Location: Earth…
Continent: Asia
Subcontinent: Arabian Peninsula (Cultural Area- Middle East (Arab/Muslim))
Province: United Arab States
Area: Rub 'Al Khali (Great Empty Quarter)
Latitude: 20°, 14' North
Longitude: 54°, 44' East
Site: Desert (Preventer Tuwayfil 'Sentinel Ops' Outpost 24.5 kilometers to northwest)
Date: June 21st, AC 198
Time: Local Time 12:02:06 P.M.
Footage: 1 (of 1)
Camera: One mounted on nose of PFS Middle East division 'Camera Customed' ESUN-17 Zipper Helicopter, one mounted in cockpit
Cameraman: Corporal J.H. Ross
Status: Playing…
"Begin log. This is Corporal J.H. Ross of PFMES camera corps. I am the only damned recorder of this historic battle who has the honor of having no part in it. [Sighs] First, here's the war plan:
[A side panel in the cockpit displays a map of the area. Corporal Ross mutters, "You survive the Battle of Bremen and all you get is to be a fucking historian."]
"The OZ forces have being hiding in the Arab Desert for years. Most were stationed in Doha, Riyadh, and the Līwā Oasis, but others were hiding in case their Organization was destroyed. Well, they had some pretty impressive MS production facilities and training camps, and the ESUN annexed most of them when the Roman Fellows joined the World Nation. There was lots of angry OZzies, though, but after we captured the main group in Albany last year about… say, 60% of OZ's forces worldwide deserted. Around 15% of the remaining ones fled to this desert and other backwaters, and then history becomes current events. Last month's invasion of Darwin basically eliminated all of OZ. That is, except for this group.
[The display shifts to a battle plan. Thick blue arrows extend from a base in the northwest to the point of a red arrow. The red arrows extend from the current area to halfway the length to the Tuwayfil base, while three blue arrows surround the arrow from all sides.]
"This is the strategy for Operation: High Noon. The OZ forces think that Tuwayfil's just a town with a small MS factory in the middle of nowhere. That's not quite true. You see, the entire town is the barracks of our base- we don't just make the suits to help these little villagers and nomads, but also to supply the entire Middle East Division. Unfortunately for OZzies, they'll be facing around a whole division of actual soldiers, Arab and Bedouin militias from nearby villages, and their old friends- the Maganac Corps. Meanwhile, I'll be the unofficial commentator of this massacre, so why don't you sit back and enjoy this documen-"
[The film cuts off. Presumably, the corporal was being disciplined by his superior officer for displaying levity.
The film then returns. The battle begins. Everything goes as planned, as several OZ Titan-class MS carriers airdrop a platoon of Aries into the desert. Meanwhile, a convoy of around a brigade of assorted mobile suits- Leos, Tragoi, Tauruses, Serpents, even a few Virgos. All look battle-scarred and worn. The corporal snidely calls the carriers "Galls." Apparently, he is hiding in the thick dust. He also says that there was a sandstorm in the area, and that the OZ MS were not well-shielded…
And so, the battle begins as giant 105mm machine gun emplacements as well as shell-based artillery defend the outpost far beyond the actual village. Though they don't do too much damage, even against the damaged mobile suits, they prove to be an effective distraction. As the sand increases, a shrouded group of Preventer Serpents attacks the suits from the west. Another group follows from the southwest, and a throng of militiamen from the east. Lastly, Maganacs attack from the south.
Though they are new and very inexperienced, the PFM deals much damage to the OZ force in the dust. They have even more support as Tragos and Oliphants provided artillery from afar, and as helicopters and land tanks swarm at fleeing forces or those that strayed to the edge of the battlefield, more like deadly tsetse flies rather than annoying gnats. The initial battle lasts for thirty minutes.
Eventually, Commander Lawrence makes his plea for surrender. Most soldiers capitulate, but one does not, and his resistance is followed by an attempt to fight, again. Of course, it fails, but Corporal Ross flies above him, noticing his will to become a martyr and to inspire his friends to resist futilely.
Declaring (unofficially) the battle over and the entire operation a victory for the ages, the corporal follows some of his fellow soldiers and heads for Tuwayfil. However, he notices that a large aircraft was heading in the area. He captures the very first images of the huge carrier, and also pictures of the new-type mobile suits jettisoned. Corporal Ross also realizes that the entire coalition is outnumbered. Despite that the helicopter has very little shielding and no defensive weapons, he flies toward the battle to make sure that headquarters would get all the information they can about these invaders. He also begins transmitting the entire video.
The film ends as he shouts that the rotor had been punctured by guns from the carrier. The nose-mounted camera shows his fate- a face-first crash onto the desert floor. ]
General Daniel Henry Patrick stopped the projection. He stood beside the sitting Heero in the dark briefing room.
"Despite the insubordination he developed after Endless Waltz, Corporal Ross was a good man. His sacrifice was not in vain," saluted the General.
Heero was not impressed. "Is that the end of the transmission?"
"Yes. The rest of the camera corps was in mobile suits. A 07.2 Tragos started broadcasting, but it was destroyed before it was completed. We sent reinforcements from the Oasis as soon as we got the late corporal's, though. This is the result."
He pressed a button. The projector in the video room showed pictures of military-styled buildings that were burnt out. There was also footage of collapsed little houses of the village and crying, traumatized locals.
"They completely looted and destroyed the outpost. They also took all of the mobile suits. The villagers protested, and some of them had their homes crushed. Many of them had relatives who were in the militias. Also-" the General showed a picture of empty desert landscape, "the entire battlefield has been cleaned. They took all of the broken equipment, all of the bodies of our soldiers, and even the goddamned scrap metal! Not even the sandstorm could have done as much as they did- those bastards took everything. Everything!"
The General paused for a moment to regain his composure, and began a slideshow of seemingly incomprehensible technical data.
The first image was a blueprint for the humongous carrier.
"We believe that it is a Peacemillion-class super carrier. I am sure that you already know much about the Peacemillion, so I shall tell you of the modifications. The only data we have found is that the carrier have been upgraded much. It seems to have a propulsion system similar to the original, but efficient to the extent that it is extremely quiet. It is also undetectable by radar-probably a terrestrial hyper-jammer variant. As you have seen from the Zipper's footage, no one noticed the ship until it was directly above the battlefield."
Next came plans of the strange mobile suits the carrier deployed. They were similar to old Leos, but their heads were smaller and rounder- in fact, they were spheres that connected to the body by a mass of straight, thick coil. Two long, thin antennas protruded from two sides of the head, giving it an almost insect-like appearance. However, the strangest part about the head was that it had not one camera eye, but two ovals that covered the entire front of the "face".
The chassis itself was much like the Virgo, with large shoulders that apparently housed missiles. Its main weapon was a giant cannon mounted on its shoulder; in fact, the one in the plan had it rising upwards. Heero also noticed that the mobile suit had a strange band of metal around its waist, as well a large shield that covered its entire torso mounted on the other arm.
"This is the MMS-02P Orion Prototype MS. It was originally supposed to complement the Serpents during Endless Waltz, but it was never produced- too much a drain on resources, or so the Barton boys say. It was not meant to be a Mercurius-Vayeate symbiosis, just two good general-purpose suits mutually supporting each other. Anyway, the suits demanded too much Gundanium and neo-titanium for it to be really effective- that whole shield is hard to put away, anyhow.
"The suit has a few innovations. The large camera eyes compensates for the large head, and that belt around the suit holds several more weapons- a beam saber, as well as crackerjacks."
A short clip began. Apparently, it was a test Orion throwing large, metal tubes. The tubes hit several targets and exploded twice. First, the metal shell blasted off, destroying the target. Then, a smaller tube in the grenade shattered, setting the wreckage on fire.
"Inventive, no? However, the real punch is the bazooka."
The clip switched to outer space. A lone Orion floated, the Earth far behind it. In front of him was nothing. A far zoom later, one could see some faint lights shining. Another target.
The Orion fired the bazooka. After a blinding flash, one could see that the target was completely annihilated, the lights destroyed, gone into the void.
"It's more than a regular missile launcher. Its range is over ten miles."
For once, Heero was shocked. It was not so much the bloodshed, for he had spilled much more in his time, but the number of fighters. Ever since he gave up war, he had always assumed that war would be over- at least for his generation. OZ was gone, the colonial rebels placated, and the peace that civilians yearned for had survived. Now, not only did the original zealots still exist, but now another group with seemingly immense resources had rescued them- and he didn't expect that they were doing that for justice. What he had previously imagined to be a group of powerful but few terrorists, akin to the Mariemaia Army, seemed to be a whole new Romefeller- a whole new OZ.
General Henry Patrick switched the screen again. There were pictures of large civilian ships and assorted machinery- specialized nets, cranes, and scoops, all picking up discarded fragments from old vehicles. Heero noticed the stylish swoop of the SG logo.
"Mr. Yuy, I shall be blunt. This whole battle is not only a great injury against the whole Preventer Field Soldiery, but an insult. The sandstorms not only buried all of the clues to our enemies, but They were keen enough to take everything up beforehand. The data we have shown you is based on crude analysis of the video. The Orion files were a lucky find- we decrypted several Century Discover Corporation sites on the Net. We have virtually no information about this enemy and nearly no leads."
"So the Sweepers are your suspects?"
"I was getting to that. As you have known, the Sweepers have always been neutral in war, but skilled at it- conceivably. The ESUN can't pay for battlefield junkmen, and the Sweepers work for free. They've been cleaning up after us soldiers and enjoying the spoils of war since the early years of the UESA."
"They are not soldiers."
"True, Mr. Yuy. Unfortunately, the Sweeper Group is the only possible suspect- we're counting on them to be at least connected with the enemy somehow. Equipment sales, or they were hired to destroy the evidence."
"Have you questioned any?"
"No, we do not need any in the Earth Sphere knowing that anything is wrong. However, we have enough of our own in the Sweepers to know if something's afoot. Currently, there's been no major operations. The plot is more hidden deeper."
General Henry Patrick paused. "Despite our attempted kidnapping, your alias 'Ryo Black' has been very successful. It was quite prudent for you to hide in western North America. No soldiers moving much there after you attacked New Edwards, no veterans to recognize you. That is exactly what you will exploit in your mission."
At last. Thought Heero.
"The Sweepers are chockfull of war vets and peacenik idealists, harmless folks. Still, we believe that at least some of their management dealt with the enemy. You shall infiltrate them, and reveal yourself to be the legendary Heero Yuy. Devise some way to keep them from knowing that we are investigating them."
"What of Howard?"
"Most of the survivors from the Peacemillion are with us."
"All of them?"
General Henry Patrick grinned. "But of course."
A door opened. L2 mobile suit pilot Duo Maxwell, the loquacious American and the cheerful face of the Gundam five entered.
"What's up, Heero…?"
The Commander's office was eclectic, to say the least. The décor was nonexistent- oaken bookcases, flickering television screens, large world maps, and abstract Impressionist paintings of giant spinning tops against darkness covered the walls. His sleek, immaculate desk was hidden with neatly stacked piles of paperwork and a giant globe. It stood on a floor wrapped by some sort of Eastern rug. There were two seats. An ergonomic swivel behind the desk, and a cold, steel skeleton of a seat in front.
Commander Brighton entered first, and motioned for Lieutenant Markim to sit. He did.
"Lieutenant, before I begin I would like you to examine that globe."
Markim sat stiffly, uncomfortable at the whole situation. As a veteran of the Eve Wars, he had had such encounters as a POW, always designed to change his mind and to convert him to the opposition. First step: courtesy.
The globe had an archaic look to it. There were no lines to show the orbits of the colonies, and the lettering were all in English- no Esperanto words or Pan-Asian iconography. The most distinct peculiarity of it was that there were solid, dark territory lines all over it.
"This is based on a pre-AC map, isn't it, sir?"
"Not quite. It is based on a pre-Alliance one that we modified somewhat. As you can see, Lieutenant Jaspari, there are only four regions highlighted."
Markim turned the globe slowly, and examined the regions. One was a strange cluster in South America that contained the northern portion of the Andes stretching to parts of the Amazon rainforest all the way up to the Caribbean Sea. It was named "Sierraguay." An unpronounceable territory named "Ishbula'tenjn" covered a major portion of Central Europe, from the western part of the Indian subcontinent to parts of Asia Minor. Strangely, it was not a coherent whole and there were spots of the same color labeled with the initial "Ish." in many other bits of Asia. A snake-like region was contained to a long northeastern stretch of the Himalayas, the head of "Silkmanda" was formed by a region bordered by several large lakes. The last region was composed of a small portion of Eastern Europe- called "Karemnia," it contained most of the Carpathian Mountains.
He looked at Brighton quizzically. "What are these provinces?".
The other man sighed and sat down in his chair, behind the desk. "These are not the 'provinces' of the ESUN, nor the 'sectors' of the old Alliance. What you see on the globe is something you cannot understand. Tell me, Lieutenant- do you know what a country is?"
Markim was indignant. "Of course, sir. I have gone to college, after all."
"I knew that and care not. Everyone born in the UESA has had secondary education provided by them with their indoctrinated lessons. Tell me what a country is."
Markim frowned slightly, recalling former world history classes at Kabul U. before replying, "In the days before the colonies were completely established, geo-political divisions split the surface of the Earth into hundreds of distinct governments. Due to their squabbling, almost all wars fought on Earth was between the countries or between national governments and their own people. That lasted until the Alliance took control on After Colony One."
The other grimaced. "What you say is partly true, but it is distorted by propaganda. I had never expected that a young OZ soldier like you- especially an officer- would sprout such tripe."
"Forgive me, sir. I am only repeating what my professors taught."
"Hmph. Returning to the matter at hand, what you have been told by the globalists is their doctrine, that of effete, liberal oppression. For centuries, those who have feared nationalism and the sovereignty of nations feared that they would always remain separate and therefore uncontrollable. With the advent of the space colonies, the powers that be had humanity build hundreds of castles in the sky, keeping our forefathers busy while the others spread their unionist dogma. The United Earth Sphere Alliance and the united oil-bearers aspired to control the world- and they have succeeded!"
Lunacy, thought Markim. Second step: Crying injustice.
"I know what you are thinking, Lieutenant. Yes, you believe that this is indeed a paranoia of mine, a belief in conspiracy, but look about you- it has succeeded. I am not Hitler nor Bin Laden, neither Pol Pot nor McCarthy, neither Sukowa nor Barton; I do not believe that those who are in control are of any specific race, religion, or political affiliation. In fact, they don't want such identities. The entire world is wrapped up all shiny and nice in the wrapping paper of uniformity and solidarity and conformity. The Earth Sphere Unified Nations is the ribbon that ties the prize. All of humanity kowtows to World President Churchill and that damned teenage pacifist. Why? Because they won the wars, and so they must be right and must have the right to rule the Earth, right? The masses have been won over by their triumph. The destruction of two hundred sovereign nations is upon their hands. All thanks to her."
"Though we have received much funding from the ESUN Peacekeeping Department, most of our economic aid and equipment is from the Sanc Kingdom, with may thanks to Deputy Minister Peacecraft," said General Henry Patrick, leading them through a reinforced metal hallway containing many barricaded doors, each opening as they went through.
He barely heard him. Duo was talking his ear off about all sorts of typical claptrap. Of course, they had much to catch up with, but Heero simply did not want to know how Hilde Scheibaker (newly engaged to Duo) was doing. Some tidbits were truly informative: Trowa was in Europe on tour with Catherine, Howard had built the Peacemilion II, and Quatre was AWOL, but the rest were merely blather.
They stopped in front of the biggest of the ports. It was as high as a garage door, and was probably several feet thick. "Heero, now you have an idea about the what and the who, it is time for the how and the why."
General H.P. inserted a card at a console. It scanned both his hands, his retinas, and had him whisper a password into a microphone. Access granted. The door of the Central Intelligence Armory slid open, and they stepped in.
Inside was a control room of sorts, large as an auditorium. Heero examined room. In front of them were six technicians busily working at terminals. There were dozens, though, divided into four rows split in the middle by an aisle. It resembled the Mission Control of spaceports. On the far wall was a giant electronic map of the world with hundreds of lines and thousands of dots on it. On the right side of the room was a mechanical monstrosity- a great mainframe, covered with a jungle of wiring and strange components and connected to five tanks of coolant to prevent the overheating of the circuitry. Like some sort of heart of a metallic alien hive, its great mass connected to the wall and cords hung in each direction.
"Welcome to our Armory, Mr. Yuy," pronounced the General with an air to grandeur.
"This is our nerve center, our central processing unit, our cerebrum. This is where each and every web all the spiders of the Earth Sphere contact and come together. Here is the focal point, here is our Echelon."
Duo glanced at him startlingly, "Wufei didn't tell me this was Echelon when he gave me this tour!"
The General looked amused. "Well, we have our different levels of intel. Indeed, this is Echelon, or rather its offspring. Mr. Yuy."
"Echelon was a project conceived and rumored to be implemented by North American and European intelligence agencies in the AD Twentieth Century, during the First Cold War. It was an electronic system that could link trillions of bits of information at once, so that any movement or scheme attempted by the Russo-Communists could be thwarted. However, after the beginning of the Islamism War and the subsequent failure of NorAm spies it was thought to be overrated and simply a myth."
"Indeed. However, the truth is that Echelon was always real. There were many struggles to keep control of it during the ages, too many and too boring to mention all. But in the end, Echelon became a property of the Sanc Kingdom. The King Sanc I managed to buy it from the remnants of the Universal Socialists in a secret agreement to shut it down. By then this web had truly shrunk, and was almost worthless."
He pointed at the supercomputer on the right. "And we made it all better again. First, it's links are all based on stealth Satcomm. Second, all of our nodes have server computers with laser hardware- not experimental ones, but actual optic circuits. In fact, every terminal here on this island runs on O.C.s. Last, that mainframe holds everything together. We call it Alpha-Omega.
"It is the first of its kind, a computer with enough power to sweep through the Net, copy every single sector, and store it all with room to spare. It's an H.Z.P., the Helix Zetta Processor, named because the number of bytes it can process in a second in ten to the twenty-first power. It doesn't run on O.C.s, but rather organic circuits- it's hell to maintain, but once it gets started, it can administer sextillions of calculations. And the reason why we need Alpha-O is this."
General Henry Patrick gestured to the massive screen. "This is EMPATHY- Earth-Sphere Multi-Variable Processing and Adminstration of Telemetric Human analYsis. It's Echelon's greatest great-great-great-great-great-grandchild. It not only combines every single bit of data we receive- military intelligence, national intelligence, reports of social stability, statistics of every kind, etc., but it acts as our Oracle. It is the Zero System of geopolitical simulation. It tells us the future of the world."
He whispered to a nearby technician, who immediately typed a command on a computer. The giant screen flashed and the map was divided into many regions of color.