Disc: I don't own the Gundam Verse. This is an AU using its conventions and nothing more.

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Phase 02: Clash

'Let it be known that this treaty of non-interaction and all of its legal offshoots remain concrete so long as all parties involved agree to follow it. If the governing body of any House or Nation is ever to knowingly violate it, they shall from then on receive no further protection from it.' –Paragraph 14c of the Anno Domino Basis for Arbitration of Law

- - -

Trying his best to appear distracted to the point of absence, Admiral Heim Temeritus of Shyron studied the situation unfolding around his group of five war cruisers closely, as well as those forces their opposition had managed to rally against them.

It wasn't much of an obstacle really, but considering how little time they'd had to prepare, and how few their weapons, Temeritus found himself feeling a kind of detached respect for the captain in charge of this supply convoy. A legalized clone, no doubt.

While initially shocked- and with good reason- by the attack, the captain had immediately ordered the floundering, clumsy supply ships into a sort of reversed dome formation, arranging them so that any of the Shyron war cruisers- even the flagship upon whose bridge he stood, the Blood Grudge- would be unable to advance without coming within range of multiple ships at once, facing the ship's captain with several choices of who to fire at.

Of course, this did not help them at all against the nimble craft that were perhaps Shyron's most exclusive advantage in any battle- the Valkyries. By his count, each ship here had carried ten of them- two flights worth each, making for a total of fifty. Swarming the barges as they were doing now, they seemed even more numerous.

He took in all of this in utter silence, only a few muffled explosions to punctuate the silence on Blood Grudge's bridge. The majority of his crew were not busy, having no targets in range yet, but they were only fidgeting in their seats, having been fooled by his act of being totally absorbed in the tactical situation, looking for some new stratagem- as if they needed advice from the legendary tactical genius to win such an uneven contest!

All of them did not look his way, except for one. His consort, Vice Admiral Mokno Parker. The tall, bald young man who would have been the master of this operation if Shyron had not had the shining household name of Heim Temeritus on its otherwise dismal combat roster.

Parker did not bear him a grudge for that. Military discipline towards superiors aside, he was at least partway as indoctrinated by Temeritus' ancient myth of invincibility as his crew was. Still, the simple fact that he had discussed the plan for the ambush openly spoke of the man's ability to ignore the veteran officer and think for himself, even if he always seemed nervous and sweaty in doing so.

"Mini-shuttle flight reports successful capture, sir," one crewer, even younger than Parker, spoke up from the west side of the row of seats. "Three units confirmed. They're bringing them in now. Standing by."

"Excellent", he commented, once again acting, trying to sound casual about the whole affair. "Assign Valkyrie flight Theta to guard the shuttles in case of any surprises- those are the reason we came all the way out here to begin with, we don't want to lose them. Order all the rest to gradually ease up their pursuit and firing..."

Parker had moved up from his spot at the back of the bridge, and Temeritus felt something in his gaze he had not felt since the exile of his people some thirty years ago- someone actually doubting the intelligence of his moves. It felt wonderful, but the sensation was dulled by the fact that Parker, ever the unflappable disciplinarian, was only questioning his habit of explaining his orders to everyone within earshot when he had the time to, rather than a simple command. No doubt many of the newcomers had learned to fear Parker's beady hundred-yard stare.

As for his own appearance, Temeritus had always considered himself blessed. His hair, while gray, was shiny, healthy, and plentiful as he could ask for, arranged in a tall flat top above his sky blue eyes that carried out behind the head into dozens of thick tails down the neck. Combined with his obvious physical fitness, he and the young Captain apprenticing under him were an odd contrast indeed.

"It looks like the Peacecraft agent succeeded", he spoke gently to Parker, changing the subject. "I wonder if he ejected before we showed up."

If that was the case, then that agent was doomed to freeze to death in space no matter how good their EV suit was. They hadn't brought all this firepower out here on a whim, of course. They had been given clear instructions from Intelligence to arrive at the intercept point early, giving them time to attack, and destroy two rather pretty commercial vessels belonging to the Birthright House of Peacecraft.

No doubt at all that their commander had cursed his birth House's solemn oath against all forms of lethal weaponry before his body was incinerated. Sure, Temeritus thought smugly, the fancy EMP wave-generators they had faced looked nice, but pitting stun weapons against the real thing was suicidal in most cases... Such as today.

From there it had been easy to deduce the plot they were now hijacking. The House of Peacecraft had obviously intercepted news of a new, type of weapon being developed by Daravon Engineering Systems; a well beloved of the Anno Domino legion if ever there was one. They had done so in secret, without the permit of the majority of Houses. From what he knew, Peacecraft had planted a covert agent on the innocuous little convoy carrying the special weapon, had the agent eject the machines out into space mid-flight.

Right near the sun. That, to him, was the interesting part of it. The discussable part. The House of Peacecraft, for all its faults, took care of its own historically. Yet no one outside that oddball little pacifist nation could truly say whether the ships had been there to retrieve the weapon as well as their agent. And now their trap had become Shyron's trap.

Just as well, he mused after laying curious eyes upon the special units for the very first time. Those three look promising. Well crafted. Bipedal tanks, it looks like, possibly for suppressing ground riots…

In fact, he was looking right at the blue one when it raised its right arm, and put a plasma carbine shot directly through the cockpit of the shuttle that carried it.

Right on cue, the old danger senses the Masters had imbedded into him long ago were on fire. "Heads up", he barked down to his crew of rookies. "One of those units has a saboteur in it. The Peacecraft agent, maybe? No…he wouldn't have fired. Assign Valkyrie flight Gamma to cover the surviving shuttles. Now!"

He couldn't take his eyes off it, even as Theta flight's five machines readjusted to pace themselves firmly between the live unit and the two haulers and their cargo. In combat mode, the bipedal machine clearly displayed each of its primary weapons. Sprouting from the reflective-silver back plate, two big coal black wings that effectively guarded a full half of its exposed frame. On the rounded shoulders, two double missile launchers. Upon the 'belt', two small bronze cylinders he couldn't identify. Integrated into the right arm, an extremely large plasma buster with three barrels, and each one twice the thickness of a lamppost.

Then those barrels began to spin, the wings to elongate into propelled flight. And Temeritus knew beyond a doubt now that this machine was certainly not created for ground combat. Its broad wingspan flexed as though alive, helping the thrusters that laced their back edges kick the bipedal machine up to speeds rivaling the Valkyries it now faced.

In the blink of an eye, two of the Valkyries were incinerated by the circular buster arm, while the survivors frantically fired off their missiles before regrouping around the shuttles. The wings now wrapped around the frame like a cloak that the machine tucked its blue arms into, shrugging off the handful of missile hits while glowing with a strange purple aura.

The way it moves, so natural… like a giant space suit, conforming to the user's movements… it's like a second skin! Temeritus sharply regained his breath as Captain Parker began to sidle up to him in worry. As fascinating at this was, he had to remind himself that it was the enemy who was piloting this one. That machine had just killed four people under his command, young pilots who had been led to believe this mission would be easy.

He motioned to Gamma flight as it closed, gauging the distance in his head. "Not good. That pilot is desperate to keep us from capturing the other two units, and now I can understand why. Instruct Kyoto to move to retrieve the shuttles, and the Renmazou to spray the hostile sector." That would speed up the recovery of the haulers, as well as protect them with a hail of laser energy any sensible pilot would think twice about flying into.

He would finish commanding this unexpected fight as best he could to save face. But he swore to himself to never again underestimate the power and speed of a Mobile Suit.

- - -

A sensation of heat from somewhere behind him was Bryce's first warning. In the time it took him to flip the machine around- exactly the same way he would twist his own body around to look at something- the storm of fire from the closest Shyron war cruiser had filled the space separating him and his destination. He'd allowed the Valkyries to draw him into battle with them, with one group offering itself to him and the other one tagging him from behind with small lasers.

Outside, the dogfight with Gamma flight continued. Inside, Bryce had mixed feelings about the development. On one level, he had never expected the Peregrine's trial run to yield such quick results. He was a DES chief designer, not some ace pilot… but the results spoke for themselves; three Shyron Valkyries and one shuttle lay strewn about space, dead.

On another level, he felt a building sense of frustration. He could even see the two shuttles through the green haze of laser fire… but pursuing them into a war cruiser's immediate zone of firepower would destroy even a Mobile Suit of this caliber. Already, the craft that had taken the Rana was passing out of sight, and towards another war cruiser. He had, in all likelihood, failed to stop them from absconding with DES's most important project in years.

Unless… There was no time to question why such an inventive yet suicidal move had suddenly popped into his head. He merely knew it would work. Something was telling him to do it Pulling the wings taut by force, he absently shot one more Valkyrie out of space and zipped towards the source of the blasts.

The dagger-shaped Renmazou, like other war cruisers and capital ships of its type, initially appeared as nothing but a great lake-sized slab of armored metal, with engines sticking out the back and weapons affixed symmetrically at various spots. Avoiding these ships' slow but powerful weapons in combat had been the primary purpose of creating the MS units… or at least, that was what he had guessed. Only the top brass of the Anno Domino legion corps could say for sure.

Bryce worriedly resisted the urge to pull the wings over the frame, knowing he would need every ounce of the maneuverability they offered to survive. The time has come to find out if my guess was right. If not, I am so very, very dead.

Then he was among the main batteries of Renmazou, dodging and darting every which way to avoid the heavy weaponry mounted on the prow as they illuminated space around him with massive columns made of the neon green light of death. This close in, one could see the very windows and bays of the massive cruiser, and on occasion even the people within. He caught a passing glimpse of one rather startled bridge officer that looked a bit like Umil with his small, squinty eyes and short stature, then tore past that area, clearing the main artillery section.

Not bad. He'd given the gunnery crews fits providing such a nimble target, but hadn't fired a single shot in return… and now he could see by the bright flares erupting back the way he had come that those big beams hadn't been meant for him- the bridge of one of the cargo barges was now an expanding sphere of light. Which one? The Captain's?

No time now. The shuttles were just ahead of him, closing on a more broad-based cruiser to slip into its docking bays even as Valkyries poured into them by the score. Still more flew about the supposed 'safe zone', giving their lives to give the shuttles a clear path.

He had just set up a shot with the triple buster arm when space flared brightly again; this time, all around him as the second cruiser's guns opened up. One beam grazed the left leg before he could do anything, sending the machine tumbling end-over-end until he was looking at the Renmazou's guns again. Upside down.

It's over. Bryce reeled in terror. The Valkyrie flights are coming in for the kill. One MS Unit against a whole fleet, what the hell were you thinking?

As if summoned by his despair, four fresh machines now launched from Renmazou's bay, aiming for him. Beyond his immediate vicintity, another barge burst into flames…

And then two of the Valkyries exploded, just like that. The other two wheeled off in a panic, and Bryce caught sight of the machine that had saved him.

While familiar in shape, he had never seen it in all his research- Bryce would have remembered a behemoth like this for the rest of his days. White armor, pale like a ghost, occasionally interrupted by blood-red joint coverings, and small connecting beams holding the arms aloft as they fired. A concave, helmeted face, framed by two active Vulcan guns and what looked like horns on top. While the left arm held one weapon; a black cylinder beneath a thick protective gauntlet, the right was nothing but a mass of pearly metal shaped like razor-edged swan feathers, ending in a focus-lens barrel roughly the size of the Peregrine's entire head assembly.

It was an MS unit. And it certainly wasn't any of his.

- - -

"What the hell is that?"

Fortunatley, Temeritus was not expecting an answer from any of his crew any times soon- they were struck speechless as he was.

The new arrival, after having somehow snuck up on them from the relative 'up' of space, now floating in the main window as if taunting them with its size alone. Thanks to quick action on the part of the Kyoto's commander, he had cornered the first rogue MS, had personally dispatched a returning flight to deal the death blow. The new arrival had not only drawn all eyes on both sides from the smaller unit, but had vaporized two of the offending craft with only two shots from its head vulcans!

It was only the beginning. As Temeritus caught Parker's astonishment, the white MS turned and casually annihilated the other two Valkyries. All four pilots dead, and weighing in on the Admiral's heart with the others.

Over the din of the mounting damage and casualty reports, Parker spotted his idol moving for the main communications console, and actually pushing one bewildered ensign out of the way when the military hand signs failed to shut them up.

For the moment unable to do anything more about their crisis, Parker shook his head; these young ladies and men might have been his kin in the House of Shyron, but they were no soldiers. Knowing the protocols, Parker replaced the admiral at the helm, trying to bring some semblance of an organized retreat to what was rapidly turning into a chaotic rout.

Since the initial appearance of the new, larger MS unit, the original target had seemed reluctant to move. As Parker watched closely, the machine's pilot shook it off and headed after the new arrival.

His heart leapt- the winged MS had just fired its buster at the new one! Granted, it didn't seem to make a difference- the white MS easily blunted the shot with the cluster of pearl feathers that made up its right arm, and then turned back to vaporizing three more Valkyries, firing off three of the dozens of feathers like large dagger-shaped rockets.

"You heard me! Cut all the Comm feeds and back out!", his idol was still yelling hoarsely over those very feeds, "That maniac's got a Slave Drive on him, and he's using it to control-"

Then he saw the ship the admiral was yelling at. Too late, he knew Temeritus had caught what he and his crew had all missed. Their bulky carrier ship Counterstriker, previously assigned to the rear to let the ships with greater firepower take point, had been gradually moving forward to the epicenter of the fight. Slowly but steadily, enough so that it wouldn't be noticed by the civilian crew… if what Temeritus said was true…

While bellowing his own orders to pull out, Parker's eyes locked onto the culprit again. By now, most of the Valkyrie flights had gotten wise enough to leave him alone, but two radiant sources of glowing fire still opposed the new machine- the Counterstriker's own sparse beam and missile weaponry, and the other MS unit. Both were frantically blasting away at the white MS, both momentarily unified in trying to avert what its pilot had set into motion.

"Cut all feeds for the war cruisers too", Temeritus was saying, far more locally. "They have their instructions for the rendezvous point, and Slave Drive computers are so old that no one would expect one like that attacking them."

"Uh… sir?", one of the youngest looking crewers interrupted, pointing. "Look out there."

Because of that direction, both men had the scene burned into their recollection forever. The second MS turned towards the ship it had manipulated into its path, exposed, still recalling its remaining Valkyries flights, and holding a minimum of two-point-five thousand crewers, officers, engineers and pilots, as opposed to Blood Grudge's flat thousand. They saw the bipedal machine draw the metal cylinder in its left arm back like an old hand grenade. Slowly, tauntingly, lazily… then it swung the cylinder forward as it erupted into a burst of extremely bright red light- and created a line of that same light straight down the middle of the Counterstriker.

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Bryce stared from the Peregrine's seat at the redline with terror equaling only his enemies on the Blood Grudge, watched as the Counterstriker cracked in two from the slash, and its crew met their heated deaths.

"No… No!"

The weapon manifested by the new MS was clearly discernible now. Another breakthrough designed for the MS project, the lethal handheld beam weapons such as Peregrine's beam daggers and Rana's beam glaive were meant expressly for the purpose they'd just witnessed- inflicting heavy damage on capital ships once an MS got in close enough.

Yet if this weapon was indeed a sword, then it was by far the longest and most flexible one he had ever seen. Easier to call the trailing stream of energy a beam whip, as that was what it reminded him most of. The absurd length of the bright red whip had not diluted its power at all- it had cut right through the ship without slowing down. Now the last of the resulting explosions were consuming the carrier utterly, leaving only two mansion-sized chunks of metal hanging there in space.

A new churning sensation struck Bryce that had nothing to do with the high velocity maneuvers he'd been taking the MS through. Even if it was of his design, that whip was a beam weapon exactly like the ones he'd shifted through for the other three models. The weapons he'd designed personally, never even sparing a thought to what they were for. The same could be said for the majority of the weapons set before him now. He clenched at the controls for the buster, for the beam daggers, for the launchers, as if seeing the bare truth of them for the very first time.

Blood Grudge woke him up. It came on with its sudden salvo of blasts, directed towards the white MS and nearly hitting Bryce. No, he wailed inside his head in despair, not them too! This isn't a battle, it's a massacre!

"Stop iiiit!"

Drawing his own beam weapons without thought, he charged the pale white MS as well, even if it meant placing himself into Blood Grudge's firing zone. The daggers manifested themselves as twin pinpoints of bright violet energy moments before crashing into their opposite number. Just as he expected- as he had intended- holding onto the daggers through such an impact was much like holding two real daggers while one attacked a massive sword-wielder.

Both suits danced between the big beams, paying each one only enough concentration to avoid them cleanly, while dedicating the rest of their attention to slashing away at each other. "Why do this?", Bryce yelled over his short-range headset after a particularly heated exchange. "You're not from Anno Domino or the House of Shyron! Why did you kill those people?!"

While a big part of him expected no response, he leapt up in his seat after the response cut across his aud/vis reciever bands. It's pilot was an older male by the sound of the shrieking laughter that assaulted his ears, and completely mad if he was to be any judge. What followed that sounded like pure nonsense at first:

"Ahaha… ha… follow the purpose. Follow the equation! I hear it! It shows me the way, just as it shows you! But I see yours isn't complete yet… continue to fight! Complete the flawless equation!"

Who is this kook?

No answers came, and the next hit was perfectly timed, forcing Bryce backwards as the other MS incinerated his missiles with its beam whip. He aimed the buster arm, but the white feather missiles had already targeted his weapon before it was even active, brutally knocking it aside as well. Stunned, Bryce retreated backward… directly into the Blood Grudge's beams. In one single instant, he felt searing pain that ended with Peregrine's feet no longer existing.

Descending upon his helpless prey, the white MS gently but menacingly whirled its whip around the chest cockpit area of the Peregrine, but then thought better of it. "Keep at it, little one", the shattered voice came to his ears again, sounding a bit more stable this time, "it has been lonely being the only one blessed with the future's equation. Listen for it, and it will find you!"

On that note, it jetted for the outer reaches of the battle, destroying each and every Valkyrie that blocked it, and laughing all the way.

- - -

"Cease fire and join the fleet", the admiral breathed shallowly. "Anno Domino should be on its way by now. Captain…I owe this crew my apologies for not thinking clearly."

Mokra Parker looked up from the blinking damage displays, as surprised as his junior crewers. "Absolutely not the case, sir", he spoke across the bridge area with an emphasized tone of courteousy. "No one here even suspected that new Mobile Suit would have a Slave Drive, sir. You are being too hard on yourself."

"There was something off about that one", Temeritus was still mumbling angrily to himself as he stalked away from the main window. "I don't give a damn how skilled a pilot laughing-boy was, by all rights he should have been atomized by our barrage. I don't understand… anyway, instruct the others to throttle back at waypoint 52-19. We'll proceed to the rendevous point from there. You have the bridge, captain."

While duty called, Parker truly wanted to follow his idol back to his quarters. It wasn't his fault, the pale-faced man repeated again in his mind. That machine- no, both of those Mobile Suits- were as maneuverable as our special Valkyries and as heavily armed as a private army. We had no hint of any such resistance coming here.

The only thing he could truly fault Temeritus for was losing control after the Counterstriker had been obliterated. He had ordered a full salvo against the pale white MS in a frenzied rush, as it trying to prove to himself that the machines were not unbeatable. That had placed the entire crew of the Blood Grudge at risk while the rest retreated, but everyone knew they had gotten lucky. He wouldn't speak of it. It hadn't happened.

The mad laughter they had intercepted over the feeds came back to him now, summoned by Temeritus' derogatory new label for the merciless pilot of the white MS. For some reason, neither pilot had bothered turning on the voice-scrambling features any piloted war machine would certainly possess. Parker had heard the voice of the other pilot as well; a younger man by the sound of him, but certainly more attuned with reality- with the horror of the thousands of lives lost- than his dark counterpart, who didn't seem to care one iota.

That one, we would have had, Parked decided firmly, seeing its defeated wreckage now receding right in front of him. The MS 25-GX Peregrine, I believe it is called… it could not have survived against us even if our crews are mostly composed of rookies. It certainly could not have destroyed one of our ships with a single action.

He studied the incoming damage reports for the other vessels now, remembering that they had originally been considered redundant. No one had expect to take serious casualties on this mission, and the reinforcements Temeritus had ordered to wait for them at the rendevous point would not salve the wound.

Besides their survival, there was only one bright side he could think of at the moment, but it was a bright one still, quickly occupying his thoughts. Peregrine had only been a sample of what a Mobile Suit could do against plain old-fashioned capital ships. It could very well be that the other two- MS 24-G and MS 22-G, the ones Kyoto now held safely within its bowels- were equally as good.

If that was the case, and they were to be placed at the disposal of the legendary strategist, Admiral Heim Temeritus himself… then the Counterstriker was effectively avenged. He would see to it.

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