"You guessed?"
Another day, another place—and this time, it was Marshal Noventa, speaking to Treize with eyebrow raised.
Zechs supposed that, compared to the previous inquiry into Specials' activities, Treize was moving up in the world. The last inquiry had been public; this one was private. The last one had included a large number of Alliance brass; this one was quite exclusive. General Compton, now twice disgraced, was not invited, and no one of lower rank than him was sitting on the panel. This time, Treize and Zechs were allowed to sit; to compensate, the sessions were much longer at a stretch.
It showed simultaneously that Specials was held in higher esteem and that it was considered much more dangerous.
"Yes sir," said Treize. "We guessed."
"You risked the lives of those governors on a guess?" Noventa repeated.
"Yes, sir. We did." Treize showed no hint of embarrassment or regret when he spoke. Zechs marveled at his superior. "We" is an overstatement. He left the planning and execution of this mission completely up to me, knowing full well he'd be the one who'd have to answer for my decisions. That is having faith in your subordinate.
"Explain the reasoning that was behind this educated approximation," Noventa continued.
Zechs blinked. That's an unexpected relief—Noventa himself gave us the benefit of the doubt. Treize answered the question. "This was our reasoning. We assumed that, given the large size of the operation and the cramped conditions in the command room, the rebels would not hold the hostages there. If not there, then where? The geographic center of the building is the most logical. It allows the rebels to guard against rescue attempts from any direction equally well. The interior of the building was well away from any windows, while the rebels could keep the hostages under threat whether troops came from the first floor or the roof. The rebels were also counting on base defenses and their exterior troops to hold any rescue attempt at bay.
"When Lieutenant Zechs entered the base, he fired three rounds into the building's top two floors. The effect was to turn the roof and top two floors into giant stairs, allowing a single operative to get to the hostages from above without being seen. It was a move the captors could not have anticipated because it had never been attempted. The infiltration of this operative was concealed amongst the chaos of a quick strike, and because it was so small the rebels were caught unaware. The rebels guarding the hostages were killed before they could figure out who was shooting at them. So that part of the operation was, in fact, very safe.
"That was the plan and these are the facts, as proven by events and subsequent interrogations. All the planning was based only off of the information available at the moment. In other words, we read their moves, because they were the same ones we would have made."
"That's an interesting way to put it," piped in General Septum. "You thought out what you would do to hold the Alliance for ransom? What inspired this experiment?"
"Sir, there is a group of personnel in Specials whom I have instructed to think along precisely those lines," Treize said. "What if we were rebels—what would we do to hurt the Alliance? It's only reasonable, since counter-insurgency is the Alliance's main type of combat operation. As I said, I have men who do nothing but think of ways to disassemble the Alliance."
Zechs stifled a smile. Of course—everyone in Specials!
"Once we've figured that out," Treize continued, "we can work on ways to solve problems in advance. It was especially true in this case. I had already registered formal complaints that it seemed likely an attack was in the works. When I was ignored, I directed my planners to begin thinking about a situation like this."
"It's disturbing that you believe your possession of such a unit gives you the right to act without consulting Alliance command," said Septum. "The rest of the Alliance has such units also. Your act was dangerous, ignored the input of other equally- or better-qualified tacticians, and endangered the lives of the governors."
Treize lowered his head like he was fighting a wind, and Zechs knew he'd been awaiting this question. "As in the case of the attack on Pokhran, there was no time to waste. I had forces in the area that could solve the problem, so I acted. In each case, time was critical. There was no time to discuss the interception of the attack on Pokhran. There was no time to discuss possibilities with the Alliance's problem-solving unit when the governors were kidnapped. Every moment of delay in those instances would have made the problems exponentially worse. An officer is expected to act on his own initiative in cases of dire emergency. That's the purpose of having officers—to know when action must be taken, to know when to break the rules."
He bowed his head. "I submit that these incidents were times when there was no choice but to operate outside of the Alliance hierarchy. Indeed, I shall be bolder than that: I propose that it was precisely because we acted independently and immediately that we resolved these conflicts so successfully."
The officials on the board began to murmur amongst themselves. Zechs wondered what they were saying. Even if he couldn't know specifics, he wanted to know if they were impressed or appalled by Treize's audacity.
Or, most likely, both at once.
"Keep in mind the results of our actions," Treize plowed on. "In two separate engagements, my pilots have destroyed twenty mobile suits, forty tanks, inflicted almost a hundred casualties, captured seventy more soldiers, protected a stockpile of nuclear weapons, saved the lives of the governors of Africa, and protected Alliance interests and property in the process. All at the cost of one mobile suit destroyed, three damaged, and one pilot killed. It would be extraordinary to punish such a sterling record."
Zechs contained a wince. As accurate as that assessment is, he may have blown it at the end. It sounds like he's telling the generals what they should think of his actions, and that's overstepping a bit.
Then again, he's trying to justify ignoring all the people he's talking to now. In for a penny, in for a pound—not being bold here would be worst of all.
Now General Vente, commander of Earth-bound forces, chipped in. He held up a stack of papers so that the panel, as well as Treize and Zechs, could see it. "You seem to have made some favorable impressions. This is a formal thank-you, drafted by Governor Magadu of Somalia and signed by twenty-eight out of the thirty governors you saved. All of them are convinced that your operation was conducted with their safety as your utmost concern. It's remarkable that you were gambling with these men's lives, yet they still think so highly of you and you subordinates."
Zechs was thankful for his mask. I never heard about that. What a terrific PR job, Noin!
Marshal Noventa stood, causing everyone in the room to stand reactively. "Lieutenant Colonel Treize Khushrenada, you are excused. The members of this panel will discuss your actions and your arguments. We will recall you when we have decided your fate."
Treize saluted, snapped a turn, and exited the room sharply, Zechs on his heels. "That went well," Treize said.
"You really think so?" said Zechs. Of course he does. He wouldn't have said it otherwise.
Treize nodded. "We haven't yet gotten to the point I want, but we're working on it. Perhaps one more battle or crisis will do it." Before Zechs could ask what point Treize was referring to, his boss changed subject. "By the way, good work with the governors."
Zechs looked down, hiding the unmasked part of his face. "Sir… I had very little to do with that. It was all Lieutenant Noin."
"Really?" Zechs braced for his superior to push him on the issue again, but Treize restrained himself. "I'd be grateful if you'd thank her for me."
Zechs felt that strange mix of embarrassment and protectiveness he always did when he discussed Noin with Treize. Again he couldn't explain why he felt it. He promised himself that, sooner or later, he would introduce his only two friends.
The two of them waited there for hours, discussing things—in the most veiled of terms, of course, given the setting—until an orderly told them that the panel was prepared to see them again.
This time no one was sitting. "Lieutenant Colonel Treize Khushrenada," said Marshal Noventa, "You have an almost diabolical ability to divide people in their opinions of you. There is no disputing that you acted without orders and in violation of the chain of command. However, there is also no disputing that you were extremely successful when you acted without orders. Your actions, despite the severe danger inherent in the circumstances, preserved the peace and stability of the Earth-sphere. For this reason, we will not punish you for your insubordination."
Yes! Zechs felt relief immediately, but the Marshal wasn't done.
"We would caution you against such reckless actions in any lesser circumstance than has already presented itself," he continued. "Finally, we have a new mission for the Specials Mobile Suit Corps. We want you to head up a punitive expedition. The prisoners you've captured have provided some valuable information, information we want you to capitalize upon. It turns out that the enemies you defeated at Pokhran and Hargeysa were in league. Seeing as you've involved yourself with them twice, it's only fitting that you and your unit finish this conflict. Full details will be presented outside of this forum."
He struck his gavel. "This board of inquiry is hereby closed."
A short blur later, and Zechs and Treize were aboard Treize's shuttle. Zechs wondered at his commander's dignified excitement.
"That could hardly have gone better," Treize said.
"Well, we did get off without punishment," said Zechs.
"But did you hear how he phrased it?" said Treize. "He said we shouldn't act like that "in any lesser circumstance". That's more than non-punishment. It's a tacit agreement that we should act boldly again in the future, should circumstances warrant. And now they're giving us another mission with which to prove ourselves."
"Sir, I doubt the Alliance brass is happy with us despite the results of our missions," Zechs said. "This mission is doubtlessly something dangerous and difficult."
"Then when we succeed on that mission," Treize said, unperturbed, "it will reflect even better on us, won't it?"
Zechs clenched his jaw, reining in his urge to say something he'd regret later. Treize spotted the slight motion, and smiled. "You don't appreciate my confidence," he said. "Should I doubt the skills of your pilots?"
Curse him, thought Zechs. Playing on the one shred of pride that I have! "No, sir," he said tiredly. "All of us are dedicated, skilled, and ready to fight. But there are situations even we can't deal with. I would rather you take the measure of situations more fully before we commit to them."
"We're committed either way, Zechs." Treize smiled. "Don't believe that I, of all people, would throw your lives away. I'm the person least willing to do that, remember? But the Alliance has given us this assignment, whether we like it or not, so we have little choice but to excel at it, don't we?"
"Of course, sir," said Zechs, feeling foolish.
"Our immediate task," Treize continued gently, "rather than bemoan our fate, is to size up the scenario we've been given and find a way to solve it. Lady Une and I will do a strategic overview, getting you the logistics and political aspects taken care of. Once that's complete, you will deploy with whatever Specials assets are available and accomplish the mission."
"Yes, sir."
It wasn't a pretty strategic picture.
Interrogations of the prisoners had shown that the backers for the attacks on Pokhran and Hargeysa were the same group. Specials' enemy was a coalition of Arabian emirates, traditional miniature monarchies that lacked a history of cohesiveness.
"The Arabian countries have a strange relationship with the Alliance," Treize told Zechs. "In ages past, those countries had valuable natural resources. As those resources began to run out, the nations used the profits to establish themselves as money markets and trading centers. Their locations astride Africa, Asia, and Europe benefited them as it had in olden days.
"In more modern times, it was the Middle Eastern countries that came to the aid of the floundering colony projects. With their money and diplomatic prestige, they rallied a number of countries to support the projects, and then reaped the rewards in terms of additional prestige and national wealth."
"But you said they lacked a history of cohesiveness," Zechs pointed out.
"I did, and they do. The debates over the colony issues were bitter and divisive. Even after the resolutions were complete, it was left to the individual countries to decide which colonies to support, and to what extent. This led to a disparity in choices of how much to support the colonies, and thus a disparity of the returns on the colonies' prosperity."
"And this hasn't helped to unify the area any, has it?" Zechs said ironically.
"Not in the least," Treize said. "Frankly, the fact that three or four emirates were acting in cooperation is surprising to me."
"About that," Zechs said. "History is fascinating, but how were any of the Middle East nations able to gather such military power without the Alliance noticing?"
Treize continued. "Because of their money and prestige, the Alliance would have had trouble being too brutish in relations with those countries. So, in exchange for heavy monetary tithes and diplomatic recognition of Alliance supremacy, the Middle Eastern countries won the right to be self-policing. Sadly, this agreement wiped out most of the financial rewards from investing in the colonies. Neither side was happy with the agreement, but both sides played it straight. It was a convenience, nothing more."
Zechs nodded. "So some of the Middle Eastern nations were fed up with the arrangement and decided to lash out. They were hoping to free themselves, or at least off-set the costs of self-rule."
"That's the summary," said Treize. "In other words, we're being given a task that wouldn't have happened if the other Middle East nations had done their jobs. For that reason, it's unlikely those nations will do their jobs now."
"That's unfortunate," said Zechs.
"Isn't it?" said Treize. "I'm pursuing some diplomatic options, but for the time being, you should plan on having no bases provided in the area."
"No bases?" asked Zechs. "Do it all by carrier? But that means that if we need to fall back, we won't be able to. Our ammunition and fuel will be strictly limited. That worked in the past, but that was because the battles we were in were sharp and short. This is an assault, it won't be like that."
"The tactical situation is worse than that," Treize said grimly. "The Alliance has refrained from using satellites on the area as part of its agreement. We have only the vaguest ideas of how much resistance the enemy is going to be able to offer. The prisoners gave us the base's location, and there were scattered reports of mobile suits and artillery. But we have no specifics at all."
Zechs shook his head. "I've been reviewing the pilot situation," he said. "We've got the instructors at our base and their class, plus the instructor corps at Victoria. The rest of OZ is scattered throughout the units of the Alliance, so we can't use them. Combined, that's barely fifteen Aires and fifty Leos. But that's an overstatement; it's risking the entire future of OZ to try something like that. Besides, the class at our base is still in training; they would be manhandled by expert pilots."
Treize smiled. "I do think most of the world has a different idea than yours of what counts as an expert pilot. I don't believe those men will be quite up to your standards. Even so, having this be their first battle would be a mistake. We shouldn't use the class at our base. Nor the instructors at Victoria. The available Aires troops that you have aren't instructors right now, if I'm correct."
"Fifteen Aires is not enough, we know that for a fact!" said Zechs.
Treize frowned, deep in thought. "As I said, I'm pursuing a diplomatic solution," he said, his eyes opening but worry still on his brow. "If it doesn't pan out, I want everyone except the instructors at Victoria to engage in battle. Yes, that means the class at our base. While I agree with you wholeheartedly that they aren't ready, we have no choice about fighting this battle. We can't afford to wait more than three days at the most, or the enemy may be able to disassemble and run away. We have to catch them now, while our information is fresh."
Zechs rubbed at where his temples would be if not for his mask. "I'll start work on tactics and battle plans," he said, dismay leaking into his voice.
"I'll contact you soon," replied Treize, no more hope in his voice.
It wasn't a pretty tactical picture.
"No matter how you slice it," said Noin, summing up her and Zechs' work on the topic, "if we fight this battle with only the resources we have on hand, we're going to get mauled."
"We can't take the Victoria instructors with us, so that leaves us with fifteen Aires and forty Leos. But only ten of those Leos are fully trained, and the training of the Aires pilots isn't quite complete either." Zechs shook his head. "And without any kind of base in the area, we'll be low on supplies. We'll have no way to regroup or rearm short of aerial drops. This is a very bad scenario."
"It might be winnable," said Noin, "but the casualties will undercut OZ's growth. We'll lose our momentum and our ability to develop pilots at the same pace. It's bad any way you look at it."
The room's comm. panel began beeping. Zechs went over to it and answered. He was surprised to see Treize's face. "Sir," Zechs said, embarrassed, "all the tactical scenarios are…"
"…About to be revised," Treize interrupted.
"What?" said Zechs, his train of thought derailed.
"My diplomatic effort has succeeded," Treize said. "I've got you some allies."
"Who?" asked Zechs.
"Have you ever heard of the Maganac Corps?"
"The cream of the Middle Eastern Police Forces is the Maganac Corps," Zechs announced to his pilots. There were twenty-five of them, counting Noin—the fifteen Aires pilots Zechs had been training, plus the ten instructors from the Specials base. He'd had to suspend lessons there, naturally. To his complete and utter shock, the students at the base hadn't protested.
"It's a brotherhood of forty mobile suit pilots who leave behind their national identities and swear allegiance to one another. It's an anachronistic force, one of great reputation. Their mobile suits are custom-made, so it's impossible to determine their quality. Still, all accounts speak to their excellence."
Of course, if I had any first-hand knowledge about these people, I'd feel a lot better. The toughest part of handing down orders from above is pretending that it's all your own idea.
Actually, pretending is easy. Pretending convincingly is hard.
"So I want you to show these men the utmost respect," Zechs said firmly. "We'll be fighting alongside them, so we're going to have to trust each other. We're all soldiers, regardless of ideology or nationality, so you must behave professionally."
His men nodded—they could respect other soldiers on that basis alone.
"To their forty suits, we add fifteen Aires and ten Leos, making this the biggest mobile suit combat operation since the destruction of the Sanc Kingdom," he said. He even managed to keep the tremor out of his voice when he called the kingdom by name. "I'll get everyone more information as soon as it arrives. Noin, with me." With that, he turned his back to them and began walking out of the carrier. Noin followed on his heels.
The first man to greet Zechs resembled a lion, but with darker hair. "Second Lieutenant Zechs Marquise," he said in a rumbling voice, "I am First Pilot Rashid."
Zechs noted the formal tone and diction and bowed to his host. "First Pilot Rashid," he said, "we are honored to be able to use this base."
"The true honor will come later," said Rashid, "when we fight alongside your men."
"Indeed," said Zechs, rising to his full height. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to begin planning immediately."
"Of course," said Rashid. "Commander Sada-ul has been expecting you."
Zechs took note of the name and followed Rashid.
The command room was attached to one of the mobile suit hangars. Zechs glanced out of windows as he kept up with Rashid, catching glimpses of the Corps' mobile suits. They looked like they were built for the desert environment, and there was little uniformity; although each was based off the same chassis, equipment was different for many of them. For example, and to Zechs' considerable surprise, some of them were equipped with oversized claws that would only be useful in melee combat. Zechs' opinion of these pilots rose.
In stark contrast to First Pilot Rashid, Commander Sada-ul was a squat old man who was immediately unimpressive. But Zechs was more patient than that; the man's worth (or lack thereof) would come out in time.
"So you are the representatives of Specials," Sada-ul said, appraising Zechs and Noin.
"Sir," said Zechs, bowing, "yes, we're here to fight with your men."
"It's proper that you think of it that way," said Sada-ul keenly. "This is a problem we must deal with. We are thankful for your assistance in this matter, but it is ours to accept or reject at will."
"I understand," Zechs said. "Then, to supplement the forty soldiers of the Maganac Corps, I bring ten expert Leos and fifteen expert Aires."
"Expert?"
"They deserve such a title," Zechs assured the Arabs. "They'll prove their worth in battle."
"Alright then," said Sada-ul. "To this combined force I am adding the Maganac Corps—forty "expert" pilots," he said, grinning slightly.
Zechs took him seriously, nodded. "Your men's reputation precedes you," Zechs said. "I have utmost confidence in your soldiers."
Sada-ul grunted. "We'll see whose confidence is justified," he said. "First Pilot Rashid will begin the tactical planning with you. I'll leave you all to discuss that."
Like my relationship with Treize, Zechs thought. The commander takes care of logistics and strategy, but leaves all the mechanics to the subordinate. This should tell me something.
Noin began the session. "We have some information as to what we're up against," she said. "It's not much, but we'll gladly share it with you."
Rashid raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I doubt you have anything we don't already know. It's more likely that we'll be sharing our information with you."
"Please do," said Zechs. "What do you have?"
"We have rough schematics of the base," Rashid said, as he walked to a computer. "We have numbers and type of forces at the base, and probable arrangement of defenses."
"Really? How did you get that?" asked Zechs.
"When they were building the base and gathering their forces," Rashid said, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice, "we escorted the convoys that brought the materials. As a precaution we checked the contents and kept the records."
"In that case," said Zechs, "since you know the maximum of what they had, we can tell you what they don't have. I know exactly how many suits, tanks, and personnel they've lost in their two battles."
"How do you know that?" said Rashid.
"Because it was my unit that inflicted most of those casualties," said Zechs, "and we… acquired the Alliance's records of the chase in the Himalayas. Between us, we can determine what they've got."
"Good," Rashid said. "We actually didn't know their exact casualties."
They began their planning, though there was an obvious tension in the room. An unanswered question hung in the room that none dared ask. Zechs quickly developed an appreciation for his counterpart. Rashid was rich in wisdom for fighting in the desert. He was constantly pointing out possible maneuvers their enemies might try. Zechs was sure, however, that his and Noin's solutions to the problems Rashid presented them impressed the First Pilot.
Finally the tension came to a head. "Rashid," said Zechs, "I'm willing to give you and your men all possible benefit of the doubt. But it wouldn't be fair to my men if I didn't get an answer to this question. Will your soldiers hesitate?"
"Hesitate when?" asked Rashid, though everyone could see he knew what Zechs meant.
"When we engage the enemy, and your pilots need to kill fellow Arabs," Zechs said.
Rashid walked to the window and motioned for Zechs and Noin to follow. He gazed out into the hangar and pointed to three mobile suits. "Do you see what they're doing there?"
Noin nodded. "They're painting over their kill marks," she said. "Looks like they did the same to their other insignia, too."
"They did," said Rashid. "Those pilots hail from the emirates responsible. When those emirates acted on their own, they betrayed all the Arabic nations. They broke their treaties with their neighbors and they sabotaged everyone's agreement with the Alliance. Even though our pilots have disavowed loyalty to individual nations, they still represent those nations in a sense. And so they bear shame and humiliation on behalf of their countrymen."
Zechs nodded appreciatively. I almost wish I had brought the students from our school. They could learn a lot about virtue from this case study.
Rashid turned fully to Zechs and Noin. "The reason we're fighting this battle is because we were responsible for policing the Middle East. We failed in that duty, so it's our obligation to clean up after ourselves. We accepted your help because we find you useful, not because we have anything in common with you. Even so, my men hold the ideals of the Maganac Corps close to their hearts. We'll fight with you like you were blood brothers, and against our enemies like they were devils. My men won't hesitate."
Zechs bowed. "Forgive me for asking," he said penitently. "I'm sorry for doubting the integrity of your soldiers."
"You apologize too much," Rashid answered gruffly. At last the formality was draining from his attitude. "Like you said, it wouldn't be fair for your pilots not to know about us. I just hope we can settle this quickly, and without too many casualties either way."
Noin smiled. "Agreed. Let's get back to planning."
Zechs and Rashid stood together at the head of the briefing room. The room was large enough to accommodate all the Specials soldiers and the entirety of the Maganac Corps. The two forces did not mix.
"It's time to fulfill our vows," Rashid began. "Five hours from now, we begin an assault on the rebels. We won't stop until the enemy is crushed and their base demolished. None must escape. We have the base on constant surveillance, but we must strike swiftly before they attempt something.
"The assault will be spearheaded by the Maganac Corps. As you know, our specialty is the suppression barrage. For this reason, we will advance first upon a single front of the enemy base, eliminating targets as they appear until we breach the perimeter."
Rashid turned; Zechs stepped up and spoke. "The Specials' specialty is small-unit combat. Thus, our ten Leos will be divided into five-man teams on each flank of the Maganac force. Your job is to keep their flanks clear, sweep the outer perimeter, and dull any attacks from those angles until the Corps can respond."
Rashid stepped up again. "For the durations of the battle, one unit of Aires suits will perform high-altitude patrol. If anyone tries to escape the base without a fight, the Aires will put an end to them."
"Cunha, that's you," interjected Zechs. He's attentive and quick-witted. Not the best pilot, but he doesn't get distracted. "Use your superior mobility to strike as quickly as targets appear."
"The other ten Aires will remain on stand-by until we enter the base," Rashid continued. "Once we're inside, however, we'll need them. Specials Leos will continue around and seal the outside of the base, while the Corps will break into fire teams and move into the base. Destroy any opposition as you come to it. If you encounter something too dangerous… that's where Specials come in."
Zechs spoke up again. "Specials Aires will be in two groups," he said. "One led by myself, and one led by Noin. Lead Pilots in the Corps will be able to call upon the teams to perform strikes on select targets. Our enemies have never fought Aires before, so these attacks should be very damaging and distracting. Hopefully, they will break up the enemy enough for the Corps to push through."
"Does everyone understand then? Alright, we move out soon. Everyone, to your suits!"
And Zechs smiled as his little game of diplomacy came to an end. I offered for Specials to behave either way—for either us to be the first wave and the Corps support, or for the Corps to go in first and Specials support. Of course, tactically it's a no-brainer; you use line troops to hold the enemy and mobile hard-hitters to strike as needed. Still, I had to offer to show my respect for Rashid.
We're equals, so it wouldn't be right for me to tell him to give his troops the more dangerous jobs, however tactically correct. I had to give him the chance to choose the jobs for his pilots. As far as I can tell, it worked.
Maybe I won't be so bad at this diplomacy stuff.
The pilots from both forces filed out. Zechs turned to Rashid and offered a hand. Rashid shook firmly. "To battle," said Zechs.
"See you on the other side," said Rashid, and he, too, left.
Zechs moved quickly to his own forces. Much to his surprise, a cargo plane was just landing. He spotted Noin taking a call. As he walked to her, he caught her attention and asked, "What's this about?"
Noin held a finger. "Yes sir. Of course. Thank you, sir, I'm sure Zechs will be happy. Yes. By your leave, sir." She hung up, then turned. "Zechs, did we install the latest targeting software on our Aires suits?"
Zechs thought back. "I'm sure we did."
She nodded. "Then Colonel Treize is pleased to report that he has answered your request."
According to his Aires' instruments, the rebels locked on to Zechs' attack group of Aires at about 0430 hours, local time.
At 0500, the fifteen Aires got within attack range of the rebel base.
At 0501, the first combat testing of the model 01b missile launcher occurred.
At 0502, thirty missiles breached the base perimeter.
At 0503, the entirety of the Maganac Corps emerged from camouflaged positions and loosed a suppression barrage into the sudden gap in the rebel defenses.
Zechs smiled despite the carnage his forces were causing. The missile launcher is heavy, so I had to order my forces to dump them the moment they'd fired their missiles. Still, the huge firepower boost is invaluable. I'll have plenty of feedback for Treize's allies.
The comm. system filled with chatter.
"Mobile section," barked Cunha, "targets escaping, bearing 0-4-6. With me."
And Rashid: "Keep up the barrage. Team one, angle left. Team five, advance and in."
From his vantage point behind the battle, Zechs observed the steady advance of the Maganac Corps, with his own Leos covering their flanks. Zechs was very impressed by their coordination and mutual support. It was obvious that the Corps was actually outnumbered, but the forest of firepower they threw up was enough to keep the rebels from getting good shots. The Corps was steadily advancing, pushing the enemy back into their own base.
"Noin," said Zechs, inspired suddenly, "they're taking cover from the barrage behind their walls. Take your squad on a crossing attack with mine. We'll flush them out."
"Yes, sir," she barked, falling into formalities in the heat of battle.
"First pilot," Zechs said, "we're going to disrupt the enemies covering behind their wall."
"Roger that," Rashid said. "We'll coordinate."
And Zechs led his pilots, confident that Rashid would handle his troops as needed.
Though his display, he tracked the various elements as they moved. The Corps had destroyed that side of the base's defenses and defenders, and had advanced to the walls of the compound. Now, though, they couldn't proceed; enemies had massed on either side of the gap, ready to fire at the first Maganac to cross the threshold.
But, if Zechs and Noin were to pounce on those enemies…
"Now," said Zechs. No need to shout over the comm., lose composure in the middle of the battle. This is the way to lead men: with such cool confidence that they follow without needing to know why. Their trust is such that they do what you tell them to instantly, secure in the knowledge that you have a reason.
He brought his Aires in low, the lead pilot in a tight wedge-shape. The wedge limited his forces' field of fire compared to a shoulder-to-shoulder arrangement, but it also reduced the unit's overall profile.
That's very important. After this pass every enemy who survived will be throwing gobs of firepower up at us, up until the moment the Corps makes its entrance.
Zechs eased back a bit, angling the Aires so it would just clear the wall. His inner self counted down the moments… and then he was in the clear, gun blazing.
He and his unit were traveling too fast and too close to their targets to aim precisely, so they simply kept the triggers pulled down. Zechs struggled against G-forces and recoil to correct his aim. Bullets poured from the five Aires.
Tracer rounds flashed by Zechs' monitor—but not from the ground. In his peripheral vision, he saw Noin's unit passing to the left of his own, hosing down enemy suits with their weapons.
The two Aires squads met in the middle and zipped on past one another, and on both sides, bullet-ridden mobile suits crashed to the ground.
"Maganacs, move!" Rashid's voice thundered over the comm.. The enemy hadn't yet recovered from the strafing runs. Zechs couldn't see it happening, as he was concentrating on escape, but he could guess.
Enemy IFF codes began to vanish from his console.
"Noin," said Zechs, "bring your unit back around behind the Corps. Be ready to lend support as needed."
"Yes sir," she said.
Zechs watched the phosphor dots on his display, each representing someone's mobile suit. With the front gates breached, the Maganacs were flooding into the base and pushing the enemies back. The base's buildings and hangars became new sources of cover for the enemy.
The calls began.
"Aires one, enemies at grid 53."
"Aires two, targets at grid 42."
"Aires two…"
"Aires one…"
Those weren't the only calls filling the comm. waves, however. There was more chatter than Zechs would ever have tolerated from his own soldiers. He had to work hard to tune it all out.
One example he found particularly poignant:
"We keep calling in the Aires to do all our work for us."
"Hey, I don't need glory. If the enemy keeps hunkering down, we'll call the Aires on their butts all day long."
Still, even if there was less formality amongst the Maganac Corps, it had no discernible impact on their effectiveness.
Surprise had long since faded; the rebels knew their enemies now. It made no difference. The Corps and Specials formed the old "hammer and anvil", with the Corps pinning the rebels in place and the Specials smashing them.
Finally, with a single squad of mobile suits still standing, the surviving rebels broadcast, "We surrender!"
There was a moment of silence from the Corps and the Specials. Zechs' mind worked furiously—should he accept the surrender or should Rashid?
This is their fight, he remembered.
"First Pilot, I will follow your lead," Zechs said.
Rashid spoke immediately thereafter. "I, First Pilot Rashid of the Maganac Corps, accept your surrender."
And, although there was still much to do to disarm and take into custody the rebels, in Zechs' mind everything was finished.
Rashid and Sada-ul watched the Specials transports as they warmed up for departure. The battle had long since ended, with Specials and the Maganac Corps enduring some minor damage to their suits but no losses. The Specials had allowed the Corps to keep the prisoners, asking only for copies of their interrogation records.
The whines from the transports' engines began to rise in pitch and volume. Rashid shook his head in disgust. "What a waste. So many of our countrymen dead… and all of it preventable."
"I was more concerned about the soldiers the Alliance sent out to us," Sada-ul said. "Did you notice how atypical they were? How different from the rest of the Alliance?"
Rashid nodded. "They seemed almost eager to get into battle. But by the same token, they were methodical, courageous, courteous, and deadly."
"It was filled with dangerous men," Sada-ul agreed. "But I don't think you realize how dangerous yet."
Rashid frowned. This couldn't be good.
"The commander of the Special Mobile Suit Corps is one Treize Khushrenada."
Rashid's eyes shot open. "No," he said instantly.
Sada-ul nodded. "I kept myself from telling you. Please forgive my dishonesty; you deserved to know, but I was afraid of what you might do. Or not do. I'm sorry, but this had to be done."
Rashid looked away to hide his bitterness. "What irony… we fought alongside OZ, the very men we're gearing up to destroy!"
"It's worse than that," said Sada-ul. "We fought alongside OZ because we needed to appear loyal a little longer. But to do that we had to kill men who were also trying to destroy OZ."
"So we sacrificed them to maintain our own position, keep our own shot at OZ alive." Rashid shook his head. "What a dirty business."
"Face facts, Rashid," said Sada-ul, eyes gleaming. "They compromised themselves. They committed their assets too soon. They exposed themselves too early. Once they came out into the open, we had to snuff them as quickly as possible. The longer we let them continue their activities, the longer we let the Alliance build up for a real invasion, and the more likely the rest of our assets will be exposed."
Rashid sighed. "For eighteen years we've built up our forces, fortified our bases, infiltrated personnel into the right positions… and, with three months of stupidity, our own comrades destroy half of it! Couldn't they have waited just two more years? Couldn't they have waited until Master Quatre arrived…?"
Sada-ul nodded in agreement. "With Master Quatre's help, we could have established a perimeter from the Nile to the Indus where no Alliance or OZ troops dare enter. Now, we just have to hope that we can salvage something from this disaster. Hopefully we'll have enough to aid Master Quatre when he does come."
Rashid grunted an affirmative. "And we're going to have to keep an eye on this Zechs person. It scares me that OZ has soldiers like that."
Sada-ul smirked. "If all of OZ was like that, we wouldn't have a chance. But then again, if all of OZ was like that, would we even have to destroy it?"
Rashid raised an eyebrow. "Zechs is competent and he treated us honorably. Even so, there's something… disquieting about that man. I don't look forward to facing him in battle."
"And coming from you, that's saying something," said Sada-ul. "That's why we have Master Quatre, isn't it?"
Rashid carefully kept his treasonous thoughts to himself, but they echoed in his skull. Against one such as this Zechs person, even Master Quatre would have his hands full.
The Specials carriers lifted off, and Rashid willed them out of sight. The further away they went from the Middle East Security Corridor, the happier he'd be.
There was a tense silence between Zechs and Noin as they walked down the hallway. Treize had permanent offices reserved at Lake Victoria and the Specials' first base, and had been waiting for them when they returned, victorious, to Victoria.
Zechs wanted to say something to Noin, but he could think of nothing that would work. He just had nothing to say.
'Noin, be careful, this is my boss'—she knows that already!
'This really matters to me'—of course.
'Be on guard, this is a dangerous man'—but I don't want to set up my only friends as enemies.
So he said nothing.
He knocked courteously, entered upon command. "Sir, Lieutenant Zechs reporting as ordered."
"Come, sit, my friend," said Treize gently. Zechs saw Treize's eyes dart—just once—over to Noin before refocusing on Zechs. Treize was letting Zechs handle this at his own pace.
"Congratulations on a job well done," Treize said. "The Alliance is processing our reports. It seems that the Alliance didn't expect us to succeed—and they certainly didn't expect us to succeed as much and as quickly as we did. I can't overemphasize how important it was for us to complete that mission."
Zechs nodded. "The Alliance wanted to see how well we did when we couldn't choose our battles. They wanted to make sure we would follow their orders."
"More than anything," Treize said, "they wanted to ensure that we could subordinate our interests to theirs."
Zechs frowned under his mask. "But, sir, did they have any objections to our alliance with the Maganac Corps? Didn't that mess up their little test?"
"On the contrary," said Treize, "I think it helped show we weren't out to hog the glory."
Finally, an opening! "Speaking of not hogging the glory," said Zechs, "I'd like to introduce Second Lieutenant Lucrezia Noin. She's been my second in many of our fights, and she's been running the mobile suit training at Lake Victoria. She's the most reliable person I know, and a good friend."
Treize extended his hand across to Noin, offering it to her as an equal. She shook it firmly. "A friend of Zechs'? That's a high compliment indeed," said Treize. His face bore respect, and a touch of a smile. "The pleasure is mine."
Zechs glanced at Noin. Her face was neutral, appraising; the flattery had seemed to fall off her without effect. "Hello, Colonel. We meet at last."
"What do you think?" Treize asked. "What impact do you think our success has had at Alliance headquarters?"
"I think you've made some people furious," she said bluntly. "Quite aside from those officers who hoped we'd bleed ourselves in the effort. There were other officers in the Alliance who were hoping for a chance to invade the Middle East security corridor. It wasn't just emirates who weren't satisfied with the security arrangement. Our success has foiled them.
"Not only that, but by using the Maganac Corps, we've let the Middle East nations off the hook. Before our attack, the Alliance could claim correctly that the Middle East nations were not doing their job. Now the nations have a triumph of internal security that they can point to in future negotiations. This won't please some members of the Alliance."
Zechs' eyes widened. Neither she nor Treize mentioned this before, and it certainly didn't occur to me! He turned his gaze back to Treize, whose smile had grown. "It was a calculated risk," Treize said. "We didn't have the manpower to take out the emirates, not without massive casualties. Any losses at all would have slowed OZ's growth in addition to depleting our manpower."
"So you risked Scylla," said Zechs, illumination coming. "Accept the hatred of some segments in the Alliance in order to gain superior positioning and influence."
"And to avoid losses," Noin added.
"That's exactly right," said Treize. "OZ made some enemies today, but it was well worth it."
Zechs glanced back and forth between his friends and saw their faces ease a bit. At this, he breathed deeply in relief. He couldn't imagine how painful it would be for his only friends to hate each other.
Treize breathed deeply. "I would like to reward you for your excellent service, Noin. As I understand it, Zechs was on the cusp of completing Aires training for you and your class. I think the engagement we just had was an apt final exam. Therefore, now that you've graduated at the top of your class, I would like to offer you your choice of assignments. You may have any job it's in my power to give you."
"Sir," she said evenly, "I have my answer already. I would like to return to Lake Victoria. I want to continue to be OZ's teacher at Victoria."
Treize smiled. "I'm delighted to hear that. I will honor your request."
Of course you will, Zechs thought. It's exactly what you wanted her to do. Some reward this is, letting her do what you want her to do!
But when his eyes went back to Noin, she wore an appreciative expression. Then again, it does show a lot of trust in your subordinate. If you can count on her to choose what you need her to do...
As Treize and Noin moved on to discuss other business, Zechs struggled to restrain a slight smile. Of all the possible outcomes from this meeting, this is probably among the best.