Mobile Suit Gundam: Blood is freedoms stain
Chapter 6
"""This is Titans … ship Damman. We are in pursuit … Zeon Remnant, they've alrea… destroyed two of our mobile suits…"""
-
EFSF Patrol Saxon, Magellan class cruiser
Earth orbit
UC 0085.07.22
Full battle alert, the alarm hums through the ship as it were its heartbeat. The crew of the Saxon are in a state of emergency, less than two hours ago they received a distress call. A Titans vessel has come in contact with Zeon pirate force, composition unknown. One cruiser crippled and at least two MS kills, that concludes that these Zeon aren't heavily equipped. If they weren't capable of sinking a ship one can assume that they don't have a supporting cruiser, meaning no Musai or Zanzibar. Or even heavy weaponry, which rule out bazookas and Rick-Doms.
Where is that bloody map?
Mobile suits can't get so deep in Federation space on their own. They must have a carrier ship at the least, most likely a Pazock. A normal Zeon unit consists out of three suits, mainly the same type and occasionally led by a commander type. Yet they wouldn't attack a cruiser head on without proper back up, so three suits must be an absolute minimum. Two teams seem more plausible against an Alexandria class. Weapons are trickier, again they would be using the most common, the antique 120mm rifle. Highly unlikely but not impossible would be that they have a spare beamrifle on their ship.
Why did those Titans have to drag us in this mess?
But now what are they up to so close to Earth? There is nothing of interest anywhere in orbit except for the occasional sattelite. So, unless they wanted to broadcast a pirate message, their target must be on Earth. That would give them access to an HLV or a Komusai type. It'd be better if it were just an HLV, that means that their target is in a smaller area on Earth and easier to locate.
Where did I throw that damn map now?
If they are indeed Axis then this should be a reconaissance mission. And that would mean that they have to return alive to report their findings. Any form of long range communication is a too great a risk, it could reveal the location of their base. Since that the asteroid is way out of range of any mere carrier ship it would mean that the base is closeby. I'm guessing Luna as their base of operations - those Lunarians aren't to be trusted – especially when you have sufficient Credits. The Sides are also a possibility but they are monitored by EFSF patrols, not to mention that the Zeon Republicans keep an eye out too.
I need a drink.
It is the sixty third time that Captain Vance studies the map of the Earth sphere over again. Hoping that his staring at it might reveal the route of the Zeon ship. Every five minutes or so his attention slips away to a small liquor cabinet near the door of his quarters. Just to think about the alcohol stored there makes his hands tremble uncontrollably, one of those signs of his six year addiction. Yet he manages to keep himself within certain boundaries, as long as he's on duty that is.
"Jeez, Jack… Get a hold of yourself!" He curses himself as he slaps himself on the forehead.
As he fights the temptation to drink, Vance is reminded to the very reason he started. It is a tale told over and over again in the solar system, one that always happens to hundreds if not thousands of other people during a war. The thing that started it was the most dear to him, Samuel Vance– his son. Jack was so proud when his son became an officer aboard a Salamis, stationed at colony 13 of Side 2.
They never knew what hit them.
Most people can't bear the thought of outliving their children, some kill themselves and others get over it– altough they're never really the same. The Captain sought refuge in the bottle. His quote is very simple; Truth lies at the bottom of the glass. And by now that sixty seven year old bottle of Gin is looking pretty attractive. Fighting the objections of his subconscience he pours himself a glass. When he reaches the glass to his mouth the telephone disturbs him.
"Sir, we're almost in range of the Titans vessel."
The sound of the XO. Lt. Cmdr. Gersen, he always picks the best time to interrupt. He puts his drink back on the table against his wishes.
"Very well, Mr. Gersen, I'll be on the bridge in five."
Reluctant he leaves the full glass on the table, the sweet taste of apple aroma barely touched his lips. Bacchus doesn't favor him today.
"Captain on the bridge!" The Chief of the Boat yells when laying eyes on his superior. He jumps into attention and is quickly backed up by all other bridgemembers.
"At ease, Mr. Cob." Captain Vance remarks without emotion. Which isn't hard since it's standard operating procedure and can happen multiple times a day, so those words tend to lose their meaning after a while and become nothing more than automated responses. But that soon makes place for a feeling of joy when he hears the executive officer order the transfer of command.
"Captain has the bridge!"
Almost simultaneously Vance repeats that order. He loves it when his authority is acknowledged.
"What's the status, Mr. Gersen?"
"We're almost in hailing range." Gersen responds, gazing far off in the distance of space, hoping to finally see the Damman.
"Any traces of the enemy?" The Captain asks while raising a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He too tries to find something before the rest of the bridge crew does.
"You didn't order to look for that, Sir."
"But you did." He pouts in disbelief, challenging the credibility of the XO's statement.
"Of course." Gersen chuckles, only to frown when he reports the foundings so far. "Nothing. Not a damn thing! There is combat wreckage here, but the scanners…"
"Probably being interfered by the Minovsky Particles."
"That's just it, Skipper. It's 0.00 density, not a single particle. There are no recent traces of weapon signatures. As for the wreckage, if it weren't Quel's I'd say it's leftover scrap from the Big One, the generators are icecold. Normally that takes about a week and even then we should get some energy readings.-"
"We are in hailing range, Captain." The helmsman interrupts.
"Open a comm-link." Vance orders in commanding tone while turning his attention to the radio equipment. "Attention Titan vessel. This is Captain Vance of the EFSF patrolboat Saxon. We have picked up your distress signal and are offering our assistance."
Here the captain pauses for some kind of response. Only the slow evading motion of the Damman is the reaction that the Titans make when seeing Federate presence.
"They're ignoring us." Gersen notices on observing the movement of the Alexandria class.
"Incoming laser communication! From Konpeitoh." The comm-officer turns around suprised on his chair, the headphone only placed on his left ear. Before it could be ordered the signal is patched through to the ship's intercom.
"""Federation ship, this matter falls under Titan juristiction. Your assistance is no longer required nor is it wanted. Retu-…"""
The voice continues its rant, only to become unhearable when the Saxon's commanding officer starts to object.
"Who is this? Identify yourself!" Vance bellows aggitated by the arrogance of the speaker.
Silence reigns for almost a full minute. The outgoing message has to travel an immense distance of cold space before reaching the asteroid fortress of Konpeitoh. Even when received it takes a moment for the the Titan to formulate a careful answer, considering various factors that are going to be involved in the following discussion. The static on the channel signals an incoming answer.
"""Lieutenant Mickis, adjudant of Captain Bask Ohm, Titans. Echelon Special Operations."""
"Then you clearly have no authority over this vessel and certainly not over me, Sir. Captain Jack Vance, Earth Federation Space Forces." The Captain laughs back triumphant at his opponent. "We have received an SOS and possible enemy activity. We will investigate the area, because regulations say so!"
"""I warn you, Captain. Return to your duties immediately, or you will be considered to be in violation-"""
And again Jack Vance loses his temper.
"Look here Titan! Unless you come with orders from a Commodore, or up, you can't stop us. Or do you consider a complaint with the Commitee of Departemental Affairs a pleasant prospect? They'll have a field day with this."
"""Consider this, Captain. You will be charged with obstructing an official Titans investigation, if you choose to persist. Don't be a fool and stand down. Konpeitoh out!"""
"Damn those Black Dogs!" Vance hisses through his clenched teeth.
"What do we do now, Sir?" Gersen asks, concerned about the actions taken against possible insubordination.
"We'll do as we're told, Mr. Gersen. We go back to our patrol." The Captain explains while rubbing the drowziness out of his tired eyes. Then focusing on another crewmember in front of the bridge.
"Helmsman Lanarck. Lay a course, 2-5-8 by 3-4-9!"
"Aye aye, Captain. 258 by 349!" The Chief of the Boat repeats the issued order with a booming voice, which tries to cover the excitement he feels.
Gersen looks up surprised after he figures out where the new course leads to. "That would take us to the moon, Captain. Not Earth orbit."
"Relax, Mr. Gersen. We're just taking a turn back to our designated patrol area. Isn't that right, Mr. Cob?" Vance switches his eyes between the two men.
"The turn is broader than usual, Lt. Cmdr." The Cob answers to the quite baffled XO, no longer hiding his feelings about disobeying Titan orders. It wouldn't be the first time for him and his captain.
"Just like the old days."
Vance hints back on previous occassions when they bended the orders to their unique interpretation, which was usually the other way around. Most notably was at the beginning of the war, on his former command aboard the EFSF Enterprise, when he disobeyed direct orders to retreat from Side 4. Captain Vance couldn't just leave innocent civilians behind caught in the merciless claws of the Zeon juggernaut! Yet after they found out about the use of G3-gas they could have court-martialed him for war crimes if he followed those orders. This knife would have cut both ways, was it not for the radio interference generated by the Minovsky Particles. This was the very first time they witnessed such a phenomenon and he was able to dodge the blame of disobeying direct orders. (1)
"Hell yeah, Skipper- har har har!"
-
Komusai II, armoured transport shuttle
Course set for Luna
UC 0085.07.23
The last twenty four hours have been the most crazy hours in Ken Layzner's life. As if it were yesterday when he fought at Solomon, as if it were his entire life he spent in a Federation jail only to escape after six years in less than an hour. Yesterday he was enjoying a rugby match with his two friends, today he has to bury one.
Dead…
Left forgotten for the last six years only to be rescued in a way that makes the Zeon Blitz from the War look like a children's game. Why, after all this time, do they finally come for them? Didn't they know up until yesterday? If they are truly Axis Zeon as said, then maybe… there's still hope for spacenoid independence.
How did this happen? You have been put down like a dog. What can I say to the dead? That I'm sorry?
A cabin on the shuttle, usually used as a private quarters, is now transformed into a place mourning. Tony Perce's body lies in state on the bunk. Here in this serene place Ken Layzner contemplates his coming course of action. Different thoughts enter his mind, what to do with the body, where are we going, what's going on, how am I going to live my life now I'm free. Layzner and Gruber have two choices; hang on to the body and take it to a colony cemetary for cremation or one of the war cemetaries on Luna for burial.
A choice not without danger, they will stand out for sure when they pass with a corpse through Customs on any Side or a lunar city. Not to mention all the trouble to get him buried or cremated.
And there is of course the second option, which is usually only used in times of war or necessity. A space burial.
Just one more dead on the pile, all for the ultimate End Victory of Zeon. Blood needs to be spilled! And I have to apologize for following my path?
Nor Ken nor Gruber have to say a word, for they know what they have to do. Just like the old days in the war, they repeat what has been done a thousand times before. Silent and serene the body is handled and wrapped in one of the grey woolen bedsheets from the Komusai. Karl Gruber gently lifts the head while Ken Layzner ties the rope, holding the blanket in place around the corpse. It's no casket but it does the job just as good.
Yet I don't- I can't feel sorry. If I do, I'll betray everything I hold dear. Freedom isn't obtained without staines! How can I live with myself if I recant the things I did and endured for my belief- MY DREAM!
Ivy has lined the shuttle in a course so the airlock exit is pointed straight towards the sun's golden disc. With a thick felt-tip Gruber draws a grand Zeonic sign on the blanket around Perce's chest, followed by name, rank and serial number. Should the body be picked up by a passing ship he can get a proper funeral without questions asked, without tracking it back to our friends position.
"We're ready, hotshot." Wayne unemotionally refers to Layzner when he enters the room. Rather surprised to see the enemy be able to behave like this. Totally different from common Federate view from back in the war. As if the Zeeks are a bunch of savages unable to show or experience any emotion other than bloodlust and hatred. Clearing his throat he continues "The airlock is fully prepped. You guys need a hand?"
Ken, rising his head, awakens from what only can be described as a silent prayer, although he doesn't consider himself a religious person.
"That will not be necessary. He was- is our comrade."
"It is our responsibility to do this alone. The one last thing we can do for Tony." Karl Gruber supports while squeezing his eyes shut, preventing the tears from filling them.
Does that make me bad? Evil? A monster?
And so the two place Tony Perce's earthly remains in the Komusai's airlock, which reeks of burnt oil and other maintenance supplies. Yet a faint scent of incense could be smelled when they enter with the glorified body bag. For a second one might think that a higher power caused this so that he could depart with a bit more dignity. Maybe a golden haired angel, swaying a dish of various types of incense, could be seen hovering above in the airlock. Perhaps a god, sympathetic to the Zeon Cause, was moved and sent angels to escort him to the heavens.
But reality was much more dark, empty, uncaring… more harsh. The only bright side of the situation is that Tony's corpse won't become maggot food.
Staring through the double plated window of the reinforced plasteel door his comrades silently commemorate Tony one last time. Then Ken Layzner pushes the outer door-release button. A white wind is made visible by the sudden shift of pressure, which carries the body off into the void. Six eyes follow the twirling course, which is faster than one would expect, almost stoical. Knowing that it could have been either one of them instead.
"Atten-SHUN!" and three pair of heels clack together and all salute. For as long as the casket remained in sight.
After a few moments Wayne asks with questioning eyes to the others. "Shouldn't someone say a few words?"
"Why? It's better to die a hero then to live in disgrace. Yet he didn't give up by taking his own life. As a true warrior he endured the shame until he was given this opportunity."
Still saluting Ken answers him with the doctrine which he has devoted his life to, the kind which the Principality founded.
"I envy him."
When did I become… this monster?
Slowly colony wreckage from the War drifts by, huge metal skeletons now rolled up like a ball of twine. Ungoing static on the communications array reveals residual Minovsky Particle clouds gathered around the rubble. It was believed that the particles would cease to excist after a while, yet traces remained in vacuous space which ultimatily came together forming clouds around the few gravitational points, in this case colony remains, in the unending black void. This in turn has the unique (dis)advantage, depending on your point of view, to hide the people who don't want to be found, persons in trouble with local law enforcement, smugglers, pirates or the Remnant,…
These shoal zones in Federation-regulated space are the only safehavens for the likes of privateers. Mainly because the EFSF doesn't patrol these areas, underfunded and no effective communication when things go wrong. And they tend to go wrong. A lot! Just three weeks ago a Salamis cruiser patrolling the outskirts of such a shoal zone was ambushed by presumable space pirates, after they halted a vessel which was suspected to be involved with black marketeering. Too late they saw the Musai loom up behind them.
Behind the debris the great marble colored disc of Luna reveals itself, growing bigger as the shuttle approaches. At the helm sits Ivy, typing in the necessary data for the auto-pilot. Wayne monitors the radio from a control board a bit behind her. After a while they're joined by their two new comrades, who climb up the narrow ladder with caution. Especially the bulkhead that seperates the cockpit from the rest of the ship, which is located above that sleek ladder. Both men are mesmerized when they gaze upon the surface of the moon. Just to see the glorious lunar cities makes them forget what happened the last six years. Almost like it didn't…
First to enter is Gruber.
"Watch out for that last ste-"
"God-DAMMIT!"
That warning came a bit too late for Ken, bumping his head hard on the top of the bulkhead port. Three pairs of amazed eyes turn towards him, Ken only glares at Karl.
"Told you it was a tricky one" he responds with a faint laugh.
"I see you've changed, hotshot." Wayne interrupts, referring to the blue-grey Zimmad overalls the boys now wear. "What do you think? I know it doesn't have the sway of a Principality uniform but at least we won't attract any unwanted attention."
"What do you mean, we are flying around in a damn Komusai. We can't look any more Zeonic. They'll arrest us as soon as we close in on Luna." Ken barks, mostly from the splitting headache but also because it sounds like sheer stupidity.
"Relax hotshot. We look indeed like a vessel from the Republic of Zeon. You might not know but Side 3 still uses ships and mobiles from the Principality. The Zimmad-logo printed everywhere guarantees that people won't even ask about the MS in the cargo hull." He smirks with contempt.
"Jeez. Don't be such a jerk, Vinny!" Ivy yells from behind the forward control panel. Glaring intensly at him in the hope of shutting him up. His blabbermouthing might give them away. "Never mind him, you guys, he was born that way."
As soon as he opened his mouth to reply with a snappy comeback, the static on the radio stirs up violently before making place for an endless stream of different communication channels.
The first is a popular Lunar TV channel in the middle of a commercial break. It advises all to buy electrical appliances from Monterry Electronics, it has low-low prices. Second is another television broadcast. The portrait of an EFF unit in Northern Europe during the One Year War. Thousands upon thousands of such documentaries are already made about the War. Then comes the OSMS-music station, bringing the tunes from the Outer Sphere Metalscene. Playing now is a small time Trash'n Roll band, hailing from Side 7, going by the name of Chainsaw. Screaming guitarsolos and groundsplitting drums are heard and felt throughout the Komusai.
After a few more tries they finally get an uplink with the Lunar Docking Commission. """Unidentified ship, please state your destination and purpose."""
"This is Zimmad Komusai Transport; Zulu Kilo Tango, zero niner six, dash four Lima. Sending override code now. Over." Replies Ivy, who has put on a headset after making contact. She has already entered the correct landing protocols which are described by the predetermined override code. Set up by the CIC so the docking personnel doesn't get too nosy on the transport.
"""Roger that. ZKT 096-4L acknowledged, code validated. New Antwerp dockbay 347 is at your disposal. Laserguided entry standing by."""
The ship nears the baydoors and a vibrant tremor is felt when the laserguiding system takes over. Returned to our people. Until they finally hit lunar ground. We are back. The sizzling of engines cooling off, all kinds of noises and sounds when it slightly bends through the pneumatic pumps of the wheels. To walk over the avenues of Zuum City once more. The Komusai feels almost to be relaxing after such an exhausting trip. Home at last.
Home at last…
(1) A reference to SulliMike23's Tales from the Mobile Suit: Tale 1: Second Lieutenant Michael Sullivan-FF-S3 Saberfish-Attack on Side-4