Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Side Story: What Hatred Brings
Prologue: Just Another Day
They rumbled over the sand, moving at over forty kilometers per hour in the terrain they were most suited. Their crews peered out nervously, wondering what lurked behind the dunes that surrounded their formation. Intelligence had told them to expect nothing. Their instinct told them otherwise.
It was the 3rd of June, Cosmic Era 71, and the Earth Alliance's offensive was in full swing. The force in question consisted but a dozen tanks, but this was a mere prelude to the grand battle now shaping up between the two rival belligerents. Two fierce battles had already been fought at what was known as the Victoria Base, named for the largest lake in all of Africa. The first round had gone to the Alliance, besting ZAFT's first attempt to achieve victory on the ground. ZAFT however, had regrouped and struck back, succeeding in their second assault and turning Victoria into their main bastion in Africa. Yet now, the tide had turned again, and the Alliance wanted Victoria back along with her mass driver. From here, the great Alliance fleet could be launched into space: To end the war once and for all.
And that was why, even without being told, ZAFT forces had dug in deep, prepared for a fierce struggle to the end. Defeat here meant the next major battle would not be fought at Grimaldi, Alaska, Panama, or some other far away place. It would be fought at Boaz. It would be fought at Jachin Due. It would be fought at Aprilius and Junius. It would be fought at home.
And it was with this knowledge, more than any other, that he began his work.
His face was that of an old man, even though he was but twenty-two years of age. He was just a pilot, yet he had already seen more combat that some "commanders" had seen in their lifetimes. In a way, he seemed rough and undisciplined; his uniform tattered, the bottom of his cockpit strewn with litter. Yet, just glancing at the Alliance tank force before him, he already knew how best to destroy it. Experience was the best teacher, and he had gained much of it since that Valentine's Day a scant year ago.
The same could be said of his opponents, whose commander was a survivor of the massive Alliance Tank Corps decimated at El Alamein. In many ways, he and the Alliance commander were similar. Both had started the war on February 14. Both were tough and experienced. But only he was riding a Mobile Suit, and it was the decisive difference.
Tanks, with their armor and armament, were powerful weapons, but they were saddled with a significant flaw: The very armor that protected the lives of its crew also limited their vision, making them vulnerable to surprise attacks. This was especially true of attacks from above and below.
And it was the latter that struck first.
As the Alliance tanks entered ZAFT territory, one struck a mine buried in the desert sand, ripping apart a set of tracks and forcing it to come to a screeching halt. The Alliance commander, instinctively, ordered the rest of his command to turn around and fall back, but by then it was already too late, as ZAFT munitions were already falling from the sky.
First to come were missiles, launched by a pair of DINNs coming out of the sun. Three tanks, in their struggle to turn, were left sitting ducks and destroyed, their crews killed as their vehicles were immolated in a crescendo of fire. Two more were struck and crippled, leaving the unfortunate Alliance commander with but half of his command mere seconds into the engagement.
Yet they were still desperate to survive, and the tankers launched smoke canisters, obscuring the view of the high-flying DINNs and preventing them from launching any more missiles. The DINNs however, dove straight towards the ground with machine guns ready; no quarter was to be given to the Alliance forces this day.
It was then that the Alliance Air Force made its presence known, as two squadrons of Spearhead fighters dashed low over no man's land to engage the pair of DINNs. Having flown so low over the ground, they evaded detection by radar, but had not evaded the intuition of the ZAFT pilot. Just as the fighters were about to engage the enemy, the sand below them came to life, and two more DINNs emerged from the ground, seeking Alliance blood.
The first DINN was piloted by Niel Hammersdorf, who was an inexperienced pilot but had a deadly aim. His DINN remained on the ground as the Spearheads flew past him, but a burst of fire from his machine gun downed a pair of fighters and drove off two others. His wing-woman, however, was not content to remain planted on the ground, and her DINN rocketed to the sky right into the middle of the enemy formation.
She was Sakura Hajime, a pilot who should have been a red shirt and whose nickname was "Blossom". Quiet and professional, she calmly drew her DINN's shotgun even as she flew almost wingtip to wingtip with her enemy. Terrified of the DINN, the four Spearheads scattered, attempting to withdraw, but then "Blossom" went to work. She fired just four times in total, yet each time added a red blossom of fire to what had been a crystal blue sky.
And with that, the Alliance tank force was suddenly without help, and without hope. Their gun barrels could not be elevated high enough to target the flying DINNs, and neither could their engines go fast enough to run from their tormentors. Two more Alliance tanks quickly died as DINNs strafed them with cannon shells, while a third blew up as Hammersdorf and Hajime joined the battle and added fire to the carnage. Faced with the inevitable, the Alliance commander did the only sensible thing under the circumstances: He surrendered.
The rules of war dictated that he send the surrender code to the ZAFT pilots, and, if possible, to raise a white flag of truce. He did both, and even made the added gesture of turning his turret away from the ZAFT forces. There could have been no mistaking his intent.
Yet, on the next pass, a DINN opened fire on his tank, shredding him and his crew to pieces as the tank's ammunition exploded from a direct hit.
The perpetrator was Janet Hooker, and she did not give a damn that she had just shot and killed surrendering men. For her, this war was personal. Her parents were among those murdered by the Earth Alliance during the Bloody Valentine incident, and she viewed all Naturals as nothing more than animals. But, to the great distress of the fourth and final DINN pilot, she was the commander of this team, and her policies were to be followed to the letter, no matter how gruesome the result.
Janet killed another tank on her next pass, while Sakura missed the second, who was finished off by Niel instead. The commander then landed and fired two more rounds, each finishing off crippled tanks along with their crews. That left but one Alliance tank crew alive: The crew of the tank that had struck the mine at the very start of the engagement.
"Finish them off," Hooker ordered, and to his dread the order had been issued to him. But he could not disobey because she was a superior officer, and because they shared certain things after hours in her quarters.
Reluctantly, he raised his weapon at the practically helpless Alliance tank crew. They knew what was coming. All but one took it stoically. That one broke down and cried, begging for mercy and spreading what looked to be pictures of his family on the ground. The ZAFT pilot couldn't bear to look, but he fired nonetheless.
"Good. Now, return to base," the commander said, the deed now done. Three of the DINNs turned south, heading back for home, but one lingered and looked north towards the Alliance lines. The pilot wondered who would be the next Alliance soldier he would have to kill.
His name was John Lighthall, and this was but another day in his war.
Unmolested, they marched over the sand. Four giant figures over 20 meters tall, iron monsters that once struck fear into the heart of every Alliance soldier. Combining the firepower of a battleship, the armor of a tank, and greater maneuverability than a fighter, the Mobile Suit had irrevocably shattered age-old paradigms of waging war, bringing to an eclipse a mode of warfare that had been dominant as far back as the Second World War.
Yet now, finally, they were about to meet their match.
The counter was not some new gadget, nor was it some innovative tactic. As was the case often in wartime, the simplest expedient was to pit strength against strength, weapon against weapon. The Mobile Suits of ZAFT were about to encounter their opposite number: The GAT-01. The Strike Dagger.
The four ZAFT Mobile Suits, GINN OCHERs the lot of them, continued their march, unaware of the rude surprise that awaited them. They had already completed this mission almost a hundred times over - a simple patrol over barren terrain that promised little danger save for the occasional encounter with an Alliance tank patrol. Yet even in those occasions, the odds still firmly favored the ZAFT forces: In the three short months the unit had been stationed here, it had already destroyed a total of eighteen Alliance tanks for the lost of but one GINN.
And with that knowledge, her fingers began to dance over the controls, summoning power that would finally bring parity to the battlefields of this God-awful war. The controls she already knew by heart, yet her heart itself was cold and empty. Even the fear she once felt before battle was gone, replaced by the bare nothingness of a shattered soul. She was but nineteen years of age. She was supposed to be in college, dating boys, having fun, and living life to its fullest. Instead, she was killing people.
The first act then came swiftly and from afar, as eight Alliance tanks opened fire on the unsuspecting ZAFT patrol group. The Coordinator pilots however, had superior reflexes and more maneuverable machines, and were able to evade the initial volley - had it actually been on target. As it turned out, the entire volley had struck short.
Had this engagement been fought but a month earlier, it would already have been a foregone conclusion. The GINNs, having survived the initial volley, would have run for cover, then found a way to outflank the old-fashioned tanks, and then slaughtered them to the last man as they tried to pop smoke and flee.
Not anymore though, for as the GINNs were about to implement the first phase of their tried and tested game plan, two Alliance Strike Daggers rose from behind a dune and made their presence known with their beam fire. The ZAFT pilots, never having faced Mobile Suits before, were thrown into confusion, in part negating one element they had that made them so successful in the past: Their teamwork.
One ZAFT pilot, overly confident at the superiority of his machine, charged the two Daggers on the dune alone, and paid for the mistake with his life. Ensign Harold McKenna, who was but in his very first engagement of the war, fired a shot that struck true, punching a hole through the ZAFT pilot's cockpit and leaving nothing behind to send back to his family in the Plants.
Two other ZAFT pilots, succumbing to the "flight" aspect of their instincts and ignoring the orders of their commander, turned and fled for cover. Unfortunately, they neglected to honor the presence of the Alliance tanks still on their flanks, who quickly fired a second volley. This time, two shots struck true, decapitating one GINN and shredding the legs of the second. The second Dagger pilot, Ensign Gennady Arbatov, concentrated his fire on the headless GINN but missed the majority of his shots due to his inexperience. Like Harold before him, Gennady was also a rookie on his first mission, only he did not have the same marksmanship as his wingman.
The fourth ZAFT pilot, in the mean time, had made good his escape while his subordinates were pinned down in the firefight with the Alliance force. His motivation was not of cowardice, but of duty, as he was trying to call for support from a nearby squadron of DINNs. Unfortunately for the ZAFT commander, she had anticipated his move, and her Strike Dagger now lay between him and his escape route; beam saber drawn for a classic duel to the death.
The GINN though, still had its rifle on hand, and the pilot fired off a shot before the Dagger could bring its melee weapon to bear. To the Coordinator's surprise however, the Dagger not only evaded the shot, but also lunged in for the kill. His last act was a belated attempt to raise a shield to cover his cockpit - an act that failed to save his life.
Stowing away the beam saber as the lifeless GINN fell to the ground, the Dagger pilot joined the firefight still raging between the surviving ZAFT pilots and the rest of her force. Again though, it was McKenna who scored the killing blow, with another clean hit on the cockpit of the decapitated GINN.
The fourth ZAFT pilot, meanwhile, emerged from the wreckage of his Mobile Suit, no longer combat-worthy with its mangled legs. Alliance tanks slowly advanced on his position, lead by their commander, Lieutenant Anthony Nichols. Nichols was one of the less humane commanders the Dagger pilot knew. Most Alliance commanders simply shot surrendering ZAFT pilots on sight. Nichols actually bothered to take them alive - so they could be tortured to death for information.
The Dagger pilot's stomach turned as the ZAFT pilot took off his helmet and raised his hands, "he" turning out to be a she with a terrified face and long blonde hair. Her terror was well-founded. Coordinators, with their genetic enhancements, were also generally more beautiful than their Natural counterparts, and this ZAFT pilot was no exception. She already knew what would come at the hands of her merciless captors, she just didn't know how many times it would come.
Thus the Dagger pilot resolved to do the only humane thing that could be done under the circumstances. She atomized the ZAFT pilot with her beam rifle, quickly putting an end to the Coordinator's life.
"Dammit!" Nichols hollered over the radio, "What the hell were you thinking! We needed her alive, Lieutenant!"
"She's Coordinator scum, Lieutenant," the Dagger pilot shot back, managing not to choke on her own words, "It's all for the preservation of our blue and pure world."
Nichols cursed something in reply, but she cut off the transmission before she could hear any of his profanities. She looked south, towards the ZAFT lines, and wondered who would be the next ZAFT soldier she would have to kill.
Her name was Elaine Rickover, and this was but another day in her war.
This fanfiction is an original work by Thomas E. O. "Zinegata" Ting and may not be reproduced in any way or form without his prior permission. "Gundam" and all other related trademarks are owned by Bandai.
