Archangel's Amazing Adventures

by CSS Stravag

Mass Crossover fic. Chapter 51 UP! Powerful magic draws the Archangel and the ZAFT Creuset Team into a world of magic and intrigue like nothing imagined by the straight-laced CE residents. Their battles on Cephiro are only the beginning of their nightmarish journey as they give Odysseus a run for his money in the 'bizarre trip home' category...

36. Shipping Interdiction

(Archangel's Amazing Adventures, Chapter 36: Shipping Interdiction)

(20 November AC195, 0600 hours)
(Romefeller Headquarters, Paris, France)

"This is Channel 9 News, with the hot story of the week, probably of the year: Romefeller forces engaged in fighting in the rebellious Sanc Kingdom territory have been confirmed to be defeated soundly by the Invading Mercenary Hordes. Though personnel losses were minimal due to heavy utilization of the new Mobile Doll system — "

-click-

"The attack centered here, on the western border of the nation," Captain Morgan Chevalier told the pundits on the channel broadcast. He was demonstrating the action against a map of the Kingdom. "We struck against the attack here, and used special assets against the northern fork here, allowing us to stop this entire brigade section with seven units total and a goodly helping of support from the Archangel itself — "

-click-

"Viscount Jacob Kessler is confirmed dead, though details of his demise are sketchy. Romefeller forces report he was gunned down in a savage display of barbarism by the Archangel Team, though the officers involved from the Archangel Team report he shot himself to prevent capture. His body has been turned over to an independent medical team for final — "

-click-

"You can clean your home in a quickie if you use a Schticky — "

-click-

"And we call upon Duke Dermail to stand down his position to prevent further loss of life and property in the European mainland area," the replay of Relena's speech from last night echoed again on the news.

-click-

The infographic of the ship changed from the clear hull shot to a wireframe model. "The major weapon systems on the Archangel consist of two paired naval beam cannons, two naval rail guns, two antimatter siege cannons used for destruction of large targets, and 32 multipurpose missile launchers capable of deploying any missile system up to 5 tons per missile — "

-click-

"The question now becomes, what is the Sanc Kingdom's next move? Now that they have a powerful ally in Treize Khushrenada, they have defensive options and with their existing alliance to the Archangel Team, they have offensive options that Duke Dermail could only dream of — "

-click-

"With the ongoing issues in the colonies, the fate of the Romefeller Mobile Doll program is in jeopardy if they cannot acquire enough Gundanium alloy to armor their machines. Without the unmanned mobile weapons, many analysts believe that the war will have a quick and conclusive end should the Sanc Kingdom or the Archangel Team move against Paris. In other news — "

-click-

"You're gonna spend twenty dollars every month on paper towels anyway, you're throwin' away your money —"

-click-

"We are inside the cavernous Hangar deck of the Archangel, with Mechanic Commander Kojiro Murdoch. Petty Officer, what is your opinion of the Romefeller forces, and your estimation of the coming battles?"

"Well, on the Romefeller forces, they're wussies. They hide behind their Mobile Dolls, they can't engage in anti-ship warfare and they can't respond to pressure. They're not going to hold up to our coming operations when the Captain lets loose the leash, follow?"

-click-

The room went silent for several seconds after Duke Dermail finally shut the television off. "Five hundred channels, and roughly a third of them are saying I got my ass kicked. I have not yet begun to fight!" he raged at the blank screen across the room.

-x-x-x-

(20 November AC195, 0700 hours)
(Archangel, Hangar Deck, parked at Sanc Kingdom Spaceport)

"Gomer! Front and center!" Murdoch shouted across the bay in the general direction he thought his 2-I-C was in.

"Right here, sir," said mechanic declared from directly behind Murdoch. The answer caused the chief mechanic to jolt slightly, but he did not turn on the subordinate.

"Get two of the Maganac in repair cubes. We'll cycle them through as fast as possible. No paint jobs, they can worry about that on their own time," Murdoch ordered. "Use cubes thirteen and fourteen, since we don't have any Omnimechs in those right now." In point of fact, the Stone Rhino and Timber Wolf were out and about patrolling around the starport perimeter to prevent a sneak attack from Romefeller while the ship underwent repair and refit cycles.

"Sir, some of these machines can't stand. Who do we call to prop them up until they have a leg to stand on?" Gomer's aide-de-camp asked.

"I dunno, whoever's in the crew lounge, find someone," Murdoch said. "Get it moving! We need to be ready to deploy in 24 hours, tops!"

"Whips and chains, sir!" Gomer answered with a salute and was immediately on the move.

Across the world, millions of live-report viewers paused their DVR boxes and rewound the footage to verify Gomer had indeed answered his CO in that fashion. Still others who heard it right the first time found themselves laughing at the mechanic's odd sense of humor.

"Attention hangar personnel, be advised we are moving 60mm cannon ammunition at this time from explosive stores to cubicles 3, 4 and 6. All personnel are to use caution in the area of explosive handlers," the speakers announced.

"Oi! Will the wanker from Bay 9 please return all tools lifted from the blue cart outside bay 10 at first possible? Some of us have work to do!" Someone else shouted over the hangar intercoms. Again, millions around the world found his accent and his complaint funny.

The camera team swept across the bay, looking around at the various machines and the multitude of personnel servicing them. It was certainly not a small effort to keep the Mobile Suits, Gundams, Battlemechs, and Fighters in operational condition, and a world got a rare look at the inner workings of a warship's hangar area.

"HEY!" Murdoch shouted. "Slow that number three crane down! Those damn things are expensive!"

"I'm doin' it! I'm doin' it!" One of the team leads shouted. "Slow down on crane three! Boss is getting antsy!"

"This is Gomer to all bay personnel: the phrase 'holy shit' is not to be used as an official safety phrase. It may be used as necessary when fleeing imminent danger. That is all."

"Damn good thought," Murdoch said. All too many of his teams had taken to using 'holy shit' as a general declaration of trouble, officially or not, which tended to complicate matters.

"Murdoch, what are your men doing right now to the Duel? I heard it did not see combat," the reporter in the bay asked. She was wearing a hard-hat (as were her sound and camera crew personnel) and safety vest as per Archangel maintenance crew policies.

"Right now, the Duel does not need any extra repairs, so we are flushing reactor coolant and reloading its weapon sets. It may not have been involved directly, but it did fire on enemy Suits multiple times." Murdoch shifted looking angles, and grunted at what he saw. "Tony, you cannibalize any more parts of that GuAIZ and I'll whoop your ass raw for it! That's supposed to be the Commander's new unit!"

"How much ammo will the Duel Gundam carry at a full load?" the Reporter asked.

"Oh, 9 missiles, 1 RPG, fifty rounds of railgun, 40 missiles from the shoulder-carried Aries Missile Pack, and about a hundred EM rifle rounds in its static magazine. Not limited to ammo is the beam rifle and beam sabers it carries," Murdoch replied evenly.

"We've heard reports that the Planet Defenser systems on a Mobile Doll make it impossible to destroy. Care to elaborate?"

"Not hardly," Murdoch said with a growl to voice. "Planet Defensers will stop beam weapons, but they're useless against ballistic weapons. Most of the Duel's arsenal is ballistic, and every unit we have carries ballistic or missile weapons. And, if we really wanted to, the beam cannons on the ship could blow through several sets of planet defensers. We have options, no matter how many Mobile Dolls they throw at us."

"Huh," the reporter found herself left with nowhere to go once Murdoch stated he was less than worried about the evolving threats from Romefeller. "If I may, erm," she began, but faltered.

"Jules! I want the Vayeate full-up and ready to go within the hour or I want to know why!" Murdoch shouted into the distance.

"Almost done, sir!" Someone else shouted back.

"Honey, as much noise as you're making, you keep hanging around and I'll put you and your crew to work," Murdoch told the reporter that was dogging him.

"Oh, okay, one more question?" Murdoch nodded even as he turned back toward the Mercurius maintenance detail. "Why are you doing this?"

Murdoch chuckled grimly. "Why? Simple. Romefeller shot first, Romefeller tried putting us six leagues under the waves, Romefeller even fooled the Sanc Kingdom into jumping us. Someone gets to bleed for this chain of attempted murders, and I'm pretty sure I know who is responsible for it all, so there's my target. You'll get similar answers from anyone else in the unit, so..."

"Wow," the reporter gaped, completely in the dark on that matter. She figured the mercenaries really did not have any reason to lie, given their story of wanting to leave on their interdimensional journey, so they weren't in the running for anything other than just this contract. That made everything that Romefeller was saying about the Archangel Team less than accurate.

"All right, clear this area, honey. I have gear that needs to be where you're standing, unless you want to help around the shop?"

"All right, this is Action Six news, signing off before we get run over," she said to the camera as a cargo exoframe began trudging into view with several stacked crates.

-x-x-x-

(20 November AC195, 1000 hours)
(Sanc Kingdom Administration Building, Primary Conference Room)

"Please be seated, Captain," Relena said to the Captain. Technically she was Queen of the realm, so the Captain stood at her pleasure as was proper etiquette.

"Thank you," Murrue said.

"Colonel Khushrenada, the Sanc Kingdom extends you our thanks for assisting in the defense of the realm. Please, if you wish to join us?" She gestured to another seat.

"A pleasure, milady Peacecraft," Treize answered.

"So, let us begin," Relena prompted. "With roughly three decades of military strategy experience in this room, I am confident we can bring an end to this omni-destructive war in short order. I am not confident, however, that the pundits on the major broadcast networks have it correct. Is that a reasonable assumption?"

"It is accurate, milady," Treize answered smoothly. "The destruction of three brigades of combat power, though very significant, is not enough to break the back of the Romefeller foundation. These are men who buy armies on their pocket change; the dozen victories as we have won here in the past week would not completely reduce their numbers."

"Control is the name of the game, Queen Relena," Mu La Flaga said in the short silence thereafter. "I have seen it more than once in my career, and on more than one planet. Break the controlling party, you break the apparatus below it."

"And that is the difficult part," Zechs Merquise noted coldly. "These men are entrenched. Not only will it be a challenge to get to them, eliminating them or forcing a surrender will not be easy. They have a sizable portion of the planet under their thumb, and each will have personal retreat plans to be enacted at first necessity. We could spend decades chasing them down."

The comment went to the last in the room to speak. "Breaking their army will be a lot tougher than breaking their morale or leadership. To force a surrender, though, we will need to do all three, and we will need to get a little dirty to make it work right."

"What are you intending?" Relena asked fairly.

"The first thing we need to do is break their supply line of replacement Mobile Dolls. That will involve a raiding strike on the Moon, which we can do easily and quickly after we gear up and reload for it."

"While you are in space, it might also be prudent to decommission Space Fortress Barge, to prevent the Oz Space Force from holding the colonies for ransom while we smash their command structure," Zechs considered.

"Far easier said than done, but a prudent move," Treize acknowledged. "Planetside, the first thing we need to do is consolidate defenses here in the Sanc Kingdom, and rally anyone possible to the banner."

"Could we use the Maganac Troops as primary defenses for the Kingdom, while the Archangel deals with the space-borne threats?" Relena asked, instantly belying her inexperience on the subject.

"Not enough defensive depth milady," Zechs answered.

"For now, my troops will hold primarily in the western forests to prevent another en-masse assault on the Kingdom," Treize decided. "The Maganac forces can handle the eastern areas, given there should be little threat and only small incursions if any. The Archangel is the rapier of the force, comparative to the main gauche (1) duty my forces serve."

"I am good with that," Murrue said plainly. "We have a track record of tearing up Romefeller forces, and right now the only major worry is a desperation attack."

"It will not be easy. Romefeller will do their utmost to defend the existing assets on the moon and Space Fortress Barge. You will have to fight hard for those victories," Zechs said.

"Still, it takes those chips out of the hands of Romefeller, so it is worth the shot," Mu countered. "And the loss of an asset like Barge would hit everyone on their side — and prove that we can win against their hardest assets."

"Concur," Treize answered simply. "It is highly unlikely to force a surrender, but the detriment to their morale will be worth the cost in the long run. On the ground, we need to consider moves against important assets for the coming campaign, once the Archangel has returned from space and refit for ground battle."

"The first thing we want to do is force the issue here in the Baltic," Mu opined. "If we cut down their naval power, the threat to the Sanc Kingdom is minimal at best."

"If we render victory for them impossible, we can move against their mainland Europe bases at leisure," Murrue considered. "We have already smashed more than a few on our general rampaging, but hitting a few more might start causing desertions or surrenders."

"As an opening position, I suggest something else in the way of a grandstand operation," Treize said. "Moscow, Russia, though in the opposite direction that we intend to move, may hold strategic value above and beyond its apparent significance. If we hit Moscow and take it, liberate the city in full view of the world press and make it clear that is what we are doing, we can shift opinion. We then begin taking other major Russian cities, moving slowly westward and holding more land. As more people are freed up we gain more of an army to shore up possessions. Conscripts, mostly, and they will have to be leavened with seasoned fighters or military personnel, but the principle holds. Mostly, it embarasses the leadership of the Romefeller Foundation to see their territory liberated by mercenaries and 'traitors', which will echo in the press and in the hearts of their remaining troops."

Relena considered their suggestion, and decided that it would be preferable to liberate territory as opposed to simply forcing the issue with Romefeller. The time frame required would likely be longer, but it would also take pressure off the Sanc Kingdom across the board.

"Captain, what is your opinion on the matter?" Relena asked fairly.

"It won't be a fast operation, milady," Murrue answered. "On the other hand, it takes a lot of load off the tip of the spear and forces Romefeller to handle hundreds of threats, not just a few. Once we liberate a few states and show the world it can be done, the rebellions will start up globally."

"It will also be the deadliest course, at least for Romefeller. If guerillas were to capture Duke Dermail or his subordinates, don't expect leniency for the prisoners," Zechs noted fairly.

"Don't expect trial by jury, either," Mu judged with an ironic voice. "If we get to them first, after the rebellion is in full swing, we can offer them a clean way out — with the alternative being the very unhappy civilians heavily armed with pitchforks and torches and ropes of varying length."

"Like I said, it will be a dirty end, but if it comes to that then the dirt is not really on us so much as it is on Romefeller," Murrue commented.

"The old-world aristocracy has enough dirt already," Treize said in a soured fashion. "I don't intend to abolish that, or to allow it abolished by others, but I do intend to clean house."

"I expected as much," Relena said. "Name your conditions, Colonel."

"I have no conditions...yet," Treize answered calmly. "When I have a better idea what is required to prevent this problem recurring, I may have some at that time."

Murrue wisely said nothing, knowing that this could be a serious bump in the road to achieving their objectives, but some nagging part of her senses figured it would work out well.

-x-x-x-

(20 November AC195, 2030 hours)
(Warship Archangel, Hot Springs Area)

"This is the Hot Springs area, Colonel Treize, and to the left we have one of our Holovideo Break Rooms for off-duty crew. The room we use for official purposes is up toward the command area and stateroom." One enterprising mechanic had put up a marquee sign that Kira had tied into the system so it automatically updated with the name of the presently playing show. In this case, the Engine Mechanics were doing a horror-film fest with the Evil Dead series. Of course, with how much they were laughing at said film, Commander La Flaga figured the moves less horror and more bloody comedy.

"Interesting," the Colonel noted. "Officially, what can you do with these Holo systems?"

"Well, we use them to replay battle footage to analyze foes and tactics used, and mostly for reviewing training sessions to sharpen our teams up."

"Ah, nothing of the poisonous 'correctness' doctrines that strike armies from time to time," Treize noted as the two officers entered the men's side of the hot springs.

"No, I had to deal with that a few times in my Earth Alliance days, but nothing on this ship. We are definitely not in the 'corrected' category of anyone's army, unless you know of any dystopic piecemeal mercenary units around here?"

"No, no such units in the Earth Sphere. There are some assorted colonies out in the Asteroid Belt, so potentially there, but none that I have dealt with short of this team," Treize noted as he began preparing himself for a relaxing run through the hot springs. "I still find it amazing that such a facility would exist on a warship."

"It's become one of the unofficial gathering points for the crew after duty shifts," Mu said.

Treize turned toward the door, but was stopped by a placard put on the wall by the hangar mechanics. It listed three rules: 1) Rank is invalid, except when judging harassing remarks; all such conduct will be graded by an uninvolved Mechanic and curved for rank as appropriate. 2) No porno flicks in the springs. Bay 34 exists for that purpose. 3) Immortal Warrior, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Chuck Norris, Clint Eastwood, and Sylvester Stallone movies will not be interrupted except for combat purposes.

"Yeah, those rules," Mu noted, looking over them himself. "Those rules are serious. As is the header above the door," Mu pointed to it.

" 'Abandon sanity, all ye who enter,' " Treize read off the plaque above the door. "That is, well, quite the declaration."

"Some days, it is the truth." Mu said before he brushed the steel bead curtain aside and entered. Treize was not far behind.

"Hail to the under-boss!" one of the Weapons Mechanics said as Treize entered the sauna area.

"We have everything repaired?" Mu asked as he moved around the sauna platform and dropped into the water. Treize went the opposite direction and took the dive next to Murdoch.

"Only thing we're waiting for is ammo from a couple allies that have munitions plants. Eighteen hours and we're good to go," Murdoch answered.

"We've mixed offense and defense this whole campaign. I'm looking forward to taking the fight to their turf, see how they like it," Yzak grumped.

"Yarr!" One of the Structures Technicians shouted.

"They'll be getting it shortly," Mu said. "Captain's looking forward to hammering their supply chain flat in space. Reduces the amount of machines they can field in the long run, which makes things easier for us all."

"Less is better, especially in this case," Tolle said heartily. "So not going to feel sorry about their toy factory being smashed."

"Oi, pilot, you got any plans for your wedding yet?" a hangar mechanic asked.

"I...no, not really, no," Tolle answered after a few seconds. "I'm not really going to worry about it until after Romefeller is done."

"That's cool. At least you know it's on the horizon. Hell, when we take Paris, we'll find a good old cathedral to do your wedding in," Murdoch declared.

"When that time comes, there may be a bidding war to see who does your wedding," Treize said as he leaned back to stretch out under the sauna water. "How do you guys heat this? It is excellent," he asked Murdoch.

"Well, we have a regulated heat exchanger coming off the thermonuclear engine system, and the rocks under you are from the planet Dustball, picked up from the first battlefield we fought on in the Inner Sphere. In fact, the rock under Tolle was pulled out from under a deceased Hellbringer omnimech."

"Oh, didn't know that. Who did that 'mech?" said pilot asked.

"I think Yzak did, I'd have to check the records," Murdoch guessed.

"A marvelous setup. I will need to appropriate the schematics from your engineering department for my personal estate," the Colonel noted.

"Hey, nothing special to it. I think I can gin something up," Mu La Flaga commented.

"I've got it," Murdoch said. He reached up to the control panel on the wall and pressed a call button.

"This is the attendant," Terra answered.

"Terra, Murdoch. Can you call the engineering department and have them secure a blueprint of the Hot Springs area only for Colonel Treize?"

"Can do, sir," Terra answered glibly. "Anything else?"

"Nope, we're good here. Thank you," and he killed the attendant call. "My boys'll have it ready in less than an hour," Murdoch replied.

"Much obliged, Mister Murdoch."

"So, what do we watch tonight?" an otherwise-silent Engine Mechanic asked.

"Eh, throw on an episode of Immortal Warrior. Something in the Season Twelve territory," Mu La Flaga decided on a whim. "You'll laugh at how over-the-top this is," he said to Treize.

"To relax and cut loose from time to time is always a good thing," Treize said in a fashion that everyone in the room was sure he was trying to bolster his own opinion on the matter.

He did cut loose and relax, even succumbing to a bit of whimsy pertaining to Immortal Warrior. The Steiner Television Network found a new fan in a completely separate dimension, even if he would never see their shows in the theater as was common on Tharkad.

-x-x-x-

(20 November AC195, 2355 hours)
(Lunar Base, Mobile Doll Production Facility 3)

The door to the security facility opened as it always did at this time of day. "Damn, shift change already, Louie?" the duty guard asked.

"Yeah, it's that time again," Louie answered in his usual bored fashion. "Anything to pass down?"

"Not a bloody thing. Am I relieved?"

Louie put the suppressed pistol he was holding against the duty watch officer's right brachial plexus, aimed down toward his heart, and fired twice. Both bullets transited his lungs, windpipe, and heart, effectively killing him instantly. "You are relieved."

The White Fang operative rolled the chair with the Oz scumbag out of the way and brought up a new chair. "Eagle, this is Thrush. What is your status?" his handheld radio requested, which was set to a channel different from the normal guard frequencies on this base.

"Eagle is in the nest, I have good eyes and secure eggs. Begin the hatching."

"Thrush copies your traffic. Disable the alarms for this sector."

-x-

"Two pair, home boys," the Sergeant at the card table said. "Read 'em and weep, suckers."

"Eh, to hell with you guys, I'm tired of getting my ass mulched," the fat corporal in the guard team groused as he turned away from the table.

"Sore loser," the Sergeant declared. "Who's up for another round?"

As the Corporal walked away from the table, he noticed a small black object rolling into the room from the doorway, something that looked like nothing so much as a hockey puck. "Huh? What the hell is this?" he asked nobody in particular.

"What is what?" the Sergeant asked. He looked over toward the Corporal, just in time for the little device to work its magic.

Inside the small black puck, a bursting charge set off several grams of powdered magnesium. Essentially a miniature Flashbang distraction grenade, the concussive blast and light joined a similar device at the opposite end of the guard barracks in stunning the entire platoon of security personnel. By the time the echoes of the blasts faded, the four-man commando team was already inside the barracks.

Suppressed submachine guns cut down the four card players, two men reading books, four in the showers, and a couple dozen men that were asleep or that had been startled awake by the blasts. None of them had a weapon, none of them had a chance to resist. All in all a successful surprise attack for White Fang Special Forces.

-x-

"This is line control, Central, where the hell is my relief? He's five minutes overdue," the production Lieutenant asked.

"Relief is on the way, Line Control. Stand by," the Controller answered. Of course, the guy on the far end of the line knew otherwise...

"Damn well better be," he griped as he slammed the phone down. "Yvette, what the hell kept — " He stopped dead when he came face to face with a pair of assault rifles. "What the hell?"

"Turn around, hands on your head," Yvette ordered.

"What is going on here?" he asked in his native Boston accent, but complied with her orders.

"Down to your knees and cross your ankles," Yvette further ordered of the Production Lieutenant.

"No way," he answered. "Knock this shit off, girl."

"Do it now or I dump half a mag into your sorry ass," she retorted sharply. "Down to your knees and cross your ankles."

"This is insubordination and assaulting an officer, girl! Your career is over!" Still, he complied.

Behind him, Yvette released her rifle to hang on the three-point sling. "This is for forcing me to bed to get a promotion, asshole." An old Ka-Bar combat knife came out of sheath and went into the back of his neck just above the C1 vertebrae and below the base of the skull. Her strike was true and efficient, effectively disconnecting his brain from the rest of his body. The Production Lieutenant was clinically dead before his body finished collapsing to the floor.

"He won't be raping anyone else for job perks," the other White Fang infiltrator took a moment to spit on the decreased. "And damn good riddance to him, I say."

-x-

"How long do you think it will take to get this gantry moving again?" The area foreman asked the technician under the gantry.

"Twenty minutes, give or take," the technician responded in a bored fashion. "Damn thing just froze up, like it does every other Tuesday."

"Okay, so long as we can get parts moving again."

For the technician, just as he was beginning to disassemble the gear shaft that drove the parts gantry back and forth, his world changed in an instant. A burst of automatic gunfire tore through the assembly bay, and the first casualty the mechanic saw was the area foreman as he fell to the ground next to the gantry. The young mechanic froze as he stared into the lifeless eyes of the foreman, even as more gunfire ripped up and down the assembly bay.

"White Fang mobilize!" Someone shouted above the gantry.

"White Fang! Take this bay!"

"We are White Fang! Oz troops, surrender or die!" A lady shouted from somewhere across the bay area.

"Come on out of there, kid," someone ordered before the bolt of a submachine gun was dropped, presumably on a ready cartridge.

The mechanic came out with both hands open and stood up immediately in surrender pose. "Just a civilian contractor," a rough-looking guy commented. "Kid, head for the shuttle bay. Comply and you will not be harmed."

"Yessir," the technician answered before he began moving in that direction.

-x-

"What is happening here?" Colonel Tubarov asked nobody in particular. "Why isn't security responding?"

"That's because they answer to me now," one of the 'technicians' in the room answered. When Tubarov looked to the guy, he had a pistol to his face. "Two fingers, asshole."

"Sedichi, I should have known you'd be loyal to the colonies before Oz," Tubarov said as he pulled his pistol in the requested fashion and handed it to one of the other men in the room. All were wearing the same armband, which meant all of them were in on this.

"Damn straight I would. What did you expect after Oz killed Heero Yuy? We'd just sit up here with our thumbs up our asses while your boys skull-fuck us for resources and manpower?"

"A man is supposed to know when he is defeated," Tubarov said.

"Oh yes, and I hope you know this is your day for it, Colonel. I wonder if they'll give you a posthumous Purple Heart for it." Sedichi looked to the other men in the room. "You're on, boys."

"With pleasure, Colonel Sedichi," the largest among them said before he brandished a crowbar. "Leave the head intact. Deal with the rest."

"Had to take all the fun out of it, didn't you?" another of the base operators said, even though he gut-checked Tubarov with his own crowbar.

Sedichi did not look away for the several minutes the affair dragged on. To him, this was a direct rendition of justice for all the colony citizens killed by Oz.

-x-

"This is Quinze. All subsections of the Mobile Doll Production Plant have been captured. All forces are to stand by for possible Oz counterattack. Communications, send our manifesto."

"Aye, sir," the commo officer said. "Communications Room, begin the broadcast."

-x-

(Warship Archangel)

Kuzzey yawned mightily, though he stopped halfway through when his headset chirped to signal an incoming radio call. After he dialed in the frequency and stepping of the transmitting party, he depressed the talk control. "Attention on this net, this channel is reserved for military units only. Clear the channel or contact us on the GUARD frequency," he said after the information panel declared the speaker as a civilian transmitter type.

"Archangel, this is White Fang Resistance Group. You haven't heard of us, but we've been watching you. Is your duty officer available?"

"Stand by," Kuzzey answered. "Captain, hot one for you. White Fang Resistance Forces."

"Put them on speaker," Murrue ordered.

"White Fang, Archangel, the Captain is listening. Send your traffic," Kuzzey ordered.

"Captain Ramius, I am Quinze, leader of the White Fang Revolutionary Forces. We are working now to liberate the colonies, and we have just completed the takeover of the Oz Forces Lunar Base and Mobile Doll manufacturing facilities. Are you willing to negotiate?"

Murrue blinked, surprised that anyone would have the chutzpah to accomplish that much in secret without serious military aid. "I am willing to talk. We will be in space in the next couple of days for unrelated operations. Will you agree to a meeting on neutral ground at that time?" Murrue asked.

"I agree to your terms. We will contact you with further details in time to come. For now, we will be airing our manifesto to the world in the next couple of hours."

"I will be watching. Archangel is out." Kuzzey killed the connection.

"Okay, if that was for real, our job just became a whole helluva lot easier by default," Newman noted.

"IF it is for real, Lieutenant," Murrue acknowledged the possibility that they were being shined on. "On the other hand, I like the idea of the colonies getting pissed off and taking over the Oz facilities on their own."

"It is their land, after all. They might as well reclaim it for themselves," Kuzzey opined.

-x-x-x-

(21 November AC195, 1000 Hours)
(Archangel Physical Training Room)

"Attention all personnel, the Archangel is now departing the atmosphere. We are now switching over to space operations and gravity augmenters. Please report any malfunctioning equipment to maintenance immediately."

"We're good?" Hikaru asked the four she was training at this time. Umi had six under her training set, including Yzak, and Fuu had five including Miriallia and Nicol.

"No problems, Sensei," an off-duty Engine Mechanic said. He was in primarily to train with knives, as everyone in the engine room was already considered reasonably competent with pistols.

Of course, if anyone put an actual, official name to her class, it would be 'Magic Knight CQB 101' since everyone learned how to integrate the three prevalent principles of combat on the ship: magic, blade, and firearm. Naturally, the Magic Knights were the most lethal in such arts, but the students from Vector were not far behind in the affair.

"Now, we resume our skirmishing," Hikaru ordered. "One, begin," she ordered of the first pair.

The engine mechanic preferred his knives for close-in work, relying on defending with his left and attacking with his right — or, in some case, he would trade the knife for a pistol and use SOC-P combat techniques. His foe for this match was a former Imperial Magitek Knight — better trained in sword combat than the average, but not to the level of the Magic Knights.

The two soldiers clashed with wooden knives and wooden sword, and much as Hikaru expected, the first error went to the Imperial. His strike was effective but blocked; the mechanic anticipated the attack, and as the Imperial attempted to reset for a second strike the Archangel veteran pressed the advantage. The speed of two knives against a far larger sword was manifest; even few magic weapons were as fast as a good knife in the right hands, and the mechanic proved it. Because the Imperial did not reset his defense properly, the Mechanic was able to get inside his swing arc and butcher him neatly with several strokes of both knives, ending with a coup de grace strike against the sides of his head.

"Victor, mechanic," Hikaru declared. Both stood to attention and bowed. "Reginald, what was your mistake?" she asked fairly.

"I attempted to press an offense, Sensei," the Imperial answered.

"Why did it not work?" Hikaru continued the lesson.

"The enemy was too fast," he answered simply.

"That is only part of the answer," Hikaru acknowledged. "If your first strike had unbalanced him or forced him into a guard position, you could have continued and won the battle on pure offense. When he failed to respond the first time, you should have dropped back to defense and held him at length. Understood?"

"Yes, Sensei," the chastised Imperial answered. He knew he was too aggressive and this was the end result, all the result of his monomaniacal confidence due to his years riding the Empire's Magitek armor. For him, part of the class was trying to reduce that aggression and balance his conduct.

"Mechanic advances to final skirmish. Second match — "

"Attention all personnel, this is the Captain speaking," Murrue said over the intercom. "We are ten hours from intercepting Barge. All pilots are to rotate through crew rest periods within the next six hours and be ready for combat within eight hours. Expected enemy engagement profile will be Space Fortress and Mobile Suit."

"Hrm," Hikaru mumbled, then sighed. "Duty calls. Magic Knight class dismissed. We reconvene tomorrow, same time, provided we're not on battle alert."

"Hai, Sensei," all four of her trainees answered.

Hikaru bowed to the students as would be proper, and turned to leave the physical training room. For her, 'crew rest' meant a good shower and some time in bed, especially after a workout as she was now getting by doing training. She knew Kira preferred time in the hot springs for rest, though Athrun was more along the lines of 'tinker with random objects' kind of thing. Yzak worked hard to keep his machine in top shape and build add-on weapons for it; Hikaru had found out that it was due to limitations of the Duel in battles past, where Kira had defeated him. Nicol could be found in the pilot's lounge at his piano, and lately so could Fuu be found there as well. Neither would admit, but it was fairly obvious to anyone who watched that they were headed for a date...sooner or later, Hikaru figured. Neither of the two were famous for aggression, which Hikaru figured at least partially required for dating.

Her internal musings led over to the shower room, where she always seemed to gravitate after work of one fashion or another. Inside, she expected to be alone, but was somewhat surprised to find Captain Ramius already inside and stripping down for her run through the shower. "I thought you were on the conn, Captain?" Hikaru asked as she moved to her personal storage space.

"Mu took over for me," Murrue answered. "Isn't this the time for your daily training?"

"I cut it short. If I'm supposed to be ready for battle in eight, I don't have an extra hour in there," Hikaru didn't pay much attention to Murrue as she gathered her stuff for her shower; in a BDU clothing set (2), there wasn't much to strip down, and she always trained in BDUs since that was standard issue clothing and what was mostly likely to be on her if she had to go into CQB.

"Right, well, I'm in pretty much the same boat," Murrue noted. "I want a good six hours and a decent meal before we take it to Barge."

I wasn't being accusatory or anything, wonder what's up with the Captain, Hikaru thought but did not say. "Any idea what the cooks are offering for the meal before the main event?" Hikaru said while pulling her combat boots off. She had a custom set made for her, with lighter soles and a reinforced upper — she tended to make a lot of wild movements, and needed the support.

Once stripped down, Hikaru was the third person into the showers — at a guess by the clothing, Terra was already taking a shower before either Captain or Magic Knight entered the room. "Okay, Captain, what are we looking at for the battle at Barge?"

"Probably around 200 Mobile Doll Taurus units and Barge itself. Oz did not deploy any of the Virgo machines to Barge, they were all sent planetside for the war down below. A little bit of an oversight, given we want Oz and all their heavy equipment off the table."

"And that means we'll have to swing by and render disabled Libra as well, right?" Hikaru asked.

"Yes, we will take a day or two breather between Barge and Libra, though. No sense trying to do both in one day, though the shock value of that would be immense." If anything Hikaru could have thought that Murrue sounded like she enjoyed the thought of shock value — something a bit unusual for even a mustang Captain such as she. Still, Hikaru passed it off to the circumstances of having to fight Oz in the first place. "The Mobile Forces will be primarily screening and intercept — on targets that big, the best weapon we have is the Archangel."

"And the best weapon the Archangel has for that job is the Positron Cannons," Hikaru completed the thought. "Though, with such powerful guns, will there be survivors?"

"I only intend to disable primaries and cause crippling structural damage. I'm not out to kill them all," Murrue answered calmly. "We'll worry about particulars in pilot briefing before showtime. Rest up, tonight we really make the 10 o'clock news."

-x-x-x-

(21 November AC195, 1500 Hours)
(In orbit around Luna, nearby the Space Battleship Libra)

Quinze knew the affair on Libra would be far more difficult than the Lunar Base — the first attack had surprise as its asset, the second attack would not. A commensurate enemy does not make the same mistake twice, and White Fang had reminded OZ that there were still guerilla enemies out in space, very threatening ones.

Thankfully, the local weapons grid circuits had been cut on the Northern Arm of Libra, so there was an easy ingress point for reinforcements coming from Luna. Quinze happened to be part of those reinforcements — Sedichi had requested extra manpower and command staff to help secure the ship and clear out the rest of the Oz resistance, no simple task on a ship with crew requirements numbering in the thousands. Even more welcome a reality was the presence of defectors among the crew.

"General Quinze, we have situations in the south and east arms of Libra. Glad you are here," the lieutenant in charge of the area and landing bay said.

"Talk to me, Lt. Ward."

"We have two battalions of troops in the South arm, one battalion in the East arm. Most of the resistance is coming from mechanical personnel and a few holdout security guards. Only problem is, they have entrenched themselves and are using antitank weapons to prevent us from getting close. What are your orders, general?"

"We have grenade launchers and anti-tank rockets on the shuttles. Organize the men into 8-9 man teams and deploy them as siege-breaking teams. Back each team up with no less than a platoon of rifle infantry, and begin reducing or eliminating the enemy fortifications. do we have the command bunker secured yet?"

"Aye aye sir, command bunker and shift bridge are in our control. We are reducing the final defenses around the combat information center at this time."

Quinze nodded thoughtfully, expecting things to have gone a little more smoothly during the assault phase. Still in all, combat was combat and there would always be little unexpected problems to be dealt with. After all, that is the job of a professional combat officer, and he had learned his duties as a subofficer of the Barton Foundation. Dekim Barton was very likely still lurking in the shadows, though for today Quinze would do things his way as opposed to the omnicidal way.

As Quinze left the landing bay, the Lieutenant began organizing the incoming troops and issuing heavy weapons as needed. Grenade launchers were particularly effective in spaceborne battles, as the fragments would slow down eventually (air resistance) but were not subject to gravity. Antitank rockets were also a bit easier to use — with no gravity to drag the rocket down, when you pulled the trigger what you saw is what you got. This duality of weapons handling factoids meant that anyone with bigger guns than average had an extensive advantage in space, and Quinze had planned for this eventuality. Oz was not stupid, just taciturn, and they would definitely want to die hard as a matter of course. At this point in the game, not surrendering was the same result as surrendering, only with the added benefit of company in Hell when they finally did give out.

-x-

On the other side of the ship, Lieutenant Colonel Darkson was sweating his fate. White Fang had literally sprung out of the bulkheads overnight, and so far they had a reputation of being less than lenient with captured officers. In this case, though, it did not matter what he thought they would do to him — he had given his word to Dermail that someone would take Libra only over his dead body. Unfortunately, today looked like the day that oath was about to be probated.

"Lieutenant Colonel, we just lost the #6 defensive bulwark! The defensive team reported they were using antitank rockets on the shields and makeshift barriers," the radio operator announced.

"Well, we certainly weren't expected to win this conventionally," Darkson considered aloud. "Anyone else willing to take up arms?"

"We have a few of the mechanical staff that volunteered, but that's it."

"Get them guns and get them in defensive placements. We need to hold them long enough for the rest of the loyal personnel to pull out." The White Fang personnel may have seen his efforts as nothing more than a stubborn defense, but Lt. Col. Darkson was not running this defense pattern for ego. In such an infiltration scenario, there was no hope for victory in any conventional sense of the word — his bare two battalions would not be able to retake Libra, or even hold their positions until reinforcements arrived. On the other hand, he did have an obligation to the civilian contractors and personnel who were on the ship, and getting them loaded onto shuttles was his present priority.

"On it, sir!" His administrative assistant turned away and began running down the hall toward where the remaining civilians were holed up.

"How are matters going in East?"

"The Captain in charge reports he has only two shuttles to release," the radio officer answered.

"Damn good, we're almost down to no hostages. Talbot, issue out the rest of our weps and ammo to the troops. They'll probably make a hard push here in the next twenty minutes. And personally oversee the loading of the last shuttles, I want those civvies off this ship before they push through our last defenses!"

"On it, sir!" Talbot stood to attention and saluted. "Sir, what word should I give to your wife when I get planetside?"

"Tell her to make sure our daughter knows what went wrong up here, and to prevent it happening again," the Lieutenant Colonel answered off cuff.

"It shall be done," Talbot dropped his salute and turned away from the Colonel sharply. Both knew it would be the last time they saw each other alive.

-x-

"Don't worry about the shuttles, they're just fleeing civilians," Colonel Sedichi noted coldly. "The meat and potatoes resistance is in the defensive emplacements. Use the heavy weapons teams to reduce those fortifications!"

Quinze entered the bridge seconds after, as the operators were issuing orders to the various weapons teams to get them in place.

"General on deck!" the door guard shouted after he recognized the entrant.

"As you were," Quinze responded reflexively. "Sedichi, any changes?"

"No change at this time, sir. We've knocked out two of their emplacements, but we're still trying to reduce their other defenses. And, I take it you've noticed?"

"Yes, hard not to notice." Quinze was referring to the increasing air pressure inside Libra. The use of firearms and explosives inside a sealed environment would increase air pressure dramatically, which could affect a lot of things and theoretically even cause Nitrogen Narcosis — a disease more commonly attributed to deep-sea divers than it would be known for in space. "I will take over here, Sedichi. Move out, take local control of the Southern Arm."

"Yes, sir, General has the Conn." Sedichi saluted the much-older General and was out the door seconds thereafter.

"Conn, Sensors, two more shuttles launched from the Southern Arm. They are squawking relief flight status."

"Ignore them. Keep an eye out and about for Oz reinforcement teams or Mobile Suits," Quinze ordered immediately. Retreating enemies were far less of a threat than would be approaching enemies or those already inside the hull.

"Aye, sir. No contacts in vicinity of Libra that are not already identified as friendly or retreating."

"Two major operations in a day," Quinze chuckled grimly after thinking aloud. "Colonel Treize was this bold, or I should say, is still this bold. Thankfully, he's no longer on their side."

"Whose side is he on, sir?"

"Not really sure," Quinze said. "He is a staunch proponent of the aristocracy, but he's right now working with the mercenaries to flatten the Romefeller Foundation. I'm not really sure where that puts him, but for sure he's not helping the bastards that have been screwing us for years."

"Pacifism may be all well and good, but sometimes you just have to slap someone to get their attention." the radio operator said.

"Or kick their ass to force them to leave you alone," one of the sensors operators replied heartily.

"There are many ways to force them to respect you," Quinze said pensively. "We will be taking one of the more direct routes to forced equanimity."

"And what about the Archangel? Whether we like it or not, they're in this too deep to ignore," one of the engineering officers asked.

"They're in my plans as well," Quinze said with a smile. Those who were looking in his general direction were convinced it was the kind of smile that psychos used from time to time.

-x-

"Lieutenant Colonel! We've lost defensive advantages here! We have to fall back!"

"You fall back, Sergeant. I will cover your retreat."

The Lieutenant Colonel picked up his choice of assault rifle, and just for sex appeal also picked up two submachine guns as 'drop guns'. He intended to use the extended magazines for all they were worth, and then drop them aside for his primary weapon. To this he added a pair of pistols and several grenades, older surplus 'lemon' grenades. He definitely figured he was going to hell today, and he wanted company when he got there.

Grossly unprofessional conduct, but someone had to make the last stand while the rest of the troop pulled out.

"How many corridors between me and them?" the Lieutenant Colonel asked one of the retreating infantry officers.

"Two, sir. They hold all the intersections beyond that," the Corporal answered as he braced two wounded troops on their way to the shuttle bay. "Don't go through there, sir, it's suicide!"

"Don't wait for me, get out of here!" the Lieutenant Colonel shouted at them before he kicked off down the first hall.

The Lieutenant Colonel moved down to the end of the corridor and stopped himself short at the intersection. With a small pocket mirror, he checked around the corner to verify safe or not. Much as he had been told, it was inherently unsafe; he could easily count over a dozen infantry in the general vicinity of the next two intersections.

With a clear idea what he was about to get into, the plan built itself in his mind. It was a four-phase gig, a plan to make sure they knew they had been kissed. The first part of the plan involved one of the older 'lemon' grenades, and some wildly unprofessional conduct. "Oi! Suck on this lemon, boys!" Darkson shouted as he slung the grenade around the corner, with the clear intent of bouncing it off the far wall.

"SHIT! Grenade!" It was too little warning too late, as the natively lower air pressure and lack of gravity turned the grenade fragments into long-range killing devices, even as the bulk of the fragments killed the nearest four troops.

With the introduction phase dealt with, the Lieutenant Colonel stepped into the fray with both submachine guns. While the common apropos of dual wielding SMGs would have been to advance recklessly while firing, recoil would have brought his assault to a spinning halt. In this case, he let the recoil of his initial burst drive him back against a wall, and simply aimed down the corridor with both submachine guns, letting it all loose with short bursts from both guns in tandem. No gravity meant the bullets only slowed by air resistance, but little of that was in effect in Libra. By the time the bolts on his weapons slammed forward on empty chambers, he had killed a third of the personnel in the hall and wounded almost all the rest.

As planned, the subs went aside and he bolted forward with the assault rifle at the ready. Those few troops that survived his initial onslaught had retreated to allow fresh personnel forward, often as they dragged the wounded down a side corridor to get them out of the line fire. These new personnel were met by short bursts of automatic rifle fire. In space, no gravity made it simple to move around but difficult to brace for recoil.

At the next intersection, Darkson pulled his second of four grenades and tossed it down the hall as he cleared past, allowing him to clear his rear without hazard of being shot. Once the grenade detonated behind him, he dropped a quick burst of rifle fire down a hall to the left to suppress movement while he advanced. This accomplished, he unlocked and pulled his rifle magazine since there was no gravity to force a free-fall, and the Lieutenant Colonel pulled a new magazine to load in.

He would never get the new magazine into the rifle before an enemy colonel put three rounds in his chest.

-x-x-x-

(21 November AC195, 1900 Hours)
(Warship Archangel, approaching Space Fortress Barge)

"Definitely a big sucker," Miriallia groused as she watched Barge on the main CIC screen.

"Bigger they are, the harder they fall," Sai noted.

"They punch, kick harder and carry bigger guns, too, Ensign," Newman added from the helm seat.

"And we punch well above our weight," Chandratta completed the thought. "Captain, I'm close enough now to hit them with the Lohengrins."

"Hold off on the Lohengrins until we get real close. We're here to cripple Barge, not completely destroy it." In reality, Murrue was not concerned whatsoever with Barge itself — her concern was the thousand-plus crewmen on board. The Archangel Team counted themselves as mercenaries, not monsters, and were determined to prove it. Avoiding annihilating the entire crew would go a long way to cementing that reputation and garner some after-the-fact goodwill in the process, a win-win scenario in Murrue's purview.

"Aye, Captain. Next option is Valiants, also in range, and Gottfrieds in range in 3 minutes."

"Should I wake 'em and shake 'em, Captain?" Kuzzey asked.

"No, let's see how close we can get without being harassed."

"Got your answer right now, cap'n. Barge is launching both manned and Mobile Doll Taurus units right now. Also showing something else - may be a Gundam, Captain."

"Move our units out," Murrue ordered to Miriallia. "Chandratta, you're on. Capital weapons on Barge, point defenses on Mobile Suits and that...Gundam?" Whatever they were looking at, it did not have much appearance of a Gundam, even by the unusual local standards.

"I'm pretty sure that's a Gundam, but right now my machine doesn't recognize it, and I don't know it," Kira said over the command circuit to the bridge.

"You're on, Kira," Miriallia ordered. "Intercept and suppress new machine. Destroy if possible."

"Another day on the job," Kira groused. "Moving to launch catapult now."

-x-

"So, they did make the obvious move," Valder Farkill said with a savage smile. "One wimpy warship and a dozen units. How in the hell did Oz get stiffed by these clowns?"

His administrative assistant did not answer, since that is typically the only person he talked to during most battles. "Farkill, this is Barge. You are to intercept and eliminate the enemy white machines, specifically the Strike Freedom and 105 Dagger. Support the anti-ship operations as possible."

"I intended it, but keep one thing in mind, Barge. I outrank you, so don't presume to give me orders," General Farkill corrected the operator.

"Aye aye, sir," the Operator cut the link. "And I hope you go to hell while you're at it," she said to the dead radio system in front of her.

"Looks like they're launching," his administrative assistant said. "First one out is the white one, Strike Freedom."

"Time to play," Valder said with his savage grin again. "Wh—whoa, shit!" he said as a large beam from the combined rifles of the enemy machine came real close to coring out his machine. "If I hadn't dodged his aimpoint, that would have ended me. This guy may be a serious player."

"Where do you want me, Gen-" his request was cut short by the Vayeate, a single beam that put paid to his Taurus MS.

"Damn, need another administrative assistant," Valder groused. "I'll start with you, Vayeate," and Valder put actions to words with his buster gun and beam cannons on the back arm extensions of his machine. Even the triple attack was ineffective, though, with the Strike Freedom blocking all three shots using - "Damn, what kind of shield was that?"

As Valder hesitated in trying to size up this new and unexpectedly effective foe, two more machines left the launch bay on the ship, specifically the Mercurius and Duel. Several of his more aggressive allied machines had also taken the front, leading to some basic and not unexpected carnage as the enemy machines began engaging at range. The ease with which they swept aside the myriad Taurus and Leo machines reminded Valder of himself, as he brought down the United Earth Sphere Alliance just months ago.

He decided on his first course of action as a decent primary — take out the most threatening enemy machine possible. "This is Valder Farkill to all units. I am engaging the enemy Strike Freedom. Do not interfere!"

-x-

"Sounds like someone has a total man-crush on you, Strike," Yzak said in jest.

"Trust me, I don't want the attention from this one," Kira replied while he blocked four shots from the enemy machine. "Computer, cross-reference pilot names to machines: Valder Farkill."

"Standby," the Artificial Intelligence entity in his battle computer answered. "Match on identification, no machine information. Valder Farkill, Oz Specials unit, served under Zechs Merquise during Operation Daybreak. Racked up enough kills to earn the nickname 'Dark General of Destruction' in the process. Believed to be a high-functioning megalomaniac sociopath with psychotic tendencies. Status unknown after Op Daybreak; no confirmed history is known past that."

"Wonderful. It's Kefka in a mobile suit and without the clown makeup," Kira groused, referencing Lord Kefka who served under Emperor Gestahl in their failed bid to take over the world on the last planet they were on.

"Aww shit, here we go again," Tolle continued the thought.

"Why is it we always have to deal with psychotic asshats wherever we go?" Athrun asked while he actively shielded the Vayeate from interception by the growing number of enemy machines.

"Well, this is really a new advent," Miriallia said. "No psychos on Cephiro, and the Clanners are fanatically misguided, so we're running about half and half."

"That is an interesting description for the Clans," Pytor said with a quick chuckle. In a short pause thereafter, he silenced a pair of Taurus that crossed each other using only a single cannon shot. "And, not an altogether incorrect one, I have seen in hindsight."

"I find your lack of faith in my natural abilities...disappointing," General Farkill noted in a clearly soured voice. "Especially your battle computer's assessment. Psychosis and brilliance are separated only by degrees of success, and I have a long record of winning."

"Ghuh? Who left their radio on open broadcast?" Athrun asked. As one, a dozen persons checked their radio consoles. "Oh, shit, it was me."

"Smooth move, Zala," Yzak said at his most acidic.

-x-

"Like I said, megalomaniacal," the Battle Computer reiterated. "A being that thinks success at being a psychotic manslayer is some manner of brilliance also clearly qualifies for the textbook definitions of sociopathy and megalomania."

"Your battle computer has a real mouth on it, Strike Freedom. When I take your Gundam for my personal collection, I'll have to remove it," Valder answered.

"You go before the computer goes, Dark General," the pilot answered. Valder was not able to dodge the snap-shots of rail guns rounds from its hip binders, but the impacts did not penetrate the heavy armor on his Hydra Gundam. They were meant only as a distraction that Valder barely could react to, with a pair of extra beam shots at closer range that Valder barely sidestepped the aimpoints before they were discharged.

This guy is real good, Valder thought cynically. "Time to play in my range bracket, puke!" Valder continued to close even while firing, mostly ignoring the other players on the growing battlefield. So far, nobody else was making any moves toward him, meaning that Valder indeed got his wish of a one-on-one with the Strike Freedom.

"More enemy machines leaving the Archangel! Count an unidentified erm, pink machine and the Rune God Rayearth!"

"That's orange, Barge, not pink. Get your eyes checked," Valder replied sharply. The machine in question was a Mobile Suit, but of a type not common to the (present) Earth Sphere. The Rune God was definitely an interesting thought, but these environs were not suited to the use of their magic skills in his estimation.

"Barge Reporting, we're charging the Barge Cannon now. 40 percent at this time, estimate 65 minutes to firing strength," a different Operator announced.

"Idiots, this battle will be decided in fifteen minutes," Farkill groused. "You're mine, Strike Freedom!"

"Not happening, Dark General!" the enemy pilot easily blocked both beam saber swings, and the beam shield it projected from the left arm was enough to force the buster gun away from firing angle. "We do not bow to psychos!"

"Then you will bow to your betters! You and your worthless ship!" He reinforced his declaration with several swings of his beam saber, all of which were expertly turned aside by the beam shield.

"You are no master of the sword!" A lady shouted nearly loud enough to cause the radio channel to distort. Valder saw the movement of the blue Rune God on his right-side monitor, but not soon enough to stop the direct blow against his right arm. The sword that he thought was simply a steel edifice, a relic of the bygone eras of superstitions in Gods and such, cut clean through his Gundam's arm and even tore off part of his skirt armor on the way past. The after-the-fact dodge reaction to the left and down was pure instinct, but in this case a fatal mistake.

-x-

Kira saw and capitalized on the movement in real-time. After he loosed the right beam rifle, he reached out and grabbed a hold of the extensible beam cannon binders on the shoulder of the enemy machine and forced a grip to the point that the hand on his Gundam crushed in the armor until he was holding onto the structural member inside the binder arm. With that grip secured, Valder could not escape.

The left arm beam rifle did not release, and for good reason. Kira put the muzzle to the left hip armor that Umi had damaged, and fired three shots into the structural plating behind the skirt armor. Two of the shots disabled the main engines under the skirt, the third punched through a fuel tank and destroyed the pump mechanism (3). At this point he did release the beam rifle and spun around the pivot point on the enemy's right binder, to bring his gundam in behind the enemy machine.

"What the — how can this machine be so powerful? Mine is supposed to be the Ultimate Gundam! The ultimate fighting machine!"

"My power is in my team, Farkill. We move as one!" Kira pulled the enemy machine in to the point where the back of the machine was against the chest of the Strike Freedom — and specifically against the muzzle of the Callidus multi-phase beam cannon in its chest. "We fight as one!" Kira tripped the Callidus, which blew a monstrous chunk out of the head and torso of the enemy gundam due to particle scattering from the point blank shot. "We win as one!" What was left of the Gundam, including the untouched cockpit and engine, Kira kicked down toward the Archangel's line of advance. "Chandratta!"

"I hear you, kiddo," the bridge gun-bunny answered coldly. The port-side Gottfried changed angle slightly, elevated up a few degrees, and waited.

"Damn you! I was supposed to be the best!" Valder raged from his drifting Gundam.

Chandratta loosed a single barrel after a second's realignment. The 2.25-meter naval beam cannon blew through the engine encapsulation and caused a wildcat reactor detonation that shredded the remainder of the enemy machine. "You are not the best any more, asshole," he announced on the open frequency.

-x-

"Okay, that's not good," the Operator noted to herself. "He may have been an asshole, but he was supposed to be an unstoppable asshole."

"And the Archangel Team just disassembled him on live television," the Captain of Barge said coldly. It had not taken the ELINT team on board more than a minute to find the signals going out of the Archangel — and several of those channels were broadcast to satellite relays headed to the colonies and Earth itself. If it was not on a thirty second delay, it would have made for a good intelligence tool for Oz. As it happened, it was now being used as a propaganda tool, proof that Romefeller was defeatable even in their prime.

"What are your orders, Captain?" the Executive Officer (XO) asked quickly.

"Prepare hull laser cannons, target enemy warship from extreme range," he ordered immediately. "We can't arm the main cannon before the battle is over, but we can sink them with the lasers."

"On it," the XO answered. "Fire control, arm all exterior laser cannons, target enemy warship Archangel, do not hesitate to take a killing shot if you get one!"

"Arm exterior laser cannons, aye sir!" the Weapons Officer answered immediately. "Exterior laser cannons and targeting systems are activating now, two minutes to firing charge in all weapons!"

"Holy crap, look at that," the Sensor officer half-squeaked, which drew all attention back to her or the other view screens. "Is that — how much firepower does that ship really have?"

"I do not know, but with the capture of hundreds of our beam cannons, they've put a lot of them into turret assemblies around the ship for just exactly this purpose," another Sensor operator said coldly. As they watched intently, the Mercurius lost a leg to a Leo, though the very brave soul involved paid for it with his life.

The Archangel had moved into the engagement zone, a move that seemed counterintuitive to the Oz personnel until they realized that the ship was directly supporting the Mobile Forces under it with its own large and diverse arsenal. More to the point, the ship seemed to have the targeting systems and computation power to make the intercepts with at least a third of its shots and likely more, an unheard-of success rate among Oz naval personnel.

"Cannons coming online now, sir!"

"Use them! Good God, put down suppressing fire if you have to, our men are getting shredded out there!"

"Suppressing fire, aye, sir!"

-x-

The one thing Mu did not really like about the new GuAIZ machine he was riding was the lack of a traditional beam saber, though Kira promised an upgrade before they made the next jump.

On the other hand, he found nothing discouraging at all with the rest of the machine. The mounted beam saber on the shield was ample for close-in work against the Taurus machines, and the beam rifle was faster than he expected, leaving a goodly pile of dead enemy machines in his wake so far. "Team, Mu, we need to press the advantage while they reel from Valder's death! Who's with me?"

"I've got your six," Yzak answered immediately as he crossed behind the force commander. As he did so, Yzak popped off two beam rifle rounds and an EM Rifle slug toward a particularly feisty Leo. Only one beam hit, though it was fatal to the machine.

"These gomers are history!" Tolle dropped a shot of his combined weapons to suppress an entire area to the left of the GuAIZ, and scored three kills with two damaged machines for good measure. "Nicol!"

"I've got him," the ZAFT pilot answered immediately. Nicol was quite a bit faster than the Taurus pilot trying to flank him, though it turned out to be Hikaru who chopped the enemy machine in half laterally as she moved forward. "Whoa, thanks, Hikaru."

"Press the line, all forces toward the center!" Mu ordered. He suited actions to words himself, shoving the throttles forward to the stops on his new orange-painted GuAIZ. The surge of speed was significant, given the GuAIZ had been designed for Coordinators to take full advantage of this maneuver capability against the Earth Alliance Mobile Suits. As he surged forward, an outstretched beam saber put down a commander's Leo and scratched a Taurus on the way past. Umi took care of the partial, the claws on the left hand of Selesce easily capable of tearing apart titanium armor.

"Mu, Archangel, you punch us a hole, we'll exploit it," Murrue modified his battle plan.

"I'm on it," Mu answered.

"Whoa, guys, Barge is tracking us! Prepare for laser cannon fire!" Kira announced.

"I've got a solution to that," Chandratta announced.

-x-

"Captain, we're down roughly two-thirds of the Mobile Suits, and they're not slowing down." On the viewscreen, they watched as the green Gundam — the Buster — fired off a shotgun blast from its combined weapon, a single stroke that destroyed two machines and crippled four more. He paid for it two seconds later, a laser cannon shot that removed the entire left arm and part of the shoulder, but that was a paltry price to pay for a team whose major fighting strength seemed to be nigh unstoppable.

"Oh, shit! Incoming!" the Operator recoiled from the screen as missiles approached the external camera and wiped it out. A quarter-second later, the room jolted from the explosions, given the distance between the bridge and the front of the ship. These jolts were followed by a second set, and some loud impact sounds that did not cause movement on the bridge.

"Looks like they have the same idea, Captain. That was six missiles and four naval rail gun slugs, and I now show two of our laser cannon sets offline," the Chief Engineer said.

"Ain't this sweeter than shit," the Captain said. "Limited MS and MD, limited firepower, and now we have a flea with some serious bite." A different camera showed the Archangel fired through a clump of Mobile Dolls with its naval beam cannons, with the express target of the Barge as their final destination. This time, no sound, no impact, though more of the damage board lit up bright red from the attack.

"Flea? Except us, Peacemillion, and Libra, that is the biggest ship in the Earth Sphere!" A slightly-hysterical helmsman half shouted.

"And it's a dedicated anti-ship and anti-MS platform, something we're not, Captain." If the XO could sound any colder, how was lost on the rest of the staff.

"Okay, okay, I see where this is going," the Captain admitted as more missile impacts rang throughout the superstructure of the ship. The MS forces were down to less than a full hundred machines, though the Duel had lost a head and Windam had been forced to retreat. "We can't stop them conventionally. That much is obvious, and if we sit here we'll get slaughtered. Mercenaries!" He slammed one of the radar consoles in frustration, a strike hard enough to cause the screen to black out. "Issue recall orders to all our machines, and issue a surrender proclamation."

-x-x-x-

(21 November AC195, 2100 Hours)
(Space Fortress Barge)

"Move it up! All of you!" Chief Ryback shouted at the column of marching prisoners headed toward the evacuation shuttle. "Gomer, how many more?"

"Another 400 or so and we're clear here," the XO Mechanic answered curtly.

"Keep your hands where they can be seen at all times!" the sauce chef shouted, looking back and forth across the sea of Oz personnel still waiting to board shuttles. "You! Asshole with the black hair and mole, keep your damn hands up! I ain't got time for your personal shit!"

There had been something of a resistance to the order to evacuate Barge, and in all reality the Archangel expected it. Such a massive ship, defeated by the smallest heavy-gun warship in the Earth Sphere? Absurd, many had shouted throughout these halls. Even a few armed press gangs had taken to roaming, prepared to repel boarders should it come to that.

The first Archangel personnel on the ship were the Elementals, sent forward by Captain Ramius to ensure that the terms of surrender were carried out to the letter. As Natalys began organizing the debarkation of Barge, one of those Press Gangs had made the mistake of shooting at her with pistols and a shotgun. Two SRMs and a short burst of needler had put paid to five harassers, and the rest of her point took the liberty to demonstrate what a Battlemech Small Laser will do to a man. Needless to say, resistance was minimal after that incident.

"Make sure the count is accurate, Gomer. We want to get everyone out."

"Aye, sir!" the mechanic XO answered.

"Take over here, I'm going to supervise the placement of demolitions charges."

"Whips and chains, sir!" the radio link cut off after a moment.

Ryback ducked down a secondary access corridor and began the trudge toward the main generator spaces. Barge was no small edifice, easily two kilometers long just in the main superstructure areas, and another 500 meters longer at the cannon muzzles. A couple stragglers were making their way toward the launch bays, though nothing of serious threat now that the Reserve Marines and Mechanic Marines were sweeping the ship.

Partway to the generator room, he came across a dozen men, all walking with hands on the backs of their heads. It did not take long for Ryback to understand why a gaggle was being marched out, or who was doing it. "Found this lot hiding in a cargo bay, Chief," Hikaru reported as she stopped beside him. "A couple decided to attack me, but..." the unmistakable odor of burnt gunpowder was all the explanation he needed.

"In every lot, there will always be some that disobey orders. It's why I cook as a primary job," Ryback admitted. "Keep 'em moving, Magic Knight."

"Aye, sir," Hikaru answered.

Two turns and 300 yards further into the ship, he came across the bulk of his men doing what they did best: preparing to break stuff and look tough. "Chief, just in time!"

"Ah, good! I love this part!" Ryback said cheerily. Without further word, he slung his assault rifle over his shoulder and picked up a spool of detcord to begin wiring the explosive charges together. A combat knife sufficed for cutting the cord that he threw to the baker up on top of the generator. "Full safeties, boys! I don't want to be this close to the party favors when they go off!"

"Way 'head of you, boss man!" the Baker answered. "Jizzy, where'd you put the kryton switch for the top of the generator?"

"Behind you, dirtbag," the grill-master answered.

"Oh, right," the baker groused. With a quick click to connect the detcord to the switchbox, the first line of charges was set for demolition. "Boss, toss me a twenty-meter section for the switchbox to the firing panel."

Ryback spooled out twenty meters of the detcord cable, cut it, and tossed it up to the baker. "Toss me the slack back, jack," and a second later the baker returned the rest of the cable. Ryback plugged it into the fire control panel that would be used to set off all the charges simultaneously or close to it.

"What the — hey!" the Grill Master shouted. As Ryback turned his head to look, the grill-master dropped a brick of pentaglycerine demolition charge and brought his submachine gun up, aiming it into a corner between some heavy equipment. "You, come on out of there!"

"No way! I'm staying right here!" a young lady shouted defiantly.

"Kid, you do know we're wiring this room for demolition, right?" the Grill Master shouted.

"And when you leave, I'll disarm them! And you can't shoot an unarmed combatant!" She shouted in response.

"Kid, we use crush-sensitive detonators," Ryback said calmly. "You try dismantling the explosives after we arm them, you start the party right then and there, and with how much blasting agent we're using there will not be enough left of you to identify by DNA sampling."

"Oh," she squeaked. "Erm, okay, not a good idea," she admitted after ten seconds of hesitation.

"No shit, kiddo," the baker replied sarcastically. "Get your ass out of here and down to the shuttle bay, right now!"

"Erm, okay," she said before she came out of the corner. Ryback directed her out the door and down the hall to the evacuation area.

"Fucking amateurs, all over the damn place," the Grill Master complained heartily.

"World's full of them," Ryback agreed. "And it's a damn good thing you noticed. If she had set this work off so much as a minute after we de-assed the area, we'd still probably be dead."

"No shit, sensei," the Baker acknowledged. "I'm done up top the main generator housing, I'm'a head over to the pressure vent pipes. Where's the cutting charges?"

"Over with my sex toys," and the Grill Master pointed to a pink-striped heavy equipment case that in reality contained detonators, not personal amusement devices. The neighboring container was labeled 'Demolitions charges, Line Charge and Cutting Charge types, 100 units' which clearly indicated what he was looking for.

"We've got all day to do this, people, and we still have to wire up the main powerplant. I want this done right, screw doing it fast for the time being."

"Airborne, sir!" the baker answered. They didn't expect nor want to blow Barge up, as that would have been impossible with the Archangel's limited resources. On the other hand, you only had to destroy a few critical components to turn Barge into an inoperable hunk of metal...

-x-x-x-

(23 November AC195, 0600 Hours)
(Neutral Colony L4-0522)

In the past day, two parties had gained both fame and popularity throughout the colonies. The Archangel Team was now approaching hero-worship status among the denizens of space, given their defeat and subsequent disabling of Space Fortress Barge. Several colonies were now bidding amongst themselves for the right to salvage and dismantle Barge, with a 30 percent cut to the Archangel Team to be paid in advance. It was almost as hefty a haul as the team had racked up smashing Clanners for the Inner Sphere.

The second party was the White Fang Liberation Front, and their arrival on the scene had been both louder and harder than the Archangel Team, if that was possible. Their coup started on the moon with the Mobile Doll production facilities, and less than a day later they struck fast and captured Space Battleship Libra, a still-being-constructed mega-warship with enough particle cannons built in to put holes in Earth. That ship had been a secret, until White Fang made it public knowledge and said that it would be disassembled entirely after the cessation of hostilities and emancipation of the colonies. Murrue figured that a decent set of preconditions, and further expected the Cosmic Era Earth Alliance could learn some lesson there.

All that remained was tying in the operations together to finish off a mutual enemy. To that end, Murrue had set up shop in a 'neutral' colony in the L4 area, not far from Libra. It had taken her not an hour of listening to the people to understand that the only pretense of neutrality in the colony was the lack of White Fang banners to hang from the buildings and paint on the outside hull. In all measures of the word, the colony citizens were definitely not neutral.

Captain Ramius was on her third cup of coffee by the time anyone official showed up, and that was only a SPO (4) for the White Fang lead. He was more cordial than any common guard would be, but still not completely talkative. In reality, he was doing a check-run of the bistro selected for the meet before his principal showed up for the meet. Not that there was a huge amount of persons to examine outside of the crew, given the sea of khaki uniforms in the place, all sporting the same 12-centimeter patch with the silhouette of a certain warship on it...

Of course, the abundance of Archangel personnel in the bistro was part by design of Commander Chevalier, and part pure chance. Not many restaurants were open throughout the colony today, and the Archangel was a ship that ran on its stomach, so those few brave souls running food shops today were inundated by hungry (and well-paid) crewmembers.

A second SPO entered the facility, followed closely by Quinze, Sedichi, and two more SPOs. Surprisingly, it was Murdoch that gave the hue and cry of the day. "General on deck!" he shouted when he realized what manner of brass just walked in. The immediate sound of clattering chairs and standing personnel brought all activity in the building to a halt.

"Whoa, that wasn't what I was expecting," Colonel Sedichi said, rather shocked to see such conduct from mercenaries with a reputation for being unruly.

"Settle down, guys," Commander La Flaga answered. "Colonel, General, if you will join us?"

"Certainly," Quinze answered calmly as the rest of the restaurant began to settle down again.

"So, where do we begin?" Mu La Flaga asked as an open question.

"Well, I requested the meet, and in all reality I have only one major question. How far is the Sanc Kingdom willing to take this?" Quinze asked.

Murrue nodded thoughtfully. "Once we do a brief basic supplies restock up here, we're going to drop into central Russia and just sweep from east to west, clearing as we go and organizing the rebel groups into local militias to retain control over territory we liberate. While we are hammering on Romefeller, Treize will keep them occupied in the Baltic and Scandinavian regions, wasting resources on a force they can't hope to stop."

Morgan Chevalier picked up where Captain Ramius left off. " Week or two, we're into Central Europe and the game is on. Once we start taking their main landholdings, the whole world goes up in rebellion against Romefeller."

"And they get left with nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide, no way out except surrender...or death before the gallows," Colonel Sedichi said coldly.

Murrue nodded assent to his analysis. "That is how we intend to force the issue. Dermail is no idiot; once the provinces flare up, he will know the game is over. We give him a clean out, with the alternative being to take his chances against the civilians without an army to do his bidding. I'm reasonably confident he knows which option to choose."

"Then what?" Sedichi asked, wary of the endgame of the scenario. If they made it bloody, it could echo in the colonies...

"We exile him to an island in the southern pacific, where he can't do anything to steer policy again. Out of sight, out of mind, out of influence and out of everyone's hair," Mu concluded. Murrue looked at him strangely, but said nothing about it. "Treize takes over and cleans house on Earth, the Colonies walk away clean, and we get a brief vacation before we jump toward home."

"I'll admit I have not had much time to examine the history of your ship before this meet," Quinze noted as a qualifier to his coming question. "But, I must ask, have you done this before?"

"Similar," Murrue answered. "In the last case, we had to drop an Emperor that was about to cause some global destruction." Murrue waved her index finger at a different table. "Guy over there, tall one with the throttle-and-yoke armpatch, plugged Emperor Gestahl with a fifty-caliber sniper rifle at 900 meters across shifting winds and terrain. He also pilots the ship. The guy next to him is the officer in charge of the Commando team, Chief Ryback. He organized the demolition of the critical systems on Barge."

"And you tell me this why?" Quinze asked after a few moments of silence.

"Give you an idea what exactly you're looking at," Murrue answered calmly. "I've noticed one thing in this Earth Sphere, all too often command personnel are more interested in machines and throw weights than they are concerned for the men under them." She held up a warning hand before anyone could make claim against her. "I don't think White Fang suffers that fatal mentality, or at least insofar as I have seen reports of your actions, but remember that on the other side of your crosshairs is another living being, and all too often they're just in the wrong place at the wrong time, not really a hazard. I'm not out to kill them all, I just want to break them."

"Message received, Captain," Quinze answered. He chafed a bit at the implied moral quandary, but held his peace on the matter. "What do you want from us to make this campaign reality?"

"Can you provide mobile suit support to the rebel groups that will spring up all over the planet?" Mu asked.

"Easily," Colonel Sedichi answered. "We're working on retooling the Lunar Base to manufacture Taurus machines, and we think we can convert the production line of the new Virgo II machines to manned units, so we have options."

"It will be several days before we are ready to return to Earth. Once we do, though, we will need rearguard troops to assist the local rebel groups, and we will need a lot of them," Commander Chevalier said.

"When this begins, Romefeller is going to throw everything at us, for they will know it is the beginning of their end," Mu said.

"And a world will thank you for that ending," Quinze noted with a smile.

-x-x-x-

-click-

"I am in Colony L4-10545, standing in the observation deck above the freelance Warship Archangel. For the past hour, we have watched as it loaded in food, water, fuel and medical supplies, as well as salvaged munitions and weapons from the Oz outpost recently liberated by White Fang. What their next move is, nobody knows for sure, and nobody is willing to speculate on when the Archangel will next go into the Danger Zone."

-click-

"This war has to come back down to Earth at this point in the match, or it sits indefinitely at an impasse until White Fang completes Libra — "

-click-

"HI! Billy Mays Here for — "

-click-

"The Romefeller Foundation legal representatives have brought legal action against the Sanc Kingdom for gross piracy in pertaining to their mercenary attack on the Space Fortress Barge, though the expectation of a favorable ruling is near zero due to the state of war between the two nations — "

-click-

"Barge was the pride of the Oz Space Forces, and their greatest intimidation weapon in the arsenal. With its surrender and subsequent disabling by the Archangel — "

-click-

"On Today's The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly segment, we have a shocking list for you. The Good: export restrictions have been lifted to the Moon, following a quick halt due to the terrorist capture of the Moon Bases. The Bad, we have the defeat of Space Fortress Barge, and with it any hope of a quick and favorable end to the war — "

-click-

(Insert loud Dance music, psychedelic visuals, hamsters in trendy clothes, and some squared-off passenger vehicle driving through the stars.)

-click-

"I am here on site with two members of the Archangel crew, your names?" The reporter waved her microphone at them.

"Tolle Koenig, Gundam Pilot," the guy answered.

"Miriallia Haw, Mobile Forces Operator," the lady answered.

"And how long do you think this will drag on?"

"The troops will be home for Christmas," Miriallia answered. "Duke Dermail's on his last leg, and he's not fooling anyone with his continued threats and boasts — "

-click-

"The most interesting consideration about the Mobile Dolls' apparent ineffectiveness is in the construction of the machines. They can resist some fire from light beam weapons, but heavy ballistic and missile weapons shred them apart readily, as demonstrated by this video footage released by the Archangel Team of a missile strike on Romefeller Mobile Dolls in Luxembourg — "

-click-

"Here's the deal, when you buy the Slap Chop, we're going to give you the Graty for cheap — "

-click-

"We can only guess that she's going to be down planetside again, and when she does swing by, it's gonna be party time for Romefeller — "

-click-

"I don't know why I keep watching this crap," Duke Dermail groused at the blanked-out television.

-x-x-x-

(Elsewhere in Existence...)

Valder Farkill awoke with a start, bolting to standing when he heard what sounded like Mobile Suit legs against the ground. On a quick inspection, he appeared to be in some kind of temperate-area light forest, not in the cockpit of his Gundam Hydra, where he last remembered himself to be. "You alive, buddy?"

"What?" Valder looked the asking person up and down, severely confused why an old American Infantryman in desert camo would be anywhere near him. America as a nation had died hundreds of years prior to AC195, and precious few relics of that bygone era existed to remind them of its soured existence. "What the hell? Who are you?"

"Just another poor schlub that was good enough to earn his place on another battlefield," the trooper answered. "You must be new here, I'm guessing."

Valder paused to watch the nearby Mobile Suit trudge through a clearing in the semi-forest area they were in. It was a clunky green machine, even clunkier than the Leo he started out piloting in, with a machine gun that fed from a pancake drum on top of it and exposed cable harnesses around the sides of the knee joints. Valder briefly wondered where it came from, or who would build such a clunky machine, but decided against asking questions.

"What the hell is going on here?" Valder asked nobody in particular.

"Come on, let's take a walk, bub," the Infantryman waved him forward, in the same direction the Mobile Suit was moving. Valder fell in behind and slightly to the right of the trooper. "Yo, Valligar! Been out to the front yet?"

If the American Infantryman had been a bewilderment to Farkill, the appearance of this new being from the mists of the forest was stunningly obtuse to the Dark General. A Viking in period-proper arms and armor, not the opera viking shit seen on television, and Valder could tell this guy probably had some time on shore assaults as the Vikings did it hundreds of years before the American Infantryman would have even been born. Why would any being in their right mind even consider taking a shield and sword onto a battlefield ruled by firearms and Mobile Suits?

"I have, you new world bastard," the Viking said with surprisingly good cheer. "Cleaved up two and tickled their front line. Care to take a guess who is over there?"

The sound of a very fast machine gun echoed through the sparse forest area they were walking in. "Wait, was that a Machinegewehr '42?" Valder asked, barely recognizing the sound as similar to old reel footage of the machine gun in action during World War II.

"Actually, no," the American Infantryman answered. "That is a Rhinemetall MG3, which is a derivation of the old MG '42 of Nazi fame and sounds real close but not quite the same. That would mean Vasco The Hitman is holding this area of the line, not Colonel Krupper today. Better and better."

"How is that any measure of good? And why would a late-era American Infantryman be fighting a World War II-era Nazi Colonel?"

The American Infantryman sighed. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Know? What should I know?" Valder asked sharply.

"You are aware you died in your last battle, right?"

"What? Hell no," Valder answered testily. "I'm a little bit too alive right now to be dead!" he raged.

"Well, slight problem with your thought there, amigo. The only way you can get to where you are standing right now is if you die and are picked up by the Valkyrie."

"Valkyrie? What the fuck? I know America went down the toilet in its last years, but you'd have to be stark raving mad to believe in Valkyrie." A branch snapped to Valder's right, which caused heads to whip toward that direction — ostensibly also the direction of the front lines, such as they were. "Oh, shit," Valder groused when he saw the MG3.

"Vasco, what brings you over here?" The American asked.

"I could hear loudmouth from my dug-in position well enough that I could have sprayed you all down. That would not have been very sporting of me, I'd say," Vasco answered with a chuckle. "Greenhorn on deck!" the Colombian hitman half-shouted in jest, saluting the Dark General of Destruction.

"Wait, wait, let me get this straight, I'm supposed to be dead, but I'm not, and I was picked up by Valkyrie, which means...I am on Valhalla?" Valder Farkill asked plaintively.

"Welcome to the warrior's eternal scrap, so nice of you to join us," the American answered with a tinge of sarcasm. "Yes, you are in a very humorous version of Valhalla. We have everyone here, from the Vikings, to the Nazis, to schlubs like me from the Afghan War, to some really bizarre customers from the Inner Sphere, and a goodly smattering of hardasses from governments and nations I can't even begin to guess where they came from, but they bad mo-fos. We even have a wench in here that served with a mercenary outfit and pilots an Omnimech like nobody's business, Redmond was her name, I think."

"Aye, Kristen Redmond," the Viking attested.

"Dealt with her. Not the sociable type, but damn if she can't drop a Mobile Suit in seconds with her Mad Dog omni," Vasco confirmed. "She ate a rail gun slug to the face of her machine on some funky world. Hard shit, that."

"Oh, fuck," Valder groused. "I was...killed," he hesitated on the concept of his own mortality, though the three around him understood completely why he would. "Yes, I guess I was killed if I'm really on Valhalla. Anyways, I was killed by the same unit that Kristen came from, since they lost a pilot in the fashion you speak of."

"You got your ass beat by the Archangel Team? Nice," the American said. "Those hardasses have put quite a few guys in here, and more is the better, I'd say. We need the numbers."

"So, then, I am fated to fight the final battle of Existence," Valder smiled. "Who do I speak to about reclaiming my lost Gundam?"

"Give it a couple days, you'll find it," the American answered. "Until then, time for you to do some ground-pounding work." The American pulled his Beretta M9 and a pack of magazines for it. "Hope you know how to use it, at least until you can pick some weps from the dead."

The Dark General of Destruction chuckled grimly. If he really was on Valhalla, and the place regenerated everything overnight as the legend said, this was the perfect field for him to prove his nickname correct. On a daily basis.

---

Author's Chapter Afterword:

And now the chapters are moving at their proper pace again!

I figure I can do roughly one chapter a week if I cut out all my other BS / time-kill. Of course, I have no social life and can prove it mathematically, which makes it easier to write epic-length stories. More is the better; I am looking forward to concluding this one after some more sections and plenty of hijinks!

Now, onto the story. The major happening here is Barge. By knocking that out, Romefeller has no space options whatsoever. All they can do is take and hold territory on the planet, and that is not going to win them the war when they have poison pills laying about (Rebels, Sanc, Maganac, and Treize) as well as threat of White Fang coming down to kick some ass and take some names.

The second, and equally nasty happening of today's undercard match is the loss of the Lunar Base and the incomplete Libra battleship. Without the ability to manufacture new Mobile Dolls, there is no option for cohesive reinforcements for Romefeller, except the few remaining MS production facilities on Earth. That will make the coming insurrection just that much nastier for Romefeller.

Not much else to say about the chapter, except for the presence of Valder Farkill. Since this is an altered timeline of the AC Era, I am operating on the assumption that Oz Prize did not move against MO-V, they were disrupted by the sudden appearance of the Archangel and will factor into the story later. What is effectively The Last Outpost Gundam Wing Manga will never happen as it was written. Of course, since you are seeing Quinze's musings about Dekim Barton as well, you can expect Endless Waltz will play out wildly different as well. Let's just say I have an interesting way of going about disrupting the EW timeline in mind.

Oh, the fun we shall have as the story goes forward!

Not much else to say about this. I wanted it to be out last Friday, but I spent all week in training four counties away from home (roughly a total drive of 160 miles a day for a week) and had no real chance to do my usual writing routine. That is the hazard of being in a technical position: you will be sent out from time to time to do things like training and field work. Of course, a week delay is a paltry thing so long as all things are sorted out in the end...

That's it. Seriously, I mean it this time. NEXT UP: The Archangel returns to Earth and begins the ground operations in Russia, sweeping westward to crush the Romefeller threat and end it once for all. Who will win the final battle?

---

Review Replies: Another chapter, another 22 review replies. I love the feedback I am getting from people, ideas mixed with critique! Bring it ON! I want to hear YOUR thoughts!

Deathzealot: Nope, no update in a year, an update in a little less than a month.

On Heero, nope, the dice don't seem to be liking him at all. That may change, though.

The ship's crew is running thin right now, though at every stop they pick up salty recruits. Here will be no exception.

Takeshi Yamato: Always a pleasure to have an assist :)

On Dorothy, well, her story will definitely not end at the minor bits she has run here so far.

Infinite Freedom: Like I said, my neighbors would throw a shitfit if I used LPX to deal with gophers. Entertaining thought, regardless.

As to the character list going to join the ship, well, one of them should be fairly obvious, I'll leave the guessing for more than that up to you :)

C0dy88: The dice do weird things. I was expecting it to get a lot worse, but it went a bit easy for the Archangel. Such is life.

2ndsly: Gundam Wiki would be a decent start for background info. Sucks that you can't watch the shows directly. Have you tried Crunchyroll for the mangas?

One thing I have always considered a travesty is adding a variable (especially a big variable) to canon and then expecting things to work out the same. I don't think reality would work that way, so I go out of my way to make sure it works properly, ergo the ensuing history changes. Something of a pet-peeve of mine.

Damn good to hear you are doing better. Stay tuned for more!

Mega 1987: To some things, there simply is no response.

Necroblade: the Wiki is up, at least in proto, and I am slowly chewing through things I want to do with it. Slowly being the keyword.

Trayvs: To an extent I was inspired by the Odyssey, but I would say I was more inspired by an old 108 Stars of ANime fic I read years ago, a Suikoden / Anime xover mess that was never completed. So I decided to spin that concept (multiple and clearly dscordant anime series) into an Odyssey, which I had reread a month or two before I began AAA.

On this chapter, well, things look like they are going well for the Archangel. Good. Don't expect it to last too much into next chapter.

Knightwolf 1875: I am glad to be back in action on all my stories. I have missed doing the writing and I have missed working out these plots. I hope I can burn these down to completed someday soon, as well.

NEB Sparky 86: Thanks for the specs. Not sure exactly when or where I will use them, but any and all ideas are subject to use...eventually.

Dark Phoenix Jake: That may be what it takes to get rid of those little tunneling bastards, then.

I intend to start a Side Story on Natarle (with cameos from Flay) eventually. When I get into some of the hard side stories for JW or MMC, I will need an extra filler story to space chapters out.

Keep in mind, Romefeller tried to overwhelm them by the numbers. Terrain decided the battle; the heavily forested Scandinavian regions prevented them from maneuvering or massing properly. Sometimes, where you fight is far more important than what you bring to the fight.

CrystalFlower: Unfortunately, that was just a throw-in gag. The email in question does not exist in reality.

W. Cheff: With just as much sarcasm: YOU ARE WELCOME, AMIGO!

Knightowl 4183: I think I may have to do a 'Gomer in the spotlight' chapter to show you just how much of that is already in use in the Archangel.

As to destroyed units, rebuilding them is entirely possible already, but not needed. I believe I have covered this: reviving the Blitz Gundam would look good on paper, hell reviving the Warhawk would give them even more advantage, but time and resources are the hamper here. The Strike Freedom could build a complete Blitz Gundam using a subset of its internal repair systems, but it would take months to do so. We're not working in that kind of time frame...right now, at least.

Keep in mind, this story is a mirror of the Odyssey on psychotropic drugs. Odysseus did not have it easy in the Mediterranean, what makes you think I am going to make it easy for the Archangel when bouncing between dimensions?

Omnicron25: You are right, there is much potential for a tombstone in this area, given the factions and power-plays in effect here. Of course, this is the Archangel we are talking about. Things can go in many directions...

Flawless Cowboy 2552: Give Kira some time and he'll succumb to whimsy about all the records in the Strike Freedom. Then you need to start fearing...

The nanomachines can do that, but in most cases it would be a step backwards. It would also take weeks or months to do for most of the machines.

Rune Gods don't need no stinkin' armor, amigo. They're tough hombres right now, and though not evident, their defenses have been improving.

Mordalfus Grea: No points for guessing right, especially when I made it painfully obvious. On the other thought, shhhhh, don't give the author ideas, he might use them :)

Knives 91: Damn glad to be back, actually. Hope this chapter is more 'good stuff' for your diet!

Myers Nathaniel: I keep the comedy of the matter as a silent bonus for the readers.

Myers Nataniel (Review 2): Continuing the conversation in PM, well, suffice it to say that I DO NOT play by anybody's rules except real-world logic. Your assumption that Athrun is the only person for the Justice / Infinite Justice assumes that Athrun actually had said Gundam. That event NEVER OCCURRED. Thus, Athrun has been floating from machine to machine since the destruction of the Aegis, which is expected. Right now he pilots the Mercurius; next week, it may be something else. Depends on what the dice do to his existing machine, and what comes available for use at a later time. Do not assume that canon is in play here, and do not base your assumptions of right or wrong pilot assignments on the principles of canon monogamy. I have no intention of playing that way.

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! Looking forward to hearing from you in the next chapter!

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The Gripe Sheet:

No outstanding gripes from the last chapter. Thanks due to Necroblade and Takeshi Yamato for editing my prose and calling me on logic FUBAR!

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Footnotes:

(1): Rapier and Main Gauche is a pattern of weapons common in 17th and 18th century Europe among commoners and nobility, but less so for military purposes. The Rapier is the offensive implement, the Main Gauche (A defensive dagger) is used mostly to block incoming attacks.

(2): Battle Dress Uniform, the standard clothing worn by troops in the field or on training operations. Designed to be light, flexible, and have plenty of room for carrying personal gear.

(3): Contrary to movie / television physics, military units (properly-engineered units) commonly have a fire retardant cellular baffle in their fuel tanks to prevent a wildcat explosion of their fuel tanks should they be damaged in combat. Generally the only time they would explode is if they took catastrophic damage to the entire fuel tank all at once, which if that happens the unit has other and more pressing problems to worry about besides a trifling little fuel explosion.

(4): Security Protection Officer, the technical name for a bodyguard.