AN: Well here are for chapter two of my newest ongoing story for UC Gundam. I have no note worthy news to comment on really for this chapter so I will just cut to the chase and get to the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: Still don't own Gundam though I still wouldn't mind owning it!
Chapter Two: An Old Battlefield And New Soldiers
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
June 24th, 0091 UC
1200 Hours
The sole downside to having spread particles before the operation was the one that was now plaguing him. Due to the particle's notorious effect of scrambling communications and burning out electronics he was forced to make do with simply observing. He could not issue commands beyond the ones given during the briefing he had delivered to these pilots days ago. Any minute or tactical changes would have come from every pilot on the ground, he could not adapt his strategy to fit the situation.
In essence it was the worst thing that could to happen to a commander of men.
Yet he was not overly concerned, no his men were professionals either the hardened killers of whatever organizations of Zeon forces he had stumbled into still operating on Earth that where willing to join with him in his mission or the remnants of the Neo Zeon battle group he had commanded since that day in 0089. Yes he had faith in his men, faith to see this done and while that faith did not extend to his would be defector all the same he could predict what would occur should she comply and follow his commands. Of course the opposite was true as well but he didn't have much in the way of contingencies should that occur, but given they had been unaware of the coming strike until it had already been launched he supposed he could conclude that she had joined with them.
He had her informed of the date of the attack, the when and where of it if not the means, something to minimize the risk of it being compromised should she find her flagging loyalty to the Federation bolstered. She knew nothing of the composition of his forces, the presence of the Degwin, though given that no alarm had been sounded he supposed that including those details may have been beneficial, perhaps she could have advised on target placements. Though he supposed he had done adequate in that, much of the infrastructure would be rubble after this assault, the base would be rendered pointless, and that was all he could hope for, it would weaken the Federation's hold on the Pacific and allow them free reign to accomplish the next stage of the operation.
This first blow would merely be the prelude to the proper start of things after all, like Gihren, Haman and Delaz before him, his opening gambit was merely to reveal the first of his cards to the opponent. He wanted the Federation to become aware that even here, on Earth that Zeon could operate and strike with impunity, that his force was strong enough to strike at even military targets, once that was accomplished along with the operation goals of this mission they could depart, but not beforehand. After all, if the Major played ball he'd have everything he needed for the next stage of things.
Having access to the Federation's data archives after all would grant him much that he needed, particularly for the finale but those thoughts were of course best saved for the future.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
June 24th, 0091 UC
1200 Hours
Strolling amid the sandy beaches and hills of the outer perimeter of the naval base he was reminded of a time now long past. A time in which these sands would have been stained red, drown in blood, piles of corpse up to his waist, the stench of rot and copper permeating the air. This base, this region, all of it a decade ago had been caught in the midst of the war. Their war, the whistle and crack of artillery, the combustion of high explosive shells. The rush and heat of incoming waves of flame and fire, the struggle against Federation in California had been all of these things and more.
All of it ingrained into his memory forever, that desperate holding action, that pointless last stand in North America against a numerically superior force they could never hope to defeat. While the blood and bodies had been cleared away long ago, the stench of gun powder and rust long since faded, the carrion birds and maggots long since departed. The scars in the Earth remained, the impact into hills from shells, patches of sand turned glass from the heat of beam weaponry, spent and discarded metallic casing of cartridges still littered the area on the outskirts of the base.
While indeed the entire California Base perimeter had the sight of several battles, it was here, at Monterey that he had fought what was to be his final battle here on Earth in the name of the Principality. Here on the distant coastlands of California so far away from Side Three that he was pitted against a horde of GM's, air forces and assorted ground assault vehicles and tanks. Under the command of then Major Garret Schmitzer the rather infamous commander of Midnight Fenir, the Base Commander himself had already fled days before their eventual withdrawal. Indeed had fate proved differently that day in early December he might have been stuck on Earth fighting alongside that renowned company in their final battle in Australia as it stood though, he had forced to evacuate.
He had no choice at the time his J type which had barely been holding up since the raid at Jaburo finally failed him ushering into his second defeat, with another to follow at Solomon mere weeks later. Yet as it stood despite the fury of the war in space, despite all he witnessed in his months of combat and service, this battle here in California had been among the bloodiest of the fighting he had ever witnessed in his now relatively long life.
And now it was being relived in the present.
All the same though he wouldn't mind observing a bit closer then from where he currently was, after all it was his duty as the commander to witness his men's valor in battle firsthand.
'Besides...I need to be close enough to issue direct orders anyway.' So he could indulge his revere for destruction and still act in tactical accordance with his plans.
This would be a good day, so unlike that day in California all that time ago.
Twelve Years Ago
Zeon Held North American Territories, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
December 12th, 0079 UC
MS-06J Zaku II
1000 Hours
"Can't believed I missed you all taking on a damned Gundam of all things." He groused aloud he tossed the half finished ration bar to the floor of his cockpit alongside other half finished rations, cigarette butts and other trash that littered it. Mouth still straining to chew on the tar like mixture of granola and preserved fruit. That shit was just disgusting but the majority of the supplies like the majority of personal, staff, munitions, officers and technicians assigned to the base at Monterey were mustered off into space days ago. That process had begun a week ago when it had become increasingly obvious that they would never be able to hold on to California's precious defensive line along the sea. All the factories, plants and technical facilities would soon be falling back into the hands of the enemy, and that was when the withdraw began.
HLV after HLV launching back up into space as quickly as possible, despite the base being fairly along the coast away from the Mexican border where the Federation horde was coming from, they had no illusions of being able to holdout against a tide of mobile suits. A tide that had been unleashed at Jaburo and had followed them back here to from where they had launched that ill fated assault.
"It was good fight." The warm if somewhat boastful tone of the Lieutenant of Midnight Fenir confirmed over the static ridden comms as she responded his complaining. To think that while he had the rest of the eastern defense line company were off fighting against a tidal wave of GM types the aces that made up the select corps of Midnight Fenrir would engage not only a horde of mass production knock off Gundams but a Gundam itself. He wish he had been present for that event in question truth be told, ever since coming down to Earth since the Gundam and Trojan Horse had been responsible for Admiral Garma's death had slipped through the North American garrison's fingers he had been itching to return that particular score.
He heard stories about that machine and with the death of an ace of Ramba Ral's stature at the hands of that machine and ship it was quickly confirmed, at least to him that they were more then just mere stories. That pilot and machine were costing Zeon ridiculous amounts of mobile suits, facilities and personal.
'Was it the White Devil?' That thought resounded within his mind amid the stillness of the prelude of the coming assault. Had Fenrir avenged Garma? He wasn't going to ask though. It was obvious it hadn't been, the Gundam responsible for that act undoubtedly wouldn't be lost as easily as all that, not to mention it would have been a PR coup that they could have declared to the world that even the greatest of the Federation could not stand against the military might of Zeon, as it stood though it was too little too late for even the destruction of a Gundam wouldn't be some mass reversal of fortunes. The military strength of Zeon's North America garrisons had been depleted by the mission to Jaburo and the destruction of more then half that force had left them would no recourse save to withdraw to space.
"Kries remember to keep track of what ammo you got left, it isn't like we have much to rearm ourselves with these days." The Zeon female officer and pilot known as Sandra affirmed over the static ridden comms as their J types walked in tandem around the shelled out exterior of the base perimeter. Another push was coming, they all knew it, they had scarcely beaten off the prong the prior day, and the day before. Eventually a massed assault would overwhelm them, but until that happened they would continue to cover the withdraw of the forces and materials of the bases into space. California Base, once the strongest garrison force in North America if not the majority of the world had been whittled down to nothing, where once they had boasted a force of more then a hundred mobile suits...they now had less then two dozen operational units after Jaburo and several fierce days of fighting off the Federation across the borders of their territory...and when they were pushed back to the bases themselves.
Their Zaku made quite the pair his customized black and gold, his standard while her own the standard green factory drab yet adorned with the rather fetching sigil of her company. He had ceased requests for applying any marker beyond suit number and squadron since the disbanding of Typhon he just didn't have it within him to be fly the standard of a dead team. It was too macabre even for his tastes. An irony to be sure given that he bore their very marker upon the scarred and torn flesh of his arm, of all the places that the destruction of his C type had spared why had it been that arm? That dark tar like ink still burrowed into his flesh, the symbol of the unit etched plain as day upon his flesh.
Yet all the same it wouldn't matter come the next attack what color his machine was, or what color those he was to be fighting with were. What unit or division or even service branch they worked within. Come the Federation attack they would all become brothers and sisters of battle.
"Rodger." He confirmed over the line, it wasn't as if he wasn't pressingly aware of just how precious every round within his Zaku's machine gun or its bazooka was, far from it. He was only too aware of just how scarce those resources were becoming here, no new munitions were being produced at the factories located within the facilities of the collection of bases, no new parts were being shipped in, no fuel, no ammo, nothing. They had to make do with what was provided to defend the base, what wouldn't or couldn't be shot back up into orbit. Yet all the same he wouldn't gripe about it to the Lieutenant, that would accomplish nothing, no grousing at here would solve none of their problems and thus it was utterly pointless.
They had more then enough to contend with in the Federation, they had no need to devolve into petty arguments among themselves.
He noticed that she paused at that confirmation and then he heard laugh aloud through the comms. It was...oddly melodic. "Why couldn't we get assigned a nice professional like you?" He heard her question aloud and he made no effort to comment upon it. It wasn't worth the time nor the headache to explain to her that he had indeed been in a unit very much like her own at the start of this war...no it would serve no one for her, or indeed the rest of Fenrir to find out about Typhon, the past was the past and they had much more to concern themselves with then a team that had ceased to exist in any sort of operational status eleven months ago.
As if to confirm his point another handful blips came into existence upon his active radar moving far faster then a team of mobile suits had any right to be traveling. 'Another bombing raid...' At the very least they wouldn't have to contend with those knock off Gundam's. They had been bombing and shelling the base and its perimeter whenever they had the chance up until now, trying to wear down the defenses, pinpoint valuable combat locations, test their reaction time to the assaults, all of this was just a probe for the inevitable counter attack, and with but a scarce handful of them left, it would come any day now.
"Heads up Sandra we have another incoming wave coming from point 704 south, from their speed on the active, I'd expect them to be Tincod or something to that effect. Can't tell how many from just the scan. Probably a few though...Call it in." He wiped away a spare droplet of blood that escaped from his nose after the fact. 'This dry climate is hell on my sinuses.' Checking his ammunition readouts once more to keep track of the pitiful amounts left within his armament he had his Zaku stop in place as it reloaded its 120mm casting aside the relatively empty magazine in place for his sole remaining fresh one, he'd have to make this work with just a 100 shots.
As another droplet of blood fell free of his nose he grimly noted the dark crimson stain as the droplet fell upon his dark green uniform, even here and now months after the fact he was reminded every day of how his body was only barely holding itself together in the aftermath of Side One. The pinnacle of Zeon military medical technologies and treatments, reconstructive surgeries and even with all of that, even being bed and coma ridden for nearly a month resulted in...this. A body capable of fighting but not feeling, his skin was insensate, his immune system required weekly booster shots to even function, yet that did nothing to prevent the ringing that plagued his head, the steady throbbing pain that echoed through his skull during battle.
Without morphine he couldn't even fight now, he'd be reduced to a hacking, sobbing mess inside a few volleys of fire. Hopefully once he got back into space some more permanent measures could be found to reconstitute him, he would not be a dope fiend for the rest of his life. Yet even as that thought entered his mind his hands dug into his uniform of their own accord pulling free the small medical bottle that contained within the capsules he had been proscribed to take, multiple times daily...as needed.
Holy spirits of Zeon...what had Gihren been thinking sending him down below to fight on Earth? Him a barely functioning wreck, a castoff from the first month of the war, his skill persisted he supposed, he had experience, both as a soldier and commander but even so.
Present Day
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Main Runway
RGM GM III
June 24th, 0091 UC
1300 Hours
"Moving into position." He spoke through the commline to what little was left of his deployment, most of his squadron had been retasked to engage yet more incoming Zeon forces from the port. While he along with a handful of others were given the objective of securing and holding the main launch runway of the base against the enemy. It wasn't going to be an easy task but thankfully he wasn't going to be the thick of the Zeon suits, no he'd be giving the other forces supportive fire long range fire due to his current armament, only if things went horribly awry would he be forced to engage anything beyond a prolonged 'sniper's duel'.
As his GM made its way up the flaming rubble that had once been barracks, staff housing and vehicle depots on his way to reach his selected vantage point he couldn't help but think that if this attack had come just a few days earlier they might have been far better off. Much as he despised the newly formed Londo Bell having one of their strike cruisers in port during this attack would have certainly aided them but all the same, they were long gone and there was no sense hoping for help that wouldn't come. They'd have to hold out and deal with this assault themselves, the closest note worthy reinforcements were almost six hours away half way across the country.
As his GM lowered itself into firing position the machine acting the part of a soldier taking a classical marksmen stance his rifle's optics acting in concrete with his GM's primary head mounted camera scanned across the smoke and fire dominated battlefield. According to the last few reports the enemy had around half dozen to a bit more then a dozen machines in operation across the base with the majority seemingly concentrated at the port with the incoming wave of aquatic units. Though through the smoke and haze of battle he could make out a distant figure through ongoing conflict. At the far end of the base, at the onlook beyond the base past the runway.
"Who the hell is that?" Standing atop the mound overlooking the base, just beyond the fenced in perimeter stood a singular person. Clad in the same black and gold themed normal suit he had come to associate with Haman Karn's forces and yet there was something off about the figure. There was no indication that they planned to flee nor withdraw from the sight of battle if anything they were perfectly content watching the ongoing spectacle. Win or lose they were going to stand there and watch it unfold, it was an odd experience. Most would be getting to their mobile suit as rapidly as possible and yet this person could have come to the sight of battle without one, despite the force of the base now being directed against the Zeon forces wholeheartedly.
Just watching, observing. It was just creepy, there was something disturbingly macabre about the onlooker just gazing down upon the sight that was this clash between Neo Zeon and Federation. He couldn't make out any prevalent details, not from this distance, he couldn't tell gender, nor age, not through the helmed visage that was the sealed and pressurized helmet that the uniformed solider had donned but something was resoundingly wrong with this picture. Even among the Titans there had been those who had found the act of battle appealing, had drawn pleasure from it. From fighting, killing, but he had not once, never encountered a person who simply stopped to gawk at a ongoing battle with no apparent care if his side won or lost, simply breathing in the spectacle.
It was creepy to put simply.
'Crazy Zeke...' He shook his head, perhaps that was the commander observing the results of his force battling the Federation, if so he was about lose a few of his comrades in the next few minutes. He just needed to wait on the rest of the squad to engage the enemy earnestly and then he could begin taking out the incoming machines with well placed sniper fire. It was an old tactic true, draw the enemy out of potentially defensible locations and into an open area with a wide view where enemy marksmen lied in wait, but it would work here just as it had a dozen times over throughout his career.
Checking his machine's energy output and the rifle's own internal cell he was pleased by the result, he had a little over twenty or so shots, more then enough given the power of this beam rifle. It'd boil through anything short of enriched and reinforced Bi-layered Luna Titanium otherwise known as Gundarium with just glancing shots, against plain old mobile suit materials such as traditional titanium and high strength steel wouldn't prove any sort of protection, not even with all the particle dispersion that the enemy had unleashed here, no his shot would retain enough energy to be lethal, he knew it, he knew it because it had to be so. If they didn't stop this assault here, who knew what these old Zekes would get up to if they weren't stop here and now.
They came here with a specific objective, this was now just some sort of targeted revenge against the Federation, no there was something more at play here and he would be damned if he didn't stop the Zeon from succeeding in whatever objective they came here with.
"In position, awaiting assault team." He radioed out, the comm spewing static and garbled words in reply. The closer one came to the detonation point of those initial particle shells the worse the commutations situation got, if not for suit to suit radio no doubt they'd be at an even greater disadvantage but all the same, he hoped that the message he had gotten into his proper firing lane got through. If they couldn't end this assault soon, it would become a slog against the Zeon forces as they just became better entrenched, they had to end this as quickly and decisively as possible. Still though this Zeon outfit was unusually well equipped for stragglers, it made him curious. 'Just where the hell did they dig up old M particle weapons?' It made sense to use them of course, it'd debilitate their response with how it'd slow it down but those weapons were costly, rare. You were essentially wasting would could have been a reactor for a mobile suit potentially with every one used, and yet they had detonated multiple missiles.
Just how many resources was this remnant group operating with? All the same though however well financed, however well equipped or armed they were it changed not a thing, not his job, not his mission. His mission had but a single operational mandate.
Ensure that these men knew that they should have never have come here, that they should have never gotten out of the grave the AEUG and Federation had thrown them in two years ago. They would all die here, there would be no war to come of this, he would die before he let these Zeons kicked off yet another one of those insane little crusades of theirs.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Main Runway
RGM GM III
June 24th, 0091 UC
1300 Hours
"Got you!" He exclaimed as yet another one of the aquatic units, this time an aging Z'Gok exploded into a blanket of fire and scrap as the beam round pierced its thick frontal chest armor and erupted out the other side in a flurry of sparks and flame. That marked his second kill of the past few minutes, apparently the squadron running interference at the dry dock was proving itself enough of annoyance that it was causing the forces there to try to reengage. Units that had been tearing their way through the base and causing all sorts of mischief and chaos were forced to try to defend their rear lines or else risk them being overextended and caught between two now strengthened enemy positions.
It all led to mistakes like this. Truthfully though he didn't know how well this battle would be going if they weren't up against such relic like mobile suits, most of what he had seen was taken from the days of the One Year War. Only a handful of suits so far witnessed were even approaching modern day, he had seen a Capule earlier along with a handful of Zaku Marines, other then that though it looked like a collection of walking scrap. Dangerous he supposed but not from this distance, not when they were busy engaging other forces.
The battle was reversing itself nicely, soon enough they'd beat off this pitiful assault and chase these Zeon rats back to whatever hole they had crawled out of. They have been surprisingly well equipped, but all the same they were relics of a bygone age. Another explosion rocked the base casting a glare or orange and red across his suit's optics as a two storied warehouse along the outer shoreline of the base exploded faint trails of particle energy dancing in the air around the flaming wreckage. As black chemical clouds spilled into the air he couldn't help but to shake his head. 'The Fuel Depot?' They were targeting the critical infrastructure that much was certain, with much of their petrol supplies now burning away anything that wasn't going to run off a reactor was effectively neutralized.
It was a smart play but it wouldn't reverse the tide of the battle, tanks and fighter jets weren't enough to go up against mobile suits anyway. Yet all the same, what if they weren't trying to effect the course of the battle with strikes such as that? He thought back to the initial targets of the shelling during the lead up to the attack, they were all critical infrastructure. Armories, hangars, command buildings, barracks, they had wanted to neutralize as much of their fighting strength as possible before they had even landed, what if that was just a continuation of it? Why though? Why would they got to all the trouble, sacrifice both mobile suits and pilots along with who knew how much valuable high explosive ammunition to demolish what amounted to a single base on the Pacific shore?
'What if this isn't just some suicidal revenge mission...' What if they had come here with specific purpose. The chill he had felt at the announcement of the attack resurfaced, nothing about this strike was adding up.
If they were trying to effectively neutralize their ability to pursue them from this location, they had more or less succeeded but why? What had they come here for? Why launch such a daring attack during the middle of the day of all things? What caused this?
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Main Runway
RX-178 Gundam Mk-II
June 24th, 0091 UC
1300
'Still has a decent amount of power from its last training sortie...good.' She had been admittedly worried about the prospect of clambering into the machine only to find it about as useful as a 40 ton paper weight. That thankfully wasn't the case while its stock of propellant, fuel and its reactor timer wasn't exactly encouraging it none the less would suffice at the task of getting the machine away from Monterey and that was all that mattered at the moment, getting the data back to him and freeing her machine from the Federation.
As monitors, gauges and sensors lit up around the cockpit she for perhaps the first time in months felt at peace with herself. At ease, this was where she was belonged, where she needed to be, she wasn't cut out for anything but this. Being a pilot, a soldier, someone who took other people's lives for arbitrary reasons of politics. Yes it had been foolish she supposed to ever expect a life beyond this sort of service, she had been content once to merely safeguard the peace that she and so many others had fought for. To preserve it, protect it from all those who would wish to shatter it and return the solar system to a state of war once more and yet...that had not stopped the AEUG, It had not stopped Neo Zeon, despite all the efforts of the Titans the Federation was beset by war again and again.
She fought against that, for the people of the Federation, for the people of Earth...
All it earned her was being tossed into prison on account of her being a officer within the Titans. For the crime of a uniform she was demoted, sent to trial for crimes she did not commit, imprisoned and dishonored and barely kept within the service at all. She had given enough to this corrupt government, she had given it enough of her life, enough of her time. No more would she senselessly bleed and suffer for it, from here until her death it would be her enemy, something she would fight against with all her being.
She would rip this cancerous degeneration out of the Federation with fire and blood.
The world would be remade and society would not long suffer under the rule of those so self important and entitled that they would be willingly cast aside millions of citizens for political convenience. To achieve this perhaps she would sell her soul to Zeon, to be labeled a traitor, a defector but all the same change was not coming from within, even the political changes that the AEUG had once fought for had been buried beneath the preceding war and the red tape of bureaucratic inefficiencies. No, this was the only way and as the primary canopy of the cockpit alight with the flash of monitors and cameras activating she knew this to be true.
Change could not always come peacefully, sometimes blood had to be spilled for society to be impacted as needed, and for the Federation's own gross incompetence and corruption to be rooted out...much would have to be done, the old Zeke had more less assembled an army she knew, he had weapons, and men to fight and this alliance of political convenience was the shortest path forward for both their respective goals.
He wanted the resurrection of an independent nation of Spacenoids without the yoke of the Federation, the revival of the old Principality. She sought a new sitting government for the Federation, to wipe away all the old and corrupted bureaucrats that ran it now, to replace them with younger, more earnest men and women who look beyond themselves and do what was best for all the people of Earth and space, not just their own profit margins.
As the front of the mobile suit became a clear image as the cameras focused she forced the suit to raise upward, standing perhaps for the first time in years to engage in actual combat. Perhaps since the last time she had flown it all that time ago, yet all the same none of its weaponry was equipped upon it save one of its inbuilt beam sabers that was still mounted upon the chassis, she'd have to make usage of whatever was lying about the secondary hangar. Hopefully there would be more then just old training weapons lying around, paint pellets and dummy lasers wouldn't be any good in a actual firefight.
Checking her suit readouts however revealed something she had missed, upon its rear storage rack was something interesting, a leftover of its time with the Titans. Pulling the thick metal shield free of her suit's back she smiled earnestly, they hadn't thought to take this at the very least, this Luna Titanium construct could double as a weapon,at the very least it could allow her to get proper tools of war into her hands. While it slowed her movement, and made proper coordination more difficult, it would easily make up for that in both its defensive and offensive utilities. Yet as her machine scanned the room taking in the various arms that lied upon racks and storage containers she frowned at the sight. There was nothing here that was suitable for combat, just old Zeon and Titan cast off weapons that had been converted to training modules; nothing at at all that would disable a suit beyond perhaps base damage, nothing that could penetrate even the old armor of a Zaku II effectively.
Not to mention the hangar doors were still sealed preventing her machine from even leaving the
But there were other means of not only gaining access to the base but also damaging yet another structure present within the hangar. It just meant that more of the Titan's legacy would have to be sacrificed.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Main Runway
RGM GM III
June 24th, 0091 UC
1300 Hours
'Another miss?' Just how agile was one Capule supposed to be outside of the water? While he had never encountered one of the newer lines of Neo Zeon's aquatic MS in actual combat he had gone over the specs a few times during drills and simulations, this machine was either upgraded and tweaked to perfection or had a stellar pilot. 'Likely both'. Knowing his luck he was fighting some ranking veteran that had been service since the days of the One Year War and had only become increasingly more deadly as the years rolled by and mobile suit technologies were enhanced. As the beam round shot over the target and the Capule continued to close into range for it own particle barrage he couldn't help but drift back to the days in which he had fought against the AEUG and Neo Zeon years ago.
There had been something to those battles, some clash of opposing ideologies, views of life, politics, something that pushed it beyond the bounds of senseless slaughter and wanton destruction for the sake of it. Yet here this seemed to be the complete opposite, whatever ideals and beliefs that these soldiers carried with them was buried beneath the intent to just wreak destruction upon the world, someone within his mind just reeled at the evident 'truth' of that belief. These were the soldiers who would see Earth razed and utterly ruined for the sake of whatever twisted ambitions they held, they had to be stopped, and he would stop them. Even as his beam rifle fired once more and the Capule nimbly avoided it by leaping above the shot, his rifle was cast aside in favor of his suit's beam saber as the Capule lunged downward its nailed gauntlets raised upward to impale him just as the beam saber came up.
The clash of hardened steel and particle resulted in his suit being forced back a step as the Capule was repulsed just to continue its own onslaught its claws still swinging towards his machine was if was going to bisect it with every attack, yet not a single blow landed thankfully due to some rather agile swordplay yet he couldn't keep this up forever. His machine wasn't designed to be a primarily melee combatant, it couldn't match the Capule in its ground based mobility but he would have to make do.
Having to avoid near point blank beam projector fire wasn't his idea of a good time but if he could gain some distance from the Capule he would only increase his advantage as he pulled back. This suit was built for close to mid range engagements while his own was built for medium to long range combat. If he could pull back to rifle range once again, he'd win and both pilots likely knew this which was why the Capule pursued.
Firing and lunging at every opportunity to land a blow yet with some quick maneuvering and footwork he was able to keep his machine intact even as volleys of beam fire shot past it. The oddest thing seemed to happen during that withdraw though, the secondary hangar just exploded outward, it had taken limited shelling during the attack but nothing that would have resulted in the fireball that erupted from within it. Besides the blast had been contained to inside the structure, not from an exterior strike or the result of ranged bombardment.
As the building burned in the background he couldn't help but to notice that the Capule had stopped pursuing him, it merely stood in position as if awaiting something. Ready to once again begin its attack yet holding back for the moment. 'What are you waiting for? What just happened?' This was all kinds of crazy, that Zeon nearly had him on the ropes and yet here and now it was just allowing him to gain the needed to range once again employ its beam rifle? What was this? The result of pride? Did the pilot want to die? Was the entire point of this suicide via battle? Yet that went against what he had observed earlier, there clearly was something behind this assault, the resources and manpower committed to it suggested as much.
This was a group with a plan. It was a bundle of contradictions within his head but as smaller secondary explosions and gouts of smoke and flame erupted from the wreckage that had been the secondary hangar his attention was diverted as what had once been a solid, if somewhat aged steel paneled wall roughly perhaps 15 meters or tall was shoved back he recoiled within his pilot's chair as he had his machine slowly pan his camera mount over there, ensuring that he kept the Capule and the drydock in sight as he did so was a pain but like hell if he'd turn his back on a Zeon.
As section of wall fell away it was soon revealed what had pushed it away. 'A mobile suit?' Despite it being rather difficult to make out it's profie through all the smoke and flame that was rushing about its frame he could see the tell-tale head mount of its primary camera. A Gundam. 'Is that a MK II? They had one of those here on base?' If they had maintained such a rare and limited Titans production MS here on base then surely he would have been notified about it, though perhaps not. Given how he was treated these days by the brass here on base, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that such an iconic weapon of the Titans would be hidden away from him, after all he had fought alongside MK-IIs in several engagements during the war with the AEUG.
The Titan's 'novice' pilot he supposed wasn't worthy of being told about the relic of a now bygone age that was just sitting in a secondary hangar rusting away. Thankfully however this piece of Titan's hardware would come in handy pushing back the Zeon here and now, maybe clear a little bit of the infamy away from its name while doing so. 'Best hail the machine so we can coordinate an attack...' He wasn't willing to trust the Capule to stay in place forever, it still being passive despite the Gundam's appearance was indeed odd. Even if it was just a mass production model you'd figure any Zeon that had fought against the Federation before would know of the awesome and devastating power of one of these machines.
Before he could even bring his hand up to hail the machine however it began advancing out of the hangar wreckage, its wide gait and pace made its movement seem stiff and robotic compared to the normal bipedal almost human like movement of a GM yet all the same he'd take all the help he got get right now. The rest of his squad was still fighting the Zeon at the drydock and he'd have to make do with any backup possible.
"GM pilot stand aside." He heard the familiar voice across the line and just stared once more at the machine.
"Commander? Why are you in..." He would never finish that communication.
He would never forget what she said next.
"I'm defecting to Zeon."
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Main Runway
AMX-109 Capule (Yuuka Custom Variant)
June 24th, 0091 UC
1300 Hours
Across the tarmac beam sabers swatted away at each other and from her eye it wasn't even close to an even contest she could tell their would be defector was easily outpacing the GM pilot she had herself been contending with mere minutes before hand. 'She's good.' She could grant the Federation turncoat that much, even with a machine that had clearly not seen proper combat maintaining in years, something relegated as a trainer suit she was outpacing the combat ready GM platform handily, though perhaps that was merely because the specs of the MK II were so much better then that of any castoff mass production GM.
Proving her point a mere nanosecond later the GM left itself overextended upon a desperate defense and its blade was merely slapped aside by the MK and the particle projector fell free of the GM's grasp crashing to the asphalt and concrete of the runway.
Yet she was forced to turn her attention away from that to the figure that was still strolling about the battle ground seemingly looking at the same time completely out of place yet comfortable being among the wreckage of burning buildings, destroyed mobile suits and overturned vehicles. 'The Captain.' She couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight of that, it was so ludicrous. The man most important to their cause, a person that was so vital to this operation that if they lost him it would result in the complete collapse of their ambition, and yet he was strolling about as if he had no cares in the world, despite the battle ground that the base had become, despite the fact that death could so easily come to him without the protection afforded by a mobile suit.
She noted that he was signalling her and she was responded immediately, it wouldn't do to keep the Captain waiting.
Lowering her arm mount down to the runway when directed was child's play even as the battle between the two Federation mobile suit's was ongoing but a few dozen meters. The Captain had requested to come aboard once again which meant that this phase was over, her fun for what it was worth was done for this day. 'Unfortunate' She had scarcely killed five Federation machines before the raid was all but over but the Captain knew what he was doing, her task was to merely serve and in doing so help him accomplish what he sought to do. If he thought enough damage had been wreaked upon the Federation facilities then it had been, or at the very least enough of it to justify the losses taken this day.
As the Captain gingerly stepped into the awaiting claw as she brought it upward to the cockpit access he was already looking grim even as the hatch cycled and opened. She could tell he was somewhat at the very least eager to leave. 'Just what happened here in California back during the war?' She knew that he had lost machine in that battle, it was the end of the last Zaku he would ever pilot in service to the Principality, but beyond such scant details as that she was in the dark completely. She supposed it didn't make much difference by this point, a few snippets of his service record were more then she likely deserved to know of a battle she had not taken part in.
As their eyes met she could see the growing frustration within them. 'He wishes he could take part, direct things from within a mobile suit...' Her captain was so absolute in his devotion to his cause, to his men it was almost...heartwarming to see. That earnest desire was rare.
"Prepare for withdraw Yuuka, send up the signal we have accomplished the mission." He commanded and she would comply as he pushed past her pilot seat back into the further rear jump seat and secondary control interfaces that made up the rear sections of the cockpit.
"Sir." She acknowledged.
As she was preparing to issue the general withdraw orders via flare she noted that the MK II now had the GM solely at it's mercy, the beam saber's molten energized particle blade mere feet away from its cockpit and the pilot that waited within. 'Why has she not killed them already?' It was obvious that this had been no ploy on O'Sullivan's part, that she was honest as she had claimed within her communications to the Captain that she was willing to go over to the other side yet all the same...she was staying her hand here.
"Yuuka." The voice behind her startled her out of her thoughts and she gave a grunt of acknowledgement before launching upward a collection of piercingly blue flares into the bright sky of the afternoon.
"Do a direct suit to suit communication with the MK II. General broadcast." That was odd 'no encryption?' While it was true that this was easily the fastest means of communicating with a suit not already registered upon the com-net this would also leave it quite open to interception and possibly even leaking into other broadcast channels, whatever was said here could become public knowledge upon the battlefield within minutes. As she went open her mouth to inquire about this choice he merely reaffirmed it. "Yuuka. Do it." She would comply, it was his decision and he clearly had his reasons for it.
"O'Sullivan. Do you have it?" The question was simple and straight forward and instantly she understood exactly why he wanted do it in this manner. 'He's burning all of your bridges for you just in case you get...second thoughts.'
The reply came not a heartbeat later.
"Yes."
The Captain gave a nod that she could make out before his next command was issued. It was clear as day he was pleased.
"We are disengaging, the location of our forward operations center will be sent via laser burst to your onboard. I shall expect you presently."
Thirty Two Minutes Later
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Deep Ocean Transit Supply Ship: Valiant Journey, 142 Nautical Miles Offshore
June 24th, 0091 UC
1400 Hours
They had served their purpose, the mission was a success, yet with the incoming Federation forces he admitted at least to himself, here and now internally that his options had dwindled down to perhaps one or two avenues of response. They could stand in fight, which would be a disaster, they simply lacked the firepower and numbers to emerge victorious in shape enough to continue operations or they could attempt a fighting retreat as they withdrew deeper into the ocean towards safer berths. Yet even if by some chance that measure proved viable, it would also give the Federation a clear indicator of their heading, their destination which likewise couldn't be tolerated.
It was far too earlier in the game for the Federation to be given a clear idea of just where they where heading, after all if they located their destination, what lay there be targeted and that couldn't be allowed. Overall he had one chance, one choice to make and it was a disheartening revelation that he had indeed predicted the appropriate measures to take beforehand. A trump card so to say, one that would undoubtedly mark him as a damned soul, even among the Zeon even contemplating what he had set into motion would throw him into the realm of figures such as Cima or Glemy. Yet he had no choice, not truly, or perhaps he had several and was simply too stupid to have foreseen other potential measures that could have allowed him another metric to survive the coming retaliation from the Federation.
Yes either he was starkly brilliant but a traitor willing to throw loyal soldiers to their pointless deaths to suit whim or he was a fool incapable of doing anything but capitalizing on that loss. Either way it bore no compliment to him.
He heard the crash of the impacting mobile suit striking the forward deck, the mere sight of the 'Gundam' through the bridge's main viewport sent tendrils of revulsion about him yet all the same this suit would prove valuable in the coming days. After that mobile suit platform had been put to use for Zeon before, yes the soldiers of Zeon had made usage of the data provided by Gundam frames to design and outfit measures that would ensure the success of Zeon. Be it in their Doven Wolves or elsewhere, they had made use of that technology before, this time it would only in a more immediate sense. Yet with the arrival of the 'Major' he had only a few scant minutes left to make his decision.
If she had arrived here then the Federation had undoubtedly already reclaimed the base, though he knew that to be inevitable he had hoped for just a few minutes more. Still there was nothing left for it, he turned to Yuuka and offered her a grim smile of resignation. Tight and thin flesh wrapped around muscle offering minute comfort to the prospect of what he was about to offer his men in return for loyal service. There was no judgement in her gaze, no remorse nor hesitation she wouldn't remark nor offer condemnation upon what he was about to do. Perhaps she had come to the same conclusion, the same outcome as he had, that this was despite his sheer monstrosity at undertaking this, it was what was needed.
Or perhaps she was simply leaving her own thoughts within her head, not thinking her place to remark upon his behavior whether or not this was support of his decision or otherwise apathy ultimately he supposed it made no difference. It was his call to make, he was the one in command here. "They are targeting the submarine." He heard the offhanded remark from his second a mere instant before a plume of light plunged into the ocean, had they already located the Dewgin? If so then it merely confirmed what he needed to do, if the active sonar installations at the base had already pinpointed its general local with enough precision to guide in anti-submarine missiles into the region then there was nothing left for it.
A moment of silence passed across the bridge as he eyed the clear waters of the ocean before them if, if by some miracle the Degwin had avoided the round it could disembark, retreat, prevent him from staining his hands with yet more Zeon blood.
Amid the stilled and calm seas of the Pacific he could barely make out the Degwin as it resurfaced, its worn and scarred hull offering the faintest of landmark in the vastness of Earth's ocean. With the Degwin having surfaced, it having been located, targeted it was already over for Taylor he could not be allowed to share the secrets of Zeon's naval berth, he could not be allowed to interfere with Olympus. They needed those secrets to remain secrets if just for a little while longer, trading the submarine for a handful of days...a week or two at most.
It was a pathetic exchange, yet one he would eagerly take.
Sighing audibly his gaze turned to the bridge's main control station, its radio array, its transmission array, navigation and system control. Luckily for him this wouldn't take long, he just had to transmit on the right frequency to arm the device, a few seconds would be enough to start the countdown, and then well he'd need a drink after this, probably several and despite his doctor's condemnation, his own failing health...he would at the very least bury his memories of this day in a temporary haze, but not yet. Now he had to get work.
Walking past the men at stations even as the radar pings continued to confirm that there were indeed incoming Federation forces converging around the Degwin, undoubtedly ordering its surrender yet Taylor would not, no he would do his duty and die for the premise of their cause. The rebirth of Zeon, he was merely offering Taylor an out that aided in their own escape, he was stealing his choice in the matter. Denying him the honor of a worthy death in service to their mandate, it was shameful yet it was all he had left to him now. Pulling the small slip of paper free of his normal suit he eyed the detonation frequency listing for just a moment before ordering what had to be done.
"Begin immediate localization transmission at point .148 surface grid." Of all the acts he had committed his life, all he had done for Zeon, all he had given up, sacrificed, it was this and this alone that shone a torch upon just what the great leaders of their cause had done gone through during their own wars against the Federation. The pressure, the mentality they had to adopt, the cost vs gain scenarios that constantly had to be going through their minds.
Yet none the less he had to get into position, he could only hope that those modifications to allow earth operation were complete, if not he'd have to pass this bothersome task on to another.
"Yuuka...You have command until I return." He offered his second the brief order before he stormed out of the bridge, he had to get down into the holds.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
RGM GM III
June 24th, 0091 UC
1400 Hours
"Begin immediate pursuit. I am ordering mass deployment, everything we have capable of extended air travel launch...now! We don't have time to mess around here, those bastards are getting away!" Steven heard the command, despite the rolling chaos that was his mind he heard the order. He knew he should carry it out and yet...he couldn't even find it within himself to move a single muscle, little lone go through the process of firing up the thruster rig on his suit's backpack, no he couldn't move, he couldn't think, he could scarcely breath.
'I'm defecting to Zeon.' Four words. Four words that had no right in the world to carry the immeasurable weight within his soul that they did but all the same they resounded with his mind just as they had across the comms mere minutes before hand.
"Steven you awake in there? We just got retasked for the pursuit mission. Hello?" His chipper squad-mate intoned across the air waves of direct suit to suit laser burst comms. He shook himself away from his stupor, he could not fall apart here and now, he was needed, every pilot capable of further combat was needed, command was right. They could not allow the Zeon to get away with such a vicious assault, while the damage had been only moderate, the sting to his pride felt much worse. They had thought themselves safe from further Zeon incursion, this far out from Haman's little war, no one could have thought that any one of the scattered and disorganized groups of Zeon rebels could have prepared to such an extent for a strike like this.
It made him feel the fool in this entire scenario. 'She knew, she had to know...' Why else pick this moment to defect?
"Right, yeah...sorry I'm fine. Just preoccupied." A woman he had personally served with, one that had been his commander, something of a mentor to him had just gone off the deep end and defected to the bastards who dropped rocks on the Earth for fun. It was to put it mildly a worst case scenario, and to make matters worse she had turned over nothing less then one of the older but still clearly effective Mass Production Gundam units to them. Worse still she was a capable pilot in that machine, that much he could recall from two years ago quite plainly.
Fingers tightening on the stick he was just about to preparing the squad to launch when command once more broke through on the commlines.
"We have detected a launch from further out to sea, we can barely make it out through the particle dispersion but we have an incoming launch...standby for further orders" Was it from their submarine? Another assault craft? Shelling the base at this point would hardly result any more damage, most of the major structures had already been hit at least once and doing it again wouldn't slow down their pursuit so why? 'There has to be something more then to this then them merely wanting to cover their escape.' Within a few minutes every suit they had capable of long distance pursuit would be launching, this wouldn't slow that down, not one single missile.
"Whatever it is, we cannot let it stop us!" He directed over the communication lines to his squad, whom it seemed had likewise been stilled by the launch of the sudden projectile, unwilling to be victims of what could have been a renewal of the Zeon assault. 'I have to know...I have to know why she did this, why she would do this...' He would pry answers from his former commander, he would know why she would turn tail and defect, why such a renowned, tireless warrior of the Federation would do the unthinkable and defect.
The sooner he got out there, the sooner he could find out the answers to these questions that plagued him.
In this moment he could put aside whatever he felt, whatever plagued him for the good his men and the mission.
Bringing his hand up to the communication array he sent a direct transmission to command. If they wanted everyone deployed, they'd get it. "Talon squad to base command, we are preparing for operations against the Zeon submarine and offshore carrier. Please transmit all relevant radar and telemetry data to our onboards." They would sink that damned submarine and carrier, and end this once and for all. This would not result in another war, he'd be damned if he let these Zeons drag them back into another hellish period of weeks or even months of warfare.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
MS-14J ReGelgu V2 'Finstergeist', 137 Nautical Miles Offshore
June 24th, 0091 UC
1400 Hours
The cockpit stank of industrial solvents, fresh electronics, grease and artificial purifiers for air. It was a new machine, at least from the interior out he supposed even if the frame was built upon an older machine, the Finstergiest was one of a kind. The click of the internal commline broke him from his observation and he halfheartedly keyed the line. No matter how beautiful the machine he couldn't admire it from within all day, it was needed right now.
"Signal is good, alright...please go through the pre-launch checklist if you would Captain." Nakamura's level if some what croaking elderly voice broke through the line, he rolled his eyes at the request but none the less he would comply. After all he was entrusting his life, his hopes, to this machine, for it to carry them to completion. He keyed up the system registries and began reciting off the OS operating levels one after the other.
"Internal gyros are all registering green, fuel is good, systems are registering good connections, reactor is operating within acceptable standards." He listed off the shortened checklist he had to go over for his suit's 'maiden' launch. While it was more or less true he had been flying a model of this type for around a decade or so the new variant he had been informed by Nakamura would exceed any and all expectations he had set upon the creation of the next generation of his personal machine.
Which was not something he took lightly at all, while the standard Regelgu he had flown in service to Haman Karn years prior had been a notable step up from the aging model it had been upgraded from it still power many of the trademark limitations that suits of the era of the Zeon War of Independence bore. Be it in the limited amount of fuel or the rather antiquated sensor and radar systems aboard the craft, the "Finstergeist" however was designed to be the next generation of Gelgoog. A one off, a prototype to testbed all the latest and greatest that the former chief designer could offer. From increasing the total amount of thrusters and verniers installed upon the machine, to improving its overall base reactor housing and connections, to the new armor it bore.
It all came from the mind of Nakamura, and if it flew half as well as it looked...
"Rodger, be aware Captain that you will have far more thrust at your disposal then any suit you are used to in this unit." He had noted the additional thrust modules installed, even on the version that was meant for Earth operations, it still bore the enhanced 12 thrust rigging that Nakamura had been promising all this time. "The active thrust system has been dramatically improved, not to mention that the fuel lines and housings have been also reworked. But do not forget that beyond all these trivial cosmetic changes that you have now near twice the amount of actual thrusters installed aboard the machine. The standardized five thrusters design on the backpack has been replaced with an updated scheme you will notice the difference. More then double the amount of engines and the thrust will double. Be cautious of that or the power may creep up on you." The former chief designer sounded off, seemingly mighty pleased with just how he had tweaked and adapted the machine to its new form.
Not that he could really blame the main as the mono camera flared an ominous dark red within the hangar deck and slowly but surely the interior of the cockpit was replaced by a almost transparent panoramic view of the exterior of the machine he couldn't help but smile. No longer would he have to make do with monitor feeds and active sensor readouts, the amount of camera mounts for the machine had likewise been increased and could now provide a nominal 360 degree angle of anything within the suit's front. While anything to his rear would have to be picked out by the secondaries it all the same was indeed a major step up, he couldn't deny that. Truly it had been a stroke of luck picking up Nakamura from AE, a man of his talents and history shouldn't be relegated to the design bureau of some soulless mega corp.
"Check is done, open the ventral hatch and prepare for my launch, we don't have time for the elevator." The quicker they were able to accomplish this needed step, the quicker they could depart and continue onward to next steps.
"Understood sir." The aged technical officer and designer responded as the bulky cargo hold shifted as its upward hatch revealed the upper decks even as his machine primed itself for launch. The power of 12 dedicated thrusters assigned along the suit's back, feet, leg and shoulder mounts were revving in preperation for its first earth-bound sortie.
'Die with pride Talyor.' He could die cursing him if he wished but all the same it would be done despite whatever protest was presented, it was simply how it had to be. The man was going to die anyway, that was the thought that rang within his mind, the justification, the excuse, the paltry shield held aloft to protect him from all the scorn and resentment that would undoubtedly be directed at him in the near future. It would have been so much easier, so much easier if he had just planted the device on the submarine, it could have been played off of as a reactor breach and detonation or perhaps an intentional act of sabotage to avoid capture by the Federation.
As it stood though, it would be difficult to deflect suspicion when it was obviously his machine that was firing the warhead in this scenario. All the same though this had to be done and the quicker it was over and done with the sooner they could depart. He had written the Degwin off the moment the efforts to destroy the majority of the base's forces had been neutralized, with their fighting strength still somewhat intact, any pursuit had to be forestalled as long as possible. They could not afford to have the next stage of the operation compromised, even if they had to turn their guns upon their fellows to ensure they had that time. If the Degwin was simply abandoned then it would be ransacked for answers, the crew would be gone over with a fine toothed comb and eventually, someone would break, it might take the Federation a while but it would happen.
It couldn't be allowed, the secrets of Olympus would be buried in the sea along with Talyor and the Degwin.
The bulky launcher fit easily within his mobile suit's manipulators.
As the telemetry data from the Journey was transmitted to his machine via laser burst he merely allowed the targeting solution to compensate for the the rather short distance he would be firing. This fell well within 'short range' for this particular weapon given that it had been designed along with its warhead for space operations yet none the less it would serve for this purpose.
His gloved hand gripped the targeting stick even as his finger drifted downward to the trigger.
'I will not give into regret.' He could allow himself to mourn the costs of his own inability to take into account the sheer alacrity in which the Federation could pursue on his own time, this was not that time though. He would do what needed to be done and accept the cost of that act later, as he always had. "Firing Spear-1" He repeated aboard the onboard both as a declaration of the act itself and as a warning to his own fellows aboard the tank to prepare for what was to come.
This wouldn't be pretty, but it was needed.
"Goodbye friend." He whispered through his helmet as his finger pushed downward upon the firing stud. The launcher spat flame and fire as it propelled its payload onward, his monitor tracking the missile as it sped through the air across the pitiful distance that lied between the suit and submarine. Not even fifty standard miles stood between one point to the other, this would be quick at the very least as the rocket sailed onward he pulled his helmet free of his head and cast it to the floor of his refurbished machine.
He was done listening to the broadcasts, he already knew what was coming.
From here he could observe what was to come, witness what he had unleashed and see the end of it.
...It was the least he could do, it was the least he owed them.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
RGM GM III
June 24th, 0091 UC
1400 Hours
The flash. That was all there was, it was so bright even at that distance that it caused his main camera to shut itself down momentarily to avoid damage. One moment he had been marching his suit along with what was left of his squadron towards the beach then a light brighter then any he had ever seen before had bloomed out there in the ocean. Everything had just gone to chaos then, rolling clouds of ash, sand and tidal waves had forced them back shortly after the first concussive boom had arrived, the heated pressure waves of air that had just expanded across the sea and rocked their multi-ton war machines as if they were children's toys.
Helicopters and scrambling fighters were blown off course as sudden gales forced them collide or strike the tarmac mere seconds after lifting off, radial controls and automated systems sorted out and sent the vehicles careening as they were forced to combat the maelstrom that assaulted the base mere seconds after detonation. The expanding fireball of the blast sent forth its destructive fury upon them all.
The comms went to shit near immediately after with even direct suit to suit laser burst cutting under the effects of radioactive material that had been spewed across the region, by the time his monitor had finally switched back over into an operational state the seas were still rolling, the skies were blackened and stained, ash rained downward from the heavens. Like fat droplets of tar the snow like soot descended upon them, he had never witnessed a detonation of this magnitude before. Not even during the war against the AEUG, it was far beyond even that of a mobile suit's reactor cooking off, no this was something completely different.
However he only had to glance back towards the blast zone to understand just what had occurred. The faint grayish trails of smoke that was carried by the wind could not hide the tale tell cloud formation. It was like a callback to the old AD era, all the pointless and bloody land wars that had been waged by mankind upon itself beyond they had expanded outward into space under the banner of the UC calendar and Colony Construction Plan.
The sickly pale scar upon the sky, the radiated plume of hot ash and dust. The mushroom cloud told them all what this was.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
Deep Ocean Transit Supply Ship: Valiant Journey, 142 Nautical Miles Offshore
June 24th, 0091 UC
1400 Hours
"Brace for impact, I repeat all hands brace for impact, secure all loose cargo and fasten mobile suits!" The frantic commands were issued mere seconds before the plume of light scorched the sky aboard the ship, the warning klaxons and intercom continued barking even after anyone ceased paying them heed. They had no time left to prepare further. The waves that crossed the ocean and battered the massive cargo ship swept over the deck, the seas around them shook the mighty vessel as if it was a child's floaty. Anti roll systems engaged in earnest as the ship's automated systems battled with the raging seas about them, water rose upward in wave after wave as it rocked and assaulted the vessel, the stern dipped below the water line briefly just for the massive ship to regain its balance and more rose upward cresting across the sea.
Container slipped from moorings and collapsed across the decks, deep down within the holds the collection of mobile suits shook within their racks, munitions, fuel and other commodities spilt across interior of the makeshift 'hangar'. Lighting flickered and bulbs burst, monitors burnt out their screens and radio transmitters screeched their wrath as the electrical disrupting effects of the blast swept over them. She knew that the ship's critical systems would be fine, they were hardened, had been hardened just in case of such a scenario, it had been a time consuming process for a mere probability but now that preparation would save them.
'The Captain may be no mystical seer or Newtype but his preparation is second to none when it comes to combat.' It had all been at his behest after all, all the steps and precautions take that would ensure their success. The simple fact they even had the warhead aboard in the first place was testament to that. Had he predicted the need for it or this was merely a stage of the operation she had not been informed of? It mattered not ultimately but she could not deny her curiosity was present.
The sudden storm abated just as quickly as it had come yet this was not the end of it, no this was merely the beginning she knew. Olympus had just begun.
Salt water stained the primary viewport of the bridge's command tower yet even through the haze of water they could still see the blast.
As the water stilled, as the fury of the ocean ceased all they were left with was that light, that transient fireball.
Yuuka steadied herself well enough after the blast wave had passed over the ship and the resulting waves had lent the worst of their fury against them, with nature spent she was left only with the sight of that column of ash and fire that carved upward across the sky itself. The spectrum of colors that danced across that sky like falling hunks of glass reflecting and refracting light made it all the more vibrant in the piercing afternoon sun.
The contrast of orange, red, black and brown made the day seem as if it was a painter's canvas, despite the destruction wrought and the tool employed.
"Its beautiful..." She remarked contently. The fading blanket of mist and falling water reflected in her earnest dark eyes. She knew what he had hit, what he had been aiming at, overkill for one submarine perhaps but it would also be a show of resolve, not just for the Federation but for all of Zeon as well. That they would stop at nothing to win, that they would all sacrifice and give up their lives for the completion of the mission. 'And we will...if it means making what he envisions reality, I will die.' She was content to play the pillar to support the foundation of the world he would bring about. She had lived a good life under his direction, through him she had finally found a purpose beyond base killings, finally found something more then being a mere avenger.
Finally became more then a soldier, more then some senseless petty killer. The Captain had a vision of the world, a dream of how things could and should be and that, that was enough for her. She had set aside her personal grudges, her personal baggage to serve. Her role had become that of his second, his commander, his soldier, his weapon, she was simply...his. Through that she was given something infinitely better then the perpetual juvenile rage that had ruled her since childhood, through him she had gained power, power beyond anything she could have dreamed of prior. But even beyond the power she had found something superior, something she was willing to fight fight, beyond even the vision provided by the Captain, beyond even what he sought to make real.
She had found something worthy of herself to pass on to the next generation. Yet to have that occur, they had to win, they had to succeed and for that she would give up anything and everything to ensure that came about.
Yes she would see this through, enforce upon the world the vision he sought to make reality and when his new world was born...yes that would be a good day indeed.
Yet for the present they had accomplished this stage of the operation, the Pacific fighting strength that the Federation boasted of in North America was shattered, not only that they had accomplished the secondary objective as well due to their 'recent arrival'. With the information she had brought they were one step closer to the completion of Olympus. One step closer to the destruction of the Federation. Yet the Federation, the vile people that sheltered and feasted beneath that cancerous banner were merely the beginning, destroying them would only allow what he sought.
Yes petty destruction was merely the interlude.
More then that though, what they would accomplish soon...
They were going to reclaim their future.
Amid the crackling of the comms and the chaos of the internal communications aboard the ship that filled the bridge with noise that drowned out even the moaning and complaining of the crew and soldiery aboard she heard the paper thin almost whisper like voice that came in over the static and noise.
"Returning to base, mission accomplished." The Captain would return to them and they would then depart to the next phase of the operation, the next phase of the war.
This was a victory today, yet it was merely the first, they would not stop here.
Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California
California Base, Defense Perimeter
RGM GM III
June 24th, 0091 UC
1400 Hours
As gusts of heated air and gales of wind bombarded the shoreline and kicked up mounds of dust, grit and sand that were cast aside as if by a typhoon by the pressure wave that had extended outward dozens of kilometers from the site of the actual detonation. His suit weathered the storm if only just, the truth was that despite his suit bracing against the incoming roll waves of air, debris and heat it was still being damaged by it. Sensors, radar mounts and other hardpoint equipment like the communication suite were not spared, even his main camera caught stray grit and sand that impacted it with the force bullets due to the speed of the expanding pressure wave.
Yet there was one thing that came through despite the rolling waves, the debris and wind. There amid the chaos of nature was out there in the ocean, dozens of kilometers outward was where a second sun had been briefly born. He had thought it was a reactor being detonated, a beam round had struck the wrong area and it had caused a explosion at first but no, this was no fusion reactor being breached, its remaining energies expended violently no...this was a nuke, a fission bomb. A nuclear warhead designed for the sole purpose of warfare.
As his suit detected faint traces of radioactive materials within the very air itself, it was just an after thought, a base and pointless confirmation. This was real, they had actually done it, no one had seriously thought that even the Zekes would stoop to something like this, this far out from the One Year War. Did their frothing at the mouth hatred at the Federation had no bounds? Did they despise the Federation this much?
This was no accident, this was no stroke of misfortune or conflicting orders amid the ranks of the enemy no. This had been done for a purpose, there had been a order given, an order issued for the usage of nuke to authorized. How had this happened? How had a ragtag group of leftover Zeons get their hands on a nuke? How many old Zeon fission bombs were left these days? This drifted back to the ghost stories at the close of the One Year War, he had heard about it through the grapevine when he was going through training. Some senior Titans had remarked that nuclear stores at Granada during its occupation by Zeon had vanished by the time Zeon abandoned the settlement after the war.
A cache of dozens if not hundreds of nuclear weapons just disappeared into the ether. Was this one of them? Were those Zeon in possession of more? O'Sullivan had joined with these people? Why would she betray them to join in hands with people who would detonate nuclear devices? Why would she join with Zekes so off the reservation they'd split the atom? Insanity...it was just insanity.
No matter what he had to say about the matter, no matter what he or anyone else would care to think, believe or hold stock in there was just one simple evident truth to be gleaned from this. One piece of information, one fact that could not be ignored or else they would all the pay the price for that arrogance, that disbelief. It was simply reality. To deny this was simple foolhardiness, the dissipating mushroom cloud, the place where thunder and air had cracked together and rent the sea itself were proof of this.
War had come to them all once again.
Yet beyond even that...was the sobering realization that it might have very well have been thanks to one of their own that the Zeon had even managed to pull this off. Just how far did Meryl O'Sullivan's treachery extend? Just how long had she been playing them all for fools?
AN: Well...Boom I suppose.
Heh I hope you enjoyed this second chapter in The Sword of Zeon and will continue to enjoy the story as we go through this journey I have penned out together. So far what little feedback I have gotten on this story has been positive and that is definitely a plus I am glad that a few are enjoying this story even if it is relatively ignored on the site itself.
With little more to add let close off here and do my usual request for favorites, follows and reviews. (Very short AN's for this chapter)
I hope to see you all again for the next chapter and until then have a pleasant day.
Till next time
-Reborn Akatsuki