"Alright, everyone here?" Neil looked around the briefing room. "Good, let's start the briefing."
A picture of a coastline Ribbon didn't recognize appeared on the screen behind Neil. "Today you will be deploying to control the airspace over the city of Davao, in the territory of the Phillipine Islands…"
Ribbon tuned him out, letting his mind wander instead.
The general response toward the current state of affairs and the order to assist Blue Cosmos has been, at best, hostile. However, while the consensus aboard the ship during the time of their mission statement was a resounding "what the hell" the fact remained that the Archangel was still a Federation ship, and thus was still duty-bound to follow orders.
Therefore, for the past five weeks the Archangel sailed as a part of the EFA's "Rebel Suppression" task force, conducting mission after mission in the Equatorial Union's waters. Their job would've been easier if all of their forces were available on hand, but Kira Yamato and Tolle Koenig stubbornly refused to deploy in almost every mission they were assigned, and their stay from mission participation was further reinforced when high command handed down an execute order that effectively grounded both the Strike and the Skygraspers from flying within the Equatorial Union territories.
Not that Tolle would've mattered much. Ribbon thought idly, watching a grid map of the coastline depict the targets they were going to hit today.
With the majority of the Archangel's diverse strike force gone, the only deployable unit left was, thus, the Razgriz.
The presence of the Razgriz over the EU territory, flying as a part of the EFA military proper, led to a secondary development.
While the ZAFT knew of the Razgriz's existence (Patrick Zala trying to quash rumors of an "elite EFA task force" by means of censorship only added fuel to that particular fire) the EFA itself has been very noncommittal on the existence of such a squadron. Namely, EFA news outlets were encouraged to broadcast the feats of other, less successful squadrons to make the Razgriz seem less important.
However, two weeks into the rebel suppression war, the four Razgriz planes were ambushed by a several squadrons of Rebel Spearheads over a city in the Philippine Islands within sight of a major satellite television network helicopter. As a result, the world got to see in real time the sheer force of the Razgriz as they annihilated their would-be ambushers while protecting the civilian chopper, and then continued with their original mission (which was the escort of an EFA cargo flight). All within the timespan of less than three minutes.
The EFA's flying a lot of cargo into the EU lately. Ribbon mused.
Either way, the Razgriz's on-camera achievement forced the EFA to break their silence.
Almost overnight, their story on the Razgriz switched from "well, they are a squadron of good pilots, but the EFA has plenty of men like that" to "they are the EFA's Ace of Aces, the pride of the Federation."
Naturally the sudden change in tone was noticed by pretty much everyone with a brain, but whatever the media outlets had to say about the Razgriz didn't change the fact the Razgriz were being deployed on essentially every mission within the Equatorial Union theatre.
That kind of deployment schedule was wrecking havoc on both the Razgriz pilots and their aircraft.
Ribbon felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked up to see Blaze staring at him worriedly.
"You ok there, man? Need a break for today?" Blaze asked.
Ribbon shook his head and stood up, aware now that the briefing was over while his mind wandered. "Nah, I'm good. What are we doing today?"
Blaze rolled his eyes. "Good, he says; same as usual, flying support for a cargo ship."
Were it not for the fact that they had two replacement pilots on call (besides Tolle and Kira) the situation would've been a lot worse.
"You sure there, kid?" Bartlett asked, clapping Ribbon on the shoulder. "We can handle it for the day; no point macho-ing yourself to death."
Ribbon smirked. "We can't fly three-man formations forever."
"Oh you can and you will." Murdoch practically snarled from his seat in the back of the room.
The Archangel had an unspoken policy lately: avoid Murdoch whenever he is outside of the hangar.
"Something else came up today?" Captain Bartlett asked.
"You guessed it." Murdoch growled. "We're grounding unit three; there's a power failure in the craft and I don't know where it is yet."
Ribbon sighed despite himself. Despite the sturdiness of the Super Spearheads the constant strain on the aircraft was causing a myriad of breakdowns, and the breakdowns were occurring faster than Murdoch or the Grunder mechanics could catch.
"We've even retrofitted the Bombers back into their all-purpose variants. This sucks." Murdoch raged toward the ceiling.
"The price we pay for being famous, I suppose; see you when we get back, Ribbon; and get some sleep." Blaze ordered.
Ribbon sighed again; the fact that the Razgriz (not the Archangel, interestingly enough) was in the limelight meant that any shirking of duty on their part would draw some very unfortunate attention their way.
I suppose Murrue knows this, given how hard we're being pushed. Ribbon thought, before being dragged off by Bartlett toward the officer's lounge as the older man said something about "properly resting up".
…
…
"Razgriz fighters are cleared to deploy." Miriallia declared, per her job. "Good luck, guys."
"Copy that; Razgriz one, away." Blaze confirmed.
The Archangel tremored just a tiny bit as three Super Spearheads took to the skies, flying off into their next mission.
"High command is pushing them far too hard." Natarle grumbled. "Us, too."
Mu, in lieu of having an aircraft to fly (not that he particularly felt the urge to) was pulled by Murrue to act as a commanding officer so the two other captains could get a decent amount of sleep.
Murrue sighed. "It can't be helped; orders are orders." She looked wistfully out into the sky. "Though I really liked it better when they just wanted us back home for the Archangel's data."
"Yeah." Natarle sighed. "Well…Captain, here are the orders for the day."
"Can't I just have today off?" Murrue complained to the ceiling.
…
…
"Why are they still doing this?" Kira asked as he gazed into the screen of yet another city landscape on a small television screen.
Tolle idly flipped another page in his book. "Who, the good guys or the bad guys?"
"Both of them." Kira sighed. "This is stupid; the Rebels aren't putting up a fight and the EFA is dragging its feet."
"Dragging its feet? We've been here for weeks now!" Tolle exclaimed. "Well, ok, I can see how that's dragging their feet, but the rebels are hard to root out."
Kira shot him a look. "Do you really believe the whole Rebels business?"
Tolle closed his book. "No, not really...it's just too convenient, and it doesn't make any sense." He then jumps off of the couch. "But at the same time it's not like we have any kind of evidence."
Kira sighs, something he's been doing a lot in the past few weeks. "Dammit. Why won't this war just end already?" His attention is then drawn back to the screen to the sounds of explosions and the distinctive roar of the Spearhead engines.
"Looks like ours." Tolle watched the two flights of Spearheads engage each other over the city's airspace.
Kira frowned. "That reminds me. Why are they sending out their aces on stupid escort missions? Seems like a waste of time to me."
Tolle shrugged. "They're supplies for the war refugees, right? Those things have to take top priority."
"Well, sure, but…" Kira drummed his fingers on the table. "Wouldn't it be better if they sent their best pilots on just attack missions instead? What if the cargoes are carrying something weird?"
"Weird?" Tolle repeats with a frown. "How weird?"
"I don't know, just…weird things."
…
…
…
"Weird things?" Blaze raised an eyebrow upon Tolle's question, having just disembarked from the Super Spearhead.
"Yeah, like…you guys get a weird feeling whenever something big comes up, right?" Tolle asked.
"Something like that, sure." Blaze says warily, watching his plane get towed into a hangar lock.
"Did you guys feel anything with the cargo planes?" Tolle asks, and almost immediately realizes just how stupid the question sounds.
Blaze, fortunately, doesn't care in the slightest. "Hmm…" He strokes his chin. "Not exactly. As far as I know we were just guarding normal cargo planes; something on your mind?"
Tolle shakes his head. "Uh, no, not really…Kira and I were just going over some theories on why the top brass is pushing us so hard."
Blaze opens his mouth to respond, but is then distracted by Talisman rushing into the Gründer workshop (which was just a piece of real estate on the hangar floor) on the opposite side of the hangar and then hugging a small cylinder-looking weapon on the ground.
"What's this new love you found?" Blaze asks with a confused grin as he walks up to Talisman.
"It's my baby." Talisman said happily.
One of the Gründer mechanics laugh loudly. "Blaze, you surprised, yes?" The mechanic taps a similar cylinder next to him. "This is Emmerian RCL. Best of their kind."
Blaze frowns. "RCLs, huh…I have to admit I liked UGBs a lot more."
"What are you talking about?" Tolle asks sheepishly.
The mechanic overrode him. "Emmerians very good at making weapons; we Gründer learn from them and apply our knowledge here."
"You have no idea how much I miss RCLs." Talisman says, still draped on the RCL cylinder.
"Not like we can use it here, though." Ribbon says, walking out from underneath the chassis of the XFA-27.
Blaze had never gotten a look up close at the aircraft. During his time in Osea he had heard about a project to create the "Ultimate fighter jet" (many of them, actually) and as far as he knew the XFA project was discontinued after a single working prototype was made. The chassis laid out in front of him had pieces of fuselage removed to make room for wires that ran all around the plane and ended at either laptops or the CFA-44 that was currently out of sight.
Despite this, he could still tell that this jet was designed for mobility at the sacrifice of everything else. Its plethora of thin, triangular wings gave it a menacing, almost alien look, and it gave him a kind of weird satisfaction to know that the stories he had heard about the XFA's ability to turn on a dime was at least reasonably true.
"What were you doing here? Did Bartlett finally let you go?" Blaze chuckled.
Both of them knew that neither Ribbon nor Captain Bartlett drank alcohol on duty, if ever. "We can say that; I was helping out the mechanics with some fine tuning."
"Can we really be fine tuning for aircraft that obviously isn't going to fly any time soon, though?" Tolle wondered.
"It is a necessary step in process, boy." A Gründer mechanic scoffed. "You and brown hair brat not have any flight assignments to do, yes? Then lend us a hand. You might learn something."
"I really don't think I should be—" Tolle says quickly, but is also quickly overridden.
"You think nothing; young men shouldn't just sit and wait. You must take action!"
Without further ado, the mechanic dragged Tolle into the workshop.
"Are we gonna help him?" Ribbon asked, wiping his hands with a rag.
Blaze looked between Tolle being dragged unceremoniously into the CFA-44's underbelly and Talisman still hugging the RCL canister. "Meh, it'll be fine."
…
…
[Earth Orbit, same day, roughly same time]
…
…
"They're very, very dedicated about all of this."
"Sir?"
Rau Le Cruset continued to stare at the screen showing news coverage of the EFA within the Equatorial Union. "Almost too dedicated…have our satellites seen anything over the EU region?"
The aide was caught off guard by that question. "Uh, no sir, I don't…or, rather, there haven't been any major changes since last time."
'Last time' being two days ago. Rau reminded himself. "I see…and how have our scouts fared?"
'Scouts' being the blanket term referring to the ZAFT disaster relief personnel sent into the Equatorial Union at the behest of the Equatorial Union (which served the combined purposes of letting ZAFT get spies formally on the ground, letting ZAFT get good PR within the EU populace, and protecting the ZAFT soldiers from monumental harm).
"Our scouts haven't found anything of interest; as far as they can tell the EFA's cargo runs into the EU really are just relief supplies." The aide glanced down at his note board. "Of course, that doesn't really answer the original question."
Rau nods, his attention fixed upon a document listing a series of ships currently within their fleet space.
"Sir?"
Rau gave no indication that he heard the aide, and merely waved his hand.
The aide saluted and left the captain's quarters.
"The question of why the EFA is giving relief to a nation that definitely does not need it remains unanswered." Rau mutters to himself, going over the ship list one last time. "But that…doesn't matter to us for now."
…
[ZAFT Submarine]
…
"Hey! Captain Athrun!" Athrun heard momentarily before he felt a hearty clap on the shoulder.
"What is it, Dearka?" Athrun said tiredly.
"Is everything ready on your end, oh great captain?" Dearka asked with a grin.
Athrun was too tired and annoyed by this point to care. "Just about. How's it looking for you guys?"
Dearka seemed slightly annoyed at Athrun's lack of appropriate response. "So so…the second batch isn't nearly as good, but they'll manage somehow."
"Hard to believe high command is suddenly sending us in for an operation, especially now, of all times." Yzak said, leaning on the door frame.
"Yeah." Athrun nodded, double checking his flight suit. "How do you feel about all of this, Yzak?"
Yzak scoffed. "As a soldier? Great. As a man? It sickens me."
Dearka stared at him. "If this operation goes well the big war is pretty much done and over with, you know?"
"I do." Yzak said. "But it doesn't make me feel any better about stabbing someone else behind their backs."
"You do realize we stole their mobile suits, right?" Dearka deadpanned.
"Yeah. That's that, and this is this." Yzak shrugged. "Something just feels wrong about the whole thing, that's all."
"Uh, sirs?" An aide asked timidly, earning a glare from Yzak. "The captain wants you to be at the briefing room in five, sir."
"We'll be right there; you're dismissed." Yzak said tersely. The aide saluted quickly and left.
"Going back to old habits, Yzak?" Dearka asked lightly.
Yzak grimaced. "I don't feel good about this whole thing; I don't know why."
…
…
[Elsewhere]
…
…
A man took a wine glass and drained it in one go, and then slammed it on the table. "I thought you said you had all of this under control!" He said angrily.
A second man poured the first one some more wine. "We do, we do…everything is under control."
The first man gestured pointedly at the television screen, at the news of the EU versus EFA war. "You call this under control?!"
"It is certainly under control; a certain amount of…rearrangement, must be made before true progress can occur." The second man said lazily.
"True progress? What kind of progress can we have by doing this kind of idiocy?!" The first man said after draining his wine glass again.
"The kind of progress that won't be stopped by some small, technologically advanced island nation with no alignments." A woman's voice came from somewhere else in the room.
The first man gave the woman leaning against the wall scant attention. "End this stupid secondary war, and realign your focus toward actually killing the damned coordinators." He said coldly.
"It would be nice if it was that easy." The second man laughed, and lounged on the large sofa in the middle of the room.
The first man opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by his phone.
"Yeah? What is it?" He said angrily as soon as he answered the call.
It's show time. The second man thought with a thin smile, his head tilted toward the television screen, as the first man's phone clattered to the floor.
…
…
[Archangel Bridge, 1900 hours]
…
…
"Emergency wire from Alaska!" Miriallia yelled out. "Panama is under attack by ZAFT!"
Murrue snapped to attention, all thoughts of dinner gone. "What? When?!"
"Uh…message time lag, fifteen minutes!" Miriallia cursed ZAFT inwardly for destroying the EFA's satellites wholesale.
Natarle slammed her clenched fist on her chair. "Dammit; did we receive any orders?" She demanded.
Miriallia shook her head frantically. "The Archangel has been ordered to maintain current combat posture as demanded by the operation."
"What? Those goddamned idiots!" Murrue said into her hand (which was currently residing on her face, palm open). "Connect me to the fleet commander."
…
"We got the message too, Captain Ramius." The fleet commander said almost as soon as the connection was established. "But I don't think hurrying to the base is the wisest choice of action here."
"The hell it isn't." Murrue snarled. She almost added the fact that they had the Razgriz on their side, but thought better of it at the last second.
"I understand your concern, captain." The fleet commander said with an edge is his voice due to Murrue's lack of proper décor. "But the fact remains that we will certainly not make it in time; let the forces stationed in the Americas handle it."
Murrue took a deep breath. "Right, right…my apologies, commander, for speaking out of line."
The fleet commander waved it away. "Apology accepted…if ZAFT attacked Panama, then certainly they're going to be attacking Josh-A as well." He said after a moment of mulling it over.
"We can certainly get there in time if we move at full speed." Murrue muttered. "Sir, requesting permission to separate from the current battle operation."
The Fleet Commander thought it over for a fraction of a second before a smile crept onto his face. "Denied; the Archangel is hereby assigned to Josh-A in order to continue its reinforcement of our Equatorial Union combat theatre."
Murrue rolled her eyes. "Yes sir; we will depart immediately."
…
…
"Seriously?"
Mu La Flaga nodded. "Yeah. Apparently Panama's being hit right now."
"So why are we going to Josh-A?" Blaze snarled.
Mu patted Blaze on the shoulder. "Easy there, buddy; if we go to Panama now we won't make it in time to protect it. Judging by the sound of things ZAFT's deployed some pretty skilled pilots to take the place over."
Blaze sighed. "Must be those guys from before."
Mu shrugged. "Probably; either way, Natarle wants all free hands doing rush maintenance on our fighters."
"Which means I'm getting my hands dirty?" Blaze said with an unusually bright grin.
Mu laughed. "Yep…we get to be bossed around by the mechanics this time."
…
[Orbit]
…
The crew of the Vesalius was treated to a rare sight of Rau Le Cruset shaking his head in utter dejection.
"Three days, why were they so rushed as to attack three days early?" He sighed into his gloved hands.
"Sir?" An aide asked hesitantly.
Rau made a noise halfway between a snarl and a sigh. "How are our preparations?"
"About eighty percent of the ships are in place. The rest will arrive tomorrow at 0800 hours." The aide said.
Rau smiled at the news. "Wonderful…we're on schedule for Operation Spitbreak, at the very least. How is the Panama Op going?"
The aide checked another piece of paper on his clipboard. "According to the satellite images, the Carpentaria forces have subdued Panama base in three hours, and summarily destroyed both the base garrison and a reinforcing EFA task force with ease." The aide grinned. "Our boys are kickin' ass, captain."
"Good, good…" Rau steepled his fingers like a man with scary shiny glasses in a different anime. Now then, Federation…what will you do with your heads cut off?
…
[Somewhere on Earth]
…
"HOW COULD YOU HAVE LET THEM TAKE PANAMA BASE?!"
The man currently being raised off the ground by his collars stared at his bedraggled assailant.
"Calm yourself, general; we knew this was going to happen." The man said coldly.
"Calm?! How can I be calm?! We lost a key position and we lost it decisively!" The EFA General snarled. "No, you lost it decisively. We should've never trusted the likes of you to handle our defenses to begin with." The General dropped the man and paced around the room.
The man adjusted his collar. "All of this is within our expectations, General."
The General swerved to glare. "You predicted that the EFA would lose Panama base?"
The man scratched behind his ear. "It happened a bit earlier than we expected, and Panama fell much earlier than we anticipated…regardless, there have been no hindrances to our plan."
The General felt like he really should have strangled the man. Instead, he settled for violently demolishing a table with a punch.
"Please take good care of furniture, general." The man said lazily.
The General's response was to kick a piece of table into a wall. "Bah. You're useless." He said as he stormed out of the room.
"Look on the bright side." The man said after a minute of complete silence. "At least you won't have to worry about Panama in a few weeks." With a casual flick of his wrist, the small toy in his hand landed on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
A small toy of a gun with an obscenely long barrel, pointed toward the sky.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
Author notes:
If it feels like I'm rushing the storyline, it's because I am, in a mixture of both sheer incompetence and just a desire to get to the good part.