Chapter I: Space, Our Destiny
EFF Training Facility,
Mekong Delta, Vietnam,
February 3, UC 0088
What's the difference of being a human than being anything else in the universe? Some biblical nerds said that we, human, do not evolve from animals, instead God made us from clay. Others believed that we are the only race that can think, that our brains have more divine function than to run our bodies. My high school friends joked that we were the only race that consummated for pleasure, rather than for eluding extinction.
But for me, we are the only race that can, have the guts to, or have all it takes to destroy our own homes. To kill our own children. To drive ourselves closer to extinction by every generation. The Holy War, The Great War, The World War, The One Year War, and now The Gryps War. We are so advanced that we built these horrendous machines to conquer the universe, but instead, we consciously use them to destroy everything we worked so hard to achieve.
Did God created us to be this mischievous? I don't know. Do we always think this way? I don't know. Do we take pleasure in war? I don't know. And what am I to question this root of humanity? I, Armus Gray, am only human. I destroy, therefore I am.
Armus smiled at that thought. Luckily, the enemy was still shy to attack. Armus, accompanied only by 3 out of 12 of the GraveWalker squadron, took a mental note of the enemy's hesitation before quickly arranged his troops into ambush position.
"Red 2, Red 4, this is Red 1," Armus spoke in his comlink. "Go to the top of that hill on your left. Passive radar only. Open fire upon visual contact. Don't let them pass your position. You understand? The hill is yours, so don't let anybody take it from you!"
"Yes Sir!" Red 2 and Red 4 answered in unison.
"Red 3, follow me. Passive radar and maintain radio silence. Got it, Soldier?"
"Affirmative, Sir!"
"Good! Let's give them a nice welcome party! Move, Red Team, move!"
As Red 2 and Red 4, Armus whipped his GM II to swing around the hill halfway to the front, right in the killing field of Red 2 and Red 4. Being in the summit, Red 2 and 4 quickly spotted him, and gave their thumbs-up using their GM IIs. Armus readied his rifle, then switched to active radar mode. He knew the consequences. Yes, he spotted the enemy, the Green Team, scattered into 2 separate teams on his left and right, trying to sandwich the Red Team in a nasty crossfire. And yes, his active radar gave away his position. The Green Team saw him, and quickly moved in on him for an easy kill.
Armus sighed in disappointment. His GraveWalker squadron consisted of good materials, pilots that could slay five or six enemy mobile suits without breaking a sweat, but had no finesse in tactical battle whatsoever. In a free-for-all melee, Armus wouldn't doubt his squadron to emerge victors against any obstacles. But if the enemy had any knowledge of tactics, even the most rudimentary, the GraveWalker would become extinct in a matter of minutes.
So Armus intended to make this mock combat session as memorable to his squadron as possible. He kicked his verniers, bringing his GM II dashed forward, closer to his ambush team on the hill. Red 3 followed suit. The Green Team thought he would try to use the hill as his fortress, and naively leapt onto the sky to get a quick aim at Armus. But it happened to be the mortal sin for them.
Armus' ambush team quickly went to work. Their modified beam rifles hurled electromagnetic pulse that shut down 2 GM IIs afloat, while they were busy doing the same thing to Armus. The red-white mobile suits staggered in air, then plummeted to the ground in loud crashes. Dust and pebbles clouded the air as the 50-ton mobile suits hit the ground, face flatted.
"Arrgh, dammit! It's an ambush!" one of the Green Team realized what was going on.
"There! Up on the hill!"
"Green 4, Green 5! Take'em down!"
Two GM IIs jumped in the air to hit the ambush team. Armus quickly aimed at one and blasted his rifle. One GM II lost power and spiraled down to Earth before crashing in a thick cloud of dust. Red 3 mimicked his action and take out the other GM II with a calculated shot to the cockpit. As the electromagnetic pulse sucked the power out of the GM II, it jolted in the air, but the momentum brought it flying over the hill, then crashed on the other side of the hill, away from the combat.
"Good job, Red Team! Now fire at will!"
Firing their rifles, Red 2 and 4 roared their jets to attack the remaining Green Team. One of the Green Team quickly separated himself from the crowd and returned fire. Its marksmanship hit Red 4 squarely on the torso. Red 4 trembled before fell down, rolling on the slope of the hill until it rested at the foothill, immobilized.
Armus knew that shot. It was one of his sergeants, Sgt. Lynn Varr, the squadron's surgeon and one hell of a pilot. Her marksmanship on the battlefield was as sharp as her scalpel on the operation table. She posed the greatest threat to the rest of the Red Team, so Armus blasted his verniers to chase Lynn. The sergeant knew what was coming, and she fired her rifle three times. Armus kicked his MS to the right, missing Lynn's bursts by the inch, then returned fire. Lynn performed a half somersault in the air, then crouched and steadied her arm. As Armus ate the gap, Lynn fired a calculated shot at Armus' chest.
It was a marksmanship that would bring down most of Federation finest, but not Armus Gray. Knowing every little bit of his sergeant, he pushed his joystick down, hard, making his GM II slide on the ground while Lynn's shot flew inches away from his head. Then he fired 3 times. Lynn leapt into the air, but Armus knew where she was going. He waited until Lynn ran out of juice, then fired his coup de grace. Lynn could no nothing but to acclaim Armus victory when her GM II went limp, head to toe, and crashed to the ground.
Wasting no time, Armus jumped to the sky to get back to the rest of the Red Team. Green Team had been reduced to 2-man army, but surprisingly, only Red 2 still fighting. The other sergeant, Sgt. Jack Pielhau, finished off Red 3 not long after Armus went for Lynn, and now he was latching on to Red 2. Armus knew Jack was the finest melee-ist at his disposal, an ogre at his core. But that was as much as Jack would do. He saw, he came close, he killed. Although Jack was very good in close range, he was absolutely useless against long-ranged weapons. So Armus took a crouch, and shot Jack in the back, 300 yards away. Jack's GM II quivered before took a steep dive, straight into the ground. The remaining Green Team GM II was taken by surprise, and Red 2 took the momentary confusion to finish it off.
Armus leaned back on his seat, took several deep breaths, then shut down his MS. He opened the latch and climbed down, waiting for his squadron to fall in, while thinking the best words for the debriefing. He was a medium built man in his mid 20's, 6' 200 lbs that surprisingly didn't look that big, considering half of the GraveWalker soldiers were well over 6'2", 220 lbs. Jack, for instance. His lumbering muscles of 6'3", 250 lbs were imminent when he opened up his latch. An accomplished martial artist, Jack always regarded shooting from the back as an act of cowardice.
"That was a cheap shot, Lieutenant!" Jack blurted. "I was fighting someone else ferrchrissake!"
"War is not a kumite, Sergeant!" Armus yelled back, using the language that Jack would understand. "What, do you expect the Titans would wait until you finish, take a bow, then start from fresh again? In the battle, you can't complain to the referee if your enemy makes an illegal move!"
"No sir," Jack swallowed his breath.
"Now listen to me," Armus paused, seeing more of his squadron gathered up. "Green Team had 2-to-1 advantage in number, but they still lost! They lost because they waited until I gain my position! Be this a hard lesson for you. It's not he who has the bigger guns or the more troops that will win the war. It's he who knows how to use them. Now go get some rest, then meet me on the ready room at 1500 hours."
As the GraveWalkers scrambled their respective mobile suits, technicians descended from the sky in helicopters, helping the pilots to jump-start their GM II. Armus observed the field one last time, then went back into the cockpit and paced his mobile suit into a semi run through the training facility. Armus' military career was not as glamorous as other officers at his age. He was only 16 when One Year War broke out, too young to be admitted to the EFF. He signed up a year later, only to miss the incident with Delaz Fleet because of disciplinary action in 0083. But in every engagement, his action was always calculated.
Arriving at the hangar, Armus parked his GM II and started climbing down when a fresh-from-the-grinder cadet came to meet him. "Lieutenant Gray, Sir, Rear Admiral Morrison is waiting for you."
"Thanks, Cadet," Armus returned his salute. Without stripping his jumpsuit, he walked through the corridor toward the main building, wondering what Morrison might want from him or his squadron. His 172nd MS Team, affectionately known as the GraveWalkers, had been training for 3 weeks, but building a team which favored Armus' principles was nowhere in sight. The Gryps War was heating up, and Armus was worried about sending his troops to face off against the elite, battle-hardened Titans. In his eyes, the GraveWalkers were not ready to combat, but the Federation might be in desperate need of good men to reinforce Gryps that was just taken by the AEUG.
Entering Rear Admiral Morrison's office, Armus snapped a quick salute.
"Come in, Lieutenant, have a sit," the bald, short, stout admiral called him in. "Just returning from the grinders, I see. How's the GraveWalkers?"
"They're not ready, Sir, if that's what you're asking," Armus went straight to the point.
"Individually, they're the best I could ask for. But as a team, they're children with big guns! Another month of training will get them there, Sir."
"I see," Morrison twirled his long moustache. "Well, Lieutenant, you only have half a month. I'm shipping the GraveWalkers to the front line."
"With all due respect, Sir, you didn't hear me right," Armus stated. "I need a month!"
"I hear you loud and clear, Armus, and you have 2 weeks to make them ready!"
Armus sighed. There was no way around. His fear just came true. "Where are we going, Sir?"
"You'll be attached to X-Divisional Fleet under Admiral Brian Aeno," Morrison leaned back in his chair. "There's this small insurrection at asteroid Pezun. Some renegade soldiers called themselves the New Desides and swear to fight for Earthnoid supremacy. Stupid reason to wage war, don't you think? The Feds have already formed Task Force Alpha to smite these racists, but the New Desides were more than - borrowing your term - children with big guns. Tosh Cray, our ex master tacticians, joined the revolution. So we'll send Aeno to negotiate their surrender. If he succeeds, you don't even have to fight.
"But, always expect the worst," Morrison continued. "Like I said, you have 2 weeks to forge your team. After that, you'll be shipped to Lhasa to join Aeno. From Lhasa, you'll make a short pit stop at Space Station Penta, then you'll go straight to Ayers City. The New Desides dig a large foxhole there, and you need to clean it up if necessary. And one more thing," Morrison flipped a folder open and handed a picture of a mobile suit to Armus. "You'll be riding these: MSZ-006FS Z Pluses, the newest addition to Z Plus series by Anaheim Electronics. It's a privilege, Armus. Not many units get this compliment, so show them your appreciation by doing the best."
Armus stood up and saluted. "I will not let you down, Sir."
---------------------------------------------Next, on "I, Feddie" Chapter II:
"The MSZ-006FS is the newest line of Z Plus series. They only give these things to the best unit."
"It's a blimp, Sir. With only 0.95G acceleration, it won't even win against Zeong!"
"Sir, why do we take this job? I mean, the GraveWalkers are front-line troops. Why do they give us second-line job? Do they despise us or something?"
"They want us because we're the best. Don't see this as a punishment, rather as a tribute that no second-line units are good enough so EFF want us to do their job."
"This sucks! I'll take the grunt work over this any day of the week. I want to see their eyes when I thrust my beam saber into their guts!"
"Be careful what you wish for, Pielhau. It might happen sooner than you think, and you'll be surprised how different it feels from reality."
"I am Brian Aeno, from this point on Bull Run will not be receiving any more orders from the Federation Forces Main Commanding Office. I, and my entire crew, will take the side of New Desides' Instructor's Company. Those who do not agree with my humble decision, you can leave the fleet freely in the next twelve hours. But for those who are Earthnoid at heart, please fight on with me."
"We were sworn to uphold the Earth Federation Forces until the day we die. We can't just leave the Federation for whatever reason."
"We were sworn to be forever loyal to the Federation Army, but we can serve greater deed if we aren't. Like the admiral said, it's not for Titans, but for the whole human race."
Well, there's a small Mother Teresa in us.
"Alright then. We're going with Aeno."