Hey, peeps~! Here's the next chapter of The Phoenix Rising. And let's just say that there's gonna be more intel and searching for secrets... :3 As well as a fierce battle that will strip the AF of a key asset... ;3
Review replies:
- Spiceracksargent001: Oh, you have no idea. ;3 I've been wanting to do this for some time! XD
- operation meteor: Heh. Glad ya enjoyed. ;3 And yep. I love writing this stuff out! XD
- CT7567Rules: Glad ya liked it. :) And yes, Blue Cosmos/LOGOs are supposed to be the worst of the worst. And as for the President calling Mr. Ramius, well... she's gonna not call him, but she does have vague a plan to shut down Norfolk. ;)
(A pair of optics flashes online before lights flare on to show the Strike Dagger S in its hangar bay, Spray standing atop its shoulder with an American flag held in one hand, his trench coat draped across his shoulders like a cape)
START MIKAKUNIN HIKOUSEN BY TAKAYOSHI TANIMOTO
(The pilot tosses the American flag off to the side as he leaps off his machine's shoulder, the camera following the flag as it flutters down to the hangar floor)
Oh yeah! Be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The camera moves up to show the Strike Dagger S engaged with the Perfect Sword Strike, both pilots superimposed over their machines as their blades clash)
Pass the orbit beyond the sky (The two break off before flying towards one another again, Spray shown with Earth in the background, his eyes in SEED Mode as he grits his teeth)
I can't hold back this rushing speed (Dennis Krantz is shown with a large, shadowy shape in the background as he charges in, his eyes wide in his fury)
A familiar town becomes a diorama (The camera follows both pilots as they clash in a flash of light, the camera panning down to show the Resistance base in Mexico, Dr. Keith Martinez and Commander Ibara standing before it)
Burst through the unclear skies (The skies are shown to be covered in clouds as the camera pans up and over, coming down to show Rear Admiral Dorana Xen as she stands in a land battleship, arms crossed, a large army of AI-controlled suits before her)
Blow away your worries and discontent (The rear admiral sneers as she watches the resistance fighting bravely, but unable to do much to stop her, only for a flash of a beam saber to cut across the screen)
Who needs a journey that's by the book? (The camera pans to the right to show a gray-colored mobile suit as it spins around, glowing blue optics locking onto Xen's eyes)
Even if you're lost or trembling, raise the altitude (The machine climbs up, becoming a small speck in the sky, only for a second machine to come down, showing it to be the Demolition Dagger as it lands in front of Paris, looking up as the camera shows Kyle behind it)
Oh yeah! Show off, mess up, and stand back up (The Demolition Dagger attacks the closest Atlantian Daggers before the camera is blinded by thick black smoke, only to fade to show Wing Zero stand up in the middle of a damaged naval base)
I'll watch the unknown horizon with you (The camera is engulfed in flames before they blow apart to show Eisenhower standing atop the warehouse, three other figures standing behind her as the sun sets before her)
Now be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The camera moves to the right as it shows Eisenhower leaping off the building, a pair of mechanical phoenix wings sprouting from her back)
Use the sun that lights tomorrow as a guide (Above her is shown Spray Krane in his own machine, reaching out for the light of the sun as it shines above a new, futuristic city)
Fly off to the glorious world of freedom! (The scene freezes with all the major players flying towards a shining world, stars around all of them)
GUNDAM WING: THE PHOENIX RISING
Let justice be done, though the heavens may fall
- Steven Jackson 'Spray' Krane
CHAPTER XX: Buzzy Bees
December 5/6th, CE 0073
Chihuahuan Desert, Mexico
The Jeep was parked a fair distance away from the compound, and Jim sat in the driver's seat this time while Casal gripped a pair of binoculars as she scanned the perimeter.
"Looks like they're starting to make their moves," she muttered.
"And by that you mean they're preparing to attack?" Jim asked.
"Hardly," Casal snorted. "They're preparing for defense."
Jim knew what she meant by that.
The way the Atlantians had been moving over the last twenty-four hours was a dead giveaway that they were preparing for when the resistance made their move. It was only a matter of time, he knew. The only issue was the timing of the move.
His gaze landed upon the huge hangar that was for the mobile monstrosity known only as the Destroy. They had rightly chosen to remove the word 'Gundam' from its designation, seeing as how it was not a Gundam, but just a plain outright monstrosity good only for destroying entire cities. And that kind of warfare had to end. Targeting innocents was beyond the low. It was a barbarian action, and that was enough to make him grit his teeth as he gripped the steering wheel in anger.
"Jim."
Hearing Casal's voice made him snap back to reality as he glanced to the woman beside him.
"What?" he asked.
"We're done here." She lowered the binoculars. "Let's go. We have to move."
He nodded and started the Jeep, gunning the engine and peeling out of there, leaving a trail of dust behind them.
He took a chance to look back at the sickening compound and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Damn them..." he muttered. "Why go to such lengths with children?"
"We'll have to ask the 'good' doctor when we capture him," Casal said seriously. "In fact, I think it might be best to not just ask, but interrogate that information out of him."
Jim knew what she meant when she said that, although he did grimace. "Should we really resort to such things?" he asked.
"It's necessary in times of war to go as far as we can without delving into barbarities," Casal admitted. "But sometimes people go too far and fail to get the results or information they need." Her eyes hardened. "Unlike the Atlantians, we will not delve into barbarism when it comes to interrogation."
"I sure as hell hope not..." Jim muttered as he glared at the compound in the rearview mirror.
"I know how you feel," Casal mused, "and rest assured, we will do our best to abstain from the brutalities of the Atlantians. Provided we can break through their... conditioning... that is."
Jim scowled at that. He adjusted the wheel a bit to the left as the Jeep bounced over the desert terrain. While it wasn't much colder than in the American Southwest, it was a lot bumpier given the mountains out here. "I just wish we could give LOGOs a big one right to the nuts."
Here Casal laughed out loud. "You and me both, Jim!" she chuckled. "I know exactly how you feel."
Jim cracked a grin. "Glad to know I'm not the only one!"
The trip back to the satellite base was otherwise silent. The whole time Casal and Jim mentally compiled the data they had gathered today, as well as what to report to Keith, who had become the de facto commander of this section of the resistance. While he was a good commander, his real talents lay with hacking and developing new ways to counter LOGOs' cybernetic back doors for their own operating systems. In fact, that was where he felt the most at home, they knew.
So for him to be commanding the base in Mexico was something outside his comfort zone.
But this time, he had no choice.
The Jeep sped into view of the satellite base, the guards noticing the vehicle and radioing to the duo as they approached.
Jim recited the code phrase and the guards gave them the go-ahead to pass on through.
When the Jeep pulled into the underground parking, it was already midnight.
Jim was already feeling exhaustion creeping up on him, but he ignored it, forcing himself to stay focused on the matter at hand. He shook his head as he got out of the Jeep. Casal was in the same boat as he was, but she was handling it better than he was, he saw. Her eyes were focused, and despite the dark circles, she still looked like she was more refreshed than him.
An electric cart came up to them, the driver waving. "You got the intel?" she called.
"Yes, we did!" Casal replied.
"Good! Dr. Martinez wants you to come to the command center, and then you can get some sleep," the driver remarked as she brought the cart to a stop before them. The two scouts got into the vehicle and she floored it, jostling them a bit. Jim's hand flew for the overhead bar and he grasped it in a death grip as Casal merely shifted her weight to stay upright.
'Man... I wish I had military experience...' he thought glumly.
The cart sped along through the many tunnels of the base, passing by a few people on the night shift. The base was otherwise empty, allowing them to get to the command center in less time than it would normally take. The driver brought the electric cart to a stop skillfully and parked it, allowing the two to get out.
The guards outside the command center gave them the go ahead to pass through. The door hissed open as the two rebels made their way inside.
Inside, the place was busy a madhouse.
Dr. Martinez stood before the main monitor, his eyes looking a bit haggard, but still sharp and focused.
He turned as he heard their footsteps and he nodded once. "Good. You made it," he said. "I take it you finished your mission?"
"Yes, sir," Jim said as he saluted, trying to avoid a yawn.
The AI expert's face softened with sympathy. "After this, you can get some rest, Jim. You look like you need it."
The former mailman nodded. "Yeah."
He gestured for the two to take a seat. They both did so and the main monitor flashed, showing the layout of the compound not too far from the base. "Okay. So tell me flat out. What are we dealing with in terms of defenses?"
Casal took the chance to stand and walk up to the main monitor. "Here's what we could see, aside from the main hangar where that Destroy is being stored."
The monitor lit up, showing the hangar as a small rotating image to the side of the compound's layout.
"The compound's perimeter is heavily organized in terms of defenses. The first layer is basically a perimeter of anti-aircraft guns. That means our fliers will have to be very careful with them," she explained. "Then there is the perimeter wall. That alone could give our Lotos a run for their money. Our NEMOs could perhaps breach them using their Clay Bazookas, but that's a bit risky. The main gate is a monster of a doorway, and it's made of solid steel. A single hit won't be enough to break it down. But our Blasts could pull it off with the help of Turbine."
"And their mobile suits?" Keith inquired.
"Windams, the lot of them," Jim yawned. "A whole slew of 'em. Mostly the Multi Striker Pack variant, aside from a few Dopplehorns mixed in."
"That's bad news," someone else muttered.
Keith pursed his lips as he looked at the monitor. "And the hangar houses a Destroy. That's even worse," he rumbled.
"Yes, sir," Casal said.
Keith bowed his head.
He had a few ideas...
. . .
Camden, New Jersey
Atlantian Reich
December 6th, CE 0073
The night was as quiet as one could get.
Very few people were out and about after the mandatory nine o' clock curfew that had been established in the wake of the Bell Riots in neighboring Philadelphia not even four days ago.
And it was just as well.
After the riots, the LOGOs-planted mayor and city council put the curfew into place and strictly enforced it with the loyal thugs of the Atlantian Reich. The leaders of the resistance cell in the city had wisely chosen to refrain from heading out unless it was under cover of darkness to get needed supplies for their safe houses or other bases scattered across the area.
But this also was a key time for a new plan to be put into place.
This new plan was the brainchild of the Secretary of Defense himself.
The docks were as silent as a tomb as black-clad vehicles came up alongside the destination in question, lights shut down and engines as silent as possible. The cars glided to a stop and the doors opened, allowing their occupants to come out, also clad in black, but in black tactical gear instead.
The resistance was not taking any chances in case LOGOs had gotten wind of this new plan.
Or at least the legal version of it.
The leader of this team looked to the others and gave a firm nod before rushing forward. They split up, circling around and making their way through the former Freedom Mortgage Pavilion, their weapons held at the ready for any possible Atlantian soldiers guarding the old ship.
Thankfully there were none.
But there was someone observing them from the bridge of the old ship with narrowed eyes.
The person turned and exited the bridge, making their way through the corridors of the old vessel before exiting out into the snowy landscape.
As the resistance fighters inched their way closer to the ship, someone suddenly raised a hand. "Hold it!" they hissed into their radio. "We got someone!"
"Who is it?" another member asked.
"I dunno, but weapons ready!" the man whispered.
The resistance soldiers armed their weapons and held them at the ready. Clacks could be heard as they chambered rounds and locked and loaded. They held their guns up at chest level as the person raised both hands in surrender as they approached.
The person coming towards them was not armed, much to their mutual surprise. But given the reputation of the Atlantian Reich's soldiers, it made sense they'd be on guard and prepared for anything. The person kept their hands raised as they kept walking, eyes fixed on the black-clad soldiers.
One soldier held up a flashlight and flicked it on, startling the man as he was revealed. He had to close his eyes as the soldier scowled.
"Who are you?" she asked, lowering the flashlight towards the ground and dimming it.
The man rubbed his eyes with one hand as he tried to let them readjust to the darkness. "Next time, would a red light be preferable instead of blinding someone at night?" he grumbled.
"We don't want anyone to see us, let alone get the jump on us," the woman remarked, ready to blind him if he tried anything. "So, just who are you?"
"Ah... That's something you should know, given the circumstances, right?" the man responded. "I have a feeling I know why you're here. And it's not for a tour, given how late it is after all."
The soldier glanced to her superior who stepped forward.
"You'd be right on the money, sir," the older woman said, her eyes hard as she gazed at him directly.
The man did not flinch as he glanced to the ship behind him. "So... I was right then. You came for him, didn't you?"
The woman nodded once.
"Then we have a lot to discuss..." the man said. "Come on in. It's too cold out here."
The soldiers proceeded to make their way towards the ship as their superior and the man went inside to discuss the deal ahead of them...
. . .
Chihuahuan Desert, Mexico
December 6th, CE 0073
The morning sun was just beginning to poke over the horizon.
To Marcus, it was just the beginning of the end.
The beginning of the end for the Extended program.
A smirk crossed his face as he sat in the cockpit of his Blast, eyeing the surroundings as his machine sat crouched behind the nearest mountain. He placed both feet on his console as he glanced at the nearest of his companions, who just so happened to be Turbine.
Despite the fact that he was an AI, Marcus really found he liked Turbine. The fact he was more or less so curious about new things and the sweetness of his disposition was also enough to show how different from other AIs he was.
Currently, the AI was crouched over a nearby cactus patch, studying it closely with the curiosity of a young child. The scene looked rather comedic to some, with a huge, imposing war machine looming over a tiny cactus patch. But given the advanced sensors aboard the Gundam Turbine was in, it wasn't that far of a stretch for him to be examining something in detail, Marcus admitted silently.
In all honesty, it was actually kind of cute, really.
The AI was just like a little kid in some respects, but in others he was a fearsome opponent, especially when his friends and family were on the line.
A cough reached his hearing and he turned his gaze away from Turbine to face the main monitor of his machine as it flickered, the screen showing the image of Dr. Martinez as he sat in the main command center of the central satellite base. "You are all in position, I assume?" he noted.
Marcus gave a grin. "You got it, sir," he said. "All of us are standing by."
"Good." Keith gave a nod. "Now, here's the situation. I know you've been debriefed on what to expect, but I'll run it by you once more." His eyes hardened as he started to speak.
. . .
"The first obstacle to overcome are the Windams. We'll be leaving those for the Lotos and NEMOs to remove from play. The GMs will be providing jamming coverage should the need arise. Tanks will also act as a distraction and additional cover."
The interior of the satellite base's hangars was shown, pilots getting into their machines as mechanics finished some last minute adjustments to them. A few people gave each other hugs or kisses, and one person even offered an engagement ring, earning some applause from a crowd of onlookers.
The tanks awaiting deployment sat ready, engines in idle as their crews got into their assigned vehicles. A number of individuals underwent a few rituals before mounting their steeds and getting ready for combat. It was not uncommon for pilots to do such a thing, but in recent days tankers had taken to adopting a few of their customs as well.
. . .
"The second obstacle is the wall. That can easily be breached with a number of Clay Bazooka rounds, as well as tank rounds. So our forces will have to hold and clear a path for the breaching teams. It's essential that we do not let any Windams get close to the teams while they carry out their work."
A number of Jeeps were also marked for deployment, and for good reason. Some of them carried personnel earmarked to help breach the main walls. Their explosives were not going to be enough to break them on their own, but when in conjunction with the tanks and Clay Bazooka rounds, the breach was assured.
The captain of the team was already in her Jeep and she turned to face the rest of the vehicles as the doors began to slide open, giving a command over the radio. Engines started, rumbling all throughout the parking garage.
. . .
"The final obstacle to take out is the Destroy, or if there are multiple, Destroys. That we will leave to Strider and Retribution Squadrons. They will be the ones to either take it out or capturing the pilot. I would highly recommend taking it out. But capture is also viable, providing our attack troops can get the necessary data to stall the Extended."
The eight units of Strider Squadron hunkered down behind the mountains, observing the Extended compound with all sensors and optic cameras locked onto it. Retribution Squadron crouched close by, the pilots all tense for battle. Turbine looked up from the cactus patch and was briefed once more by Diane before he nodded and got into position.
The huge hangar doors on the building within the compound started to swing open, and the hulking form of the Destroy lumbered out in mobile armor mode, making shivers run down the spines and spinal struts of the team assigned to take it out. Even now it still gave off an air of intimidation, and Marcus wondered just how low these men were willing to go to ensure the destruction of Coordinators.
He turned his gaze back to Keith as he continued.
"As for the time limit, we have to snatch this lab before the next reporting comes in from it. Transmissions from the base have to be cut off by that time and then reestablished soon after to make it seem like a malfunction occurred. Such things aren't uncommon out here," he stated. "Just remember: no collateral damage to the lab or any of the buildings. Our goal is to take it. And capture Dr. Sung while we're at it. The operation starts in two."
"One question before we begin," Marcus remarked.
"Yeah? What is it?" Keith asked.
"What's the name of the op?" Marcus inquired.
Keith pursed his lips, then sighed. "I wasn't planning on giving it a name, but since you put me on the spot, we'll go with Bumblebee."
"Operation: Bumblebee?" Marcus quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry, but why that?"
Keith just shrugged.
"Okay, people! You move out in five!" came another voice.
The pilots all sat up and straightened their machines as Turbine flexed his wings.
"Four!"
The tanks and other units began to deploy as the doors opened, letting them out into the desert wilderness.
"Three!"
Marcus gritted his teeth in anticipation.
"Two!"
Diane and George both faced the compound, eyes hard.
"One!"
Keith held up a hand on the monitor.
"Commence Operation: Bumblebee!" he barked.
"Yes, sir!" came the collective cry.
As they took to the skies and dashed across the ground, no one realized just how big this battle would become...
Or what it would hold for the future as a whole.
. . .
Marcus gritted his teeth as his Blast dashed into the air, his "Trident Striker" Linear Rifle held tightly in his machine's left hand, the defense rods on the right arm beginning to spin as he brought it up in a defensive manner. The whirling blades gleamed under the light of the rising sun as he braked his machine, a salvo of fire from the nearest Windams raining down on him.
The defense rod worked as the designers had intended, deflecting the beam rounds and taking the hits from the Dopplehorn model Windams. He grunted as he felt his machine rattle from the impacts, but he ignored it and brandished his rifle, aiming it and firing a single 200mm round right for the nearest cluster of Windams. The prototype high-explosive round impacted the ground, sending dirt and debris everywhere, peppering the Windams and damaging their armor, causing some to explode and others to collapse from the damage to their frames.
He grinned at the sight. "Now this is how to wage war!" he remarked. "Just soldiers, not kids, doing the fighting!"
"For once, I agree," Turbine's deep voice rumbled over his cockpit speakers. "Soldiers should be the ones fighting in war. Not children." The AI's frame was a blur of gray as he slashed through a cluster of Multi Striker Windams before they could get a salvo off. The machines fell to the ground, holes in their chests right where the cockpit was. Turbine was nothing if efficient, he admitted mentally.
"Heh. Glad ya think so, Turbine!" Marcus laughed.
Turbine didn't even answer. He just continued the attack.
Marcus turned his focus back to the Windams as they attacked him. He broke into a run, keeping the defense rod in front of his machine's chest. He gritted his teeth as he charged at the enemy machines, startling their pilots. A number of them aimed their beam rifles at the incoming Blast, but Marcus pressed down on the booster throttle and the engines on his machine's back flared, pushing him into the air and over their shots. One aimed their rifle skyward, but he reacted by shutting down his Blast's defense rod. The blades stopped whirring and he took the time to draw out the ES01 beam saber, igniting it in a swift movement of violet energy. He paused for a moment, his machine poised against the rising sun before he swung the beam saber, cutting the round clean in half, surprising the enemy pilot who fired on him.
The rebel ace dove down, a cry escaping him as he aimed his linear rifle and fired, sending two 60mm rounds for the group of Windams. Two of the Dopplehorns in the group fired, but he swerved to the left and right with ease as he pulled back, the rounds from his gun hitting the Windams and taking out four in one hit. He suddenly felt a jolt as he was slammed hard by something. He jostled in his cockpit restraints as he shook his head, trying to get his bearings.
He looked up, just in time to see a Windam with its beam saber drawn back, ready to impale him in the cockpit.
The Natural ace gritted his teeth as he reacted, bringing his Blast's linear rifle up and bashing the Windam in the chest, the force of the impact knocking the machine off balance and allowing him to draw one of his legs close to the chest of his own machine before stomping down on the foot pedal in the cockpit. The leg of his Blast lashed out, nailing the other machine in the gut and forcing it off him. Marcus got his Blast to its feet as he glared at the Windam before he pressed the throttles and gunned it.
The flare of thruster fire erupted from the back of his machine and he felt that pressure settling on his chest as he aimed the beam saber in front of him and stabbing the Windam in the chest before breaking off and boosting back as the machine exploded.
Off to the side he could see Diane and George working in perfect sync to take down a number of Multi Striker Windams. The Blast and NEMO carved through them with the same brutal efficiency as Turbine, making Marcus wonder just how close they were to the AI to mimic a bit of his fighting style. Regardless, he forced that aside as he turned back to the next opponent as they came at him.
His eyes narrowed as he crouched, preparing for the strike.
The Jet Windam charged at him, flying low above the ground, and Marcus reacted by leaping into the air with a burst of fire from his machine's thrusters. The Blast flipped around and he brought the left foot down in a nasty drop kick, slamming it into the right wing of its Jet Striker pack.
'Dammit...! I know Keith said to leave the Windams to the Lotos and NEMOs, but these guys are attacking us like crazy! Do they even know what we're attacking?!' Marcus thought as he watched the Windam plummet to the ground, landing flat on its back as two Lotos sped in. One of them spun around and the rear hatch opened, allowing eight soldiers, all kitted out, to come running out. One of the soldiers pulled off their helmet, revealing a woman with short brown hair and grey eyes. The soldiers approached the Windam and scrambled atop the cockpit as a NEMO approached and pried open the hatch. The man inside was hauled out by two other soldiers and the woman revealed herself, earning a harsh spate of swearing only for her to slug the man in the groin with her rifle's barrel, making his face go pale at that.
Marcus tore his gaze away and turned it back to the next Windam.
Only for a barrage of missiles to slam into it as the pilot brought their shield to bear, but barely.
He glanced back just in time to see the Lotos and NEMOs coming in, armed and ready to fight. A group of three Lotos was at the front of the incoming forces, and behind them were the tanks themselves. Unlike the linear tanks in use, these were inspired by the last Abrams model built prior to the Reconstruction War all those years ago: the M2A1 Abrams.
While the original Abrams line had been state-of-the-art for its time, it was a new generation of warfare that led to the development of the M2A1, which had been smaller, but faster and well armed with a 130 mm smoothbore gun. The tank also had been equipped with a slew of counter drones designed to intercept missiles or to act as a scouting force if the need arose. A 12.5 mm coaxial machine gun had been equipped to the top beside the commander's hatch and the armor had been refitted to be able to take a pair of anti-tank missiles, most notably the infamous Javelin anti-tank missile. The top armor had been thickened slightly while being toughened by incorporating better materials. A pair of bulldozer blades had been mounted onto the front as well, allowing for the new tank to be able to detonate anti-tank mines or plow its way through debris fields.
The M2A1 was something of an oddity in the modern era of the mobile suit, but its sheer ruggedness and the fact it was faster than the original was another factor in its return to the field of battle.
And it was showing itself why it had been truly one of the best tanks in the US military.
A pair of Abrams raised their guns, and a moment later, two rounds fired, arcing right for the closest pair of Windams. They did move to block, but the sheer force of the gun projecting the shells was enough to allow the charges to breach the shields and slam right into the torsos of the mobile suits. They exploded, and Marcus smirked as he shifted his gaze back to the Lotos.
As soon as the tanks stopped, they then transformed from tank form to MS mode. The front half of the tank separated, revealing the front was actually the legs of this mobile suit, and the feet snapped into position. At the same time, lower legs snapped into place as well. The torso moved upwards and snapped the upper half of the machine, which was revealed to be the rear of the tank, into place. The arms, which were equipped with the missile launcher containers on the lower arms in place of standard manipulators, detached from the sides and moved away from the main body before the shoulders slid down and locked into place. The last thing to happen was the head emerged from the chest as a red visor flared to life.
A number of pilots began to fire on the Lotos, but they moved swiftly, relying on their smaller size and slimmer profile to evade much of the fire. One Loto aimed its missile launchers and the hatch covers flipped open, six missiles firing from the top hatches. The warheads sped right for a number of Windams, causing them to scatter, only for the machines to get hit and explode. Two missiles missed and flew off course, exploding against the wall and causing a large crater to form in its structure. One of the NEMOs took the chance to aim its Clay Bazooka and fired, sending an explosive round right for it.
The round hit the wall and caused a tremendous detonation, which threw debris and rubble everywhere.
Marcus smirked at the sight. "Yes!" he muttered.
"About time!" came Strider-2's voice.
Marcus couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah. But..." His voice became serious as he eyed the hangar. "Something tells me we'll be facing the big guns soon..."
"And by that, you mean the Destroy," Strider-5 responded.
The ace pilot nodded. "Yeah. So be on your toes, people! And do not die!"
"Yes, sir!" they responded as one.
. . .
For what it was worth, Turbine was anything but pleased at what he had learned so far about this place.
A lab dedicated to turning children into supersoldiers.
It sounded like something out of a comic book.
But no. It was reality.
And he wanted answers as to why this had to be done.
His very frame was tense as he eyed the layout of the compound from the air. He could already see AA defenses swinging around to deal with the fliers, of which there were only twelve. Diane was down below in a NEMO, not a Blast like George or the rest of Strider Squadron, or even himself.
But despite this shortcoming, these were all ace pilots he was working with.
And that was a good thing in his opinion.
A loud roar caught his attention and he looked down to see a trio of Lotos firing on the Windams, keeping them distracted as the shapes of the GMs with their Jammer Packs moved into position. He watched as their antennae were raised, and he braced for the eerie sensation of his radar going offline.
And it was just as well.
This would render the compound unable to communicate with the outside world and keep them from getting reinforcements. The only issue was if they could complete the attack in five minutes or less.
And that was pushing it.
He knew that he and his kin were not trained for this, and nor could they engage it unless they were sure they had no other means of communication.
Turbine, therefore, had elected to scout out any possible means of communication the resistance had overlooked in their initial scouting.
While he would've preferred it to be done over the course of a week, there was just no time. If they could get this lab now, then the Atlantians would be down to only a few in the mainland United States, which would be claimed by the rebels once the revolution started.
He turned his focus to the arrays of antennae mounted to the buildings. A scan from his sensors indicated these were radio antenna and satellite dishes. That was one thing that could be jammed. It was what lay underground that concerned him. His optics flickered as he shifted his vision to thermal, picking out lines down beneath the compound.
"Sir," he relayed, "I've picked up fiber optic cables underneath the compound."
"Dammit... That's bad news," Keith muttered. "That means they can still transmit data and get a signal out if we don't take them out." Turbine swore he could hear his father rubbing his forehead with his fingers.
"What do we do about that?" Turbine asked.
"Gimme a moment to think," Keith ordered. "In the meantime, proceed as planned, but be ready to adapt if the need arises."
"Yes, sir!" Turbine said.
He cut the line and returned to the fight.
His optics flickered as he flew overhead, blasting towards the compound's walls. If he could just get over them...
"Turbine! Hold it!"
The AI halted, hearing the cry from Kevin.
"Captain?" He turned his helm to look at the GM as it approached, its antenna raised. "What is it, sir?"
"You go beyond those walls, it's all over for you," Kevin warned. "We're not ready to get there yet."
"But sir..." Turbine was about to protest, only for a salvo of missiles from the Multi-Striker Windams to come their way!
The AI reacted with uncanny speed that surprised even himself. He moved before he could even think, which was saying something as his processing speed was faster than that of a human's. He flared his wings and dashed forward, slamming headlong into Kevin's GM, knocking him down and causing both to hit the dirt hard. Kevin cried out as he was jostled, but Turbine did what he could to cushion the blow by grasping the GM in a sort of hug and twisting his frame so he landed on his side, trying to avoid his wings getting hit or damaged severely by the impact.
A sensation of prickling at his armor plating ran across his sensory net, but he ignored it and braced himself as he rammed into a rock, causing a sensation akin to needles to race down his shoulder and back. Turbine grunted as debris from the rock landed around him and on his frame. Thankfully the impact's force had been reduced by the friction on the ground. He moved his arms and placed a servo on the ground, pushing himself into a somewhat crouching position to remove the rocks and smaller boulders. His readout flashed in the lower left hand corner of his HUD, and a sigh of relief escaped his vents.
The damage wasn't as bad as he had feared.
"Ugh... Man! Those Windams are a real danger!" Kevin grunted as he got his GM to its feet, swaying under the weight of its Jammer Pack.
"You said it..." Turbine muttered as he glanced at them.
"Turbine! Are you all right?!" Keith called into his COMM.
The AI nodded as he got to his feet. "Yes, Father. I'm fine," he replied. "But we have to find a way to get into the compound."
"We got that covered!" the AI expert remarked. "There's been a breach on the north side wall. The breaching teams, NEMOs and Lotos were able to break it open so we can enter."
"All right!" Kevin said, pumping his fist inside the cockpit of his GM.
Keith nodded as his image appeared on Turbine's HUD alongside Kevin's. "Turbine, you and the rest of your unit and Strider Squadron are to go in and find that Destroy to remove it from the field. The Jammer teams will stand by in case there is an attempt to send a satellite transmission."
"Uh, sir? I hate to interrupt but..." a female voice cut in. "...they're attempting to send a signal out!"
"Dammit...!" Keith swore. "And I was hoping to not have that happen ahead of time...!"
"I'll get my team on it," Kevin assured his superior. "We'll have this compound covered in Mirage Colloid in no time."
"Just make sure that every inch is covered!" Keith snapped.
The Natural nodded. "Yes, sir!"
The image of Kevin's helmeted face vanished as he turned his gaze to the firefight now raging at the breach in the wall. Already Turbine could see his friends and fellow squad mates heading into the fray.
It was time to go to work.
. . .
Marcus grunted as he pulled his machine to the left, barely dodging some AA fire as he released a pair of missiles from his machine's shoulders. The missiles streaked for the AA guns and exploded against them before he flipped his Blast around, aiming his "Trident Striker" at a few Windams below.
They seemed to have had some form of common sense as they slowly backed away he mused as he kept his rifle aimed at them.
One of the pilots then raised his machine's hands, dropping the rifle it held and speaking to his teammates, if their machines raising their own hands was any indication. The Windams then knelt as more soldiers swarmed around them in Jeeps and Lotos, the Lotos aiming their missile launchers at the Atlantian soldiers as they emerged from the cockpits.
Marcus turned his gaze back towards the fighting raging below, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the huge shape of the hangar ahead.
Already he could see that the doors were starting to open, and he gritted his teeth. "Dammit...! They're deploying that monstrosity!" he growled into the COMM.
"Shit...! That's not good!" Kevin snarled.
Marcus nodded grimly.
"We have to stop it," Strider-2 hissed. "And now."
The leader of Strider Squadron's eyes were hidden in shadow as he gripped the controls of his machine tightly in his hands. He swore he would break the controls he was clutching them so hard. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes closed.
In his mind's eye, he saw the light blue jewel-like seed falling, spinning as it did so. The jewel hit the surface of the water and shattered, a red ring around the nova of light as it exploded. His eyes snapped open, revealing them to be glazed, the pupils smaller and the irises bigger. "Striders 2 and 3, you go for the Destroy's hangar. If there is another one, you are to take it down or damage it before it can be deployed!" he ordered. "Strider 4, you're with me! Striders 5 through 8, you attack the vehicle bays! We are to not allow Dr. Sung to escape this place!"
"Yes, sir!" came the reply.
The eight members split up into their respective units, with Turbine joining the attackers going for the Destroy. George and Diane split up as well, with Diane going for the vehicle bays with the rest of the unit. George was attaching himself to the unit going for the hangar bay in response.
Marcus's eyes narrowed as he watched the Destroy lumbering forward in its mobile suit form instead of its mobile armor form.
'Going for the most damage right off the bat...' he mused. 'Looks like the good doctor is intent on taking us down... no matter what it costs him.'
. . .
Dr. Sung frowned as he observed the battle raging around the compound's external walls.
He had to admit whomever was attacking was bold enough to launch an attack on such a scale.
The fact that many people were assaulting the place was one thing.
But the fact that the majority of those attacking were mobile suit pilots was another.
And then there was the fact that these people were members of a large resistance movement.
His eyes hardened as he looked to his second-in-command. "Are the Destroys prepared?" he asked.
The man nodded. "Yes, sir. The Extended are ready to deploy at your command," he said with a bow.
Dr. Sung nodded. "Then deploy them. These rebels will soon learn the true power of the Kingdom of Gilead..."
. . .
The two men stood before the fighting as it raged around the compound.
The two massive forms lumbered before them, looking like massive sentinels of old legends. Dr. Sung had a sneer on his face as he observed the fighting, the two top pilots sitting in the cockpits like meaty computer terminals. Their eyes were half-lidded and glazed, a sign of the intense mental conditioning done to make them the organic computers they had become.
He held up a small mike that was keyed to the frequencies of both machines.
"Extended Version 3.0 06660... Devil denies death."
The girl, who was no older than twelve, jerked as her eyes widened and she screamed briefly as her command code was triggered, bringing her online for battle. She closed her eyes and when they opened, there was nothing but bloodlust in them. A sneer that was more befitting a serial killer crossed her face and she cackled as she gripped her controls, pushing them to the limit and her machine burst into a run as she was let loose off the leash, so to speak.
Dr. Sung then turned his gaze to the next machine.
"Extended Version 3.0 60606... Angels anger all."
The boy, only a year older than the girl, jerked as his eyes widened and he gasped as he heard his command code bringing him online for the fight. He closed his eyes, and when they opened, he had in them a look more befitting a crusader from the twelfth century, AD. He brought both his machine's hands together in prayer before he spread them and fired them off, the forearms acting as remote drones.
These two were complete opposites of one another in their command codes, and in a way of their programming as well.
One was more geared towards a crusade, the other was nothing but a devil in human flesh.
And it was the girl who would provide them the answer to their problem of the Extended programming.
Dr. Sung leaned back as he put the mike down, folding his arms as he watched the two top pilots of the third generation go on their rampage.
However, he was in for a rude surprise...
. . .
Turbine jerked as he heard the cackling of what appeared to be the Destroy's pilot and his optics landed on the huge machine as it ran towards them with surprising speed. He flared his wings and jetted over one of the hands as it fired off from the arm of the machine, arrowing right for the group.
The AI whipped a servo out to grab his Shorty Beam rifle and pulled it off his side skirt armor before aiming and firing a few shots at the speeding drone-arms. However, the shielding went up at the last moment, and Turbine felt a twinge of frustration building in his chest at this.
'Dammit...!' he thought grimly. 'This pilot is surprisingly damn good.'
He had no idea as to whom the pilot was however.
But whoever they were, they were very good at this.
He dimmed his optics a shade before he flew in, replacing his beam rifles on his side skirt armor and drawing both his ES01 beam sabers. He clenched his servos around them and, with a burst of his thrusters, spun around as he slashed. The blades barely missed the rear engines of the drone-arms, making him hiss through his vents as his optics flashed in his frustration.
The Destroy called its forearms back and they reattached to the elbow joints. Turbine growled to himself as he pondered his next move.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, this is so much fun~!" the pilot screeched, the voice of a young girl reaching Turbine's audios. His optics flashed as he looked up, and at once the huge machine tapped into his COMM, bringing up the image of the pilot in question.
And Turbine swore if he had been a human, his eyes would've widened in shock.
The girl was no older than twelve for God's sake!
She had an expression more akin to a serial killer on her face than that of a child. Her eyes were wide and they seemed to glow with bloodlust as she gazed at the men and women before her. Her eyes were a brilliant red, and her hair was a shocking black color, almost like that of the abyss. Her smile...
That was enough to make him grip his beam sabers in his servos so tightly he swore they would break.
That smile was nothing like what a child should wear.
The way her lips were curled back, exposing all her teeth in a maniacal grin. It was like she was insane.
Images of the children he had interacted with back in the resistance satellite bases came to his processor, and he could see how different those smiles had been.
They were innocent. Carefree, passionate, and full of curiosity and excitement at discovering something new. They were the smiles of children.
And that was the last straw for him.
His optics flashed a brilliant cyan as he felt that sense of fury overcoming him. A rage unlike anything else, something more primal than what he had been expecting. It reminded him all too much of his first time going SEED. But at the same time it was so much more than that.
The girl cackled gleefully as she brought her machine's hand up to bear, those fingers glowing with green energy.
Within Turbine's mind, a cyan jewel-like seed spun as it fell, cracking as it did so. The jewel struck the water, bouncing once and shattering in a brilliant blue nova, a red ring surrounding the explosion. His optics flashed as he felt his emotions dull, his battle processor kicking in as he flared his wings and darted up in a blur of black and white. He flipped around and brought one leg up before bringing it down in an axe kick.
His foot made contact with the shield emitter on the left arm, shorting it out from the sheer force of the impact. The girl screeched as she drew back the arm, staring in anger at the damaged emitter. "You will pay!" she bellowed.
The AI didn't even respond. All he did was boost back as she tried to grab him in her machine's right hand. He flipped his rail guns forward and fired, sending a pair of rounds for the Destroy's armor. The rounds hit, but didn't do as much damage as he had hoped. He growled as he folded his wings back.
'If only I could do something...!' he thought angrily.
. . .
Dr. Sung smirked as he folded his arms.
The two Extended were going at it, he noted with glee.
The rebels were clearly putting up a fight, if what he was seeing was any indication.
He had to chuckle.
They were foolish for trying to launch an attack on his compound.
He heard an explosion close by and he turned, only to stare at the sight of fire billowing up from the vehicle bays...
. . .
Keith watched from within the main command center, but not beneath the ground.
Oh, no.
Keith Martinez had migrated to the surface.
He stood in a far different command center, arms folded, eyes in SEED Mode.
Around him, people sat and worked at their stations, chatter filling the room as he observed the fighting at the Extended compound. He shifted his stance, looking out at the city around him.
Yes, city.
But this city was different from the others, and for a good reason.
This was Satellite City, a city built in the mountain range of the Chihuahuan Desert. It looked a lot like a city one would find in the former United States, but concealed by the mountains around it. It also had emergency exits and entrances into the underground satellite base network located around and within each building. The city had been constructed during the time that the resistance had hidden within Mexico, stealing parts from old and abandoned towns and refurbishing them to make them better than ever. Some parts had to be shipped from the mainland United States and Canada using their advanced logistics, but it had been done. The city had been built to prefab specs, allowing for it to be assembled under cover of night and through the ingenious use of scaffolding and rock-colored tarps to conceal the buildings under construction.
Satellite City was one of the resistance's best kept secrets, one that would only come out after the war had finally ended.
"Sir, the attack is proceeding as planned," one of the men manning the central console remarked.
Keith frowned as he looked at the main monitor, eyes hard. "Keep all forces on alert. The Atlantians could adjust to our strategies," he cautioned.
The man nodded as he turned his focus back to the battle raging in front of them.
The entire compound was laid bare before them.
Keith shifted his gaze to the area where he knew Turbine was attacking.
The Destroy's location. His eyes softened a little, but he did have faith in the AI.
After all, this was all or nothing.
Either they won here... or it was over for the entire movement.
He heard another announcement from one of his soldiers manning the feed from the nearest M2A1 main battle tank.
"We got trouble!"
He turned. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"There was a second Destroy in that hangar!" the man cried, turning to face Keith.
Keith's eyes widened as he heard those words.
"Oh, shit...!" he muttered.
Things... had just gotten a lot harder.
He gritted his teeth as he clenched his hands on his arms. 'This is bad...' he thought. 'One Destroy was bad enough, but two?! That's even worse. The only reason we were able to take out two of them was because we collapsed the base on them. But this time... we don't have that luxury. All we can do is try to take down one at a time.' He looked at the monitor showing the two Destroys as they attacked, one of them just attacking anyone in sight, and the other going for more precise attacks. 'The first one is normally the more dangerous, but the second one is the more dangerous because of the pilot's precise movements.' He snarled a bit. 'That means we have to take down the second Destroy first. The only question is... how?'
He had no idea that things were about to take an interesting turn at that moment.
. . .
The boy said a small hymn as he fired his machine's MJ-1703 5-barrel Split Beam Gun at the incoming Blasts. The duo split up, heading left and right to avoid the onslaught of green energy beams.
Alicia gritted her teeth as she narrowed her eyes. She was no SEED user like Marcus, but she was skilled enough to hold her own against the likes of him.
"Dammit...!" she muttered. "Just what is this kid's problem?!"
The boy didn't answer, least of all respond. True it was over an open channel, but it seemed like he was only dedicated to the crusade. And that alone was enough for her to snap at him.
"Dammit, kid! Snap out of this!" she barked.
"The crusade must be completed for the Lord," he intoned. "That is what Master Djibril commands. And we shall fulfill his wishes so we may all enter Heaven under the Lord Azrael's reign."
"You stupid brat! Azrael is dead! He is no god! Heck, he's burning in Hell for his sins!" Alicia shouted, her eyes hardening. "This is no crusade! This is GENOCIDE you're taking part in!"
It was then she heard something... different...
It wasn't very obvious, and in fact, she almost dismissed it as being a fluke. But...
It happened.
The boy paused for the briefest of moments... and a sniffle was heard.
Anyone else would have chalked it up to a minor malfunction of the mobile suit's cockpit speakers. But not Alicia.
She had heard it.
That was definitely a sniffle.
She arched an eyebrow. 'What the hell...?'
Curiosity overcame her and she pursed her lips. 'I wonder...'
She cleared her throat as the boy resumed his offensive, using the MJ-1703 5-barrel Split Beam Gun on her again, forcing her and Dick to split off again.
"Alicia? What happened?" Dick asked her. "Because the COMM went wonky."
"I don't think it was the COMM," Alicia responded to her wingman. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but... I need you to trust me on this one. Whatever you do, do not stop me. If that thing does attack, you know where to aim."
"But...!" Dick was cut off as she faced the Destroy.
"You stupid brat."
The boy didn't pause.
That was out, she mused. "Azrael is dead."
Still no response.
"He is no god."
That did it.
The Destroy seemed to pause for a second, and then once more, a sniffle.
Dick was confused. "Huh?"
Alicia pursed her lips as her mind raced. 'The fact the boy paused and then a sniffle... I think there's something going on here that we can exploit. It's like... there's something wrong with their programming... Like a glitch in the code or...' Her eyes narrowed. '...or there's a certain phrase that contradicts their original programmed command phrases!'
That was it.
There was a phrase that had to either contradict their command phrase, or be of a different nature altogether!
Now she had an idea.
She glanced to where Turbine was attacking the first Destroy.
She got on the COMM shortly after.
. . .
"Turbine! Retribution-3! This is Strider-2! Do you copy?"
The AI perked up at hearing Alicia's voice over his COMM system.
"Yes, I copy, Strider-2," he replied. "What seems to be the situation?"
"I've got some information you may be able to use to your advantage when dealing with the Extended!" the ace exclaimed.
"What information?" Turbine inquired.
"There's a glitch in their programming that you can exploit," she explained. "It seems whenever there is a phrase uttered that is contradictory to their command phrase, then it seems to disrupt their programming and turn them back to normal briefly."
"A programming glitch? That's a new one," Turbine muttered as he weaved to the left as the girl continued to cackle as she fired at him using her Destroy's massive arm drones.
"I know it's kind of weird, but it is real and clear," she replied. "However, it has to be said repeatedly to have any real effect on their programming and attitude."
"Damn... That just makes things harder!" Turbine growled.
"True, but that's the real only weapon we can use against them psychologically," Alicia told him. "So just do what you can!"
"I will. Retribution-3, out." Turbine cut the line and faced the Destroy as the girl brought her arm drones to a halt, hovering them in front of her menacingly. She cackled maniacally and Turbine flexed his servos in response.
'Okay... let's see...' Turbine tried to wrack his processors for an idea of a counter phrase, only for the girl to suddenly pivot her machine around as more of the infantry, backed up by the Lotos and M2A1s, came streaming through the gap in the wall. She screeched in laughter as she aimed those drones and fired, sending a barrage of lethal green energy right for them!
"NO! YOU DAMN BRAT!" he roared, feeling his SEED going dormant as he charged in, optics flashing brightly. "DON'T YOU DARE LOOK BACK! KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME, DAMMIT!"
The girl suddenly jerked, a gasp coming from her...
. . .
December 6th, CE 0073
Panama Coast
Tarawa
"Finally." Arnold sighed as he sat back, putting the sheaf of papers into the envelope. "The contract's done."
Dominic grinned as he leaned against the door. "So then, we going to tackle the mission in England?" he asked.
The leader of Sicario gave a nod. "You got it."
"About damn time!" the SiC laughed.
"Take it easy, Dominic," Arnold cautioned as he handed the envelope to him. "Once we get this sent back to our client, then we can start heading out. And we need to know just who is going to be there to greet us... if you know who I mean."
The other ace frowned. "Hm. You mean the Master Goose Militia, right?"
Arnold gave a grim nod. "Yeah. We know someone's going there... And if I'm right, which I hope I'm not, then we'll be in for the fight of our lives over there."
"Better hope that those brutes don't get past Hitman then," Dominic said, his jovial attitude vanishing at the thought. "After all, even with those three as our best, they'll be hard pressed, given the rumors."
Rumors that Sicario had been wary of. Rumors swirling as of late that depicted Jorge von Schweppe's unit as being some new breed of supermen who had uncanny prowess of battle, able to anticipate an enemy's move well before they even made it. Something like that was enough to make him suspicious and wary.
He only hoped his top aces could delay or even stall the five men from their prospective targets.