"Whats that?" Miriallia asked, rubbing groggily at her eyes. Even in the slightly more spacious cockpit of the Grand Buster, it had been a hell of a trip, with emphasis on hell. She loved Dearka. A lot. She thought he was very interesting, she loved his stories, his jokes, his tall tales. She even liked just looking at him when he wasn't looking back, just watching him work, flying the huge machine through the air. But after close to twenty four consecutive hours trapped in what amounted to a room four feet wide by eight feet long by five feet tall... she was ready to finish the job she'd almost stared all that time ago on the Archangel. It wasn't that he was intentionally annoying... on the contrary, his increasingly forced cheerfulness was all in an effort to make her feel better. But it was failing miserably.
Having an increasing negative effect actually. She was actually starting to get a handle on why Ysak detested Dearka at times... which was a breathtaking feat by any estimation, since Ysak's way of thinking was quite alien to her. Dearka had finally stopped babbling jokes and stories about a half hour ago, perhaps even wearing out his seemingly endless repetoire of amusment. She'd been so glad of the silence that she almost said something... but that would have started him off on a whole new track. So instead she'd dozed off... only to be rudely re-awoken by the buzzing and flashing of her radar scope.
"What's what?" Dearka asked back, jerking himself into a more wakeful state. He shook his head and blinked his eyes, wishing the enormous headache he had would go away. The fog slowly lifted from his mind... he'd been in a nearly trance like state for the past few hours, ever since the last rest break, which he hadn't really recovered from. He winced... he must have been babbling gibberish for the best part of four hours. He hoped he hadn't said anything too stupid, but he honestly could not recall much after taking off from the shoreline after a quick meal of warmed up noodles served from the mini kitchen on Alkire's jet. Even the incessant battles he'd been in during the latter part of the war hadn't worn him out this much. But it wasn't like a mobile suit was exactly designed for long range flights... that was what submarine carriers and land battleships and space cruisers were for... covering the vast distances between battles. The sooner they got to the Archangel the better. Even if not all his memories of that ship were entirely pleasant.
"I've got contacts on the LRR." Mir replied, reseating herself into a more upright position. She pulled one of the three keyboards available to her down onto her lap and started typing in commands. It had been an ordeal, getting used to all the new systems... at least at first. Now, after more than a week of practice and drill under Dearka's casually sarcastic and critical eyes, she'd found that it really wasn't that much different from what she'd done on the Archangel, if more involved. She was by no means a Coordinator... she couldn't type on two different boards while looking at a totally unrelated screen all at the same time like Dearka could... but she could cycle between keyboards and display screens fast enough so that he didn't get too far ahead of her. Quickly the LRR image resolved from a series of blips into more accurate sensor profiles, each with little tags displaying vector, size, heat levels and estimated configuration. "I make preliminary contact at eight military vehicles, half tracks likely, moving full speed across the desert towards us... current position twenty five miles ahead, along our path of flight."
Dearka was about to reply when her screen blinked again and a pop up window of the radar scope appeared. "More contacts, behind the half tracks, maybe a mile or two miles behind them at the most and closing rapidly. From their heat signatures they appear to be mobile suits... checking configurations... come on you stupid computer... four BuCue's and one unknown model. Bipedal, looks to be fast and maneuverable, likely some form of scout." Mir was proud of how calm her voice was... this looked like trouble if she ever saw it.
"How'd they get so close with that radar of yours going? Fall asleep at the switch or something?" Alkire asked as he veered his jet up and to the side, ready to get the heck out of any potential combat zone.
"They're on the ground, and the desert doesn't exactly help heat scanning, you know. This machine may have top of the line sensors, but flying at an altitude of five thousand feet doesn't exactly make it easy to use radar on ground targets. If they were birds I probably could have told you what species they were from a hundred miles away." Mir answered testily. Criticism from Dearka was okay... she was still touchy about other people ragging on her though.
"Hey, hey, just checking. Didn't mean nothing by it." Alkire said quickly, sharing a smile with Vlad. She was picking up professional pride quite rapidly... good for her. It would only enhance her performance if she felt like she had something to prove. "So what do we want to do? Just go around like the last two combat zones? It'll only add like thirty minutes to the flight."
"Bring 'em on... I need to break something." Ysak muttered irritably.
"Can you get any more information on the vehicles or mobile suits?" Kira asked.
"Hold on, Kira, I'll run a more detailed scan." Mir replied. With a minute of furious tapping she had uncovered a lot more data... and it was enough to get her back on the line to everyone else with urgency. "All right, we don't have much time... the vehicles are from the Earth Alliance... probably fleeing Gibraltar. The mobiles suits pursuing them are a recon patrol from ZAFT. The patrol is currently firing on the convoy... two of the trailing vehicles have been destroyed in just the last minute. In another five minutes the ZAFT patrol will catch up to the convoy and well... then there won't be a convoy. ZAFT does not seem interested in taking prisoners."
Kira, quite predictably, did not take too long to assimilate that data. "I'm going. It isn't right to shoot at defenseless fleeing enemies... especially without giving them a chance to surrender."
"It may not be right... but it's a lot safer than shooting at combat ready enemies..." Victor whispered to Alkire and Vlad, who both nodded agreement.
"Are you sure that is a good idea, kid?" Alkire asked. "I mean, no matter how good you are, they're going to get off communications when they see you. Then ZAFT is going to know we're all in the area... and they won't leave us alone. In fact I'd be really surprised if they didn't come out in force to greet us, if you know what I mean."
"We haven't done anything to get ZAFT angry with us!" Cagalli protested.
"We haven't done a whole hell of a lot to make them like us either." Athrun said quietly. "Given how all of us... most of us... have fought either directly or indirectly against ZAFT at some point in time... indeed are likely responsible for denying ZAFT ultimate victory during the last war... I don't expect to be greeted warmly."
"And Ysak and I are technically deserters now... given that we pretty much told ZAFT high command to shove it up a dark place when we deleted their return orders. I can't imagine they'll be willing to forgive and forget so soon." Dearka added.
"And then there is always me to consider... you'll all likely be shot on charges of association with a mass murderer the moment they find out who the hell I am." Vlad said, almost relishing his moroseness.
"I know all that." Kira said. "But I will not let those soldiers get killed. I swore I would do all I could to stop this war and I can hardly keep that promise by letting those soldiers die. The rest of you don't have to help... I really don't expect that level of resistance anyway."
"You know... if I hadn't reviewed your combat battle data... I'd say you were too cocky, kid." Alkire responded. He paused a moment. He had reviewed that data though. "See you soon. Try not to overwhelm them too badly." Kira waved an acknowledgement with the Liberty's arm and dropped into an spiralling dive that had him leveling out a bare hundred feet above the desert floor. Alkire winced at the gravity snap that pulled Kira out of the dive-roll-spiral... the kid must have pulled a good five G with that little stunt... and even strapped into a high stress capable cockpit... that wasn't something Alkire would have done so casually. Or at all... unless he was in life threatening danger. But therein lay the gulf between his piloting abailities and tolerances and Kira's. Alkire was about a good a pilot as a Natural could hope to be... but Kira was light years ahead of him.
Kira brought his displays up to full combat readiness, bringing his weapons online and his sensors to maximum efficiency. He typed in the command that activated the desert heat deflection controls for his beam weapons... he was forewarned this time, and he didn't really feel like reprogramming the OS during the middle of a battle again. He'd really been lucky those first few times... the Gundam had been enough of an unknown that the enemy had not been able to take full advantage of his split attention. If he'd had to do that during the latter half of the war he would probably be dead right now... blown apart by one of those three Earth Forces Gundams controlled by Blue Cosmos. He activated the Angel Halo in favor of charging the Gugnir cannon... better to focus on defense... he didn't need to get unlucky... very unlucky maybe... and get damaged during this time of need, with adequate repair facilities half a world away at the closest. Besides... even though he cautioned himself against overconfidence... he'd faced odds much, much greater than four BuCue's and one recon model before, and that was in the Freedom or the Strike... the Liberty was superior to both.
The convoy appeared on his threat display screen, he switched them from neutral yellow to friendly green, just so no accidents would occur. More yellow icons appeared, the mobile suits pursuing the convoy, which was still about two miles ahead, out of sight behind some dunes, though their dust trail was quite visible. Kira toggled them to red enemy icons, though he deeply regretted having to regard ZAFT as the enemy again. But they were the clear aggressors in this situation, and his goal in this conflict was to take down all agressors so that the peacable folks like Lacus and Cagalli could get the world to wake up and realize what a mistake they were making. He elected to use the beam sabers... that way there was much less chance of stray shots causing problems for the convoy. His jaw tightened as one of the green icons suddenly blinked off... destroyed by the mobile suits no doubt, who were by now almost caught up to the convoy. Kira kicked his afterburners just a little harder, squeezing that precious extra second or two out of them. He needed every little instant of time.
Mr. Yamato was just about ready to throw in the towel. Three days of non stop pursuit through the desert, driving in shifts, refueling on the move, brief instants of bowl clenching terror as one patrol after another of ZAFT forces caught up to them and destroyed the nearly regiment strong convoy of armored vehicles that had originally escaped from Gibraltar. He'd thought there was saftey in numbers... but he'd been wrong. Tanks and missile trucks were just too far outclassed by mobile suits... especially the invisible ones. He now hated mobile suits with all the passion a totally helpless ground pounder could... but he reserved a special amount of hatred for those damned invisible ones... until they vomited killing flame you'd never know they were right on top of you!
You had a slight chance if you heard their engine noise and could see the dust devils they kicked up, but that was very difficult when driving at max speed through the desert with no shocks... their half track threw up a small sandstorm of dust just by itself and the noise of its rapidly degenerating engine drowned out all sound quieter than bomb explosions from more than ten feet away. Add to that similar noises and dust clouds from the fighting vehicles all around them and you were lucky if you could see twenty feet in front of you and ten behind, and hear the person next to you scream in terror. He'd heard a lot of those screams over the last few days. Along with too many horrible death shrieks as people were blown apart, lacerated by shrapnel or had the skin melted off their bones.
This was the third patrol to come after them and their convoy had dwindled from more than fifty tanks, missile trucks, half tracks and jeeps to just two half tracks, one tank and five jeeps. Three of the jeeps had been destroyed in the last five minutes, and the tank was now last in line, turret pointing backward, gun pounding shot after desperate shot of 75mm armor piercing shells at the BuCue's that were steadily bounding closer through the dust cloud. They were barely a half mile back now. The tank fire had no discernable effect on the BuCue's... most of the shots missed and even the ones that hit did little more than dent and scratch the armor plating of the mobile suits. The same could not be said of the return fire, which was accurate and totally deadly. Twin greenish energy beams lanced out from the lead BuCue, one lasering into a jeep and turning the vehicle into an instant cloud of red hot debris, the other melting a deep runnel of molten slag through the engine compartment and turret of the tank, which slewed out of control and tipped on its side as it started to burn.
No one got out... all likely had been melted into their seats by the heat of the liquefying tank armor. Seconds later the tank shell pumped and bloated before bursting like a melon filled with high explosive as its shells cooked off and detonated. A small piece of white hot metal... a shard of a rivet or screw, laid Mr. Yamato's forehead open to the bone as it winged past. He sat down suddenly, too shocked to even yell. Mrs. Yamato saw the wound and immediately used some of their precious stock of bandages to bind it up. It wasn't serious by the standards of their current situation... but it was no minor cut either.
It was in this position, half lying down in the back of a run down half track, with perhaps three minutes left in his life by an optimistic estimation, being attended to by his wife while Mr. Haw drove for all he was worth and Mr. Argyle screamed for aid that would never arrive in time over the short range radio that Mr. Yamato saw the angel. He blinked. He'd had no idea Angels were so large. And so fast. And armored in metal with huge thrusters on the back and bristling with wicked looking weapons. But the golden glow was there... a halo of pure light. There was a flash of pinkish fire as the Angel-thing drew a blazing sword of power and sliced into the BuCue's. There was much rending of metal and shriek of protesting drive systems as the BuCue's tried to get out of the path of the avenging Angel... though it didn't seem like they had much success to Mr. Yamato's ears.
He struggled up to get a better view and gasped in numbed incomprehension. Three of the four BuCue's were now missing heads, forelimbs and gun turrets. The last was currently in the middle of twisting around to fire at the Angel... a mobile suit totally unfamiliar to Mr. Yamato, which changed position so smoothly and easily that it seemed it moved sideways in midair to dodge the beams of heat energy. It's retaliation was rapid and straight to the point, the BuCue was suddenly lying in two pieces, both sides spurting smoke and sparks from the bisecting cut.
Mr. Haw and the rest of the convoy swerved to stunned stops. Four mobile suits had been disabled or destroyed in less than ten seconds. It was like diving into a pool of ice water... they could barely deal with the shock of not being pursued. They should have kept going. The last remaining jeep suddenly disappeared in a crunch of twisting metal. The four people in it didn't even have time to yell... they had not seen their death coming. The people in the half tracks couldn't see it either... the Mirage Colloid technology was quite effective at hiding the Efreet from all forms of detection, visual senses included. The pilot was quite shaken at having his teammates so suddenly destroyed... though he was relieved and a little puzzled to hear that none had been killed, despite their mobile suits being trashed. He swiveled his back beam cannons to point at the unknown enemy mobile suit, which looked more than a bit like the Freedom, while his arm flame projectors each targeted one of the remaining half tracks.
He keyed his long range communications. "This is Shinn Askusa, leader of Team Askusa, in Efreet two four zero. My team has encountered and been attacked by an unknown mobile suit. Sending data file now..." his comm dissolved in static. He was being jammed. He narrowed his eyes and opened up on the enemy with his beam cannons. Whatever it was was clearly a top of the line model, custom built for its pilot. His Efreet was one of the newest PLANT models in existence and he was totally outclassed by the other. Even though he was invisible he couldn't get more than a slight advantage over the other, who moved so quickly and fluidly that his machine seemed to dance rather than fly.
Kira gritted his teeth in concentration. He couldn't see the enemy. His sensors could not see the enemy. Just about the only warning he had was gut instinct and the brief flicker of the Mirage Colloid particles parting before the beam shots as they left the cannon barrels of the enemy. Most people would have been dead already, defeated by an enemy they could not detect. If he hadn't had some experience fighting against its like during the last war, fighting against Nichole, he'd probably have already taken damage. And not only was the enemy invisible of course, but the pilot was pretty damned good too. And he knew how to fight to his own advantages. He was staying near the two half tracks, so close that Kira could not just saturate the area with weapons fire in hopes of disrupting the Colloid field.
Or maybe he could... he skipped the Liberty backward a few meters and disengaged the Angel Halo. Pausing only a quarter second to wish himself luck, Kira fired the Gugnir cannon. The cone shaped blast effect killed the half track's primitive guidance systems and they shut down in messes of sparks and cracked LCD's. He also half caught the enemy, enough to scramble it's Mirage Colloid and half disable it. But only half disable it... its beam cannons may have been off line, but it brought up both arms and slots in the palms irised open before belching sheets of blue and white hot flame. Almsot instantly the interior temperature of the cockpit climbed thirty degrees and kept going. Kira did his best to ignore it... he'd survived re-entry before, he could take this.
Shinn kept the heat on, quite literally, though his own internal temperature levels were starting to reach critical levels as well. He couldn't believe how much punishment the enemy suit was taking... he'd put enough plasma flame on it to melt a similar sized chunk of tempered titanium into a pool of slag. But no matter that, all he had to do was keep it in the fire for a little while longer and the pilot would have to succumb to heat injury... Shinn himself was feeling woozy and he was the one putting the flame on, not taking it. Incredibly the enemy turned more squarely to face him, it's shoulder mounted weapons coming into firing position and orienting on him.
Before Shinn could even curse they had both fired, disintegrating both arms of the Efreet and throwing him spinning through the air to crash and roll along the ground. Blood dripping from broken nose and split lip, Shinn tried to get the Efreet back on its feet. He didn't have a prayer. Before he got halfway up the hyper beam cannon weapons flashed again and atomized both legs below the knee, sending the Efreet toppling back onto its face, a helpless quadripalegic. Shinn winced and waited for the fiery flash that would likely spell the end for him. It never came. His screens went to static and he had several hours to brood on why he had survived in the oven hot cockpit before the ZAFT rescue team arrived to cut him out of the wrecked Efreet. He swore he'd get stronger. He wouldn't be so humiliated again. Not by a machine that reminded him so much of the one that had already cost him so much.