can behead Zakus with a face grab?"
"We work with what we have." – Kemp replied in a 'can't be helped' tone. – "And there'll be a lot more of them once these things start rolling off the assembly lines. Ray, let's go."
"Yes sir."
Minutes later they were nearing the dock of the White Base and passed through several more checkpoints instituted after Char's break-in when Kemp spoke up again. – "As you probably guessed already, your paperwork came through. As of today, you are a soldier of the Earth Federation and will be expected to act as such."
It would be a lie to say that Amuro was not expecting this talk to come eventually. – "Yes sir."
"My transfer to the White Base as CAG is also finalized which means that as of now, you are under my direct command until further notice."
Kemp stopped and turned to face him.
"I'll be blunt, Ray, I'd rather not have you on the team. Whatever fluke you managed to pull off so far, a kid has no business being in a cockpit. If the White Base had any more pilots other than myself and José, I'd drop you off here in a heartbeat for the scientists to mine your head. But it's not up to me. The captain seems to trust you and I won't second-guess him, but I don't have to like it. So we're going to have to lay down some ground rules, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." – Amuro replied. He was fully aware that by all appearances he was just a civilian who wouldn't already know what he was likely about to hear. If only they'd knew...
"First." – Kemp pointed at the rank pins on his own collar. – "These are not just for decoration. I'm Commander of the Air Group which means when we're on a sortie, I'm in charge. When I tell you to do something, it won't be a request or suggestion, it will be an order you are expected to follow like any other pilot under my command. Now, I'm going to assume you don't have a problem with that or else you wouldn't be standing here. Am I wrong in that assumption?"
Amuro remembered very well just how much of a handful he was for Bright fourteen years ago and has no intent on a repeat performance. They were in for a deep enough slog as it is. – "No, sir."
"Good. Second, no more lone wolf antics. We're in the military, not a mud fight. I don't care how good you think you are, I don't want to get shot in the back because I told you to watch it and you weren't. Shoot the Zekes all you want but don't forget that you're not the only one fighting for his life out there and we'd all like to go home at the end of this war in a manner that preferably doesn't involve a death certificate mailed to our families. I'll do whatever I can to not get you killed, but I expect you to do the same, for me and for José."
Which was already a whole lot more than what the worst Federation officers Amuro could name would do for his men. – "I will."
"I'll hold you to that. Third, and I want you to listen to this one carefully. You are getting a chance at playing soldier, but it's just that, a chance. Nobody's going to kiss your ass until you earn it. That being said, Captain Cassius is taking an enormous risk with you and after what happened with your father, the brass will be watching you like a hawk. Do you know why?"
"Because Zeon have leverage over me." – Amuro replied.
"You catch on quick." – As if it was that hard to logic out. – "You realize once they figure out who he is, he'll likely be taken to Side 3, which means you'll probably not going to see him again until the end of the war, if ever. And even if you do, he'll likely not be the same in his head anymore. Zekes sometimes do some really nasty shit with POWs."
"I know."
That was a sad historical truth. As bloody as the likes of Loum and the One Week Battle were, being taken as a prisoner of war wasn't that bad at the beginning, as Revil himself could attest. But as the killing dragged on and the body count on both sides kept going up, the stress got to some of the soldiers - who then took it out on civilians and prisoners. Garma Zabi allegedly tried to keep that kind of thing under control until his demise, but it most definitely did not help Zeon's post-war reputation. Not that the Federation was entirely blameless on that front either, especially where areas like Southeast Asia were concerned.
"I'm just saying." – Kemp continued. – "I'm not saying you're not allowed to be worried about him, but I need you to stay sharp and keep your head in the game. Don't be surprised if they try to approach you and don't hesitate to alert me. Like I said, the captain is putting his own ass on the line for you, so if you screw up, you won't be the only one suffering the consequences. And if the Zekes do try to blackmail you, I'm warning you to not even think about humoring them. We're at wartime, which means you will get the firing squad for acts of treason – assuming I don't shoot you first, that is."
Food for thought if Amuro ever decided to go AWOL with the Gundam again. Not that he currently intended to.
"That will be all for now. Report to the QM for your uniform, then go make yourself useful in the hangar."
Post-it author's notes - 2022.11.08.
Note that the GMs mentioned and simulated in this chapter are actually RGM-79[E] GM Early Types, AKA the same GM model Sanders used in the first episode of 08th MS Team when he got his ass kicked by Aina's MS-06RD-4 Zaku High Mobility Type a few in-universe weeks from now. These suits were the direct predecessors of the stock RGM-79 GM and the MS-09R Rick Dom, respectively.
The beam saber trick Amuro tried in the simulator was the same "Beam Confuse" move Kamille did in the last Zeta compilation movie, where his spinning beam saber refracting his rifle's shots into shotgun-style wide-area blasts took out the Qubeley's funnels to allow the Hyaku Shiki to disengage. Although Amuro wasn't there to witness it, nothing says he wouldn't have been able to come up with the idea himself (or watch the Zeta's black box footage while working on the Nu Gundam's design), especially since it just builds on the operating principles of every I-field in existence, starting with the Big Zam. As a minor bit of trivia, the Beam Confuse is also the Zeta's combination SP attack in Dynasty Warriors Gundam 2 and also appears in the Super Robot Wars franchise.
The "run blade up the opposing one and slice the opponent's fingers off" move is the reason why real-life swords have crossguards on the hilt. When writing this chapter, I debated over and eventually asked around whether beam sabers would have an equivalent by way of shaping the I-field that contains the megaparticles the beam saber's blade is composed of. General consensus was that mass-produced sabers like those of the GM likely wouldn't have this capability – and I can perfectly see another reason as well: at the time the beam saber was developed, Zeon did not have any mobile suits with beam sabers of their own, so it was simply not needed.