Sorry for the late (Late? More like nonexistent) updates…
It's just I'm pretty overworked. College and the need to write my own original
novel have eaten much of my time.
This is a guest chapter written by my good friend Arkbot...
Before you say anything, I KNOW he does it better than me!
Still, I did rewrite part of it. It's easy to find the part I re-wrote… it's worse
than the rest of the chapter. Hehehe.
By the way, Mak… it takes a lot to overheat the Gundam's joints.
Draw your own conclusions, but all will be revealed soon…
Without further ado, the chapter!
December 10, UC 0079
Chicago colony was just as he'd remembered it. The sprawling streets, the near-total urbanization, the lights that glowed like the stars-if Michel could, he would've opened the cockpit hatch to the concrete playground below and ran through the streets screaming in joy.
"Michel, do you read me?" the voice of Sergeant Terry Sanders crackled through the radio, interrupting Michel's ruminations.
"I read you." Michel swung the barrel of the steel gray 90mm machinegun in a slow sweep of Main Street. His monitor bathed the cockpit in green light from the night vision filtering through the GM Command's visor. It was just past midnight on what should have been the beginning of an uneventful Tuesday. Aside from a handful of late night drunks stumbling home and police on patrol, there was nothing unusual in the colony. "What is it?"
As he scanned the street, Michel sighted a familiar building. Four stories tall and lined by balconies, the brick structure generated one word in his mind: home. That was the apartment building he and B.B.'s families had lived in before he had enlisted.
"I just got a call from somebody claiming to be the head of the civil defense force. You wanna talk to him?"
"You're the one with the higher rank."
"Yeah, but this is your colony. I think the guy would appreciate our presence a little better if you told him why we're here."
Michel sighed. "All right, put him."
An image popped up on the corner monitor of a middle aged man wearing the brown uniform of the Riah Defense Force.
"Who is this?" he demanded.
"Corporal Michel Ninorich of the Federal Forces. We're here to help."
"If you want to help, then get the hell off the colony!"
"Sir, the Zeeks are coming to attack this colony even as we speak!"
"How do you know that? The Zeons weren't attacking us until you showed up!"
"Well-"
"Michel, Sanders, heads up!" James' voice cut in. "You've got incoming, south end! Three Zakus, all loaded with G-3 grenade launchers."
"There, you see? The Zeeks are coming to kill every last person on the colony, and they don't care how many people die!"
The graying man studied Michel for a moment. "You swear you'll do your best to protect the colony?"
"I swear. This is my home colony."
The man smiled. "All right, then. I'm Chief Debonis. We're deploying Draken-Es and helicopters to patrol the colony. We'll let you know if we see anything."
"Thank you. Leave the mobile suits to us."
"Understood. Debonis, out." The corner monitor winked to black.
"Here we go," Michel mumbled under his breath.
"Michel, let's move! We need to get the south bay block before the Zeeks get in," Sanders ordered.
"Huh? Why would the Zeeks come through the bay block when they can just attack from anywhere they want?" Michel wondered aloud.
"I don't know why, kid. Maybe they want the colony intact for some reason. Whatever it is, I don't care. Right now, we need to get moving."
"Right." Michel took one last look at the apartment building. Homecoming would have to come later; if he didn't fight, the Zeeks would kill everyone in the colony. With a burst of blue light, the GM Command launched into the air for the bay block.
Pathetic. You call yourself a soldier. Look out there. Half a dozen mobile suits against a whole fleet of Zeon ships and mobile suits. My God, were you trying to get everyone killed for nothing?
Such were the thoughts that raced through the mind of ex-Zeon 2nd Lieutenant Keith Holt. Trapped in the cockpit of the overheated RX-78-2 Gundam, known to Zeon military forces as the White Devil, he could do nothing but watch helplessly as the olive and gray mobile suit approached. The Gundam refused to budge, the controls stiff and resisting his best efforts to move them. So Keith drifted in space, unable to maneuver or attack. Unable to save himself.
The pressure in his mind was growing. So unlike anything he had ever felt, the only comparison Keith could make was to his mobile suit combat instructor back at the Zeon Military Academy. A mean spirited dog of a man, he brutalized the cadets into soldiers. Keith could still remember the way he would jump to attention whenever he thought the man was near. The experience had been a withering one, with Keith living in almost constant fear of the instructor, terrified that he might be watching.
What was wrong with him? Nothing like this had happened in combat before. Even going up against Anavel Gato or Colonel Sceers hadn't sparked such a reaction. It was as though Keith could feel the strength and malevolence emanating from the Zeon mobile suit. A chill passed through him, leaving his blood to run cold.
What's happening to me?
Curled in a ball in a desperate struggle to retain his body heat, Keith looked up at the monitor. The computer tracked the incoming Zeon suit, which cautiously weaved its way through the debris of the Zaku IIs Keith had destroyed moments ago.
"Why don't you hurry up and get it over with?" The question came out barely above a whisper.
The feeling grew stronger. Evil. That was the only word Keith could describe it as. Nothing else fit.
The computer enhanced the image of the mobile suit, now floating freely in space. Green chested and limbs painted in a dull gray, the mobile suit reminded Keith of the Rick Dom with its thick armor. Gripped in its right arm was what appeared to be a beam rifle.
So they finally did it. Not a beam cannon, a genuine beam rifle. That must be one of those Gelgoogs that I heard Lady Kycilia was testing.
It struck Keith as odd that he calmly analyzed the enemy in what was to be the final moment of his life. He had heard that your entire life supposedly flashed before your eyes in a moment when that time came. If that were true, he would rather focus on the Gelgoog. The past was dead; best to leave it there.
Keith gave the monitor one last pleading look. The Gelgoog gripped its beam rifle with both hands, aimed at him. Amber light grew in the barrel. He shut his eyes and waited for the end.
"No you don't!" Norris Packard threw his Zaku II into the Zeon mobile suit's side, shoulder spikes first. Ramming the suit's pauldron, he was rewarded with seeing the Zeon miss shooting the Gundam, though not by a comfortable margin.
Bringing a 90mm machinegun taken from Luna II to bear, Norris squeezed off a few rounds, but the Zeon already moved out of the way. He's fast!
Hitting the radio, he said, "James, get going! Grab Eledore and cover the ships! I can handle this!"
Truthfully, he wasn't completely confident that he could. But that was beside the point. Right now, he had a duty to perform, and he would do so to the best of his abilities.
Or he would die trying.
"Good luck, old man!" Federal Forces 2nd Lieutenant James Bernaria shouted as he ignited the thrusters of his RX-77-2 Guncannon. Blue light exploded from the red mobile suit's backpack, propelling it forward to the colony. James didn't like leaving Norris to fend against that new Zeon mobile suit by himself, but the man had a point. Eledore couldn't hold off the Zakus swarming him forever. If even one made it through to the colony and successfully fired its payload, it would be a disaster.
Flying through the silence of space with only the constant hum of the thrusters to keep him company, James nervously tapped the throttle with the yellow gloved hand of his flight suit. There were a dozen Zeon ships out there. No matter how skilled or lucky the crew and captains of the Osiris and Speranza, they couldn't hope to destroy such a large force. No one was that good.
But what other choice did they have? The Zeons had proven that the Antarctic Treaty no longer bound them. Jaburo was gone, destroyed in a pair of nuclear fireballs. And according to Captain Kawada, more nukes had been detonated on Terra's surface. Zeon had to be stopped, that much was certain.
A beep on the computer snapped James back to reality. The Space Tank filled the screen, firing off pink bursts from its beam rifle. A shot speared one of the new Zaku IIs that had appeared. Piercing just below the head, secondary explosions ripped through the olive mobile suit. The torso of the Zaku blew apart in a ball of flames, shredding the machine's torso.
Before James could celebrate, a trio of Zaku Is with unfamiliar guns blew past the Space Tank and headed for the south colony bay block. Blue thruster wash exploded from beneath the unwieldy machine as it struggled to give chase. James tried to track the Zeon suits, but they were already beyond the range of his beam rifle.
Slamming his fist on the radio, James cried, "Forget it, Eledore! We can't help them now."
"What're you talking about? They've got grenade launchers loaded with G-3 gas! Michel and Sanders can't handle that many Zakus by themselves!" Eledore's voice crackled through the Minovsky interference.
"They'll have to." Surprise rippled through James over how cold his voice sounded. "Right now we need to give the Speranza and Osiris some cover. I don't know about you, but I'd like to have a ship to return to."
After a moment's hesitation, Eledore grumbled, "Fine! Let's get going."
With that, the Space Tank continued its lazy turn, this time back towards the distant pinpricks of light that were the clashes between Federal and Zeon ships.
Before he followed suit, James hit the radio and said, "Michel, Sanders, heads up! You've got incoming, south end! Three Zakus, all loaded with G-3 grenade launchers."
Not waiting for a response, James threw the throttle and took off for the battle.
"Hey, kid, the hatch's opening. Stay sharp. Wait 'til I fire to join in." Sanders' voice came in clear through the radio.
"Gotcha."
Now hovering near the bay block entrance in the center of the colony where the artificial gravity wasn't present, Michel and Sanders had positioned themselves so that they could catch the incoming Zeeks in a crossfire without shooting at each other. Sanders' RGM-79 lay flat against the colony wall so that the sliding door opened towards him, 90mm machinegun stretched out and clasped in both hands. Any mobile suits that flew out would be above his head, making them easy targets. In his specialized for colony combat RGM-79G, Michel floated a few meters out from the wall and to the side of the hatch. His 90mm aimed squarely at the rolling slab of metal, he was perfectly lined up to strafe the invading Zeeks.
I hope you're watching, B.B.
Sanders trained his machinegun on where the Zeek mobile suits were going to appear. Once upon a time, he had been terrified of going into combat for a third time with the same team. That had usually meant the destruction of said teammates. But the time for such fear was past. He had faced his demons and was stronger for it. The mission may be hopeless, but he refused to give up without a fight.
His breath grew heavy, just as it did every time before he entered combat. The anticipation killed him. The waiting, the wondering of whether or not this would be his last battle.
Before his eyes, Sanders saw and heard Michel's 90mm fire. Bullets zipped into the hatch and were answered in kind.
"Michel, move your ass!" he yelled.
Obediently, the GM Command's thruster flared, jerking the white suit out of the hail of fire. Michel continued to fire into the hatch, but one Zaku I blasted its way past him and flew into the colony.
He needs to get into the middle of the colony if he wants to use the G-3 gas to maximum effectiveness. "Michel, go after him! I'll handle the rest."
"R-right!"
Peripherally, Sanders sensed the GM Command turn and pursue the lone Zeek. But he had other concerns at the moment. Pushing his thrusters to max, he shot forward and looped into the hatch. Two Zaku Is awaited him.
Time to show you Zeeks just how dangerous the Team Killer is!
An explosion rocked the bridge of the Speranza, jostling Warrant Officer Tiffany Patcher, one-time Medea Supply Corps officer and now acting captain of an assault carrier in the Federal Fleet, around in her command chair. "Damage report!"
Beyond the bridge and the men and women clad in Federation-issue white normal suits, the battle continued. Rick Doms and Zaku IIs swarmed around their mother Musais, acting as screens. The olive colored light cruisers unleashed their fury at the Speranza; amber light exploded from multiple points, all converging on the Federal ship. The pilot shouted something over the radio and jerked the Speranzain a maneuver that had Tiff gripping the armrests to keep still. When she looked up, a crippled Chivvay heavy cruiser, its command tower a mere stump, filled the view.
It took Tiff a moment to realize what the pilot had done. He had interposed the wrecked vessel between the Speranza and the Zeon fleet, simultaneously dodging the barrage and preventing them from getting a clear shot. With Minovsky particles jamming radar and tracking instruments, the Zeon gunners would be forced to rely upon visuals to target anything, greatly decreasing their accuracy.
Tiff smiled beneath her helmeted face. She could grow to like this crew.
"Where's that report?!" she snapped. On the other hand…
"We've lost the port side cannon, forty percent of the AA batteries, and half the missile launchers!" someone yelled through the radio.
Before Tiff could respond, another explosion knocked the bridge crew around. Thankfully, no one flew across the room. "What was that?!"
The same male voice answered. "The starboard engine nacelle is hit! It's gonna explode!"
"Eject it!"
"Yes, sir!"
With an audible groan, Tiff felt the nacelle physically separate from the Speranza. Scant moments later, yet another explosion visited the bridge.
"Status!"
"Helm is sluggish! We're lucky we can still maneuver, but not much."
"Hull integrity in the stern is gone, repeat, gone! We're sealing off those sections."
"Stern weapons are shot. We're helpless back here!"
Tiff closed her eyes as the reality of events closed in on her. The Speranza appeared to be destined for destruction, and her crew along with her. Weapons destroyed, maneuvering no longer worth mentioning, hull breached-there wasn't much life left to the girl. A pity that she had only been in operation for less than two weeks. With the ship destroyed, only Keith and the other mobile suit pilots would be left to resist the Zeons. Keith and James. Eledore and Sanders. Norris and Michel.
Tiff frowned. She had forgotten somebody. Who?
"What about the Osiris? Where is she?"
"She's below us and to starboard. She doesn't look good, sir."
The modified Magellan appeared on the main monitor, above the bridge. Indeed, from the angle the Speranza had of it, the vessel looked more like a child's toy that had been cooked in an oven than a warship. The mangled port hull was absent, exposing decks and crewmen to vacuum. Blue sparks raced across the disproportionally large barrel mounted on the bow of the ship. The remaining mega particle cannons spewed pink particle beams at a constant rate, something that was sure to put a strain on the damaged battleship.
"Can we contact Captain Kawada?"
"Negative. Minovsky density is too great."
"Any sign of our mobile suits?"
"No, sir."
"All right. Guns, is there anything we can target?"
"You're kidding, right?"
"No."
"Captain! The Osiris is firing!"
"What?"
Sure enough, the main monitor flashed bright as the modified Magellan fired its main weapon. The white shell shot through space and off screen, beyond the range of the Speranza's visual sensors.
I hope it was worth it.
I hope that was worth it.
"Damage report!" Captain Lee Kawada demanded.
"Sir! The railgun is slagged; we won't get another shot off."
"Tell me we hit something."
One of his aides spoke. "We can't be sure, sir, because of the Minovsky particles-"
"Yes or no, did we hit anything!?"
"I believe we may have damaged two, possibly three Musais with that last shot."
Kawada leaned into his seat and smiled. It had been a gamble, firing the railgun like that. But it worked. "So they've lost half their ships, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where are we on guns?"
This time the gunnery officer spoke. "Port side guns destroyed. We've still got the forward and starboard cannons, plus the AA batteries there. We're still in the fight."
"Thanks for the encouragement, Guns. What's the closest Zeon ship to us?"
"Looks like a Chivvay, the one hanging to the rear there."
"The flagship, perfect. Helm, rotate us to bring all the cannons to bear on that cruiser. Guns will tell you when you're in position. Try to keep our profile as narrow as possible. I don't want some Zeek gunner getting any bright ideas."
"Captain! Mobile suits, incoming!" the radar technician cried.
No! "How many? What direction?"
"Three suits, Doms. They're approaching us from port. They'll be in firing range in thirty seconds!"
Kawada felt the younger man's fear. The port hull lay open to attack, with no armor or AA batteries to defend with. Three mobile suits would be more than enough to destroy the Osiris. Anyone who had survived the Battle of Loum knew of the destructive power mobile suits had against ships.
"Helm, can we rotate fast enough to track them?"
"With half the apogee motors gone? Not fast enough."
"Fine. Continue to track that Chivvay. Fire as soon as it comes within firing range."
"Yes, sir!"
"Sir, shouldn't we try to escape?"
Under normal circumstances, Kawada found it hard enough to tolerate his aide. He was a good enough man in his own way, but better suited for a desk job than the frontlines. Kawada had argued with his assignment to the Osiris, but had lost to the lack of manpower that plagued the Federation.
"Mr. Gehr, our duty is to destroy as many Zeon ships as possible. Our survival at this point is a secondary."
A gulp filtered through the radio, followed by labored breathing.
"Is that Chivvay in range yet?"
"We are…now!"
"Fire at will! Make 'em count. Where are those Doms?"
A gasp answered Kawada. A glowing pink eye blocked the bridge view, outlined by the T-shaped face of an MS-09R Rick Dom.
Kawada felt stomach freeze. His luck had run out. Making it through the One Week Battle, surviving the Battles of Loum and Luna II-death had finally caught up with him.
In what seemed to be an eternity, the Rick Dom raised its massive bazooka and leveled the barrel with the bridge. Kawada forced his eyes to stay open. Whatever happened, he wanted to face his death without running.
Then a pink beam struck the Rick Dom. More accurately, the beam stuck the bazooka and the ammunition clip that housed shells. The shells exploded, shredding the suit's right arm and torso. The black and violet mobile suit careened to starboard, only to be caught by a concentrated antiaircraft salvo.
"What the hell was that?" Kawada barely muttered.
A Rick Dom blasted past the bridge, a GM Space Command right on its heels. The GM pumped half a dozen shots at the Zeon mobile suit, finally piercing the backpack and destroying the machine.
Cheers echoed through the radio as the radar operator announced, "We have six GMs taking up escort formation around us! The Doms have been eliminated. Additional GMs have formed up on the Speranza. Oh my God! Another assault carrier has appeared!"
"Well?" Kawada snapped. "Which is it?"
"It's the Gray Phantom
"Where the hell did that ship come from?!" Zeon Captain Quincy Conscon demanded of his crew. From out of nowhere, a new Feddie ship had appeared, throwing the outcome of the battle into doubt. And just as they were about to win!
"Well!"
"Sir, it seems as though it came from one of colonies. With the Minovsky density disrupting radar-"
"Never mind how it got here!" Conscon interrupted his executive officer. "I want it dead, now! The Trojan Horse can wait till later. What about that Magellan?"
"It seems to be retreating, sir. Some of our mobile suits are engaging the GMs that are protecting her; our forces can't make it through the defense line."
"Forget about it, then. Signal the Behemoth and Graf Zeppelin; I want a concentrated barrage on that new ship in thirty seconds. Missiles, main guns, everything! Fire on our signal."
"Um, sir, the Graf Zeppelin is too far to the rear to accurately target the Federal vessel. And the Behemoth is already exchanging fire with the ship."
"Fine!" Conscon shouted in exasperation. "Just target the Feddies and fire!"
"Yes, sir!"
A wolfish smile sneaked its way onto Conscon's face. I've got you now!
With an ease that would have scared him if he'd had to think about it, James Bernaria fired his beam rifle and speared another Zaku II. The green mobile suit exploded, peppering its identical partner, who quickly contributed to the mess when missiles swarmed it. A trio of the new Zaku IIs arrived to take their place, but a quartet of RGM-79GS GM Space Commands roared past James to challenge them.
Allowing for the newcomers to take over for him, James scanned his weapon displays. The beam rifle had enough energy for a handful of shots, but the 280mm cannons were shot. He'd taken a couple of bazooka rounds in the backpack from a Rick Dom earlier before Eledore blew it apart with a shot from his beam rifle. The Guncannon had held together, but one of the shoulder cannons had been blown clean off, shredding the left arm. The other cannon barrel resembled a crushed soda can.
Glancing around, he found the Space Tank floating nearby and flew to it, tricky business since the foot thrusters were all that James had to propel himself. Once he had closed the distance between the two machines, he reached out an arm and laid a hand on its head. "How're you doing, Eledore?"
"How do you think I'm doing! The missile pods are empty or blown to hell, the beam rifle won't fire, and I'm outta weapons!"
He sounds just a little bit pissed. "Look at the bright side. At least you won't have to ram anybody to keep fighting."
"Bright side? I'd rather be in one of those GMs and kicking some ass than stuck in this useless piece of shit!"
"Down boy! Talk like that won't help you kill Zeeks. C'mon, let's get back to the Speranza and leave the Zeeks to those guys."
"Fine, whatever. It's not like I'm getting anything done here anyway." Eledore sounded sullen, but that beat the anger of a few moments ago.
"You go ahead; I'll cover you."
Eledore mumbled an acknowledged before firing up the Space Tank's thrusters and began trudging back to the Speranza. Tracking the Space Tank with one eye, James took one last survey of the battlefield. With the arrival of the new assault carrier and its GMs, the battle had shifted in their favor. More than half of the original twelve Zeon ships were destroyed, along with a good chunk of their mobile suit force. James hadn't heard anything from the colony, but he assumed that Sanders could keep an eye on Michel. Only a few Zakus escaped James and Eledore before they retreated to cover the ships. Sanders and Michel could handle them.
Or so he hoped.
The Zaku's pilot was good, all right. Michel had been playing hide-and-seek with the Zeek for the last fifteen minutes inside the city, all to no avail. He had managed to nail the grenade launcher before the Zeek had fled into the darkened city and disappeared. Any attempts to get the pilot to surrender were answered with silence. It made no sense. Unable to accomplish his mission, the Zeek's best option was to surrender. But for some reason, the Zeek refused to give up.
Michel wanted to scream in frustration. What's wrong with this guy? Doesn't he see that he's better off giving up than trying to escape? At this rate, someone might die!
"He's on Main Street, heading south! He just passed the court house!" the voice of one of the colony's civil defense force officers squawked through the radio.
"I'm on it!" Michel shot the GM Command into the air for the colony's busiest roadway. The sudden acceleration slammed him into his seat, but Michel pushed past the force. I won't let you hurt anyone!
A few moments later, he landed with a crash on the wide road, but managed to keep the GM's footing. Swinging the 90mm machinegun to where the Zaku I should have been, Michel barely got a glimpse of the blue-and-green mobile suit before it ducked down another road.
Oh no you don't! The GM flew into the air once more, hoping to intercept the Zaku. Pushing more power to the thrusters, Michel hurled over the streets and past the Zeon suit. He twisted the GM midair in a gut wrenching maneuver that his stomach protested, verniers flaring to keeping up.
It worked. The maneuver left Michel facing the Zaku as he sailed through the air. Lighting up the thrusters, he killed his rear momentum and flew towards the Zeek, crashing to the ground before him. The GM automatically straightened itself, leveling its 90mm machinegun at the mono-eyed mobile suit. The lights of the street, combined with the darkness, illuminated the Zaku in an eeriness that the malevolent glowing mono-eye only contributed to.
Gotcha! Toggling the radio, Michel said, "To the Zeon mobile suit, this is your last chance! Surrender, and I'll spare your life."
The Zaku I didn't budge.
What's he doing? "Hey, didn't you hear me!? If you don't give up, and right now, you're going to die!"
The monitor in the corner flared to life with Sanders appearing on it. "Michel, what's your situation?"
Michel looked up at the tiny image. "Nothing I can't handle. I'll be done in just a second."
As Michel turned his attention back to the Zeek, he moved. The Zaku darted forward and slammed a right hook into the GM Command's head, shattering the visor and crushing one of the Vulcans. Composite metals fell to the street below, clanking as the pieces landed. In the cockpit, the monitors erupted in static.
In a panic, Michel squeezed the trigger. 90mm rounds ripped from the machinegun, spraying across the Zaku's midriff. Michel shoved the GM's shield between them and pushed.
Clunk.
As the Zaku began to fall, its fingers grasped the shield and clung around the edges, dragging the GM down with it.
"Ahhh!" Michel cried as he slammed his eyes shut. He felt himself falling, that dizzying sensation as the g-forces lightened and his stomach threatened to empty itself through his mouth. Then he crashed against the shoulder straps. Miraculously, they held. The left monitor shattered, spraying shards all over the cockpit and peppering his arm.
Trying hard to ignore the stinging in his left arm, Michel muttered, "What's wrong with this guy?"
Michel ejected the shield, hopefully pinning the Zeek in place for awhile. He pushed the GM's arms out, lifting the 56-ton mobile suit to its hands and knees. The backup camera finally popped online, restoring his vision.
Broken gravel welcomed him.
"Where'd he go?" Michel wondered aloud.
Beepbeepbeep.
Michel snapped his head up, only to see the Zaku's leg filling the monitor. Jamming down on the trigger, the Vulcans fired. The Vulcan that had been damaged by the earlier attack blew metal chunks in all directions. The other spat 60mm rounds at the leg, chewing up the high tensile steel.
Suddenly, the cockpit rattled again. On the monitor, something tan slammed into the gravel, propelled by the blue fisted Zaku I. Michel realized in horror that the Zeek had just ripped the GM's head off.
Shoving his arms forward, the backpack ignited. The GM Command lurched forward and tackled the Zaku in a giant bear hug.
"Just die already!" Michel pushed the thrusters to the limit, shooting the two mobile suits down the street. The Zaku thrashed in the GM's embrace but could not escape.
"Are you insane?! You'll kill us both!" the Zeek yelled through the skin com.
Michel did not let up. He poured every last milliliter of propellant into the thrusters, against the protests of his bloody left arm.
In a grand close befitting the fight, the two mobile suits collided with one of the buildings. The duo plowed through the (relatively) short structure before screeching to a halt on the street behind the building.
Breathing heavily, Michel sighed with relief that the Zaku remained on the ground unmoving. It was only when he scanned the operational monitors that something struck him as wrong. Bricks were scattered everywhere on the street.
Then it hit him.
Zeon Captain Erik von Helsing had to give the Federal Forces credit; they were putting up a terrific fight, despite their numerical inferiority. In the time since combat began, the Federal vessels managed to damage or destroy many times their number. Von Helsing could not think of many warship captains that matched the sheer ferocity of these enemies.
"Lieutenant, what is the status of the fleet?" he asked his aide in a clipped accent befitting his German heritage. For a moment, von Helsing worried about the vulnerability of his crew. The unexpected presence of the Federal Forces forced them to forego the normal suits they usually wore in combat. If the enemy succeeded in striking the Graf Zeppelin, the chances of surviving were indeed low.
"Sir, Lieutenant Commander Fitzloff and the Leviathan squadron have been destroyed. One of Captain Conscon's Musais has also been sunk, as has one of Commander Athans'," the helmeted man answered.
"Mobile suit count?"
"Before the enemy ships broadcast Minovsky particles, we had lost twelve suits, all Zakus."
"Against six mobile suits? Why are our pilots fighting like children?"
"Well, sir, most of them are draftees fresh out of pilot training. They've been fully trained, but they lack combat experience."
Von Helsing said nothing. His anger kept him from saying anything. This mission was supposed to be a milk run, as the men called it. Proceed to Side 6, wave the proverbial flag around in a show of force the Riah government, and in the meantime search for the hidden Federation base that Intelligence said was located in one of the colonies.
Instead, he and his men were fighting and dying against a skilled foe that may be beyond any of them. Von Helsing cared about the men under his command; he did not spend their lives recklessly. They were sons of Zeon, not the scum of Terra. Cannon fodder tactics better suited the pigs that were weighed down by gravity.
"Status of the enemy fleet?" he finally managed to bite out.
"The Trojan Horse is still hiding behind the wreckage of the Leviathan." I knew that ship would be trouble. Dammit, Conscon, that was the vessel that killed Garma Zabi and the Black Tri-Stars! Attacking the Trojan Horse was out. There still might be crewmen alive on the Leviathan; von Helsing would not be responsible for killing them when they could yet live. "The Magellan has pulled back beyond firing range and it appears that multiple GMs have formed a screen around it." Another option gone. "The third Fed ship is advancing on Commander Athans' fleet, with its GMs pushing our forces back."
"Is-"
"Sir, the Gwanza is taking fire from the Feddie ship!"
"What!? Put it on the main monitor." Immediately, the flagship Chivvay appeared on the monitor, her bridge aflame and bow in tatters. Mega particle beams danced across the crimson heavy cruiser, leaving death wherever they touched.
"I'm taking command of the fleet! Launch the signal flare to retreat; we can't accomplish our objectives. Lay down a missile barrage to cover the Behemoth and our mobile suits. Get us out of here as fast as possible." Silently, von Helsing added: we have lost.
Former Zeon Captain Norris Packard found himself in the battle of his life. Never before had his skills as a soldier been tested to his limits like they were now. Piloting an MS-06S Zaku II, the last Zeon mobile suit given to the 'Odessa Avenger' Keith Holt before the Jaburo Incident, Norris knew he was outclassed. No amount of skill or experience could make up the difference in performance between the Zaku II and the bulky Zeon mobile suit he faced.
But destroying the Zeon suit wasn't Norris' objective. Delaying him long enough to get the Gundam back up and running was. All Keith needed was a little time.
Time Norris was rapidly running out of.
The final rocket spewed from the bazooka clasped in the Zaku's right hand, exploding on impact. To his horror, Norris saw that his foe had survived with only a heavily damaged shield. Swiftly, it retaliated with a few potshots at Norris. Jerking the Zaku in an erratic pattern, Norris avoided the amber particle beams, but he could feel the mobile suit groan in protest. This wasn't designed for this level of combat. I can't keep this up forever.
The Zeon fired again, this time shearing off the Zaku II's right arm. Norris returned the favor with a burst of his machinegun. The rounds caught the exposed left arm, drilling into the forearm and elbow. Blackened holes appeared where gray steel had previously been unblemished, punctuated by flashes of electricity.
C'mon, Keith, where are you?
"Why is he still fighting?" Keith asked as he watched the duel unfold between Norris and the Gelgoog. "Doesn't he realize I'm not worth saving?"
The dancing figures, silver and gray, flew across his monitor in an intricate waltz that only experienced soldiers could follow. A lunge, a parry, a burst of machinegun fire, a beam rifle firing-that was the dance that they played.
His monitor flashed insistently. Tearing his eyes from the fighters, Keith focused his eyes on the glowing schematic on the side monitor. All green.
Then there is hope.
Reaching out, Keith grasped the controls. They felt cold to his touch, even through the white gloves of his flight suit. He tapped the throttle and was rewarded with the Gundam's thrusters flaring. More confident, he tightened his grip on the controls. I can do this.
The beam sabers had less than a minute of operation time left in them. It would have to be enough.
In a flash of blue light, the Gundam climbed rapidly towards Norris and the Gelgoog. Every cell of his being concentrated on closing the gap between them. Nothing would hinder him. Within seconds, the distance separating them was gone.
His timing was perfect. The Zaku II had lost its right arm, and its legs were stumps that ended at the knee and waist armor. The Gelgoog had lined up its beam rifle with the cockpit, leaving no chance for Norris to dodge.
Pink lances blazing to life in either hand, the Gundam sliced the Zeon's beam rifle in half. The Gelgoog released the beam rifle just as it exploded. Keith plowed through the fireball and slashed at the Zeon suit with his left saber, only for it to collide with the Gelgoog's own beam blade. The two stood for a half-second that seemed to last an age, the amber glow of the Gundam's eyes meeting the unyielding pink glare of the Gelgoog's mono-eye.
Screaming, Keith stabbed his right saber straight through the Zeon machine's face, punctuated by secondary explosions. Before he could move it downward to finish the job, the Gelgoog swung its beam saber, lopping off the right arm of the Gundam just above the elbow. Keith quickly swung his left saber again, only for it to again clash with his foe's own energy blade. In shock, he saw that the Gelgoog's saber seemed to have sprouted another blade from the other end of its saber hilt.
I can't beat him in an outright melee... Desperately searching for something to help slow down his opponent, Keith's fingers found the Vulcans. Aiming them for where he roughly guessed the enemy Suit's secondary cameras would be, he hammered the trigger with a silent prayer to whatever deity looked after outmatched MS pilots.
He couldn't believe his luck; the Zeon Suit staggered back, lifting its left arm up to protect its "eyes" with a general manner that looked like it was somehow in pain. Seizing his chance, Keith swung his remaining beam saber with a renewed resolve not to miss. The blade neatly, cleanly sliced off the Gelgoog's right arm, the double-ended saber dying as the power was cut.
To his shock, the Zeon recovered much faster than he'd hoped. Its left arm lunged forward, grabbing the Gundam's own and pulling it. Gritting his teeth, Keith slammed on the verniers, hoping his MS would be able to escape the gray-and-green monstrosity's grip.The pink beam still held in the Gundam's hand began to splutter and fizzle out, even as the Gelgoog began to slowly wrench its forearm from its housing.
The creak of tortured Luna Titanium began to increase in volume; the Gelgoog had the sheer power needed to win this mechanical tug-of-war. Deactivating the saber, Keith quickly let go of it before turning the Gundam's Vulcans towards it. He only hoped he'd be able to survive after doing this; maybe the saber wouldn't have the power left to achieve the effect he wanted. On the other hand, it might have too much.
He fired. 60mm shells shredded the saber and caused it to empty its last remaining energy in a blinding fireball, even as Keith made one last push with his verniers. The blast blew his suit back, even as he righted himself he saw he hadn't saved the Gundam's forearm: its mangled remains now lay in the equally-ruined Gelgoog arm's grip. Still, a stalemate was a pretty good result considering he'd never fought an enemy with such power before.
Keith then noticed an incoming transmission; quickly he put it through.
"Gundam, you hear me?" The range finder showed the transmission came from the Zeon, which was now floating slowly away.
"Trying to surrender? If you are, I accept."
"You Feddies are all alike, you know that? Think just because you're from Terra that you can step all over us."
Keith frowned beneath his helmet. Had he ever been like this? "Cut the crap. If Zeon was really interested in Spacenoid independence, you wouldn't've murdered all those innocents in the One Week War!"
Telltale signs of thrusters flickered over the Gelgoog. "Innocents? Don't be stupid. They supported the Federation, whether they knew it or not."
"That doesn't justify anything! They weren't fighting for the Feddies!"
The Gelgoog was almost out of radio range now. "Of course they were. If they had been real Spacenoids, they would have supported the ideals of Zeon Deikun and joined us. There can be no neutrality in this war-you're either with us or against us."
Keith opened his mouth with a retort, but the transmission cut off. The Zeon was gone.
"Hey, Gundam, you alive?" a voice crackled through the radio. Keith looked up on his monitor. A pair of red and white GM Space Commands approached him, one peeling off to investigate Norris in the Zaku II. The other continued on its course for him.
Keith took one last look in the direction of the Gelgoog. "Yeah, I'm alive. Let's get out of here."
Temporary author's notes: greetings one and all. I go by the name Arkbot on here, though if you happen to hang around Gundam Watch or other Gundam forums, you'll find me running around as plain ol' Ark. I'm honored with the opportunity I have in contributing to Federation's End, and I hope that I do an adequate job of filling Tommah-Kun's boots.
For those of you wondering why so much of the dialogue shows up in italics, that's just my way of distinguishing radio transmissions. That's why none the Gwanza or Graf Zeppelin's crews have them: they're not in normal suits, since the Speranza and Osiris showed up out of nowhere and surprised them.
Mecha info: Captain von Helsing is indeed canon (though his first name is made up, same as Conscon's). His fleet (the Graf Zeppelin, plus the Siegfried and Valkyrie) are the ships featured in Gundam 0080 that cover Bernie as he infiltrates Libot in episode 2, as well as attempting to nuke the place later in the series. I figured that by this point, only a handful of United Maintenance Plan products would have made it to the battlefield, hence only von Helsing and the Mobile Assault Force squadrons being equipped with UMP mobile suits.