Chapter 15
"Sir?"
questioned the same junior officer from before, knocking on Brandt's
door.
"Yes, what is it," he replied calmly,
shutting his communicator and sliding it into its holster on his
belt.
"We have landed," informed the officer,
knowing that he sounded stupid.
"It appears we have,"
Brandt said with a chuckle, opening his door.
The junior
officer headed back to the bridge to inform Priss, while Brandt made
his way to the cargo bays. He entered the elevator, pressing the
key to engage the lift, taking him to the bays on the lowest level.
"We need the help," thought Brandt, "but, I
can't afford the USC finding out that a superior force was aiding us,
then all hell would break loose, making peace even harder to
attain."
The levels passed by, one after another.
"I need the parts for my units, but that would cause question
among my own troops, since quality supplies are hard to come by in
these trying times of the war."
The lift slowed,
nearing the bottom of the shaft.
"I will find some way
of attaining their assistance," Brandt said, reassuringly.
The doors opened, lights bathing the lift. Activity was
numerous, maintenance crews getting were getting all of the units
ready for transport.
"I see this war turning for the
worse for some reason in the future," thought Brandt, having a
gut instinct about him.
"Where the hell have you
been, Fielding?" ranted Bently, not happy with Fielding's little
side trip.
"I tracked down the USC cruiser that
escaped on my way ba-" Fielding managed.
"I don't
care, you disobeyed a direct order by straying off course,"
interrupted Bently, "but, seeing you managed to eliminate THE
Jonathan Fielding, I will let you off with a warning."
Fielding winced at the name, either the Admiral was just stupid, or
he knew that Jonathan was Fielding's brother.
"It
won't happen again, Sir," Fielding replied, keeping his cool.
"It better not," Bently continued, "otherwise
you will be dishonorably discharged, then sent to work the resource
mines by Jupiter."
The screen went blank, then
returning to the empty view of space in front of them.
"I
will not be treated like a dog, not by him, not by no one,"
thought Fielding, gritting his teeth.
His crew knew what
their "victory" had wrought, pain and suffering for
Fielding and a royal ass chewing by command for their actions against
direct orders.
"Sir,"
informed Priss, handing him a data disk, "current reports on the
war, appears that we are doing fairly well up here."
"Thank you, X.O.," Fielding replied, taking the disk from
Priss.
Fielding slid the disk into his PDA, activating the
device. He skimmed through the documents in his all-to-usual way,
only reading important and noticeable points. Side 3 and 7 are under
EMF control, along with the Mars Research Facilities, from what the
files stated. Side 4 and 5, one each on either side of Side 3 are
amassing large armadas, larger than they have ever had before. The
report continued, stating that the ground war is running fairly well
besides the small number of forces that made it through and set up a
base. Fielding took careful attention to various reports of 'unknown
enemy units."
"What is this, Priss?"
questioned Fielding, allowing him to read the report on the unknown
enemy units.
"Your guess is as good as mine," replied
Priss, "I think it has something to do with that reentry capsule
we saw at the MS facility."
Fielding snapped towards Priss,
remembering that day.
"I think you are right, Priss,"
Fielding said, thought about his voice, "Did they ever find out
what that was."
"Not that I know of, Sir,"
replied Priss, "A search party found a decoy, but not the real
object, so it is still a mystery."
"My
grandfather told me a story when I was little," informed
Fielding, as Priss knelt down, "of a mobile suit that was
powerful, so powerful that it would take hundreds of units to put a
dent in it."
"I have never heard of such a thing,
Sir," Priss said blankfully.
"I believe he
referred to these suits as Gundams, mobile suits constructed
completely of Gundanium Alloy, a very rare, synthetic material,"
Fielding continued, informing his X.O. about these super suits.
"The last recorded use of the was around A.C. 195-196,"
Fielding informed, "so roughly a century ago, these mobile
suits, actually, all mobile suits, were decommissioned and destroyed
to promote peace, which has gotten us really far," he added at
the end with sarcasm in his voice.
"I know,"
Priss said, "but it seems it is in people's nature to fight, so
history will continue to repeat itself in a vicious cycle."
"So it would seem," Fielding finished, looking out the
viewport, seeing Earth.
"But," he stated, "we
must do our duty, no matter what."
"Now what,
Sir?" questioned Priss, waiting until Bentley was finished.
"I guess we sit here on our asses like we were ordered to,"
replied Fielding with sarcasm in his voice.
Disgusted, Fielding lifted himself out of his chair and headed for the airlock at the rear of the bridge.
"Priss,"
Fielding said as he walked through the doorway, 'your in charge until
I come back."
"Yes, Sir," Priss replied, as
Fielding disappeared behind the airlock.
"I got
it," thought Rachel, after thinking for a seemingly endless
amount of time, "I will just ask him a couple of questions, and
base his attraction off of his answers."
Rachel
glanced down at her watch, seeing it was nearing time for the
transport to arrive at their position. She sent a message to Rush,
who was still sleeping.
"Rush, wake up," she said,
seeing him in an awkward position in his chair, "c'mon
sleepyhead, time to wake up."
Rush continued to snore,
turning on his side.
"Wake up, jackass," she
growled, becoming irritated by Rush's continuous actions.
Rush slowly rose, hearing her yell.
"Good," she
commented, "glad to see that you are ready, did you have a good
nap?"
"Shut up," he snapped, rubbing his
eyes, "I was enjoying my peace of mind until you woke me up."
"Get over it," Rachel informed, "it's time to go
to work, so get ready, intel was pretty horrible on this one so we
need to be ready for anything."
Rush snapped awake, he
didn't like the words "horrible intel" put together.
"What do you mean?" he questioned, not wanting to hear
those words.
"Satellite imagery isn't the best because
of the EMF's jammers, so everything is blurry and there isn't any
definites on this transport, but it is our mission, we need to do it,
so be ready for anything," Rachel replied.
"Alright,"
Rush stated, turning on his active scanners, getting ready for their
planned attack.
"You do remember the plan, don't you?"
questioned Rachel, knowing he probably already forgot.
"Yeah, I kill them while you sit there and look pretty," he
replied, flirtingly.
"No, tha-, wait, what did you
say?" Rachel stopped herself and listed to him.
"I
said you sit there and look pretty," Rush repeated himself.
Rachel blushed a little, finally know Rush had some kind of
attraction to her.
"Do you seriously know what you are
supposed to do?" Rachel managed, still blushed.
"Yes,
I am on the lookout for scouts and whatnot, while you protect my ass
in the process," he said being serious for once.
"Correct," she replied, "it shouldn't be long before
the transport comes through here, so be ready."
"Way
ahead of you," he said, with his usually cocky tone.
"Don't make me have to save you again, Rush," replied
Rachel with a stern voice.
"No problem," Rush said,
finishing the conversation.
He sat there watching his screen
for any activity, thinking.
"Why did I say that, she
knows I like her, but I don't want to appear desperate or anything
like that, so what am I going to do?" Rush pondered, nothing
happening on his screen.
"I'll think about this later,"
Rush continued, "This whole mission on the other hand, I have a
really bad feeling about."
"Commander Brandt,
Sir!" saluted a Lieutenant, as the transport was being loaded
behind them.
"At ease, Lieutenant," Brandt replied,
returning the salute, "How long until we depart?"
"Within 10 minutes, Sir," the Lt. informed, checking his
watch.
"Good," Brandt said, "I want my unit in
a car all by itself, ok?"
"Yes, Sir." obeyed
the Lt.
He jogged over to the crane operator that was
loading the mobile suits into the cars, each holding 4 with vehicles
of all sorts in the middle. Each car had considerable defenses, a
twin beam cannon turret on top with a small caliber gattling cannon
at either end of the car. The entire train had armor, protecting from
every known weapon in the USC's arsenal. Brandt watched as his
battalion was loaded up, supplies and all, waiting to arrive at the
EMF base on the eastern seaboard of the continent of North America.
"I have a bad feeling about this," thought Brandt,
looking in the distance, "no amount of armament will settle my
feeling about this one."
