-Nova Scotia, July 6, C.E. 71,
"Mwu! Come on man, wake up!"
Mwu finally awoke with his eyes groggy to find Hugh shaking him violently. "Wh-wh...man, knock it off Hugh, I'm up, I'm up! Ughhh...what's the matter?" he asked.
"Turn around and look at your clock..." Hugh answered. Mwu turned over on his bed and brought the alarm clock to his face. It read...9:40.
"Shit!" Mwu yelled as he scrambled out of bed. "What the hell happened, why didn't you guys wake me up earlier?"
"No one set the alarm that's why," Frank answered, "I only woke up about five minutes ago. Man...John's gonna kill us..."
"Just shut up and hurry," Mwu snapped as he finished buttoning up his jacket. He grabbed his hat, shoulder bag, and slipped his shoes on. "Come on you guys let's move!" He sprinted out the door and could hear the footsteps of his friends right behind him. What a way to start today, Mwu thought, first time I get back on the ship in almost half a year, and I oversleep. Hope this isn't a sign of things to come...
-Dock A, Nova Scotia, July 6, C.E. 71, 0945.
Colonel John Namora stared at his watch as he stood on the main dock at Nova Scotia. He had watched the huge battleship called the Archangel move into its mooring over the past fifteen minutes or so. Now, he stood in his Alliance Dress Uniform, meaning white jacket, pants, and hat along with the standard black shoes, waiting for his other officers to arrive. He had told them to be here at 0930, but as he somewhat expected, the three were nowhere in sight.
Hope you guys get here quick, he thought, otherwise the Council's gonna chew my ass out. John had received a call earlier that morning from Admiral Sutherland informing him of what his job was from now on. When John had told Sutherland he was personally going to lead the raid, Sutherland actually agreed with him for once and told him to go ahead. Once on board the ship, John was just to wait until they reached the launch point about 750 miles north, northwest of Cuba. John had had his misgivings with the Council several times before when they had questioned his actions during several battles. Once he had led his mobile armor squadron against an enemy force consisting of two Nazca-class ships and several BuCue's and still had won the day. The Council didn't appreciate the risks John always liked to take, which made him wonder why they had sent him to command this near-suicide mission.
Richards stood behind and to his right, holding the briefcase which contained all the data he was to give Captain Ramius when he boarded. John wasn't planning on assuming control of the ship even though he was technically now the senior officer on board, because frankly, he knew nothing about the ship, only that it had blown up a lot of stuff. In his mind, the Archangel represented the fighting men and women of the world, standing up for what they believed in. He didn't care if he fought the Coordinators or Naturals; all that mattered to him was that peace be achieved between both races. Let people say what they want, all that John Namora wanted was peace. He also knew, that many of the men in his unit felt the same way.
The main entranceway to the hangar finally moved upwards and a man stepped out. He had dark hair which was tied back in a pony-tail, a scruffy looking beard spread out across his chin, and the sleeves on his orange jumpsuit were rolled up. The man approached John and saluted him when he stopped. John saluted back and the man spoke. "Kojiro Murdoch, Chief Machinest's Mate, at your service Colonel."
"Thank you sir," John replied as he returned the salute, "Any specific orders for me?"
"No, not really. The Captain and First Mate are waiting for you inside, but other than that, just load your stuff on board and we can leave whenever you guys are ready." Murdoch said.
"Again, thank you. We'll be boarding now," With that, Murdoch returned to the ship and John turned to the rest of his men. "Gentleman, get your stuff and head on up. Make sure you have everything you're going to need, we're not going to be stopping back here once we're on the move, alright?" After receiving no responses, he continued, "Good, now get on board. Stevy, Niada, let me see you for a second."
As the other men in the unit began to board the ship, carrying their bags and other materials, two men stepped out toward John and Richards. They both wore the same dark green jacket with Lieutenant's patches on the shoulders, white uniform pants and black shoes. One had long brown hair and dark eyes, with a clean shaven face. The other had his brown hair tied in a pony-tail behind his head and the slightest trail of a mustache across his upper lip. They both stopped and awaited their orders.
"Guys, Mwu and the others haven't arrived yet. I want you to oversee the loading of the J's alright? After that, please don't do anything stupid while we're on board," John said.
Stevy smiled ever so casually back at his teacher, "Now why would we do that...?" he said slyly.
He and his twin brother walked away laughing and John turned to his companion. "Jack, come on, we've got to go meet the Captain."
"Yes, sir." Richards replied. The two walked up the ramp and into the main hangar. John looked around the massive place, taking in everything that was there. He saw two huge mobile suits, G-Units, he identified them as the Buster, and possibly the Strike. He couldn't be sure on the second one because it was still under massive repair. On the other side, he saw two fighter craft he identified as skygrasper's. He should know since he had been piloting them for 20 years. Then he saw the Moebieus unit Mwu called the 'Zero'. It was still in good condition even though Mwu hadn't flown her in almost half a year. In the data he'd received concerning the ship, John had read that there were two other mobile suits on board, but he assumed they must be in another part of the hangar.
As he and Richards marched through the hangar toward the main walkway, he saw many young men and women hard at work loading materials and fixing damaged parts. He knew that some of them weren't going to make it out alive from this war and that made him feel hollow inside. He saw some workers that were just teenagers. These kids will never know how cherished life is... he thought.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, John and Richards reached the main walkway which they followed until they reached an elevator. John punched in a command that sent the elevator flying up to the bridge level, which was the top floor. John looked over at Richards and saw a look of determination, which he had come to expect from Jack over the years. Jack Richards wasn't someone who got angry real easy, but that made it also very hard to decipher what the Sergeant was thinking.
The elevator came to a stop and the two men disembarked, heading toward the bridge. John still carried the briefcase with him, while his shoulder bag which contained all his stuff was being loaded down in the hangars. They reached a steel door and John slid his military I.D. through the designated slot. It responded with an affirming beep and the doors slid open.
When the doors opened, John saw two individuals standing before him. One was a tall brunette with hair down to her shoulders and a fair face. He knew she was the Captain because of the red insignia on her shoulder. The other was also a woman, about the same height as Captain Ramius, but with short black hair and a serious look on her face. John assumed that was Lieutenant Badgiruel, the ship's first mate.
John saluted the two woman as he approached and made sure he had a smile on his face when he did so, because that was the way he always did it, and they saluted back. "Colonel Namora, welcome to the Archangel," Captain Ramius said.
"Thank you, for having us Captain," John replied, with a smile, "It's not that often I get to set foot on a ship like this, much less one this famous."
"Famous, Colonel?" Captain Ramius asked.
"You're the only people I know who were able to evade Rau le Creuset's team. You were also one of the few ships who escaped Alaska. Not too many people in the world don't know this ship, Captain."
"Oh...well, thank you sir. Please follow me to the bridge." Captain Ramius said. She spun on her heel and walked back toward the bridge with Lieutenant Badgiruel walking briskly behind her. John and Richards follow stride for stride.
John watched as Captain Ramius slid her I.D. through the slot designated, Geez...there's a lot of those on this ship, he thought, and had her eye scanned by the visual sensor just above it. The steel doors gradually slid open to reveal the ship's bridge in all its magnificent glory. As John walked through the doors, he couldn't help but notice that every eye on the bridge had turned to watch him walk through the doors. Hmm...didn't know I was that famous, John thought.
From where he stood, John could see the morning sun bristling off the ocean waves where the ship was docked. He had seen millions of sun scenes around the world, in many different locations, but he would have to add this one to his collection. Captain Ramius had sat down in her command chair with Lieutenant Badgiruel standing right beside her. John and Richards took up their stances on the other side of the Captain.
Captain Ramius then spoke. "Colonel, I...have to assume you will be taking command of this vessel until we reach the launch point so-."
"Wait, wait wait..." John said surprised, "Who said I was taking command of this ship?"
Lieutenant Badgiruel looked over in his direction. "Sir...I uh...we assumed you, as senior officer aboard, would be in command here for the mission..."
John smiled back, "Why would I want to do something like that? I have no idea how this ship works. As far as I'm concerned, you two are running the show aboard, I'm just along for the ride."
"Oh...well...thank you sir," replied Captain Ramius.
"Please, call me John. I hate sir."
"Fine then. Do you have the orders we've been assigned, Colonel?" Captain Ramius asked.
"Yes, my XO Mr. Richards has them, Jack?"
Richards set his briefcase down and opened it, removing a sheet of paper that the Council had sent John the night before. Richards handed them to John, who took his glasses out of his pocket, he needed them to read, and began reading the orders.
"Colonel John Namora,
Congratulations on completing the training process. Your men performed better than I expected. The Council does not agree with your decision to accompany your men on this mission, but I have left the choice up to you. Now, you will proceed with the second phase of the mission to which you have been assigned. From Nova Scotia, you and the Archangel are to proceed southward, then southeast, to the designated point 750 miles north, northwest of the ZAFT's Cuba base. From this "launching point", you, your pilots, and their crews will launch from the Archangel, all sixteen J-bombers which you have been given. After the completion of the launch, the Archangel will proceed to our base in Bermuda to be refueled. Once airborne, you and your men will execute an aerial assault on the ZAFT base and shipyards located in Holguin, Cuba. After completion of attack phase, you will continue to proceed southward to the nation of Colombia, where upon successful landing of the planes, you will be contacted by Colombian rebels, given over to Earth Forces operatives, and return to California by the morning after. Failure is not an option considered by myself or the Council, so get this done. Good luck.
Signed,
Admiral William Sutherland
7th Orbital Fleet."
John removed his glasses, folded them up and said, "Well...those orders are pretty self-explanatory, I think." He turned back around to face Captain Ramius. "You sure you're willing to put the Archangel in this kind of dangerous situation Captain?"
Captain Ramius merely smiled. "This ship has been in, and survived, more dangerous missions than this one Colonel. There's no way we'd hang you out to dry."
"Thank you, Captain. Now as for this moment-." John was cut off by the beeping sound of his radio going off. "Uh...excuse me Captain." John stepped off to the side and pulled the radio to his ear. "Namora, here."
"Colonel, your officers have arrived." John recognized the voice on the end as Niada Barrington.
"All right, I'll be down shortly." He shut off his radio and turned back to Captain Ramius. "Captain, I have some other business to attend to right now, so if you'll excuse me. Jack stay up here and make sure everything gets loaded on alright?"
"Yes, sir," Richard replied as he saluted.
John returned the salute and trotted out through the blast doors. He walked back through the walkway toward the elevator which would take him back down into the hangar. Well...that went O.K. Captain seems nice enough, he thought, Just hope Mwu and the others have good excuses as to why they showed up late...
-Battleship Archangel, Nova Scotia, July 6, C.E. 71, 1030.
As far as he could tell from where he stood, the Archangel hadn't changed all that much since he had last set foot on her at Alaska. Sure, she had been repainted, though she still had the same colors as before, and she had new weapons systems installed, but otherwise, it was as if he had never left.
That was what Mwu thought at least. At the moment, he stood leaning up against a stack of crates in the Archangel's main hangar complex. Hugh and Frank were off to his left standing in much the same fashion. They had run, practically sprinted, all the way from the bunks to the dock where the ship was berthed, all while carrying their bags and other things on their backs. Mwu was still attempting to catch his breath after the long run.
Next time, make sure you get a bunk closer to the dock... Mwu thought through his constant panting.
"Gentleman!" Mwu heard the voice call from the other side of the hangar. He lifted up his head to see John walking toward them. Mwu had assumed John would be upset with them because they had overslept, but John didn't seem all that angry. In fact, he had a smile on his face.
"Sir," the three said as they saluted their commander. John returned the salute and stopped in front of the three friends. He scanned each of them carefully, seemingly to make sure that they were each meeting protocol. Mwu had on his dress uniform jacket, uniform pants, and his officer's hat, along with his black shoes. Hugh and Frank were dressed in the same way except while Mwu and Hugh's shoulder patches were black, Frank's was blue, deeming him only a Lieutenant Commander. Finally John stopped and stared at them all, taking a deep breath and then began speaking. Oh boy, Mwu thought, here we go...
-Battleship Archangel, Nova Scotia, July 6, C.E. 71, 1030.
"So as you can see, the Council has virtually deemed this mission a suicide strike," Jack said as he spoke with Murrue and Natarle, "and they really don't expect us to get it done."
Murrue still sat in her command chair, where she had been when Colonel Namora left several minutes before. She really wasn't paying attention to Sgt. Richards. Instead her mind was elsewhere. Mwu. Frank. Where are you? This guy's boring me... Murrue had to admit that Richards really was. He had been going on and on for several minutes on what the Council expected out of them on this mission. Frankly, Murrue could care less what the Council thought, just as long as she got the job done.
"The Council and Col. Namora haven't really been on good relations as of late," Richards continued. "They really don't appreciate some of the risks he's been taking and-."
"Sergeant," Natarle interrupted. Murrue could hear, more or less see, that Natarle was getting bored as well. "What was the business Col. Namora had to go off to so quickly before?" she asked.
"Business...? Oh...well...I guess his other officers finally showed up, so-."
"Thank you, Sergeant Richards, that will be all for now," Murrue said as she stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I also have business to take care off." She saluted and walked briskly out of the bridge and into the walkway. It wasn't until she was already out of the bridge that she noticed Natarle was following her. "Lieutenant Badgiruel?"
"You couldn't stand him any longer either, huh?" Natarle replied.
"No, not really," Murrue answered, "all that talk about what the Council expects of us, I mean, do they actually want us to kill everyone at the base?"
"With the way he was talking, it sure sounded like it." The two continued walking and entered the elevator. Murrue pushed a button that would take them to the floor above the hangar where the main observation balcony was. It was from there that the two could look out and see all what was happening inside the hangar complex. "So, where are we headed?" Natarle asked.
"Observation balcony. I want to see if my brother's arrived yet." Murrue answered.
"Oh," Natarle said. "And you want to see if Commander la Flaga's here yet?" Murrue could hear a touch of mockery in Natarle's voice. But, she had expected that. All she had really thought about, when she wasn't commanding the ship of course, was Mwu and Frank's arrival. The elevator stopped at its programmed destination and the two women stepped out. Finally, they reached the observation balcony. From it they witnessed the workman performing repairs on the Strike after it had been virtually destroyed months earlier, along with the remaining men and women loading the J-bombers and equipment the men would need for the mission to Cuba.
Then, over by where the J's were being lifted into the hangar, she saw him. He was standing there, leaning up against the stacks of crates, sleeves rolled up, hat cocked to one side of his head. His blonde hair hadn't changed at all and as far as Murrue was concerned, Mwu didn't have to change a thing about him. She glanced to Mwu's left and saw a tall blonde man, she assumed was Commander Swanson. He had the same look as Mwu, with his blonde hair and rolled up sleeves, but he stood out because he was several inches taller than Mwu. Finally, she saw her brother. He hadn't changed at all. His autumn colored hair matched her own, cropped on top of his head along with his matching mustache sprayed across his upper lip. His smile was still the same and he didn't look all that different. Murrue smiled at the sight. The two people she cared about most right now, were finally back.
Over yonder, she could hear the conversation the men had as Colonel Namora approached them. "Guys, what the hell's been going on? I told you 0930, where were you?"
"Sleeping..." Mwu replied cautiously. Murrue could tell he said it with reluctance.
"Sleeping? Hah, like I haven't heard that before. Why didn't you wake up earlier?" Colonel Namora asked.
Before Mwu could answer, Hugh intervened, "Because Mr. Late-Night here didn't set his alarm clock," he was referring to Mwu of course.
Mwu glanced sideways back at Hugh and said, "What!? Come on like you couldn't have set it yourself?"
"I went to sleep right when I got back from last night, Mwu. You were the last one awake."
"Oh, shut up. You probably did this all on purpose as it was." Mwu commented.
"Hey, you're gonna blame this on me!?" Hugh snapped.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I am, Hugh." Mwu replied back, rising on his toes in order to meet Hugh eye to eye at the same height. All the while, Frank had been giggling like a school-kid watching his friends argue before him. He had become accustomed to these arguments ever since he met Mwu and Hugh during their academy days.
Finally, Colonel Namora had had enough. "Guys! Guys! Knock it off, you're supposed to be officers not school-kids."
Mwu and Hugh still had their eyes locked, but then they both smiled and laughed. John did too and the argument was over. Then John said, "Mwu, all the stuff loaded?"
"Yeah pretty much," Mwu replied, "All the planes and birds are on. Just waiting for the last guns and we can go."
"Alright, tell Stevy as soon as the last stuff is loaded to tell Captain Ramius to leave. Now come on, let's go see if this bar you've told us about Mwu is as good as you say it is," Namora said with his usual smile. The four men gathered up their belongings and headed out of the hangar.
Above them on the observation balcony, Murrue was smiling gleefully. Mwu hadn't changed. Frank hadn't changed. They all were still the same as she remembered them. This was going to be a fun time.
"Well, it's obvious Mwu hasn't changed," Natarle commented.
"No he hasn't, Lieutenant," Murrue answered as she turned back to her friend who was also smiling, "No he hasn't."