Episode 6: The Dance Goes On

The year is After Colony 205. After successfully carrying out a coup d'etat, Mikol Esroni has Mars secede from the ESUN and begin building up military force. On Earth, the Preventer Corps and the Gundam pilots prepare for war. It has been only eight years since the Mariemaia Coup, and already, the peace is fading…

"Let's go, people. We have UESA supply convoy to capture!" Zhacque called to his teammates. The four-member squad of Leos was armed with machine guns and beam sabres. They were an independent group of fighters loosely associated with the rebel army, and their current assignment was to capture supplies for said army. As the 'Fighting Four' swarmed over the ridge on either side of the convoy, Zhacque immediately noticed a UESA Leo armed with a strange-looking gun standing guard over an MS transport truck. Deciding that the truck could wait, he fired his two machine guns at the nearest enemy. The bullets struck the suit in the arm, forcing it to drop its weapon. "HA!" Zhacque said, firing again, this time aiming for the head section, which blew up quite nicely. Leaving the blind, weaponless Leo, Zhacque went through the combat zone, supporting teammates whenever he could, then turned his attention to the MS guarding the transport truck. Charging, he emptied his machine gun magazines in one long burst, dropped them, and pulled out two beam sabres from under his shield, one in each hand. He then realized that the enemy Leo was fleeing madly. He put the sabres away, picked up and reloaded his guns, then lifted the tarp on the truck to discover a dobergun attachment, several of the new beam rifles, and a bazooka.

"Nice," Private Phinney said.

"Yeah," Zhacque said. "The question is, do we use these ourselves, or send them to the main group?"

"How 'bout we keep the dobergun and bazooka, but send them the beam rifles?" Nadeau suggested.

"I agree. So I'll take the dobergun, and you three can decide which of you gets the bazooka. Whichever two are left each get one of my machine guns," Zhacque said.

Phinney ended up getting the bazooka, both because he was a better shot than Nadeau and because his machine gun had run out of ammunition.

While they had been talking, the two Leos that were mostly intact had escaped. "Darn it," Zhacque said. "Oh well. At least they won't be eager to go up against us anytime soon."

He was, however, completely wrong.

"Lieutenant, face it. It's hopeless to fight against those guys. They're just too good."

"Cut that talk," Mariemaia snapped at Ensign Peters, the other of her pilots who had survived. "The only reason that they've us in both our previous engagements was this: the element of surprise. If we can deprive them of that one thing, the odds are overwhelmingly in our favor."

"If we had an entire unit, sure; but there's only two of us now, and your suit, Lieutenant, is in bad need of repairs."

"I know; Ensign, I know. We need repairs and resupply."

"Should we return to our forward base?"

"Ye-no. I have a better idea. Heheheheheh," Mariemaia laughed.

"Uh… Lieutenant?"

"Huh? Oh, the laugh. I have a plan."

At the rebel position on the road, Zhacque, having taken first shift sentry duty as usual, was surprised to see the headless UESA Leo walk over the ridge, hands raised.

"Attention, rebel unit! Do not fire! I am defecting to your cause!" The male voice, slightly panicky, sounded genuine enough. Zhacque toggled on his comm systems.

"Really? And why would an upstanding Earth citizen do something like that?"

"If your unit is any indication, you rebels will win in the end; I'd rather be a heroic defector from an enemy Specials unit than a hated symbol of the oppressive old regime."

Perfectly plausible, Zhacque thought, and while I'd say it's a little more eloquently expressed than your average soldier, he is from a Specials unit. "Sure," he said, "you're welcome to join us. We'll have you repaired in no time. And as for armament- Nadeau," he switched frequencies, "Heads or tails?"

"What?" she said, startled by the completely unexpected contact."Just pick one," Zhacque replied.

"Uh… Heads, I guess."

Zhacque dug a coin out of his pocket and was about to flip it when he thought better of it. Instead he instructed his onboard computer to randomly pick between H and T. The computer chose T. He switched frequency again. "Sullivan, give of one of your machine guns to the defector here after the head is replaced." Zhacque switched back to the general-purpose frequency he had talked to the defector on. "Sorry about that delay," he apologized. "Had to decide which of my subordinates was going to have to fork over their extra machine gun. What rank are you, anyway?"

"Ensign. My name is Simus Peters."

A little while later, the Leo's head unit had been replaced, and a sullen Sullivan had given Peters the second gun.

"Well then, Ensign Peters-What the fuck was that?" Zhacque swore, for a beam had just streaked through the air and just missed his suit's torso section. "Damnit, that must be the other survivor. Well, now's your chance to prove your sincerity, Peters. Take Sullivan and Phinney and go try to intercept the bastard."

"Roger that, Sir. Sullivan, Phinney! We're moving out. Come on!"

Mariemaia listened with satisfaction. As she had hoped, Zhacque had forgotten, in the need to act quickly, to switch to a secure channel when giving orders to Peters. Not only that, but he had, as expected, picked Peters to lead the interception. One thing she hadn't predicted was his assignment of Sullivan to the team as well. That was a complicating factor. Oh well. Two of the first things she had learned about warfare from military fiction were: the First Law of War is Murphy's; and no plan survives contact with the enemy.

She fired her experimental beam sniper rifle again, aiming at the Leo with the bazooka, on the assumption that it would be the other Ensign, Sullivan.

"Damn! Pvt., are you okay?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I think I'm okay," came the shaken voice. "My Leo is pretty beat up, though."

"Fall back, Phinney. Let them take it." It was Zhacque's voice. Mariemaia grinned fiercely as she waited for Sullivan and Peters to get within range of their weapons. She was going to enjoy this.

Ensign Michael Sullivan was in a foul mood. Cynical, mercenary, and disrespectful to everyone, not many commanders liked him, and the only thing he had going for him was a keen mind for tactics and strategy; unfortunately, this led him to dispute many of his former CO's decisions, and those in the know said he'd either never make it past Lieutenant (JG), or become advisor to Une herself.

He was in a foul mood because Chief Warrant Officer Lejeun had put this utter imbecile Peters in command. The fool hadn't even ordered evasive tactics until Pvt. Phinney had been shot.

"Peters, Sullivan here. I think I've spotted the enemy's position."

"Roger that. Hold your position, I'm coming up behind you."

"Attention, rebel scum. Don't get any closer, or you'll find out just what my sniper weapon is capable of at point-blank range." A cool female voice froze Sullivan's blood. "Good job, Ensign. They bought it hook, line, and sinker."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Kushrenada. Shall I dispose of the rebel, or would you like to?"

"Wha- Hold on- Dispose of me? Why bother? I'll join you. God knows your pay is higher. I don't know why I even signed on with the rebels."

"You'll defect to us?" Mariemaia asked suspiciously.

"Sure," Sullivan said.

"Alright, let's move out."

"Where are we going?"

"You don't need to know until we get there."

Mariemaia had just said this when everyone's screens went black and their hatches popped open.

"Today's session is over. See you tomorrow," Roche's voice rang through the pseudo-hangar.

"Man, I am so glad that students in the Preventers are exempt from homework, even if it does mean more work has to be done at school," Zhacque said to Mariemaia as they walked toward the exit.

"Yeah," Mariemaia agreed. "It gives you more time to get beaten," she continued teasingly.

"Lts. Lejeun and Kushrenada, report to the control center!" Roche's voice echoed over the intercom before Zhacque could retort. The two of them glanced at each other. Zhacque shrugged. They turned around and walked into the control center, where Roche was waiting.

"Reporting as ordered, Sir!"

Roche acknowledged them with a nod. "Sit down," he said. Then, to Mariemaia, "Well done, Lieutenant After two crushing defeats, you recovered morale and not only evened but actually tipped the odds once again in your favor. You have my congratulations."

Mariemaia glowed. "Thank you, Sir."

Roche turned to Zhacque. "Now you, Chief Warrant Officer, after a spectacularly victorious performance in the opening engagements, were, to put it bluntly, spectacularly suckered by Lieutenant Kushrenada's scheme. Why?"

"Well, Sir, I would have to say it was because my initial success made me overconfident."

Roche nodded again. "Your confidence was not completely unjustified. Your unit's morale was excellent, and you had a numerical advantage. However, it was more a matter, in my opinion, of the combination of Peters's acting abilities and Kushrenada's inherited gift for tactics and strategy that put you over on this one. If you do better in the next two weeks, I might speak to Commander Une about making your promotion permanent."

"But I thought I screwed up…" Zhacque looked confused.

"Screwing up in the sims, and learning from those errors, are how commanders get better," Roche said. "Dismiss. I want to look over the battle again."

Mariemaia and Zhacque exited the building and made their way toward the residential sector, talking about school, the training, and life in general. A light breeze riffled through their hair, and Zhacque caught a glimpse of her earrings.

You're wearing the earrings I gave you for Christmas," Zhacque observed.

"Yeah," Mariemaia said, "and I've been wondering how you got my symbol on there. Did you have them custom-made or something?"

Zhacque nodded. "Yeah, I did, actually."

"Wasn't that expensive?"

"Kind of. A little," Zhacque replied evasively. "Yeah."

"How much?"

"I can't remember exactly. A couple hundred, maybe?"

Her eyes narrowed and she said, "Liar. How much? Really?"

"Five fifty. Maybe six," he replied quietly.

"You shouldn't go spending that much on me!" she shouted. "I'm flattered, of course, and I appreciate it, but you didn't even have a job before Christmas!" She stared at him, thoughts churning in her mind. Why? turned up the most often, but How did he get the money? was a close second. Finally she settled on the former. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I love you," he said. Mariemaia's eyes widened.

"Oh," she said quietly. The pair of walked on in silence until they came to the next intersection. "Well, I have to go this way," Mariemaia said, indicating the right. "See you tomorrow, Zhacque," and she walked away, rather more quickly than she would have normally.

"See you tomorrow," Zhacque repeated to her retreating back before starting to trudge home.

Continued In Episode 7: Unexpected Developments