Chapter 7

U.C. 0093.12.27 12:20 EOST

"Bring the fleet to combat alert status! Prepare all mobile suits for launch! And someone gets Captain Zinnerman to this ship immediately!" I barked out orders in rapid succession, my thoughts racing. How many Federal ships were on the way? Zinnerman said at least five but that isn't a definitive statement, there could be ten warships but he only saw five! Best to get his word for word account of it then.

The bridge scrambled into motion, rapid fire messages being sent out using laser flash arrays. I mustered my stance into a completely neutral one, broadcasting none of my emotions to those around me. Now the question was what to do next?

Do I assume the approaching ships knew of our location and were on an immediate interception course? In that case the fleet must leave immediately and try to lose the fleet before hostile eyes set sight on us. But if those ships are just a regular patrol, completely unaware of a Neo Zeon fleet in the vicinity, then the situation changes. Still there was no way to know and the path of action would have to be decided by a split second decision, my decision.

….

Zinnerman said ships, not mobile suits. Londo Bell primarily uses mobile suits as their modus operandi and the ships they used were very distinctive in their profile. I nodded to myself in thought.

"Monroe!" The ship's acting captain directed his attention to me. "Broadcast this fleetwide: Contract formation and go dark. Power down all non-essential systems and reduce reactor output." The fleet had to lessen its profile, and we did have Pezun Major to use to our advantage.

After Monroe had relayed that to the other captains through the CIC of the ship, I handed out my next directives. "Bring the ship under Zinnerman into the center of the formation and give them the same instructions. Have the 3rd MS Team maintain their positions on the ship. Bring Zinnerman aboard the Claxon immediately upon their compliance with the directives." A minute passed before I got a positive response relayed to me from the Garan.

"Dispatch a shuttle to move them over and get a manifest of that ship. I want to know who and what is in there. Monroe, shift us to the combat bridge."

I used the ship's internal phone line to ring the hanger. "McCanson?...Outfit my suit for combat, the full loadout please."

I addressed Monroe again. "Contact the Advance Squad. They're to push to the moonward side of the debris field and get a visual on the approaching Federation ships. Have them transmit visuals back to the fleet. Now get me a line to the Garan, I would like to have a word with Captain Zinnerman."

After a short and brief, but informative conversation with Zinnerman, who looked exactly like I thought he would, I took another look at the situation. Zinnerman's ship was full of some fifteen hundred rear echelon soldiers of Neo Zeon, the supply corp mainly. This made him some three times over crew capacity and they had used up the majority of their foodstocks during the trip to our position. His ship also had no mobile suits in it because it was a decommissioned Columbus-class that had been retooled for cargo hauling after the One Year War. So it was basically a gigantic soft target, a very valuable target but a soft one nonetheless. Well it's not like we didn't already have those with the Rewloola.

I hadn't heard anything about Ple 12/Marida Cruz from Zinnerman but it had just been a talk between the two of us. Shame we had no spare suits lying around any more. Zinnerman had also confirmed the existence of a high stakes VIP aboard his ship but had been tight lipped on the topic of whom. Still, all deductions point to the last Zabi being in Zinnerman's care which at the moment and it further placed that pint sized problem as something for future me to deal with.

I had Feddies that demanded my attention.

"Sir, we have a line from EWAC 002. Putting it on screen now." The video feed from the EWACs systems began filtering in. It wasn't the most clear of images and the occasional distortion would occur due to the distance between us and the suit but it did the job.

One, two, three, four, annd five ships, all the same class type. The mental image of the ship popped up for me, a diagram of sorts that I could see in my mind's eyes with perfect clarity.

Salamis Kai-class. A Mass Production Space Light Cruiser. An upgrade and retrofit of the old Salamis-class that had served in the One Year War, the new design actually had a dedicated mobile suit hanger while maintaining the same size as its previous incarnation. That probably made it the closest to our fleet's newly added Musai Kais in terms of size. Such redesigns didn't cut into the firepower wielded by the ship or its armor density. Clearly, the class was made to serve more as a frontline ship that happened to have MS capabilities, than a rearline mobile suit hub like the Federation's new Clop-class. Going off that, the ship could carry more than let's say five mobile suits at the very max. But considering the Federation seemed to like keeping its suits in an upright fashion when they were in the ship, let's cut that down to four per ship.

Therefore the force nearing the debris field would field at most twenty mobile suits. Sounds easy but there is the problem of not knowing which model of mobile suits this squadron had. I tapped a finger against my chin. Something to consider later.

"What is the approaching squadron's flight path?" I asked. That would be the true determiner to see if the Federation knew about our presence here.

"Initial analysis predictions say the approaching squadron is on an approach vector away from the rear of the debris field." The prediction appeared on screen. It had the Federal ships passing across the front, aka the sunward side, of the debris field, while our fleet remained sequestered behind Pezun Major in the rear.

"So this could just be a patrol squadron heading between the Federation's Luna bases and the ones at Side 2." I reconsidered that. "Or Side 5 I suppose." Not that I would consider New Side 5, or Riah as the maps proclaimed it as, of having a worthwhile EFSF base in it. Or maybe it did because the Federation wanted to keep a close eye on the former independent state, something to look into on a later date.

"Very well," I proclaimed. "Have the Advance Squad maintain their current positions. Begin regular scans of the surrounding areas, the possibility is still out there that another Federation force is near."

I nodded to Monroe. "If you would join me captain, I believe it is time the fleet devised a plan of attack."

In the briefing room of the Claxon, a conference call, different from the regular white collar business ones, was being held. Myself and the captains of the twelve warships in the fleet were, through the possibilities of the future, simultaneously talking strategy and drafting plans which appeared onscreen and that plan was able to be edited in real time. The future man.

"Again, Igovnich. We must preserve the strength of our mobile suits until after we have softened the enemies up." Captain Dante, of the Guskor, restarted his argument with Captain Igovnich, of the Musai Kai Tsar. Dante was of the opinion that our initial strike should be an overwhelming one, composed of the remainder of the fleet's missile stocks. Igovnich believed that our mobile suit contingent should rush in and break the Federation fleet's formation and cohesion. The other captains mostly split between the two camps. Both sides had value to them: our mobile suits were the main power projectors of the fleet but all the mobile suits in the world wouldn't matter if their motherships got destroyed in the fight.

"You only want to ensure that your own group attains the most combat today!" accused Igovnich. "Everyone here knows that you need to earn your way back into our good graces, considering your failures earlier this year." That kicked the arguing up to a new level, three captains heatedly defending their actions and four captains ragging on them.

Another issue that needs immediate addressing/fixing. Apparently, among the commissioned officers of the fleet, the trio of Musakas weren't viewed as very dependable. My old six had proven themselves in the eyes of the Belt officers, partially through learning of the battle at Side 3 and being the group to send out the rallying cry for Neo Zeon. While the ships that hadn't been the core six were regarded as the ones who had done nothing but run for the better part of the year. Of course the three captains had responded like level headed adults and started tossing around not so vague hints of piracy.

I cleared the current drawn plan, which had swerved between the two extremes all ships or all mobile suits so much that it became indecipherable, and pinched the bridge of my nose, my fingers running over the lower edges of the 'X' shaped scar on my lower forehead. The result of a...minor mental breakdown in the days after my awakening.

"Captains! Your attention please." I looked at the digital images of them. "We are not here to spend all our time on irrelevant matters such as who should have done what when. We are all here today because we fight for Zeon. I'm sure we can all agree to this simple fact." The collective heads nodded. "Then it is time to set aside the disputes of the past, that which has been our undoing far too many times. If you wish to argue these things in your free time, then by all means go ahead, but right here and now such things must and shall be set aside. After all, we are all on the same side, we are all Neo Zeon." Another round of agreements.

I started drawing on the digital map. "Good. Then let us continue. While it has been proven that we outnumber the Federation forces in the area and could most likely destroy them with little to no casualties on our part, a victory here will spell our doom if the Feddies get an SOS transmission out. To that effect, I believe it is necessary that M particles must be broadcasted before any of our forces engage." I looked up and saw that the captains were following along. "I would also prefer that our first strike be overwhelming in nature, to better weaken the enemy before our mobile suits close in. Captain Dante, I have a question for you."

"Name it sir." The man said resolutely.

"Are your Musakas able to traverse under the debris field, or at least under the thickest portions, safely; get under the enemy ships and broadcast M particles? This would give us an element of surprise, combined with the mega-particle cannons from the Lindra, Kalt and Samartian firing into their formation five seconds after you begin to further enhance the chaos." I was drawing the necessary movements on the map as I spoke, swooping red lines showing the flight paths of the ships. "Once that initial strike has been completed, the mobile suits will launch their attack runs from their prior positions inside the debris field, which will hopefully mask their heat signatures from the Federation sensors. The Musai Kais will act as support for this attack. Our non combat capable vessels will remain behind the shelter of Pezun Major for the duration of the fighting. Comments?" I turned the podium, so to speak, back to the captains.

Captain Dawson surveyed the plan. "Hmmm. It has its merits, sir, but in order for it to go off we would require the Federation ships to be at this point here. And I see no way of holding them without revealing our hand."

Igovnich made his own concerns known. "There are also the Federation mobile suits which will be deployed when our attack commences. Knowing that lot of cowards, one or more of the active suits will try to make a break for it. Might be a chance that they get far enough that someone else picks up their cries for help." He finished with a sneer directed at his opinion of the Federation MS corps.

"The Geara Dogas in our ships could deploy from underneath, knock out their patrols." Dante proposed.

"Then your fire would risk striking our own suits." "We need an accurate long range option then." "Something we don't have, my Gelgoogs certainly don't." "Well that's certainly an oversight."

"Need I remind you that my MS contingent has such long range options." Captain Bassein of the Kalt interjected. "Sure the rifles are a bit antiquated but when has that ever stopped us?"

This is why I love having competent officers. They know their shit. Can't wait to get some understudies for them once a base has been established.

"And that issue is solved, but we still must find a way to keep the enemy in place for this to go off." Dawson stated.

"I have a solution to that." I stated. "But first we are going to need a viable cargo shuttle to use."

One of the problems that came with gathering up the disparate shards of the once mighty Principality was that there was no central unity in the fleet, for the moment at least. At the moment, these officers were tied to me but they had to be reforged into a united whole if my Neo Zeon was to have any staying power in the long term. The pieces would be melted down and be poured back out as one and the same. And what better crucible to accomplish this task than in the flames of combat and victory?

U.C. 0093.12.27 15:13 EOST

RMS-106 Hizack. Petty Officer Avril Zech.

I tugged my normal suit's helmet off, my breath kept fogging it up. Feeling my patched throat all the stronger, I took a sip from the plastic straw of my water bottle. Smacking my lips in satisfaction, reattached the precious liquid's container back into its holster. Noting that my helmet was drifting across the cockpit, I grabbed a hold of it and placed it in between my legs. My feet errantly beat a rhythm on the acceleration pedals and I took what had to have been my hundred look at the countdown timer displayed on the suit's HUD.

Seven minutes until we started. Damn, why was this taking so long. My feet started to beat a little faster. Shit I was getting nervous. Okay, I need something to take my mind off it. Let's run another check.

Casting my eyes over the controls, I started confirming that the, in my opinion, hunk of junk mobile suit I had been tasked with operating for the foreseeable future was in working condition. Because forget what the wrenchmonkees said about this thing, I did not trust it.

Monoeye was green across the board and was luckily identifying everything with the correct IFFs. I cast a jealous gaze at the veritable sea of suits that were hidden behind various pieces of debris. What I would give to pilot one of them, a suit actually capable of fighting and not this ripoff Zaku created by the fucking Titans. My old man would have a heart attack, if he were still alive, if he saw me piloting this thing.

Reactor output was nominal and the thrusters were idling in their inactive setting, so they shouldn't burn out when I used them. Beam saber was stored in the suit's hip and was ready for use.

'Yeah and what good will that do me if a Feddies actually closes in on me? Exactly nothing. Chief said there was a reason we were given the orders we were.'

Grimacing at my utter uselessness to my comrades, I decided to focus on my only true weapon: the 135mm anti-ship rifle I had been assigned. It had been calibrated to a team by the mechanics before my squad had been sent out to take our positions for the attack. Luckily, I hadn't been assigned to the EWACs today and actually got to contribute to the cause.

Only bad news was…

"Hey-y Avril you'd better put your helmet back on before the Chief notices."

..my partner for today.

I glared up at the image of my partner that had appeared onscreen. "I'm fine Zechst. How about you actually focus on hitting your target when the time comes." Why couldn't I have gotten Spotter or Conrad? I actually like Spotter and could tolerate Conrad.

How this orange haired guy with a wet noodle for a spine managed to get into MS training without someone noticing his utter everything was beyond me. Still the clock was down to four minutes. I grabbed the helmet and placed it back on, a quiet hiss confirming that the seal had pressurized. Looking back up after that, I saw that Ade still hadn't closed off his video line, his derpy face still bugging me.

"I said I'm fine Zechst, now focus on mission because this is my first time in combat and I'll be damned if you manage to get a black mark on me. Now get ready." I reached forward and grasped the old fashioned joystick, flipping the trigger guard open.

I would prove that I was worthy of being a pilot, that the offer extended to me had not and will not ever be a mistake. I looked to the right of me. Downward of my position was a distinctive red Geara Doga, a rare performance model according to the scuttlebutt, that stood out starkly from the Zeon green and dark blueish grey Gelgoogs around it. Failure was definitely not an option.

I would make Pa proud by fighting the good fight against the Earthnoid scum that had taken Mom from us and cut Pa's life short. And it would all start with two fired shells.

We had two shots to land, me and Ade. Target the prows of the Salamis Kais that I could see at the edge of the debris field, cripple or destroy their mobile suit hangers and make the rest of my fellow pilot's job easier. Then cover the two EWACs that would pull back after we fired, and act as a rearguard. The Chief was going to fire on the patrolling Feddie mobile suits and then follow us.

Two minutes. I keyed into the general comm channel which would allow me to follow the fighting even if I wouldn't get the chance to participate in the best parts of it. Some intermittent soft chatter came through it.

Sixty seconds. The Chief came on our line, his confident tone steadying my nerves. "This is it. Sys and Mettinger, fire your verniers and begin to pull back. Zech and Ade, move into final firing positions. Good Hunting."

I nodded in response, even if the Chief couldn't see me. He was someone my Pa definitely would have called a good NCO, someone who knew his shit and knew military life. The quintessential backbone of an effective mobile suit force. My thoughts were that he was the best choice to show me the ropes and hopefully he could pound some backbone into Ade so that he isn't the constant embarrassment of the squad. Following the Chief's orders, I fired my verniers and my suit floated out of the shaded darkness provided by the piece of debris I had been behind into the light. I grabbed my already set up anti-ship rifle, assumed a prone firing position, and synced my visual sensor array with the rifle's optics.

"Roger. Petty Officer Zech, going combat mode." I keyed in the relevant commands and my reactor powered up, its energy output topping out at maximum; this granted allowed my monoeye to operate to its fullest extent and that was immediately shown by my visual feed zooming in sharply on the Federation ships. I moved my targeting reticule to the front ships, the first and second Salamis Kais in their formation. Ade would be taking the rear ships.

Ten seconds. I really hoped whatever distraction had been cooked up had worked. In the grand scheme I suppose it didn't, this was my chance to prove myself to those above me. To gain recognition that I might one day climb the ranks to stand next to them. So that one day, my Pa would be able to see me from where he had gone to, and know that his son was among the same famous idols he had told me of after the war, before whatever the Feds had shot into his lungs had taken his health permanently. I, Avril Zech, would be known as the equal of famous pilots like Johnny Ridden, Breniss Ox, Eric Manthfield, and Anavel Gato.

Two, One, Zero. My HUD blared at me. My thumb depressed on the firing stud, and I distinctly heard and felt the thud of the powerful rifle as it delivered its deadly round. In a blur of movement, I switched to my next target, barely taking note that a plume of light had cut right through the mobile hanger of the lead Salamis Kai. Another distant thud. I was off, missing the mobile suit hanger and hitting the Salamis dead center. It looked like the armor blunted most of the round's power though.

Six large particle beams arched over my position and rammed into the Federal formation. As that volley landed, another one came from beneath the Federal position, wrecking further devastation onto the ships.

"Good job lads!" The Chief shouted triumphantly over the squad comms. "Now back to the lines!"

Right now, we retreated. I pushed off the asteroid using verniers and engaged my main thrusters.

I'd… I'd done it. I'd done it! I actually struck back at the Federation!

"Look at me now Pa." I muttered to myself.

As we headed back to Pezun Major at full thrust, I heard our leader give the command, signalling my fellow pilots to unleash their pent up fury upon the attack dogs of the hated Federation.

AMS-119C Geara Doga. Full Frontal, Neo Zeon Leader/Supreme Commander(?)

"1st Squadron begin your attack run!" I barked over the general Zeon comms. "2nd Squadron, follow me!"

The various meters and dials in the cockpit shot upward as I opened the metaphorical floodgates for my reactor. The reactor rising to the highest outputs I could push it to without risking a dangerous overload as my Geara Doga became combat ready.

Across the debris field, mobile suits, their monoeyes of various colors lighting up the black of space, shot up from their hiding positions, clearing the field and gaining the high ground on the stunned and wounded Federation fleet. I shot ahead of the wing I was in command of, Yoshida having been given the other one. An equal mix of Geara Doga from the Musakas and the older models from the Belt.

Increasing throttle, I flew in an arching turn, my suits forming up behind me. From the higher viewpoint afforded to me, I had a bird's eye view of the effectiveness of our surprise attack.

It. Was. Glorious.

Every single Salamis Kai was on fire. The signature result of a mega particle weapon(and beam weaponry), liquified metal, was streaming down the hulls of the ships. Fires burned in critical and non-critical areas, and no area of the ships were unscathed due to the multidirectional vectors of attack. One of the rear ships even had its bridge sheared off, and the same ship had its mobile suit hanger pierced through. I shifted my optics to the ship next to it, its mobile suit hanger was destroyed also.

A quick look at the front of the Federal formation, my target, showed that the lead ship's MS hanger was also shot through but it looked like the only one.

I released a cruel and dangerous smile, feeling my muscles stretch in a decidedly unfriendly way. The arced turn I had taken us into had leveled out, and we were head on with the front of the enemy ships. My HUD came alive with IFFs with Federation signatures. Looks like they did have some mobile suits active. Looking directly ahead, I realized that a singular Salamis Kai had managed to make through the opening barrage unscathed, and was rapidly deploying its MS contingent. Well it's time to rain on that parade

"This is Squadron Lead, weapons free and fire at will. Let's see those Feddies burn!" I let slip my hounds with a jolly cheer in my voice. My pilots let out their own battle cries over the open comms, meaning that any active Feddie could hear them. The 02, 03 and 04 Teams split from my charge, falling on the crippled Salamis Kais with a devastating volley of beam weapons and missiles. 01 Team, the Gelgoogs, stuck to my rear as I led us on a direct course for the active Salamis Kai.

Judging that I was close enough, I extended my suit's shield, and fired the Sturm Fausts attached to the bottom. The explosives zipped past the agile enemy mobile suits, GM IIIs according to the HUD, and detonated against the armored underbelly of the warship.

With a snarl, I decided to deal with the GMs, three in total, that stood in my way, sending my escorts to eliminate the ship and the fourth GM III guarding it. Raising my beam machine gun, I let loose a tightly controlled burst at the enemy suits, forcing them to use their shields to prevent the projectiles from striking the all important torso. This action made the GMs unable to intercept the Gelgoogs and made me their sole focus.

In a split second decision, I reversed my thrust, bringing my suit to a dead stop right in front of the GMs. The suits stood still for some reason, but I disregarded that. As soon as my forward momentum had halted, I fired the missile pods on my leg and slammed the suit into an organ compressing, g-force heavy sideways dash, flying behind the left most GM and giving me a line of fire on the enemy mobile suits exposed flanks.

Raising my weapon, I fired off one, two and three controlled bursts of beam projectiles at them. The GM III closest to me is unable to react in time and gets riddled by the burst of beam pellets, exploding as I zipped behind it. The GM farthest away from me was able to react in time and block the attack with its shield, whose structural integrity was rapidly deteriorating. And the burst aimed at the center GM… impacted a floating husk, missing its legs and left arm. The only added damage was its lifeless head being shattered by the burst aimed at it. This was all wrong. Those suits should have been able to fire their thrusters to avoid my missles, which were only a distraction. Furthermore their sensors should have tracked my maneuver.

But why didn't they? ...Conditions of the battle perhaps?

No, it wasn't that. They were just inferior. Those mobile suits were seven years out of date, and were in the middle of being phased out of the EFF for the superior RGM-Jegan. A model I had already fought and defeated. Had I set my expectations too high for this battle?

Maybe. It was a surprise attack with an overwhelming numbers and firepower advantage but I had been eager for a fight. To feel the freedom that came with piloting a mobile suit in full, unrestrained combat. But now I knew better. These GM IIIs were so vastly inferior to even a factory standard Geara Doga that it wasn't even really funny. Compare them to a performance model like the one I was piloting? Then this whole affair just became..

"Pathetic." I addressed the sole remaining GM III, who had finally snapped out of his funk, or whatever he had been, and was now charging me, beam saber extended for a slashing strike. I sighed in disappointment, no use stretching this out. I re-racked my beam machine gun in its holster located on the rear of my suit and detached the beam sword-axe, igniting it in its sword format.

I pressed on the acceleration pedals, moving forward to meet the charging GM. At the last second, I ignited my verniers and front flipped over the GM III, lodging my beam sword into it as I did so. Using the momentum from my flip, I pulled the Minovsky-particle filled I-Field down through the GM's body, bisecting it and moving away before the suit detonated.

After my sensors failed to pick up any more hostile suits near my position, I powered up the main thrusters and headed upward, gaining a bird's eye view of the battle.

Although at this point, a mop-up was the more accurate term. This was punctuated by what would have been an eye searing explosion if witnessed by the naked eye as one of the Salamis Kai's reactors finally failed as the ship in question crumpled in on itself. With that ship's death, the battle was over I realized. It had been the only one with its flak guns still active.

That ship had joined another of its brethren in exploding, with the remaining three drifting lifeless in space now. Barely feeling winded, I keyed up the commline for the 2nd Squadron. "This is Squadron Leader. All MS Teams sound off."

"1st Team reporting. No casualties."

"2nd Team reporting. No losses here."

"3rd Team reporting. We're all still flying."

"4th Team reporting. Green across the board Squadron Leader."

"Good to hear 2nd Squadron. Perform a sweep of the area and eliminate any lifeboats that have launched." I responded, before changing channels to Yoshida's frequency.

"1st Squadron, this is Full Frontal. Status report." There was a brief pause as the static that had initially filled the channel cleared out, the result of the high Minovsky particle density that had been achieved.

"This is SquadronLeader sir. All hostiles have been eliminated and there are no casualties to report." Yoshida reported to me, her voice sounding drained as the adrenaline died down for her.

"Copy that 1st Squadron. Sweep the area for any lifeboats, then return to the rear lines. Full Frontal out." I ended the transmission.

Eventually, all four of the MS Teams under my command flew up to my position. All Federation lifeboats that had launched had been destroyed. The new didn't sit well with my conscience but it was a necessary act for the continued safety of the fleet.

"Yoshida, you all cleaned up over there?" I asked the Lieutenant Commander.

"Yes sir, mop-up operations have been completed and we await further orders." The woman responded in a formal tone. With a quick scan of the M particle density, I opened a general comm line.

"This is Full Frontal to all Neo Zeon mobile suits, pull back to rear lines." As all forty mobile suits returned to the staging area, I contacted Dawson.

"You're clear to resume firing captain. I don't want anything smaller than my fist to remain of those ships." I said to the man through the video feed.

"As you command sir." Dawson said with an uncharacteristic grin on his face. "All batteries open fire!" I heard him cry.

And as the mobile suits of Sleeves, my Neo Zeon, returned from their first victory fought alongside their new comrades in arms, friendly chatter, jokes, and ribbing being tossed across the comm channels; I knew that what I had internally termed Operation Unity had been a success.

U.C 0093.12.28 0800 EOST, Lagrange Point 4

Neo Zeon cargo freighter.

"Are you sure about this captain?" The man sitting in the pilot's seat said to me. Zinnerman had donned a normal suit, same as I and the rest of the small party currently onboard this shuttle. The shuttle in question was also the same shuttle that had been used as a distraction, by posing as victims of a pirate attack, for the EFSF patrol fleet we had ambushed. Their purpose was discovered after going over the communication logs on the shuttle, it looked like reports of a spike in pirate activity in this part of the Earth Sphere. Reports, I'm sure, that had nothing to do with the Belt Zeons. The guys who would be flying the shuttle were currently enjoying some fine liquor that I had dug up for them for a job well done.

"Even if I wasn't Zinnerman, I do believe it's a little late for that question." I smoothly replied. I was relaxing in the co-pilot's seat, observing the rapidly growing asteroid in front of us. "Besides, I have complete confidence in you and your team's ability to get us into the spaceport and to our contact."

Zinnerman didn't look as enthused as I was, but that could just be his resting facial expression. I looked back over Zinnerman's team that was along for the ride. Four grunts who I didn't recognize, but I did know the other three. There was Gilboa Saint, the guy who was our 'in' to the asteroid, he was also Zinnerman's second. Sitting next to him was Zinnerman's third, introduced as Flaste Schole, who was manning the comm system. Then there was the last person I recognized, a teenager around the same age as the new Petty Officers onboard the Kalt but whose eyes were far, far too old. Marida Cruz, the last surviving clone of Elpeo Ple and my…..relative I suppose. The same process that created her was used to make me in a way, although the cloning process used for myself was by far superior to the one used on Axis, the root was the same.

She was currently sitting by the freighter's door, completely motionless for the most part and seeming zoned out. I knew this wasn't true as her eyes were firmly fixed on Zinnerman, following every minute movement. In cruder terms, she was like a dog following her master around the house, being sure to stay out of the way but was close enough if something were to happen.

"See captain? The boss has faith in us." Flaste ribbed his commanding officer, with Zinnerman merely huffing in response.

As we passed some invisible boundary, our vessel was hailed by the asteroid. "Approaching Freighter this is the Palau Transit Authority, please identify yourself."

"Showtime." I whispered.

"Copy that Palau Transit Authority, this is the Independent Freighter Panama out of Von Braun, requesting permission to dock for refueling." Flaste said to the nameless person on the other side of the line.

"Request received Panama. You may proceed on the flightpath to Dock 2. Have your papers ready upon landing. Welcome to Palau." The voice directed.

"Nice to hear Palau, Panama out." Flaste replied cheerfully, uploading the flight plan to the ship's computer.

"Now comes the fun part." Zinnerman grumbled. He was probably talking to no one but I chimed in.

"Indeed, we can now get our daily exercise in." Some of the crew chuckled softly while others gave muted groans. At least some people have a sense of humor.

With the uneventful landing complete, Zinnerman left the freighter at its docking moors and he went over to the Transit Authority kiosk to get our slightly doctored registration papers through, with the rest of the crew going about the act of being a freighter crew eager to get a short break. They doffed their normal suits and switched over to regular clothes, with myself throwing on a basic shirt and pants with an accompanying jacket. This left me with a bit of a dilemma, because my face and voice would be very recognizable to anyone who had followed recent events in the last year. So I feel back on one of Char Aznable's oldest tricks: I donned a pair of shades. Combined with my hair far exceeding Char's in his last public appearance, I was confident that one one would recognize me as long as I didn't speak too much.

We loitered at the entrance to wait for Zinnerman, and I used the opportunity to take in the Palau spaceport. It looked barren for lack of a better word. Not dilapidated or falling apart, but I could tell that it was built to handle a lot more traffic than it was receiving, there were only about fifteen ships, including our freighter, present at the moment. Hell, it looked like this spaceport was equipped to handle ships on part with the old blue water container ships from the AD era. Or in more modern terms, ships like those in the Jupiter Energy Fleet.

My examination of the spaceport was halted by Zinnerman's return. "We're in." He said to me. I nodded in response.

"Then let's get to it captain." I said, tilting my head sideways. "I'll follow your lead."

"Right. Gilboa, Flaste go on ahead." Zinnerman began to move our group ahead, directing his men to split off at certain points in a way that made it seem natural. The main spaceport, for ships like ours at least, was directly connected to the residential zone of Palau, a hollowed out asteroid named Corolla B if the signs above us were to be believed. Corolla C's signs seemed to point to an agricultural center. Our destination was Corolla A, the administrative center of the asteroid.

Gilboa was as good as his word on being familiar with the mining asteroid and led us through the various residential blocks. Soon we were at the internal monorail line to travel between the asteroids. Only to find our way blocked by the most insidious of methods.

"Hello sir, and welcome to the Palau monorail system. Please insert your ticket to proceed onto the station." The automated gate chimed at us. The pixelated smiley face on its screen being the only thing standing in our way. Of course, none of us had thought to bring any actual money with us for this trip, or at least I hadn't. I hadn't even seen what Universal Century money looked like.

Zinnerman muttered a curse under his breath. "Flaste, get this thing to let us in." He said to the blonde behind him. The group had dwindled down to just Zinnerman, Gilboa, Flaste, Marida and myself. The rest of those we had brought with us to the asteroid had been dispatched to scout out the interior industrial facilities on Calyx, the main mining hub of the asteroid. If they reported back what had been said was there, then we were in business and this trip wouldn't be a waste of fuel.

"On it boss." Flaste replied, drawing a multitool from his pocket and kneeling down to begin fiddling with the gate's consol. The rest of us shielding him from view,

"Is it not an option to simply pay for the tickets?" I whispered to Gilboa.

He shook his head. "Wish it was that simple, but the rates appear to have spiked up since last we were here." I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. They made people pay for a monorail service?

"Just how many people live on Palau?" I asked Gilboa.

He rubbed the back of his head in thought. "Well sir, my best guess would be around eighty thousand people, give or take a bit."

I guess that would warrant paying for public transportation. I heard the zap of an electric shock, followed by a muted yelp from Flaste. He wasn't having the best of times with the console and the noise made us look around to make sure that no one had heard us. Matters seemed to drag on longer and longer as we waited.

Finally it looked like Zinnerman had enough. "Flaste, step back." He nodded to Marida, who was at his side. She walked into the middle of our huddle, and slammed her boot into the middle of the console. A brief pause, then the machine chimed at us.

"Thank you for your patronage, valued customer. Enjoy your trip on the Palau monorail system, brought to you by Anaheim Electronics." It repeated its programmed lines cheerfully.

We made it to the platform and slipped onto the monorail train that was headed to Corolla A. The monorail was remarkably fast, as we reached the marked public section of Corolla A in around five minutes. I mused that the monorail could have a fusion reactor powering it.

"This way." Gilboa directed us, as we took on a faster pace. We bypassed the main grouping of buildings that were marked as things like 'Courthouse', 'Post Office', 'Vehicle Registration' and so on. Unlike the spaceport or the monorail station there were guards around now. Regular police from the looks of their uniforms. But definitely not military, which was comforting to a degree.

Using back passages and paths that kept us away from whatever surveillance systems these people used, our group of five made it to the residence of the Governor General of Palau. Which was guarded by a gate. With armed guards. With guns.

At least the residence was just as austentatious as I remembered it. The modern take on Enlightenment French architecture with gleaming white paint and faux gold detailing covered the front, and high glass windows that the artificial lighting gleamed off of.

I looked at Zinnerman. "Let's not wait around. It'd be rude to keep our host waiting." I walked out of the concealed area we had been in, and strode towards the iron gate. My subordinates falling back into the role of subordinates as they fell in behind me.

Whether the guard was just befuddled by a group of people just walking up to their posts or they were just lazy in carrying out their duties, we weren't hailed until we were in talking distance of the gate.

One of the guards glanced up at us, looked back to what he had been doing, then processed what he had seen. His head jerked up in surprise, and he fumbled to grab his sidearm before training it in our general area.. "H-Halt!" He fumbled over his speech. "Identify ourselves immediately!"

I felt those behind me tense and held up an arm to stop them from moving.

"Hello there!" I greeted the guard, sounding like I was out for a midday stroll. "I have a meeting with Governor Pepe scheduled today."

Now another guard, female, had joined her partner at the gate and was speaking into her earpiece.

"Bullshit." The first guard state. "There is no 'blonde and shady with bad fashion taste' on the itinerary, nor is a group of vagrant." He readjusted his grip on his firearm, which I realized was incorrect. "So I suggest you leave now, before my superiors arrive."

"I can assure you, I do have a meeting with the Governor." I raised my hands face up. "I have the invitation in right here if you wish to see it."

"Fine but slowly." The female guard interjected. I smiled in response and withdrew a piece of tablet paper, which powered on to show what amounted to a letter, a little something I found after some digging in Char's tablet, on it. I walked up to the guards, not minding how the male one tensed, and presented it to the female guard. She took it and moved two steps away to look it over. Basically the message boiled down to whoever presented this letter was a very important VIP to the Governor General and they and their party are to be treated with all possible respect. The personal seal of Palau, the Governor's seal, and his own signature marked its veracity. After the female guard finished reading, nervousness was on her face.

"Jacques, open the gate." She said. The male looked ready to protest

"Now." She all but growled. Jacques nodded.

The iron gates opened like a pair of sliding doors, sinking into the brick wall that they were attached to. The female guard saluted me as she handed the invitation letter back.

"If you wouldn't find waiting for a brief time sir while we notify the Governor General Pepe of your arrival." This one is professional. "A waiting foyer is available for your use if that would be towards your liking."

I returned the tablet paper to my coat. "That would be appreciated." I nodded genially to the female guard.

"Very well sir. Please follow me."

Now all there was to do was get a handle on the character of this Pepe and see how genuine his interest in the cause of Neo Zeon was.