Hey, peeps~! Here's the next chapter of The Phoenix Rising. I hope you guys are ready for what's coming next here. ;) This time, there is a major battle about to take place, and let's just say the resistance isn't gonna be holding back on this one... ;3

Review replies:

- operation meteor: Glad ya like Turbine's development. :) He'll continue to grow for sure over the series, that I can guarantee. ;3

- Spiceracksergeant001: Heh. :) Detailed review as always. :) You'd be right as to LOGOs and Blue Cosmos' endgame. In a way, it's their version of ensuring Coordinators do not come about, but at the cost of the entire human race. To them, it's either eliminate all humans or risk seeing a new Coordinator surge come about. And glad ya like Eisenhower enough to have faith in her. :) She does indeed have the ability to plan all this out and make it work. :) She learned the value of intelligence and is very skilled at making use of it, unlike Djibril. :P Her goal regarding LOGOs is big, but I'm not gonna spoiler anything to you. ;)

- StellarLupine: Well, Selene McGriff was a name I chose at random. And sometimes people can have the same name, but be different individuals. :P But glad ya liked the chapter overall. ;)

- KentLinuxStadfelt: Glad ya liked it. :)

- CT7567Rules: Oh, they won't. I'm not that crazy! XD In fact, I don't do horror stuff at all like that. :P So consider that a good thing. :3

(A small light is shown flickering before it flares across the screen, fading to show the Strike Dagger S, Spray sitting on its shoulder, his trench coat fluttering in the breeze)

START MIKAKUNIN HIKOUSEN BY TAKAYOSHI TANIMOTO

(The camera pivots to show the mobile suit outside the main base of the resistance on Earth in Denver, the door open to show the interior of the warehouse with several shapes before the cylinders)

Oh yeah! Be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The camera zooms in on them to show President Eisenhower, Dr. Keith Martinez, Dr. Klaus Brand, Warren Thompson, and Marcus Wolcott with Turbine behind the warehouse itself)

Pass the orbit beyond the sky (The camera pivots away from them and out to show the resistance forces mobilizing to attack a camp in the desert, guards arming their rifles)

I can't hold back this rushing speed (The leading machine speeds in front, showing a NEMO armed with a clay bazooka, its pilot being shown to be a woman, her hazel eyes hard as she aims the gun and fires at a Destroy)

A familiar town becomes a diorama (The Destroy is hit by the explosive round, the flames engulfing the camera before it fades to show the camp in ruins)

Burst through the unclear skies (The camera pivots away to show another explosion as a Murasame blasts past, bearing an unfamiliar emblem)

Blow away your worries and discontent (The camera zooms in on the wolf head emblem before it starts to flutter as a flag, panning down to show the leader of Sicario, Arnold Franken, on the screen)

Who needs a journey that's by the book? (The commander of the mercenaries waves his hand and three mobile suits blast overhead, their pilots shown with their emblems behind them)

Even if you're lost or trembling, raise the altitude (The three engage a number of shadowy mobile suits before a beam engulfs the camera before fading to show Stella being held by Shinn in her agony)

Oh yeah! Show off, mess up, and stand back up (The boy is glaring as images of the Extended march past him, his eyes hidden in shadow before he looks up, his eyes in SEED Mode)

I'll watch the unknown horizon with you (The camera pans away to show the captain of the Archangel and Heero standing beside one another, their hands entwining)

Now be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The two look at one another before a mobile suit flies past, panning up to show the Strike Dagger with a new Striker Pack resembling phoenix wings)

Use the sun that lights tomorrow as a guide (A dark shadow looms behind the machine, its hand grasping for the image of the Earth as a ship is shown flying away, its name glinting in the light)

Fly off to the glorious world of freedom! (The image shows the resistance ship and their allies facing down the dark shadow, Djibril's face behind it as he looms over them)

GUNDAM WING: THE PHOENIX RISING

Let justice be done, though the heavens may fall

- Steven Jackson 'Spray' Krane

CHAPTER XXXI: People - Strike Two

Two Miles from Kidde Kamp Perimeter

December 14th/15th, CE 0073

The sun was beginning to descend beyond the horizon.

The very chill in the air was anything but from the cold.

For Pilot Mackenzie Samantha Allen, this was the beginning of the end.

The beginning of the end for LOGOs, anyway. And the end of their hold on America and her allies.

She stood clad in her pilot's suit, her helmet held under one arm, the other hand holding a pair of binoculars to her eyes.

From her vantage point atop her NEMO's shoulder, she could see the guards wandering around the perimeter of the camp, and she could also spot the Destroy as it hunched over the entrance to the camp like a dragon guarding its horde, only this horde was not gold, but children. She narrowed her eyes as she turned her gaze to the camp commandant's office, and she scowled. The man was going to go down, that was for sure.

She lowered the binoculars and let her hand hang loosely by her side as she stared at its location, marked only by the lights from the watch towers and searchlights.

Allen tore her gaze away from the sight as an icy wind blew in, making her shiver against her will. She attached the binoculars to her belt and lifted her helmet up before slipping it on. A slight twist and a small click resonated as it locked into place. She looked up, one hand going for the side of the helmet and pressing the switch that triggered the glass faceplate to come down.

The visored glass slid into position and she turned, scrambling down her machine's shoulder to reach the chest where the cockpit was located.

She slid into her machine, leaning back and flopping into the seat before she grasped the controls.

And just in time, too.

The cockpit speakers fizzled as she brought her unit online, pressing the activation code and preparing for mobilization.

The voice of General Landon came over the speakers not even five seconds later.

"All pilots, report."

"Lance Team reporting in!" came the voice of Pilot Lance Amari.

"Wingman Team reporting in!" Max Gibson replied.

"War Hawk Team, standing by!" Herc Horník stated.

"Warhead Team, ready to go!" Allen exclaimed.

"Launcher Team, geared up!" Justine Angstrom remarked.

"Signal Team, all set!" Seth Jacobs replied.

"Good." The general cleared his throat. "I know you've been debriefed before, but I'll run through this again with all of you so we are all on the same page."

Allen looked over her screens to check her NEMO's systems as General Landon began to explain the plan.

"The objective is simple: to take the camp and eliminate the Destroy guarding it. However, as of recently, there has been some new intelligence submitted by Home Base One on the defenses of the place. There are, in addition to the Destroy, two high-spec mobile suits that are piloted by a new breed of Extended, referred to as the EX-Cs. The 'C' in that designation denotes a Coordinator was used to create the Extended in question. There is no doubt that this should not have happened, but it did. This is only more of a reason for us to eliminate LOGOs and take back the human race from the darkness that they bring out in everyone they meet."

Allen's eyes narrowed as she fiddled with the targeting systems, trying to adjust them to better suit her fighting style.

"The EX-Cs are going to be defending the Destroy, so the objective is to take them out first. That will fall onto Wingman and War Hawk Teams. Warhead Team is going to deal with the Destroy. Lance Team will handle the Windams while Signal and Launcher Teams assault the defenses in front and around the camp. That's the plan. But, do not assume that this plan will go accordingly. After all, given the unstable tendencies of the two EX-Cs stationed here, there is a very good chance that all could go down the shitter."

Landon paused before he continued. "It's our goal to hold out long enough for Sicario's Ronin Team to come in and air drop into the camp. I received word two hours ago that they are en route and should be here sometime the evening of the fifteenth, maybe midday at the earliest. Our main goal is to ensure that they have a clear drop zone. So there is to be no holding back here."

"Yeah, we get it, boss," Seth replied with a snort.

"Glad you get the picture, Pilot Jacobs," the general retorted. "So, I hope you're ready then."

"We're all set to go, sir!" Allen exclaimed, finally finishing her checks and grasping the control throttles in her hands. Her hazel eyes narrowed as she tightened her grip in preparation for launch.

"Good. All mobile suits..." He paused for a moment before he gave the command.

"LAUNCH!"

Allen pressed the throttles forward and the NEMO's thrusters flared into action. She felt the telltale pressure building in her chest, but she ignored it as her machine vaulted off the cliff it had been perched on. The NEMO flew for a short distance before it descended, the thrusters of the flared leg armor kicking in and allowing her to touch down as several others followed suit.

The steady rumble of engines from further off caught her eye and she shifted her gaze to the left monitor showing the mobilizing tank corps that had been attached to her superior's forces. She could understand the value of said vehicles, but when it came to mobile suit warfare, they were sitting ducks and vulnerable to mobile suit weaponry. In fact, that was why the resistance had even brought them back to begin with. As the mobile suits would be engaged in fierce combat against one another, that meant the tanks could handle the hitting of the camp perimeter and defenses.

It was a shrewd move, and one she could see the logic in. After all, a nation needed to have flexibility in its arsenal when compared to one aspect of warfare. That was what America had valued prior to the Reconstruction War. And now... now it was going to come back and bite LOGOs in the ass with a vengeance.

She perked up as she spotted the NEMOs of her unit going on ahead of her. Growling, she toggled the COMMs. "Hey! Hold it!" she barked. "Don't go so far ahead!"

"Well then hurry up!" one of her squad mates remarked.

The rebel pilot groaned as she punched it, pushing forward on the pedals that moved her machine's legs. The motions were registered by the suit's computer and she could feel her machine jogging to keep pace with her squadron. Her eyes narrowed as she gritted her teeth, eyeing the huge structure that held the future generation prisoner.

This was it.

Operation: Strikeout Phase II had begun.

She could only wonder what the camp commandant was thinking right about now. Was he unaware of the incoming threat? Was he even aware of how insidious and downright barbaric his masters' whims were? Did he even understand what he was doing? Did he even believe the lies they told people?

There were so many questions and answers that she didn't know. But one thing she did know was that the children within had to be freed. And it was about time someone had done something right.

Her soldiers continued to make their way towards the large shape of the Destroy as it loomed over the camp.

"War Hawk Team, Wingman Team, I'm going to transmit you the data of the EX-Cs and their machines," General Landon stated on the COMMs. Allen narrowed her eyes as she paid close attention. "I'll also transmit this to everyone else on the field in case things go south."

She shifted to look at one of the monitors as it lit up with technical specs of a new mobile suit, one she had never seen before. Her eyes narrowed a bit more as she studied it. "This is the GAT-X130 Specter. It's a prototype high mobility mobile suit that was meant to be fielded as soon as the war began. But high fatality rates of the test pilots due to the sheer speed of the Vernier Boosters on its back was enough to shelve the project for some time until EXC-1304 proved to be just the man to handle its impressive speed. It's got Variable Phase Shift armor, which makes it hard to take down in comparison to other mobile suits. It's armed with a variety of weapons that make it a deadly threat on the battlefield, especially at night. Its primary armament are its Cerberus beam revolvers which can be equipped with a pair of bayonets. These allow for close or long range or mid range, making them all around the best weapons it has at its disposal. The shield on its left arm carries within it the Tempest beam sword, which allows it to go head-to-head with many of our most skilled pilots. The MGX 2230 long range multi-phase beam cannon on its right shoulder lets it snipe at its farther ranging adversaries, and its 4 MMI-GAU1717 12.5 mm CIWS in its head rounds out its arsenal. That last weapon is just for close-range defense from lightly armored machines or missiles. It can't do much damage to our machines, despite us not having Phase Shift Armor."

Allen's eyes flashed in the light of her monitors as she toggled the COMMs. "Sounds to me like they needed a soldier who could handle those speeds," she noted.

"They did, and they got one," General Landon replied. "Now, as for why he was selected, as he was the best scorer in all categories, he was also the most adept in high-speed close quarters combat. The Windams he often flew were left shredded with how hard he pushed them."

"Makes sense," Max remarked.

"Yes. Now for the machine of EXC-1043." The plans and specs for the Specter shrank down as the next machine's specs appeared on the monitor.

"This is the GAT-X103AP Verde Buster, and unlike its sibling unit, this one was designed first and foremost as an artillery mobile suit. Like the Specter, it does have Variable Phase Shift armor, but that's all the two have in common. This one was also meant to work in tandem with the Specter. It's got a 94mm high energy beam cannon on the left shoulder side of its backpack, and on the right side is a 350mm gun launcher. This combination of weapons ensures that it can deliver a nasty barrage and finish it off with the cannon. The missile pods on its shoulders are also meant to deliver as much destruction as possible to a large swathe of enemy forces. The only new weapons it has are the M9009B Composite Bayonet Beam Rifles. And both, like the original Buster's weapons, can combine to form a twin cannon that can heavily damage a space station, and their bayonets can extend its range."

"That's not good..." Allen muttered, her mind already running through what she knew of the Destroy and its own firepower. A few plans were beginning to take shape, and she nodded to herself.

"Damn right it's not good," Herc snorted. "That means that thing can unleash a spread of destruction on us if we're not careful."

"Right," the general remarked. "So it's your priority to try and eliminate the two EXCs. As for which one takes priority... I'll leave that to you."

"No," Allen said, cutting in abruptly. "The one machine that can really cause us trouble would be the Specter. As you said, it's made for high speed strikes. And on top of that, if its armor is dark colored, it could very well be a threat to everyone here. The Verde Buster is only an accessory to it at this point."

"That's a good point," Herc muttered. "I never considered that."

"None of us did, Herc," Max retorted as the image of the Verde Buster shrank alongside that of the Specter, both units' data becoming mere folders on the screen of Allen's NEMO.

The image on her main monitor flared and up in the left hand corner came Max Gibson's face.

A Coordinator in her mid-twenties, she had bright magenta hair and dark brown eyes, a color combination that went well with her dark skin tone. As a young girl she had wanted to be a computer engineer, but her father and mother prevented her on account of them being concerned about discrimination and harassment in her workplace all because of her genetic type. When her mother was killed by Blue Cosmos and her father arrested for having mingled with a race traitor, she went underground and enlisted in the slowly burgeoning mobile suit corps for the resistance, becoming an ace pilot and distinguishing herself at the Battle of Los Alamos when the Blast and NEMO were both being tested in field exercises.

Not just a skilled pilot, she was also a skilled hacker, working to help maintain the TORN and the Hub, both of the resistance's key underground communications systems. It was her skill, along with thousands of others in the tech communications field, that helped keep the Hub at top performance and undetected by LOGOs hackers. In fact, she often joked that if LOGOs couldn't hack through a firewall, they couldn't even find a literal bug in some hardware. It was an insult to their intelligence, and many felt it really fit the mindset of LOGOs and Blue Cosmos.

Max was one of Allen's few friends in the mobile suit unit she was assigned to, but they were a few who knew how to really put their unique skills to the best use possible.

"So, we good on the game plan?" she asked.

Everyone nodded.

Max gave a smirk. "Good. Let's do this!"

As the NEMOs and tanks moved forward to support the infantry, the camp loomed ahead of them, as did the two mobile suits assigned to protect the huge monstrosity of the Destroy.

The pilot of the Specter stood atop one of the guard towers, his eyes narrowed as he held binoculars to his eyes.

As one of the top remaining EXCs in the Extended Program, he had been assigned to the most unique and fastest mobile suits ever constructed in the Earth Alliance arsenal. EXC-1304 was not just a skilled pilot. He was also a skilled hand-to-hand fighter and a good marksman with any kind of firearm he could get his hands on. But it was his brutality and hatred for Coordinators that made him so dangerous. Unlike his fellow EXCs, he had no code name. He was never given one. So he took his number and turned it into his name instead.

"You see those things coming our way?" EXC-1043 asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Those fools don't even know what they're up against," 1304 said seriously as he lowered the binoculars.

"Just why are they even coming here?" 1043 wondered.

1304 turned to look back over his shoulder at the kids huddling in different groups to try and stay warm in this wretched place. There were no barracks, so whatever shelter they could make or find, it was either all or nothing. But somehow they made do, and it kind of irked him. These brats were supposed to be the ones to deter anyone from attacking, and they were very resourceful. It made him wonder what the intentions of his superiors were regarding them, but he knew better than to question it.

After all, he had other reasons for being here.

And these things were not about to stop him from doing his duty to Blue Cosmos and LOGOs.

No matter what.

He tossed the binoculars to one of the other guards, startling the poor man as he turned and headed off towards the ladder leading down to the ground floor. "C'mon," he stated. "We got our orders."

The girl nodded as she jogged after.

. . .

Camp Office

The camp office was a luxurious affair, which only made things seem surreal to those who were brought in here.

Unlike the rest of the camp where the kids lived in squalor, the camp commandant spared no expense to show just who was at the top of the food chain. His office was luxurious enough it could be mistaken for a spa in a mansion in what was once California. The man was currently seated at his desk, eyeing the facility around him with contempt.

He was one of those who did not see children as the next generation, but as a means to an end, which in this case, pertained to keeping the kids of dissidents in captivity to ensure that said dissidents did not speak out against scandals that were levied against them to keep them in line. In all, it was a sorry state of affairs that had to end.

Gregory von Stammtisch sighed as he took a drink of the finest wine he had at his disposal. "Sometimes I vonder vhy zey insisted I vatch zese brats..." he muttered as he lowered his goblet.

His eyes darted to where he saw the two EXCs heading off towards their machines and he sneered, a sense of disgust also crossing his rotund features. He could see how those two things could be viable tools, but that didn't mean he had to like them. The very source of the creation of those weapons was enough to make him hate them all the more. It was quite an interesting quandary, really. But he wasn't about to let his musings interrupt him from his duty.

Or so he thought.

He was about to take a bite of a donut when he heard the terminal on his oaken desk beeping repeatedly. Scowling, the man pressed the button and the image of the head of the guards came up. "Vhat is it?" he droned.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you at such an inopportune time, sir, but this is urgent!" the man cried, panic flooding his features.

"Vhat is it?" he droned again.

"See for yourself!" the head guard blurted, panning his phone out to show the black desert night.

His eyes narrowed, but he could see nothing. "Is zis some kind of joke?" he asked, his bored tone vanishing into one of disgust and anger.

"No, sir!" the man insisted. "There is something out there! And it's coming rapidly towards us!"

That was enough to make him set his donut down and step out of his office onto the balcony overlooking the left side of the camp. He grabbed a set of high-powered night vision goggles, and his eyes narrowed as he lifted them up. A slight toggle on a switch on the side and he was seeing everything in varying shades of green and white.

He could see a series of machines coming, leaving dust in their wake. He scowled as he pressed the zoom function, and the goggles shifted to show what he expected to be Atlantian forces coming to relieve him and his guards of this boring duty.

However... Atlantian they were not.

And he just about dropped a brown brick right in his pants at the sight of the incoming forces.

There was no sign of any Windams in the ranks. The tanks were of an older model. There were helicopters covering the fighting forces on the ground, and the mobile suits coming towards them looked to be of a much different design. The bulkier machines were somewhat hovering off the ground as their flared leg armor emitted thruster fire to increase their speed over the terrain. A few heavier armored machines marched behind them, with what appeared to be heavy packs on their backs with antennae mounted on them. And mixed in with these new units were larger tanks and even infantry riding in Jeeps, on motorbikes, or even riding on the larger tanks.

These were not Atlantian forces.

A shot of fear raced through his body as he realized what these were.

Reports from the battles in Mexico came surging to the fore as he recalled hearing about the fact that whatever rebels existed here were highly trained, well organized, and had industrial capacities that could in theory rival those of North American Heavy Engineering. This was no mere ragtag force of rebels coming his way.

It was an entire resistance army corps!

"Shit...!" he whispered.

"Do you believe me now, sir?" the guard asked.

The commandant turned his attention back to the terminal. He dropped the night vision goggles back on their table as he headed back in and returned to his seat. "Yes, I do," he said. "Zat does not matter zough. Zey vill not get into zis camp. You are to stop zem... vhatever it takes!" he growled.

"We'll do it, sir!" the guard declared. "They won't get past our EXCs or the Destroy! Or our men!"

With that, he closed the line and the commandant leaned back, his eyes narrowed as he studied the horizon.

"So... vhat shall you do, rebels?" he asked, though in his heart there was a sense of dread he just couldn't shake.

What was it that made him so uneasy...?

And why did he feel this way to begin with?

He just didn't know.

And it terrified him.

. . .

Main Camp Perimeter

Allen's eyes hardened as she studied the camp perimeter with a keen gaze on her cockpit's leftmost screen.

Already she could see the IFF tags of her fellow soldiers marked, as well as the types of vehicles they were driving.

The real surprise was the inclusion of helicopters, seeing as how they had fallen out of favor with the Atlantian military, but in truth, there was some validity to include said aircraft once more, primarily due to the fact they could go places where mobile suits could not, and in a few cases, the old Apache helicopters were surprisingly maneuverable. Old archival footage from the former US military had shown the old aircraft were capable of performing barrel rolls, loops, and even upside down flying. The advantages of such maneuverability were not lost upon the resistance leadership, so Anaheim had retooled a few factories to reproduce the helicopters and after some testing in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, the aircraft were proven to be in some cases superior to even mobile suits. So when combined with the advances made in aerospace technology, the helicopters were now more than a match for any Atlantian mobile suits that could be thrown their way.

The new AH-75 Apache Revolt helicopters were heavily based on the old British variant of the venerable aircraft. Like the originals, they had folding rotor blades for more storage space and were equipped with anti-ice protection: a necessity in the harsh winters in December. The aircraft also was equipped with one of the legendary Rolls Royce engines that had so proven to be key in many a conflict around the world, as shown in World War II when Great Britain used it in their aircraft during the fiercest days in the Battle of Britain. As a reliable and battle-tested engine, it made sense to put it to good use in this new war as well. The gun on the bottom of the aircraft's nose was an old M230 chain gun capable of firing 625 rounds per minute at full capacity. The vehicle was also mounted with hardpoints to hold purposely reproduced Hellfire missiles or even rocket pods each holding High-Explosive Incendiary Semi-Armor Piercing (HEISAP) warheads.

Painted a dark gray color to blend in with the night sky in winter, the only way the helicopters could be spotted was through infrared or night vision. But hopefully with the chaos of the battlefield, there would be no need to search them out, which made them perfect for a surprise attack.

Allen could only wonder who was to command the helicopter units buzzing overhead and around the other resistance machines.

Her musings were interrupted as she perked up, hearing her sensors going off.

She narrowed her eyes as she brought the radar up and her eyes widened as she saw a fast, incoming machine heading their way.

Her mobile suit's database flashed as she caught a brief glimpse of it on the visual sensors and she scowled.

It was moving fast, far too fast for any ordinary mobile suit to keep pace with it.

And she could already see it coming her way!

Allen's eyes hardened as she grabbed her beam saber and ignited it, holding it out defensively as she felt the mass of the GAT-X130 Specter slam into her machine. She gunned the thrusters as she struggled to keep herself from being pushed back. She could already sense her suit was losing ground due to the sheer speed the Specter was putting out, and the legs were groaning as she finally leaned forward.

"Dammit!" she grunted. "Why did he have to attack me?!"

The pilot's voice cackled over the COMM line. "What? You really think we're going to let you get to the Destroy?" he chortled.

Allen's eyes narrowed. "You don't even know that for certain!" she hissed.

"Ah, but I do. After all, I can sense your intentions, fool!" the EXC sneered.

The debriefing on the EXC's abilities came to the forefront of her mind and she growled. "So... the debriefing was right," she concluded. "You do have Newtype abilities!"

"Newtype? Please. I don't even know what that is," the EXC snorted.

"And just as well! Because if your sicko masters did know, then we'd be facing down an army of Cyber Newtypes!" Allen growled as she pushed harder. Her machine's hydraulics were strong, but nowhere near strong enough to keep the Specter off her forever.

So she had to get creative.

While she had her beam saber angled defensively against the thrust and struggling to keep the Cerberus guns' bayonets from penetrating her cockpit, that left her machine's right hand free. So she manipulated the digits into a fist and drew back the arm before shoving the controls forward as hard as she could.

The right arm of her machine lashed out, slugging the Specter right in the gut with all the force she could put into it. The Specter was rattled by the punch and that gave her time to retreat, looking to the other units of her team as they started to approach. "No!" she barked. "Let's get to the Destroy!"

"And I said you're not getting to it!" 1304 roared. He had regained his senses rapidly, which made her scowl.

'Crap... he's too quick at recovering. That makes me wonder if it has to do with the drugs he's been given for combat...' she thought to herself.

The Specter suddenly surged forward, throwing her off guard. But she shoved her surprise aside and engaged her machine's leg thrusters, boosting to the left as she spun around. Her NEMO's left foot whipped out as she stomped hard on the pedal, delivering a nasty kick to the left shoulder of the Specter and making 1304 grunt from the force of the impact. That was all she needed to engage her thrusters and dash out of there just as Max and her team came speeding in. "We got this, Warhead-1!" she cried.

"Thanks, Wingman-1!" Allen responded.

With 1304 kept busy, that was all she needed to target the Destroy.

The huge machine towered over every unit here, and even with the added support from the tanks and helicopters, there was no guarantee they'd be able to deal damage to the thing. In fact, they were in extreme danger because of the sheer firepower that thing possessed. Just one shot from those drone-arms and they'd be plummeting to the earth in flames.

And that was something she didn't want. Allen gritted her teeth as she got on the COMM with her superior. "Sir, this is Warhead-1! We're approaching the Destroy now!" she radioed.

"Good. Be sure to take it out!" General Landon replied.

"We will, but it would be wise to recall the choppers for now," she stated. "That monstrosity could easily shoot them down with its drone-arms and I don't want to have to tell a lot of family members that their loved ones died without doing anything significant."

The general was caught off guard by her statement and assessment of the situation. He blinked a few times, then looked down. "Why am I not surprised you'd be quick to pick up on that?" he muttered as he shook his head.

"I'm just considering my options here. As it stands, only mobile suits can deal with that thing," Allen explained. "The less collateral we have on our side, the better."

"I hate to say it, but I'm not going to recall the choppers," General Landon replied, throwing her for a loop.

"But why, sir?!" she blurted, shocked.

"Because we'll be needing them to attack the camp perimeter," her superior retorted. "However, since you did raise a valid point, I'll hold them at bay outside of whatever combat perimeter you set up once you engage the Destroy."

It was not what she had hoped for, but it was at least something. And she could see the plausibility in how it was going to go down.

"Okay. Just do not send them in until the Destroy is removed from play!" she barked.

The general sighed, but nodded.

The COMM shut down and now Allen could look at her adversary.

The huge Destroy pivoted its head to look directly in her direction and its optics flared, as if to say 'come to your doom, fool.'

She narrowed her eyes, and for some reason, she got the sense that her NEMO's visor had flashed. 'No. It's you who will fall to your doom!' she thought.

She gripped the controls...

And then shoved them forward. As she was pushed back into her seat, she keyed the COMM to her unit's tactical channel. "All units, form up! Let's do this!" she cried.

"YES, MA'AM!" came the responses.

The Destroy brandished its hands, as if expecting them to come.

She didn't even respond as she gripped her machine's beam saber and drew it out, holding it off to the side. Her eyes narrowed as she gritted her teeth.

This was it, she knew.

Operation: Kindergarten had finally begun.

. . .

"INCOMING!" one of Max's subordinates cried.

The Coordinator spun around, her hand wrenching back on the controls for her NEMO and she brought up the beam saber as the Specter's sword slammed into it, both mobile suits straining against one another. Max's eyes narrowed as she saw the Specter pushing her sword closer to her machine's chest... and her cockpit.

Thinking fast, she slammed the butt of her machine's Clay Bazooka against the chest of the Specter and forced it back as she boosted back from it to give herself some breathing room.

"You okay, ma'am?" the man asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Marco!" Max snapped back as she glanced up, her brown eyes hardening.

The rebel pilot glanced around, spotting the telltale sign of thruster fire from the Specter as it sped around the battlefield. The machine was definitely very fast, living up to its name with that speed. She narrowed her eyes as she watched it come in once more, this time going for Marco.

The other man brought up his beam saber to block the Tempest beam sword as he whipped his machine's torso to the left. The extra force was enough to cause the Tempest sword to go off course and Marco seized the chance to retaliate against the Specter's pilot, lashing out in a roundhouse with his NEMO's foot. But the Specter's pilot regained his senses and he boosted back, just barely avoiding the kick.

However, that was all Marco's incoming wingman needed to lash out with a swing from her NEMO's beam sabers. The twin blades carved through the air, but the EXC retaliated with a backhanded swing with the Tempest sword. The two Naturals began to circle the Specter, making EXC-1304 sneer as he hefted his sword.

"So... you insects think you can bring me down?" he chortled over the COMMs. "Because I am not your ordinary soldier! I am the best of the Extended, and nothing can bring me down!"

"So you say!" Marco spat. "Everyone can be beaten, regardless of enhancements or not!"

"Then bring it on!" EXC-1304 crowed. "I will show you all who is superior here on the battlefield!"

Marco roared as he grasped his beam saber and lunged for the Extended.

Max, however, saw what was coming. "MARCO! WAIT!" she cried.

But it was too late. EXC-1304 swung his sword, and he reached for one of the Cerberus pistols on his machine's front skirt armor. The sword blocked the beam saber as he brought up the beam pistol...

And fired at point blank range.

Max's eyes widened as she saw the shot pierce through Marco's NEMO's chest, causing it to explode a short moment later. By that time he had boosted back and was turning to face his former wingman.

That was enough to make Max narrow her eyes as she saw the brown SEED appear in her mind's eye. It fell, spinning and shattering in a flash of light with a red ring around it as her brown eyes dilated and glazed over. She let out a roar of fury as she ignited her beam sabers and lunged at full thruster burn towards the Extended. He jerked his machine's head as he brought himself around to block her beam sabers. Her eyes were narrowed as she pressed against his beam sword, and she grunted as she saw him raising his beam pistol.

She wasn't about to let him get the upper hand though. And the best way to keep him off guard was to keep hounding his defenses.

She lashed out with another swing of the beam saber, forcing him to duck back and replace his beam pistol on his skirt armor before he grasped the sword in both hands and brought it up at an angle to block her second swing. He grunted from the impact as she lashed out in two horizontal slashes in an X formation, keeping him on the defensive as she poured her fury into a flurry of beam saber swings, slashes, and thrusts. Max's eyes were locked onto the Tempest, targeting its metal frame, but the beam edges dispersed her own attacks.

But as long as she could keep hounding him, then there was no way he could attack anyone else.

And that was all she needed to do to allow her squad mates to come up with a solution for taking this man down.

It was all she could do.

She just had to trust in her teammates to have a plan.

And she hoped they could come up with one.

. . .

For what it was worth, Herc was not having the best day ever.

The Verde Buster's pilot was not just holding them at bay.

She was going all out with her machine's vast array of firepower.

The missile launchers unleashed a devastating barrage, the warheads slamming into the ground and sending debris every which way or hitting the shields of the NEMOs on his unit. Unlike with Max's team, his had trained to layer their shields together to take hits more effectively. While it didn't protect as effectively as he had hoped, it did blunt the damage enough to allow the NEMOs to survive mostly unscathed.

The commander of War Hawk Team looked to his second-in-command and nodded. "Hiroto, it's all yours!"

Hiroto Kuga gave a nod on the screen. "Yes, sir!" he remarked.

The young Natural pilot gunned his thrusters as he drew out his ES-01 beam saber and charged forward, making good use of his verniers to avoid the next salvo from the Verde Buster. The pilot's giggles could be heard over the COMM.

"Oh, how fun this is~!" she sang. "I just love seeing you all dance to my tunes!"

"As if, lady!" Herc snarled as he took the time to aim his Clay Bazooka, shifting just enough to get her machine in his line of sight.

He knelt his NEMO down on the ground as his teammates formed a protective cordon around him, working to keep the enemy units at bay while Hiroto made his way towards the EXC's unit. He held the bazooka up and linked it to his suit's visual sensors. The readout popped up on the main monitor in front of him and he adjusted his position slightly, allowing the targeting reticle to wiggle into position. It moved left, down, then up...

And it flashed green.

The light on the Clay Bazooka flashed red...

"Hope you can handle this heat, lady!" he muttered, pulling the trigger.

The Clay Bazooka roared, sending the infamous Gelatinous Immobilization Round right for the Verde Buster's leg joint.

The EXC's voice yelped as the GIR slammed into her machine's leg joint, immobilizing the limb from the knee down. Herc gave a grin as he lowered his bazooka, allowing a slew of missiles to sail past his machine. The missiles impacted the armor and joints of the Verde Buster, causing her to stagger back. She growled over the COMM as she braced her machine's free leg and its immobilized limb, using the jammed limb as an anchor. "DAMN YOU!" she screamed.

She aimed the 350mm gun launcher before unleashing a single shot that split into multiple, forcing the helicopters that had unleashed the missile salvo to break left and right, going into evasive maneuvers. The pilots of these aircraft had honed their skills in countless combat simulations and even in real-time exercises, getting the hang of their machines and learning to embrace the feel and personality of them. So as a result of this, they had a feel for the helicopters that most pilots could not match. And this feel came into play, allowign them to weave and dodge the salvo of shots that tried to strike them.

Herc had to keep a smile from forming on his face as he observed the intricate and rather surprising dance of the helicopters.

A thought came to his mind briefly. 'Huh. The Dance of the Helicopters... that's... not a bad idea for an aerial maneuver display...' he mused.

He was brought back to reality when he heard an explosion and he glanced up, just in time to see one of his teammates go down from a bayonet to the cockpit. The commander of War Hawk Team gritted his teeth as he narrowed his eyes. "Oh... That's it, lady!" he growled, grabbing his beam sabers and igniting them.

The EXC just cackled. "Bring it on, bastard!" she cried.

. . .

For Seth Jacobs, this was the perfect chance to get in and get some damage done.

As leader of Signal Team, he was tasked with taking down the defenses to allow Ronin to air drop into the middle of the camp.

And to assist him was Launcher Team, headed by Justine Angstrom, a close friend of his from his youth.

The two had been friends since childhood, despite their drastically different upbringings. Seth was the son of a prominent wealthy businessman, and Justine had been born in the Quebec slums, only to leave when her father had gotten a job with a surveying company when she was in her late teens. Seth's father had an estate outside the slums, and Justine had found an old crack in the wall that surrounded the slums, allowing her to sneak out during breaks in patrols for the guards. Despite this vast difference, Seth's father never despised the girl, instead saying that it was a good thing for two people of differing backgrounds to meet and get to know one another.

When the two were in their late teens, they ran away from Canada and ducked into the underground, becoming something of a mystery when it came to their activities, which, according to them, ranged from treating wounded people to smuggling abortion drugs to rape victims. Here was a key aspect that got the attention of the resistance, which recruited them a few years later. The two were sent down to the desert for mobile suit training after a simulation run showed them to be incredibly gifted pilots.

Now, both friends were leading teams of their own, and their units were known for excellent teamwork all around.

Seth glanced up at the anti-air defenses and his eyes narrowed.

"Justine, you getting this?" he radioed her.

"Aff as fuck, Seth," she responded. "Those AA defenses have to be removed from play."

"Yeah, I know," Seth replied. "But what I meant was, are you getting the types?"

"Oh..." Justine fell silent for a moment before she whistled. "Oooh, boy... Those will bring down a cargo plane for sure."

"Yeah. So we gotta take them out and fast," he told her.

The image of the brunette pilot nodded on his screen. "Yeah. I get left, you get right?"

"Lefty righty?" he asked with a chuckle. "Like we used to play as kids?"

She gave a sheepish smirk. "Why the hell not?"

The man threw back his head and laughed. "Never thought an old childhood game would have a military use!" he chortled. He gripped his controls and he grinned. "Never thought I'd say this, but let's do it!"

"All right. On my signal, we break," Justine responded. "You know the drill!"

"Right!" Seth grinned.

The two units came up alongside the camps, their commanders readying for the signal. "All units, follow our leads!" the two said as one.

"YES, SIR!/MA'AM!" came the cries.

"Righty Frighty..."

"Lefty Hefty..."

"Aim up high..."

"Aim down low..."

"Let's go guy..."

"Go and flow!"

"BREAK!" Seth barked into his COMM.

The two teams bunched up and broke off from one another, thruster fire blooming from the backs and legs of the NEMOs in question. Signal Team went right, and Launcher went left, their Clay Bazookas unleashing explosive ordinance rounds for the AA guns and causing explosions along the outer perimeter wall. Soldiers manning the watch towers opened fire with their machine guns, but the armor of the NEMOs that were closest held, taking the rounds with little damage except scratches to the paint.

One guard aimed a grenade launcher and fired it at the arm of one of the NEMOs from Launcher Team, but the machine just took the blow and shrugged it off, leading to a few staring in shock at this supposedly invulnerable monster. The machine, unlike what they had been expecting, was not armored with light materials like they had been thinking. Instead, it was armored with the best materials the resistance could create. And that was all that was needed to hold off a slew of new grenades as the guards took the chance to open fire, hoping to bring them down in fire and brimstone.

The onslaught forced the NEMOs to break left and right, avoiding getting hit by the projectiles and evading the incoming shots from machine guns.

Seth gripped his controls tightly as he pulled back, forcing the thrusters on his NEMO to flare and he boosted to the left, his machine's hand flying out with the beam saber to cut through a grenade he barely saw incoming. The explosion blinded his visual sensors, but he charged on through the smoke, coming out the other side with his beam saber flashing brightly in the darkness of the night. The Windam that had come out of the sky was cleaved in half and it exploded as he dashed past.

His eyes narrowed as he grasped the HWF GMG·MG79-90mm Bullpup Machine Gun that had been equipped to his machine's left skirt armor and he pulled it loose while holstering his beam saber. He gripped the gun in both hands and synced the sights to his visual sensors. He spun his machine to the right as another Windam came diving from above. He aimed the gun skyward and pulled the trigger, sending a barrage of bullets right for the Windam. The pilot jerked back and brought his shield to bear, but the projectiles tore through the metal defense equipment and spread across the unit's torso, exploding the machine in a brilliant fireball.

Seth grinned as he lowered his gun. "Now... this is getting good!"

. . .

Circus Flight

En route to Kiddie Kamp

December 15th, CE 0073

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he observed the mission debriefing before him.

"I see..." he mused. "So that's why he wanted us to be sent here..."

To be frank, being asked to help in an invasion was one thing. But to air drop into the middle of a concentration camp loaded with kids?

That was pushing it.

From what he knew about the camp, it was heavily defended by AA guns to prevent such a thing from happening. But if the resistance's intel was correct, then they were the ones to take out the defenses, allowing for his unit to drop into the middle of the camp and take the guards by surprise.

And with Circus Flight already bringing them to the site, it was going to be one hell of a fight.

He glanced up as he spotted his second-in-command, Helga Sinclair, approaching him.

At six foot two, she was an Amazon in her own right, with long blonde hair tied back in a thick braid that she kept curled up in combat missions. She was well muscled for a soldier, and had keen dark brown eyes, bordering on black. A small beauty mark was beneath her left eye, and her appearance evoked a swimsuit model of the old twenty-first century. As a Coordinator, she was very capable in all areas of bodily combat, ranging from strength and endurance to intelligence and agility. But even her skills in intelligence were no match for the incredible tactical acumen of the resistance leader.

A former soldier who had been kicked out after having an affair with another woman, she was an individual who's will was strong enough to warrant her going to her former officer and slamming him with the evidence of his corruption, a move that earned her the ire of the Atlantian government, which saw her as a threat to its ambitions of Natural supremacy. A genetic test had outed her as a Coordinator, which forced her to flee the country to avoid being killed or executed on the spot. It was in CE 68, five years after she fled, that she was offered a job in Sicario by Arnold himself. She accepted and put her skills in special forces training to good use, helping Arthur to build Ronin from the ground up into Sicario's top line SOG.

"So, it's about time, right?" she asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. According to the timetable, we should be approaching the site of battle within the next half hour."

"I'm just surprised we managed to get this far from where we were down in Africa," Helga said seriously.

"Thank the winds and the fact we weren't intercepted," Arthur replied as he turned his gaze back to the maps. "Also, Circus-1 was able to get his planes refueled in the middle of the air on the way to pick us up."

Helga gave a grin at that remark.

He studied the camp's perimeter. "So... let's hope that someone shuts down those defenses before we conduct the air drop..."

He needn't have waited for much longer.

One of the pilots radioed him and he grasped the device, pulling it free. "What's up?" he asked.

"Sir, we're approaching the DZ now," the pilot reported. "There's a large battle raging down below, though. It seems like the resistance mobilized quite the fighting force for this op."

"How big we talking?" he asked.

"From what I can see, it's huge. About corps sized, from first glance alone. They've also got quite the mixed amount of forces down there. I'm seeing helicopters, mobile suits, tanks, jeeps, and even infantry carriers with the foot soldiers."

Arthur got up from the map table and made his way over to one of the windows as he felt the big plane begin to bank to the left. He peered out the window and his eyes went wide as he stared at the massive firefight raging below.

Bullets were barely visible in the darkness, but he could pick out faint tracer fire amidst the flames, and he could also see beams lancing out like divine arrows from the angels, striking the forms of the Windams as they flew and weaved, backed up by the flash of a beam saber from a resistance mobile suit or a barrage of firepower from the tanks backing them up.

Interestingly, he could see how the mobile suits were moving to shield the less armored ranks from incoming fire from the camp walls, acting as sentinels and protectors. The helicopters were doing an intricate dance of weaving and diving, maneuvering to great effect as they dodged the beams and bullets, with a stray missile hitting one or two of them, sending them plummeting to the ground. But with how many were there, it was a slow process, and the huge monster of a Destroy was being harassed by the other resistance mobile suits running around.

"No way...!" he breathed.

The force that the resistance had mobilized was, in one word, overkill. But then again, considering the circumstances and what they were up against, it made sense that they'd go for broke with this and put all they could into it. He spotted a large fireball as several of the AA guns were taken out by some of the resistance mobile suits, allowing for the left flank to be exposed. The right flank was still going hard, but it was not much longer as the left flank's loss meant that now rockets could target those AA guns from that side.

And he watched as a slew of rockets from the tanks fired, slamming into the wall and sending what, from their height, appeared to be a minor spilling of debris down into the camp itself and off to the right. The guns on that side fell silent, and he stared in shock before he heard another voice come through his radio.

"Attention, Sicario Circus Flight! Identification code required!"

The commander of Ronin jerked back to his senses as he grabbed the device and held it up. "Ronin-Lead, authentication code is Alpha-Omega-Romeo!"

"Authentication code accepted. Identification code required," the voice responded.

"Code is Zoltan-One, Delta-Forty!" he radioed.

"Code confirmed. Ronin Lead, welcome to Kidde Kamp," the voice said.

"And you are?" Ronin-Lead asked.

"I'm the general in command of this op," the man said. "George Landon at your service."

"Care to explain what's happening down below, just so we know what's going on?" Arthur asked.

"All I can say is that we're involved in clearing out the DZ for you!" General Landon remarked as an explosion resounded over the radio.

"Not much about the composition of your forces?" Ronin-Lead inquired.

"Can't say. The Atlantians could be listening in," the general cautioned. "I'll fill you in after the op. What you packing?"

Arthur glanced over to his teammates, and they all gave the thumbs up. He grinned and got on the line one last time.

. . .

"Let's just say... we got enough to give these guys a real American welcome!" he replied.

The planes began to descend, their cargo bay doors opening as the entire SOG gathered in the middle for their drops.

The camp below looked like it was surrounded by demons from hell, but in reality, they were not.

General Landon lowered his binoculars and grinned. "Ronin... Give 'em hell!" he screamed.

The SOG began to drop, and he lifted his binoculars up to see them leaping out of the planes, fully kitted and ready for battle. Then...

The parachutes began to open.

Like midnight flowers, they bloomed out and caught the desert winds as they began to descend. With the lack of the AA guns, the landing zone was clear.

Now, all that remained were the Extended and the Destroy.

And even they wouldn't last for long now.

. . .

Kidde Kamp

Twelve-year-old Zoltan Akkanen was terrified.

He could hear all kinds of sounds around him, but he couldn't see the sources of the sounds. Not because he was locked in isolation or being herded to safety by some of the older kids.

He couldn't see what was making all those noises because he was blind in both eyes.

He could still feel the pain as his eyes were cut with a sharp knife, leaving two nasty scars across his eyes and his eyeballs infected and needing to be removed. However, that was done only as a last resort when he got too sick to even move and was close to dying. One of the guards had done the operation for him, and now the boy was left blinded forever as a result.

His new disability left him unable to read or anything, leaving him utterly dependent on the older kids to guide him and help him cope.

And it didn't help much that the last thing he had seen before his sight was stripped from him was his father's last gasping breath as an Atlantian thug mowed him down.

The boy only wanted to be reunited with his mother and father. But now... now he was trapped here, unable to see or do much of anything.

"W-What's happening?!" he stammered to an older boy he knew only by voice.

"...There's... there's people coming down!" the boy exclaimed. "I see parachutes... and they're armed!"

Terror flooded Zoltan's young body as he clung tightly to the other boy.

"Please tell me they're not going to kill us!" he wailed.

"Hold on..." The older boy fell silent and Zoltan began to fear that he was about to die.

Then the boy's voice came back. "They're... not shooting at us..." he noted. "They're..."

Now Zoltan could hear something else happening. Grunts and thuds as something fell from a high point. "They're firing on the guards!" the boy cried in shock.

. . .

Start FINAL MISSION~QUANTUM BURST - Mobile Suit Gundam 00 The Movie: Awakening of the Trailblazer - by Kenji Kawai

Arthur gripped his M16 as he pulled the trigger, sending a few bullets right for one of the guards atop the camp wall. His rounds struck and the man tumbled off the wall, falling to the ground with a loud thud, and Ronin-Lead grunted as he slung his gun back over his back and grasped the controls for his chute. He pulled them back and spilled more air from it as his men and women opened fire on the other guards.

The commander of Ronin finally dumped the last of the air from his chute and landed on the ground, discarding the pack on his back and grabbing his gun once more. He spun around and fired a few more shots at one of the guards running down the perimeter, striking the man in the head and collapsing him on the spot.

"Ronin-Lead, what's your status?" the general asked over his COMM.

"Assault-Alpha, this is Ronin-Lead!" Arthur responded. "We're currently landing inside the DZ. Already it's going to be a madhouse here in trying to remove the guards."

"Good. I want those packages secured as soon as possible, as well as their status!" General Landon replied. "That camp must be shut down at all costs!"

"Understood!" Ronin-Lead affirmed. He let his hand fall from his headset as he grasped his gun and fired a few more rounds.

Two well-placed shots from his SiC caught his attention and he looked up as she detached her parachute twenty feet from the ground. Helga opened fire with her own machine gun, striking two more guards that were trying to sneak up towards the children that were starting to retreat to one corner of the camp's central courtyard, if it could be called that.

The guards that still remained tried to fire on the descending Ronin team, but they opened fire as they descended, using either pistols or machine guns, with one of them using a sniper rifle to pick off those that were the most dangerous. He glanced to Helga as she backed up, pressing her back to his. "About time," he joked.

"Save it, Ronin-Lead," she responded, using his call sign. "We're almost down."

"Good!" Arthur nodded as he let loose a spray of bullets that peppered the ground and forced a few guards to back off as they opened fire.

"Dammit! We need cover!" a third member shouted as he grabbed a grenade and chucked it at one of the guards. The explosive projectile detonated, maiming the man's knees and feet and causing him to collapse in agony.

"What cover?!" someone snapped. "There's nothing here to use!"

Already ten of the incoming forces had landed, and they were starting to back up as well in front of the children.

Arthur's eyes flicked around as he tried to find someplace, any place really, to use for cover. He could see the guard towers, but those were not good cover as it would mean that the kids would be killed if they tried to climb the ladders. There were no barracks, and there was no medical wing. The only real place would be what could be classified as a crude kitchen, and it was in no way fortified or able to hold out for long in a firefight as it was just a building made out of tarps.

"Dammit...! How cruel can these men be?!" Arthur growled as he watched Ronin Team Two land.

"INCOMING!" a voice bellowed.

Arthur's eyes snapped up towards the sky as he saw a Windam coming in hard, fire streaming off its Jet Striker pack, the pilot bailing out at the last minute. The man landed in front of Helga and she didn't waste any time killing him to prevent his escape. The damaged machine crashed into the ground, forcing Ronin to scatter and a number of them to scoop up the kids that were in the line of its crash.

The damaged mobile suit, by some stroke of sheer luck, landed in a sort of curled position, its back facing the camp guards as they came towards the spec-ops team and their rescued charges. And that was when it struck Arthur.

"Everyone! Get behind the Windam!" he barked over the radio. "Get the kids behind it!"

That was what they needed.

. . .

Zoltan screamed as he was scooped up by someone, and he tried to feel with his hands, only to hear a voice hiss in his ear. "Stop squirming, kid!" a female voice hissed. "We're trying to save your life here!"

The boy froze, and that was all his savior needed. He could feel himself slung over her shoulder, which felt rather broad, and he squealed as she ran. He could feel himself bouncing against her back as she ran, and he could smell the dust beneath her. Where was she taking him?

Wherever she was taking him, apparently it was much safer as he could no longer hear the gunfire as profoundly, and the majority of the rounds were pinging off something metallic and hard. He was surprised when the woman took him off her shoulder and sat him down, only for a gasp to escape her. "Oh... God...!" she rasped. "Your eyes...!"

Zoltan reached up to his eyes, feeling the thick stitches that still covered them.

He hated the feel of them.

"I...I can't see..." he whispered. "I'm blind..."

"I can see that. Who's the bastard that did this?" the woman asked, her voice taking on a hard edge.

"I...I don't know..." Zoltan whimpered. "I just remember a man with a knife... he was big... brown hair and hazel eyes... thick mustache..."

"That's all I need!" the woman growled as she stepped back. "Stay here, kid. Once we get you out, we'll get you something so you can see with again."

. . .

Theresa Phillipson gripped her gun and peered around the leg of the Windam, her green eyes narrowed as she scouted out for the man who had left the poor boy in this state. She slid her NVGs over her eyes, scanning the guards as they approached the downed machine.

She could see a few men who looked like they would fit the boy's description, but the hazel eyes were sure to be a dead giveaway, provided she could see them. Night vision was not perfect, after all.

"Hey! We got snipers on the roof!" someone shouted.

Theresa's eyes snapped to the location in question and she aimed her rifle, firing a few seconds later. The glint of the scope flashed as the device was shattered, making the man recoil enough for her to fire off a second shot that left him dead from a shot to the mouth and out the top of his head.

"Good shot!" Arthur praised.

"Not now!" Theresa snapped. She slid her rifle back on her back and grabbed her pistol, pulling it from its holster and aiming it at one of the incoming guards. She pulled the trigger and one guard went down with a shattered kneecap.

Off to her side, her squad mate Lorenzo Cianto gripped one of his submachine guns and released a slew of bullets that left two men with wounds across their torsos and one with both kneecaps shattered beyond repair. The Italian-descended Coordinator was not above giving LOGOs men a real excruciating experience like he had seen his father be given. His father had been shot in both kneecaps by a gangster and had to have his legs amputated to prevent infection from occurring. It left him wheelchair bound, and as a result, he couldn't do much outside of a wheelchair now. That left him unable to work as a carpenter, rendering him homeless if the resistance hadn't stepped in and saved him.

So he felt he had to owe the resistance something for their efforts.

And he was giving it all he had.

"Lorenzo, we got a description of the perp who did this to the boy," she said, relaying the information over her radio. "Big man, brown hair, hazel eyes, a mustache."

"What?" Lorenzo looked to the boy she was beside, and he gagged, visibly becoming pale at the sight of the boy's eyes. "Geez! Who would do that to a kid?"

"No clue," Theresa said seriously. "Think you can find him and bring him in?"

"Oh... I'll do more than that!" the Italian Coordinator hissed. He discarded the empty mags for his submachine guns and replaced them with fresh ones. He then slid one gun on his back and gripped the other one. "Let me at 'em!"

. . .

Arthur nodded as he heard the report from his second team. "Got it!" He let his hand fall away as he grasped his machine gun and aimed it around the remaining left arm of the Windam. He fired a few more shots that left two more guards dead as the rest started to swarm their position. He placed a hand to his COMM.

"Assault-Alpha, this is Ronin-Lead! We got the packages secured, but we're cornered and need some support!"

"Where are you, Ronin-Lead?" the general asked.

"We're holed up behind a damaged Windam in the camp's far corner!" he relayed. "We got guards coming at us like lemmings!"

"How much ammo you got?" Landon asked.

"Enough to last for a few more hours," the commander confirmed, "but only that. I would recommend you get that Destroy removed from play along with those EXCs or whatever they're called before we run out!"

. . .

General Landon growled as he gripped his radio in one hand. "I'll see what we can do!" he replied. "Just hold on as long as possible!"

"Will do, Assault Alpha! Ronin-Lead, out!"

As the assault continued, he lowered the radio and raised his binoculars to see how things were progressing.

Already he could see that Wingman Team was dueling against the Specter, with the black machine darting around at high speed. The only good thing was that they had adapted to the pilot's fighting style, keeping him at bay and using long range attacks to keep him from getting in close. The downside was that, as in close range, at long range he was absolutely lethal.

But Max was clearly keeping him at bay. The leader of Wingman Team was proving to be just as deadly in a mobile suit as she was with hacking and computers.

He shifted his gaze to where War Hawk Team was engaged with the Verde Buster, which was proving to be hard to get to due to its long ranged firepower. The two sides were slugging it out, but War Hawk Team had the advantage of extra supplies due to their numbers, even if not by much. So far, both teams had failed to eliminate or cause damage to the two EXCs, but that didn't mean it wouldn't happen. It all hinged on timing.

And he hoped to God that something happened to turn the tide and soon, well before Ronin Team ran out of ammunition.

He turned his gaze towards where he saw Warhead Team going with the Destroy, and his eyes narrowed as he saw Allen moving in. 'Hold on... what's she doing...?' he thought.

His eyes widened as he realized what she was up to.

"Oh crap..." he muttered, shocked. "She's crazy!"

. . .

Allen pushed her NEMO's thrusters to maximum, nearing the Destroy as she did so. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to formulate a plan of attack. She knew the Destroy was heavily armed, and had those detachable arms, the "Sturm Faust" arm beam cannons, that could chase around enemy mobile suits. 'Those arm beam cannons are going to be the main threat from that thing. So that means a long range attack is out. And close range will be a pain too. That "Schneidschutz" beam shield will be blocking any and all attacks, even beam sabers. The armor will be hard to penetrate too,' Allen noted as she kept an eye on the Destroy.

As if to taunt her, the Destroy deployed its Sturm Faust arm beam cannons, making Allen yelp as she began to initiate evasive maneuvers. "Shit!" she swore. "All units, scatter! The Sturm Faust are deployed and mobile! I repeat, the Sturm Faust are deployed and mobile!"

The split beam gun in each arm beam cannon, disguised as hands, opened fire on Warhead Team. The squadron broke apart, taking action to avoid the beam attacks.

Warhead Team darted around, weaving between the beams that were fired at them, but it wasn't easy. Allen knew one of them had to get to the Destroy to at least knock it out of the fight somehow. She knew her NEMO had a GIR round amongst the other rounds in her Clay Bazooka, but the Destroy was just too large to slow down with the adhesive round. Allen gritted her teeth, trying to figure out what to do for her plan of attack. She slashed at a few beams that were fired in her direction, deflecting them, but the third shot sent her beam saber spinning out of her NEMO's grasp.

"Dammit... There went my sword..." Allen grumbled before she took out her Clay Bazooka and held it at the ready. She landed and aimed the bazooka at the first of the Sturm Faust arm beam cannons flying around. Allen had her NEMO squeeze the trigger, sending a round flying at the mobile arm. The round hit, but it had only hit the Schneidshutz beam shield instead. 'Those stupid beam shields just allow the damn thing to tank whatever we throw at it!'

The mobile arm turned and flew at Allen's NEMO, forcing the politician-turned-pilot to dodge it as the beam cannon hand fired at her. Allen was forced to bring out her machine's shield, which took the blast thanks to an anti-beam coating on it. Allen was pushed back by the blast, but her shield held.

The mobile arm flew away, the smoke having concealed Allen's machine from view, making it look like she was eliminated.

Allen decided to take advantage of that and engaged her NEMO's thrusters again at full speed, coming out of the smoke in a rush of fire and sound. She aimed at the mobile arm from behind and fired off another round, this time hitting the mobile arm in the rear thruster. She smirked as the thruster began to malfunction, but it didn't last long, as the mobile arm managed to return to its host instead of blowing up. Allen glanced down at her Clay Bazooka, noting the light on the bazooka's top handle was red; each round had differing lights (green was explosive, red was adhesive, etc.).

'Dang it... I can't risk using the adhesive round, not against that Destroy. It's not meant to stop that monster,' Allen thought dismally. She looked up from the visual of the red light, watching as her team tried to get in close to the large WMD, but the beam shield made that difficult. Not to mention the "Nerfertem 503" cannons that were hidden in that giant disc on its back.

Allen gritted her teeth. 'If only we could remove that giant disc! Then the majority of that thing's armament would be gone! It would also remove that stupid beam shield from play as well, but whenever we try to get close to it, that shield is able to defend even the emitters!' Her mind was racing a mile a minute to try and come up with a viable plan to stop that thing. She knew there was a weak spot somewhere on it, but where that was she didn't know.

The pilot landed her NEMO and began running at the Destroy, using her thrusters to weave between the beam shots that came from the other mobile arm as well as from those Nefertem 503 cannons that were firing at her. Allen narrowed her eyes as she ran through possible plans. 'Attacking from the top is an option, but the most dangerous due to those cannons and that monster's head. The sides are out as well, since the cannons are all along the edges of that dumb disc. So, that's three options out, which leaves only attacking from the bottom as an option. It's viable, but risky.'

She jerked the controls left and right, dodging more beams that came her way. Allen was even using the smaller thrusters on her NEMO to dodge the beams that barely missed her machine. The former politician could feel her machine being pushed to its limit, but it was all she could do to stay away from those beams and get to the target. Allen could see the Destroy was getting closer, as the size of it was getting bigger on her cockpit monitors. Allen engaged her thrusters again and pushed off the ground at high speed, getting airborne briefly. She knew she was taking a big risk, because of not just the beam cannons, but the missile launchers on the Destroy as well.

As if on cue, the missile launchers facing towards the ground fired off missiles at her NEMO. Allen landed her NEMO and began dodging the missiles, again using the smaller thrusters on her machine to avoid the incoming warheads. It wasn't easy, but Allen was able to avoid the missiles and get to within range of the Destroy. Allen put her NEMO into a run again before engaging the back and leg thrusters, jumping off the ground and having her NEMO grab onto the back of the giant cannons on back of the disc.

Allen's NEMO dangled off the rear of the cannons before she quickly stowed the Clay Bazooka on her machine's back and pulled out a second beam saber. She ignited the blade and slashed the cannons' exterior, creating a foot hold. Stowing the beam saber after it was deactivated, Allen then had her NEMO begin its climb up the back of the disc. She had her NEMO climb up slowly, trying to keep her machine from being fired on. Slowly, Allen's NEMO climbed up the massive twin barreled cannons, slipping right onto the side the cannons themselves and clinging there. The remaining mobile arm beam cannon didn't even see her. But the Verde Buster's pilot did and let out a shout of anger.

EX-C-1043 let loose a barrage of weapons fire, but the Destroy's beam shield kicked in, not only blocking the barrage, but also shielding Allen's NEMO from harm. The sound of explosions could be heard outside Allen's NEMO, and her machine was even being rocked by the sound vibrations of each explosions. But she didn't back down. Allen kept climbing before she heard another explosion, right behind her NEMO. She gritted her teeth as she felt the vibrations of the explosion all throughout her NEMO. Despite the unease of being in such a precarious situation, and her own fear of getting shot down, Allen kept going. Her NEMO finally reached the area where the emitter sat.

Allen pulled her NEMO to stand right in between the two twin barreled cannons, pulling the Clay Bazooka off of her machine's back as she did so. Making sure her NEMO was wedged in securely, Allen then aimed the Bazooka at the emitter. She knew the GIR was meant to immobilize enemy Mobile Suits, and was very difficult to remove once applied, even going as far as to gum up weapons that were caught in it. 'If that holds true, then the GIR should be able to do the same to the beam shield emitter.' Allen reasoned, despite having never done such a thing before.

However, her next actions would secure her a ranking she had never intended to receive, and earn her a feat no one else would accomplish...

Allen pulled the trigger, and the Gelatinous Immobilization Round fired from the barrel of the Clay Bazooka. The muzzle barked loudly, releasing a flash of fire and smoke. The round impacted the emitter, covering it in a gelatinous greenish goop almost at once, just as more weapons fire from the Verde Buster came her way. Realizing she was now exposed, Allen had her NEMO move out from between the cannons to stand on the protrusions from the very back that stuck up. Then, Allen engaged her NEMO's thrusters and pushed off as quickly as she could. She moved to the left to avoid getting shot at by the Verde Buster, landing and then bursting into a run.

Glancing back, Allen saw her teammates peppering the massive disc with weapons fire, now doing some damage. "All Warhead Team members, keep opening fire! The beam shield emitter is disabled! Repeat, beam shield emitter is disabled!"

As Warhead Team continued to fire on the Destroy's disc, with the WMD opening fire with its main weapons, the Extended pilot was frantically trying to get the beam shield to activate, but to no avail.

No one noticed it, but the GIR's gelatinous goop was slowly starting to heat up, turning a dark red before slowly increasing in temperature to become a bright red, then a bright orange, and then a bright yellow, slowly becoming white hot. Smoke was beginning to emit from the area, making Warhead Team alert to something was going on. They began to back off, thinking the Destroy was mortally damaged.

Inside the Destroy's cockpit, the Extended pilot noticed something was off with the shield emitter. It seemed to be getting hotter and hotter...?

The Destroy stood there, one minute ready to fire, the next, a flash. Fire erupted outwards, right from the back of the weapons disc. It engulfed the Destroy's entire upper half, throwing flaming debris everywhere while the one remaining mobile arm beam cannon fell to the ground, now useless without its pilot source. The bottom half of the Destroy was engulfed by the power source of the Destroy exploding, completely annihilating the WMD...

Allen grunted as she felt the debris peppering her NEMO's shield; she had knelt her NEMO down and ducked behind the shield just as the Destroy had exploded. The rain of debris seemed to never end, making Allen wonder what had just happened. Eventually though, the debris rain stopped falling, and Allen was then slowly able to remove her NEMO's shield cautiously. What she saw stunned her; all that remained was the burning hulk of the Destroy...

Herc, Max, their squadrons, EXC-1304 and EXC-1043 all glanced back, shocked at what they were witnessing.

The two Extended were shocked by this sudden turn of events, and that was all Max needed to lunge forward. Her eyes were wide as she grasped her beam saber and ignited it, a cry escaping her as she floored the thrusters to maximum burn.

"RAAAAAAH!"

EXC-1304 glanced back and his eyes narrowed as he brought the Tempest blade to bear, only for a second NEMO to move in and block it with its own beam saber, startling him. His mismatched eyes went wide as a third NEMO, this time further back, aimed its infamous weapon, the Clay Bazooka, and fired a round right for him. He broke off the attack and brought his Cerberus pistols to bear, only for another NEMO to snipe at him with its 170mm cannon. He fired the pistols at the incoming dual rounds, but the bullets weren't enough to stop them. In fact, the 170mm round was the one to avoid being detonated. It slammed into his machine's left arm, damaging the joint and causing it to fall limp as the hydraulics and cables had been cut.

EXC-1304's eyes hardened as he focused his mind on the fury within him, and he saw a black jewel-like seed fall, shattering on impact with a hard surface, a dark essence flooding out of the center. His eyes dilated and glazed over, and at once the NEMOs assaulting him began to back off, their pilots flooded with fear and despair. He sneered as he aimed his remaining pistol and fired again, this time aiming for the NEMO that had damaged his machine.

However, he was not expecting a fifth NEMO to jump him from behind, its beam saber flashing as one of his massively powerful Vernier thrusters was lopped off. He spun around, his eyes narrowed as he aimed the MGX 2230 long range multi-phase beam cannon on his unit's right shoulder. The gun roared at point-blank range, slamming into the NEMO that had disabled his incredible speed. However, the enemy machine brought their shield up to block the shot, only to lose its arm and shield from the force of the impact and subsequent explosion. He grunted as he pulled back, leaping away from the NEMOs as they started to circle in, but with only one Vernier, he was down his greatest asset: speed.

All he could do was try to hold the line.

But...

In the end, it was all for naught.

A shrieking cry like that of a Valkyrie of Norse mythology caught his attention and he spun, his eyes wide as he saw the leading NEMO coming at him, beam saber thrust out like a javelin. The Extended tried to block, but a sixth NEMO's round from their machine gun disabled the Specter's right arm, and he only could think of one word.

'How...?' was all he thought before the beam saber impaled his machine, striking him down in an instant.

. . .

"NOOOO!" EXC-1043 screeched as she spun her machine around and charged for the machine that had once belonged to her 'brother'.

In her despair, she completely ignored the squadron she was fighting, and that proved to be her downfall.

Herc's eyes narrowed as he gripped his controls and grabbed the beam saber before igniting the violet blade. "All units, go on the attack!" he barked, seizing his chance. "We can't let this thing escape!"

"Yes, sir!" the men and women under his command replied.

He watched as one of his pilots shifted to their BOWA BR-M-82L-9 L-9 Type Beam Rifle, aiming carefully at the Verde Buster's thrusters. He knew who that man was, and he nodded as the man's machine fired, sending a beam rifle shot right for the fleeing unit's thrusters. The shot hit, causing the mobile suit to tumble to the ground, smoke billowing from the thruster pack. The Verde Buster staggered to its feet, one limb still immobilized by the GIR.

That was all that was needed for the rest of his unit to approach, their weapons held at the ready.

He smirked as he saw a few of his pilots aiming their HFW-GR·MR82-90mm GM Rifles at the Verde Buster as its pilot tried to retaliate, only for them to fire their shots at its weapons and disable them. The EXC's screams came over the speaker as she was slowly defanged by his squadron. He had to admit, this was going a lot better than he had hoped, even if it was seeming like a turkey shoot now with the Destroy out of the picture.

He glanced over just in time to see one of his other pilots waving his machine's hand.

That was all Herc needed. He gripped his beam saber's hilt and gunned his thrusters. His NEMO leapt into the air, his eyes hard as he positioned his blade point down at the Verde Buster's chest. The machine's head seemed to jerk back in shock, and he swore for a moment that there was a look of shock in those green optic covers, but he brushed it aside as he dove down, driving the beam saber into the Verde Buster's chest, impaling the Extended girl and causing her to gasp out two last words.

"But... why...?"

Herc looked down, his eyes hidden beneath his graying brown hair. "Because, kid... we're fighting for the future..." he muttered. "And we're not about to die until that is accomplished."

. . .

"No matter what."

. . .

Resistance Warehouse Headquarters

Denver, Colorado

December 15th, CE 0073

"So, it went well?" the President asked.

General Landon nodded on the monitor. "Yes, ma'am," he replied. "We secured the camp and got those kids to safety." His eyes darkened and he looked a bit green around the gills. "But... God... what in the name of the Lord is wrong with these people?"

"Just tell me what the status is," Eisenhower demanded.

"Y-Yes, ma'am..." The general took a chance to calm himself before he began speaking. "We were able to secure the camp, but not without a bloody fight. About a fifth of the assault force was taken out, but that was to be expected. The losses were within operational expectancy, and the unit can still fight. All core units are still operational, which offsets the losses we sustained. Sicario's Ronin Team was able to take the camp from the inside, and they brought the camp commandant out for interrogation, which is going on even as we speak."

"Good. And what of the kids?" the President inquired.

"God... A lot of them had injuries that looked as if they had only been treated as an afterthought. One boy lost both eyes and has thick stitches, with pus oozing out every now and then," General Landon admitted with a green tinge to his face. "A number of them are suffering from rickets, and it's just a medical disaster down here. We're going to need them airlifted right away to safer locations for comprehensive treatment for their medical problems."

"Already have that in motion," Eisenhower said with a serious look to Dr. Lars who was working with the resistance's own airline pilots to coordinate the transportation of the victims.

The general's eyes widened briefly, but then he sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand. "At least they'll be treated," he muttered.

"Second, any pilots of note that stood out?" Eisenhower asked.

"Huh?" General Landon's eyes widened at the question. "Uh... why do you want to know, ma'am?"

"Just call it curiosity," the resistance commander said mysteriously.

"Well... in that case, there is one who stood out," he admitted. His image shrank to the left hand side of the screen and up came the file of the soldier in question. "Pilot Mackenzie Samantha Allen. Born into the Allen political dynasty, she's got a real knack for political games, and she's one crazy pilot." He sighed. "Usually one has to be an ace to deal with a Destroy, right? Well... turns out she made ace by taking down that beast."

Eisenhower's eyes went wide at that. "Wait. What?!"