Gundam Wing: The Phoenix Rising

by Titanic X

A tie-in novel to Gundam Wing: Destiny's Call. The American front in the war is unknown and unheard of. But as the world is embroiled in another war, the Resistance sends a mole to take command of a mighty battle group. This is the story of the Phoenix, and of how the Resistance began their fight to liberate America's citizens from their brainwashing. This is... Phoenix Rising!

43. PHASE XLII: Satellite Siege III

Hey, peeps~! Here's the next chapter of The Phoenix Rising. I hope you guys are ready for what's coming here. ;) Next up is the final stage of the siege of Satellite City. And trust me, this one is gonna be a doozy! ;3

- operation meteor: Hey, I wanted to do that for some time! XD And the Atlas Firewall does indeed seem like something the Atlantian Reich would have implemented. The shadow war between LOGOs and the UN does seem plausible in my head, because it seems a little too strange that the EA would have formed just two days after the attack on Copernicus. If you think about it, the UN in real life took two months to form. A new alliance in just two days doesn't seem realistic to me. :P

- KentLinuxStadfelt: Well, she did have this in the works. ;3 And glad ya liked Price. :3

- 1800009trumbullps . net: Thanks! :) I wanted her speech to be a real good one. :)

- Anthony (Guest): Sorry, but I'm not taking requests.

- ligerzero4782: Well, you'll have to see and find out. ;3

- CT7567Rules: I can understand your rant, believe me! XD But to be clear, the terrorists LOGOs hired were the ones who carried it out. But they did deflect the blame towards the PLANTs in an attempt to divert attention, and it worked. And yes, Eisenhower is not holding back with that gun! XD I will drop a small spoiler: in one battle in the next arc, she definitely fires the damn thing one-handed! XD

---

(The screen shows only blackness before a small light is shown in the center, growing larger until a fire ignites, panning around to show the Strike Dagger S equipped with the Phoenix Striker flying through space, a tattered American flag shown flapping on a flagpole in a huge colony)

START MIKAKUNIN HIKOUSEN BY TAKAYOSHI TANIMOTO

(The camera pans in towards the colony where it shows several members of the resistance gathered: President Eisenhower, Steven Krane, Mackenzie Samantha Allen, Turbine Martinez, Keith Martinez, Marcus Wolcott and his squadron, Warren Thompson, Robert "Rob" Jackson, Kyle Eisen, and Turbine's squad mates)

Oh yeah! Be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The group is standing before the Redemption in the background, a shadowing mobile suit above them and below the ship)

Pass the orbit beyond the sky (The camera pivots away from them and out to show a map of the Atlantian Reich split into two colors: blue showing the resistance and purple showing the Reich)

I can't hold back this rushing speed (The camera zooms in on Denver as Eisenhower is shown standing atop a tank, waving her hand as she barks an order into a headset she's wearing)

A familiar town becomes a diorama (The screen is flooded with dust as a tank speeds by, showing a single pinprick of light as a shuttle is launched into orbit from Orb)

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

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 mobile suits fly overhead, panning down to show Sicario's Pacific Fleet, each heading towards Orb, the shadow of Djibril over it, his hands cupping around the island)

Oh yeah! Show off, mess up, and stand back up (The image is suddenly shattered as a huge gun shell slams into it before the camera pans to the left to show two ships in shadow, both bearing the flag of the United States Navy)

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 clashing with a shadowy mobile suit)

Use the sun that lights tomorrow as a guide (A sinister dark aura surges out from the mobile suit, twin eyes glaring at the assembled warriors, the image of Durandal shown off to the side)

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 XLII: Satellite Siege III

DECEMBER 27th, 0073 CE

The alarm began to blare in the background as Keith blinked.

"Oh, come on! Not now!" he moaned.

It had hardly even been two days, and already there was another attack inbound.

Keith gritted his teeth as he stood up from his desk in his office and made his way towards the door leading into the main command center. The door hissed open and he emerged into a complete mess as officers and staff ran around, trying to coordinate the resistance's pilots and soldiers to counter the attack. One of the men glanced to Keith as he came into the room. "Sir!"

"What's the situation?" Keith demanded as he approached.

"It's not good, sir," the man remarked. "They're bringing in the big guns this time."

Keith's eyes widened as he glanced to the main monitor. "Show me!" he barked.

The man nodded and turned to look at a woman sitting at the controls. She nodded back and turned to face the screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard. The main monitor flickered with static before it started to give way. The satellite feed from the hijacked Atlantian satellites in orbit was beamed directly to their base, and as the static faded, it showed the entire area around Satellite City, along with the city itself. The camera panned to the left a bit, and his eyes widened in utter shock and horror as he stared at one of the remaining Destroy Gundams making its way towards them.

"Oh, fuck...!" he muttered. "They actually finished repairing those things?!"

"More like one, sir," the man replied. "From what intercepts we've gotten, it looks like the Atlantians have cannibalized the last one to repair this one. It's not as thorough as they would have liked, but it will suffice for this mission."

Keith pursed his lips. "I see..."

"There's also something else we wanted to bring up with you," the woman said as she looked back over her shoulder.

"Great..." Keith rubbed his head with his hands as he felt a headache starting to build. "First this attack in just two days, and now the Destroy... What else does God have to throw our way?"

"Take a look for yourself..." She gestured to the main monitor before she turned back to her keyboard and typed in a set of new commands. The screen pivoted to the left a bit further and zoomed out, this time showing way off to the left a pair of large air transports.

"Oh come on!" someone blurted. "An air drop?!"

"Looks that way to me," Keith muttered. He lowered his hands and folded his arms. "What are we dealing with here?" he asked.

"From the looks of things, I'd have to say a potential game breaker," the woman admitted. Her eyes were hard as she glanced back at her superior. "And not in a good way for us."

The AI expert narrowed his eyes. "Man... This is a no-win situation for us..." he muttered.

"Maybe, but since we refused to even answer their ultimatum, that only means one thing in their eyes," another officer admitted. His eyes narrowed to mere slits. "We have to be killed."

"And we're not about to let that happen, right?" a scared preteen asked from by her mother.

Keith closed his eyes and unfolded his arms, clenching his fists as he straightened up. He sighed heavily. "To be honest, by all rights, we should have accepted their ultimatum. And by all rights, we should not have done what we did. We should not even be doing what we are doing now."

"So we should just give up?!" someone yelled.

But Keith didn't answer. "I said by all rights we shouldn't be doing this." His eyes opened. "But the truth of the matter is... reality does not always conform to what we want it to be. And that means even doing what we are doing now. In most cases, people should say this is impossible. And yet he truth is... it can happen! It can be done! It may take time and effort, and even cause stress in those who carry it out, and maybe even death. But to unite and keep such a diverse movement together... if Italy could do it... if France could do it... If two countries could do it in World War II, then who's to say we can't?!"

Already some people were looking at one another as the computer expert/commander began to pace. "I mean, when it comes down to it, Americans tend to unite when something is on the line, or when something provokes them into action. Case in point: Pearl Harbor. 9/11. Both events united the country. Except 9/11 went one step further and, for a brief time, united the world against al-Qaeda. When that failed, then a new effort happened through the Ukraine War. That war united the world against Russia. And the entire world, or close to it, sent millions of dollars' worth in military supplies, aid, and even food. Britain handed over two warships to become the foundation of the new Ukrainian Navy. And all sorts of other things happened during that conflict."

A few people nodded as Keith continued. "So, it is possible for us to be united! And right now, we are united in our efforts to purge LOGOs from every possible corner of the world! But it doesn't stop there! Instead, it's something a lot bigger! This war will eventually lead us to fight the PLANTs, and so we have to unite the world again, but not against the PLANTs as a whole. It must be against whatever Supreme Chairman Durandal has planned for the war and the world as a whole!"

"And as such," Keith remarked as he turned to look at the men and women under his command, "we have to defeat Djibril first! And the best way to do that is to shatter the misconceptions of his Ghost Squadrons!"

People began to nod and smile as he continued to speak. "That's why we have to do this! That's why we will do this! We can and WILL defeat Ghoul Squadron! WE WILL SURVIVE THIS WAR!" Keith roared.

Everyone burst into cheers at that.

The AI expert turned back to the main monitor as his eyes hardened. "Mobilize all pilots!" he ordered. "It's time we end Ghoul Squadron once and for all!"

"OOORAAAHH!" came the cry.

With that, the command was sent.

Already in the hangar bay, people were scrambling to get all machines ready for battle. The Blasts were fully charged and Turbine's weapons were checked over. But the AI was not going into battle undefended this time. While his EXCEED Phase Shift Armor did provide a good amount of defense, it was not an all-perfect defensive measure. This time, a new weapon was being procured for him.

It was not a weapon in the traditional sense.

Instead, it was a new type of shield. A shield that had been heavily modified to support extra armor as well as a special cooling system for keeping a mobile suit cool in the event of atmospheric reentry. Called the Titan Shield, it was considered a part of the next generation of mobile suits for the resistance. However, due to the lack of sufficient machines to equip with it, the first of the models made was going to Turbine.

And that very shield would be what led to Atlas' permanent fall.

Turbine took the shield in his servos and looked at it with a quizzical tilt of his helm and a questioning hum. "W-What's this?"

"That, Turbine, is a new prototype shield that we've developed to allow a mobile suit to survive reentry from orbit," one of the techs explained. "It's got a special cooling system that pumps out coolant at a high rate, and its got thick layers of armor as well, so it can take some serious damage. But it's good for only one use in terms of orbital reentry. So you gotta make sure it counts when you do it... if you ever do."

"O...Okay?" Turbine was confused. "But why give it to me if I'm not going to perform an orbital drop?"

"Because the commander thinks you'll be needing it at some point," the tech replied. "Just take the thing and go. We're kind of busy here, and you'll be needing all the protection you can get!"

The AI wasn't sure, but he did see the merit in additional protection, so he just took the shield and made his way to the launch bay.

Already he could see the surviving members of Strider Squadron preparing for launch. Marcus was already on the first catapult, but the other one was empty. A pang of despair shot through Turbine's chest and he clenched his servos into fists, remembering the death of Alicia. His optics dimmed a shade as he bowed his helm. A quiet, choked noise escaped his vocalizer at the memory file of her demise at the hands of one of Ghoul Squadron.

This time, he vowed, no member of Ghoul Squadron was going to live past this day.

The alarm blared and Turbine looked up, just in time to see Marcus' Blast rocket down the catapult. The controller was linked to his COMM system in a few seconds. "Turbine, this is Control. You're set to launch on Catapult One!"

"Roger that," Turbine muttered darkly. His optics returned to their usual cyan shade as he approached the catapult and stepped onto the launch platform. The clamps locked over his feet and he crouched as he spotted Diane and George also mounting the catapults. He could see through the body language of their machines that they too felt the same way as he did. He nodded to both of his wingmen and they returned it.

"Turbine, launch timing has been transferred!" Control reported.

"Ready to launch!" Turbine growled, his fists clenching tighter as he flexed his wings.

"Launching!"

The AI felt the pressure building on his frame as he was launched down the catapult, the platform nearing the end of the tunnel in mere seconds. The clamps on his feet fell away and he kicked on his engines, wings flared to full width as he dashed out, followed closely behind by his two squad mates. He could already see the enemy coming, and he gripped his new shield tightly in his left servo.

'This time, Bruno... I will be the one who kills you!' he thought.

As the trio approached the front of the base's perimeter, George's voice echoed in Turbine's audios. "Yo, Turbine. You sure you're ready for this one?' he asked as a small image of his face appeared in his vision's HUD.

"Never been more ready, George," Turbine growled. "These guys deserve no less than death for their actions in Europe!"

"That's only scratching the tip of the iceberg," Diana muttered. Her voice was icy cold as she appeared in his lower left vision on a small screen. "Rumor has it that they did more than just terrorize the Europeans."

Turbine felt a strange sensation of something sinking within his frame, right where a stomach would have been if he were human. It was so eerie it weirded him out. He couldn't help but shudder at the thought. "W-What else did they do?" he asked with a slight stammer.

"Diane, do you think it's wise to tell him?!" George snapped.

"He has to know, George. For his own sake as well as ours," Diane remarked. "It's the right thing to do. Remember?"

George opened his mouth to speak, only to pause and think better of it before he closed his mouth and sighed. "Yeah. I guess you're right. Turbine does need to know what they did."

"So... what did they do?" the AI asked, a sense of dread welling up in his chest.

"They didn't just terrorize or murder soldiers..." Diane admitted finally. "They also raped women, girls, boys, men... they pillaged... they were utter barbarians to the Eurasians. And their rampages were so brutal they terrorized many into hiding. That's how they operate. Fear. Pure, primal fear. No one had the guts to stand up to such barbarities. It made them too scared to even act. And Bruno... he actually ate a woman's heart, uterus, and ovaries, claiming it gave him vitality. And it was on live TV."

Turbine swore his batteries would run down he was so horrified. He couldn't believe that someone could be so... ruthless... so...

He was worse than a man.

Bruno was a beast. A beast in human skin.

The AI's optics flared brightly as he gripped his shield's handle in his left servo. "That thing... will be put down!" he hissed.

"All of them will!" Marcus cut in, his image reducing the other two's faces as he appeared as well. "We all made the same vow after Alicia's death."

Turbine looked to the left as he saw Strider Squadron coming up beside them. "After all, I still owe them for her demise!" Dick muttered, his eyes hard as bronze. He glanced to Turbine. "You holding up, Turbine?"

The AI nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine." He then paused. "Or rather, I will be once that animal is put down."

The group all nodded their machines' heads.

This time, it was personal.

They were going to kill Ghoul Squadron.

One way or another.

. . .

Bruno cackled madly as he watched the rebels start to emerge from their hidden base.

This was going to be perfect.

There was no way they were going to win with this much firepower directed at them. Not even their little guns could stop a Destroy's full arsenal! The sheer joy he felt in seeing their futile efforts was enough to make him sneer in glee. This time, he would kill those fools, especially that AI!

The huge Destroy continued to lumber towards the base, and his eyes flashed as he held up his machine's beam scythe. Now was the time for Darwin's law to be enacted, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Already his sensors were beeping, sending data right to his monitors. His sneer faded into a scowl as he observed the incoming units.

Seven were of those unknown aerial models and three were custom units.

The first one his eyes landed on and he knew it was going to zero in on him. The way it was moving indicated that it was the AI, Turbine or whatever it was called now. And he saw that the thing was now equipped with a shield. He scoffed. Foolish, really. There was no way just a simple shield could hold back his attacks for long.

The AI sped at him, and he brought up his beam scythe, blocking the cyan beam saber as it tried to cut through the anti-beam-coated handle. The man chuckled at the machine's effort. "You stupid code. You think you can beat me?"

Those cyan optics flashed, but the machine didn't respond. Instead, it just pressed harder. "What? No longer feel like talking or taunting me?" he asked.

Still the AI said nothing. Instead, it only pushed harder, this time a low growl coming from its chest as it shifted its grip on its beam saber, and shoved the blade aside, also moving Bruno's weapon. Then the AI shoved its shield forward, bashing him right in the chest with the flat surface. He felt the impact rattle his Windam Reaper and he coughed as he hit the controls briefly. He was thrown back as his machine was shoved back. He gripped the controls and worked them until his Windam was skidding on its feet, leaving gouge marks in the ground. He flared the Jet Striker and came to a stop, looking up just in time to see the AI bearing down on him, wings splayed wide open to add to its imposing appearance.

Bruno just scowled.

So this thing wasn't interested in banter now, hm? Maybe it was going to turn on its masters after all.

If that were the case, then he'd have to take it out and fast. He gripped his beam scythe before charging in once more, flaring his Jet Striker and rocketing back into the air, swinging his weapon with a broad sweeping motion. The red blade barely clipped the chest plate of his opponent as it boosted back, holding its saber in front of its chest. Those cyan optics pulsed darkly before it charged in, a battle cry escaping its vocalizer. The machine swung its beam saber in a devastating slash, but Bruno was quick to dodge it by shifting right with his maneuvering thrusters. The Windam Reaper became a blur of black and white as it spun around, the left leg lashing out in a roundhouse, forcing the AI to block with its shield.

The AI grunted from the force of keeping the Windam's foot back. Bruno didn't even hesitate to launch another swing of his scythe, and the AI ducked the blade. He spun his machine around and hefted his weapon before he lifted his Windam's arms and spun the scythe over his machine's head. He narrowed his eyes before he lowered his weapon and aimed the pointed end at the AI's chest. "This time, you will be terminated!" he growled.

"Hardly!" the AI suddenly hissed, the sheer malice in that synthesized voice startling him. "Especially after what you pulled in Europe!"

"Whatever do you mean?" Bruno chortled, almost amused by the AI's attempts to scare him.

"I mean what you pulled to that innocent woman!" the AI spat. "You're no man. You're a beast in human skin! A cannibal!"

Bruno's stomach plummeted to his feet as he heard that. His eyes widened in utter disbelief as he realized that his greatest crime had been revealed. And to an AI no less! The AI's optics flared as it pointed its beam saber at him. "And as such, you are the one who deserves to be terminated!"

The man snarled as he gripped his beam scythe in both hands. "So be it then!" he muttered. "You think you can kill me?! I've beaten worms that were more skilled than you ever could hope to be!" Then he licked his lips. "And besides, how else was I supposed to secure my vitality?"

"You are sick, man! Sick in the head and soul!" the AI hissed. "You're no better than Dr. Sung if this is what you do!"

The Ghoul narrowed his eyes. "I have never been saner than I am now," he remarked. "The reason I did what I did that day was because I was sick. I needed to recover, and my body was rejecting the drugs they gave me! So I needed to find a new way to regain my vitality and elan! So I decided what better way than to take the lifegiving womb of a woman? After all, it is fitting in that sense."

"That's just pseudoscience!" the AI snapped. "There has never been any proof of that being the cure for disease!"

"Then again, what do you know?" Bruno sneered. "It worked, did it not, for I am still here!"

The AI had nothing else to say.

. . .

Turbine had nothing else to say to the man.

His optics flared as he gripped his beam saber and held his shield in front of his chest.

The man charged at him, this time firing the CIWS in his machine's chest and head. But the AI was quick to duck behind his shield to protect his optics. Those, he knew, were sensitive and prone to getting damaged. So he was not about to take any chances with this.

He took a chance to cast a quick glance around the battlefield.

Already he could see Strider Squadron gunning for the rest of Ghoul Squadron, while his two teammates clashed with the remaining two members. Down on the ground he saw the rest of the base's personnel preparing to mobilize to defend against the huge Destroy coming their way. While it was some miles out, it was only a matter of time before it reached the perimeter, and he did not want to be caught in the middle of a fight against Ghoul Squadron with that thing raging in the background.

So they were on a time crunch.

A countdown appeared in his vision, broadcast from the main base.

Along with it was an unsaid message.

Win this.

Turbine subtly nodded his helm.

'I will, Father! I... no... We will win this one!' he thought.

He glanced back up just in time to see Bruno swinging his scythe as he charged in, forcing Turbine to duck under the swing and retaliate with a shield slam right to the Windam Reaper's chest. The force of the impact rattled his struts, but he didn't let it stop him as he gunned his thrusters to maximum burn. Bruno screamed as he was shoved back by the force, but Turbine did not let up. His optics flashed bright cyan as he shouted, pushing the Windam Reaper towards the ground. Bruno turned his machine's head to the rear to look over his shoulder before returning his focus to the AI. He drew back the right servo of his mobile suit and thrust it forward, slugging the shield and forcing Turbine to pull away.

Both came to a hover, and he hissed through his vents.

This... was not gonna be easy, that was for sure...

Bruno chortled as he brought his scythe up. "So, what now?" he purred.

The AI didn't respond. He was through talking to this beast of a man. He gripped his shield and beam saber before he charged in, bringing back his blade for a powerful overhead slash. Bruno brought up his scythe to block with the beam blade, crimson clashing with cyan. Sparks flew from the impact point, but both did not yield. In fact, Turbine was quick to shift his grip on his saber before he reversed his grip on it and spun around, driving the cyan blade into the left shoulder of his machine, doing the exact same thing he had done to Turbine during their first fight. Bruno grunted as he pulled back, looking at the gaping gash on his machine's shoulder joint. "Stupid AI...!"

The winged Gundam sped to the right, shifting his grip on his beam saber and shield, this time moving the beam saber to his left servo and his shield to his right servo. He brought his beam saber down in a nasty axe slash that gashed the left leg of Bruno's Windam. The enemy pilot though jerked back before any real damage could be done; the blade as a result only scraped paint, leaving scorched metal behind. Turbine's optics dimmed a shade as he came to a hover, panting slightly as he observed his opponent.

This was his third fight with the man, and although he was holding his own, it was clear that Bruno was far more experienced than he was.

But then again, Turbine had an edge that he did not.

His ability to learn much quicker than a human.

So he started to analyze Bruno's movements as he came at him once more. The AI was silent as he observed the man's machine. He noted the way the shoulders moved, the slight tensing of the hydraulics and joints, the slightest twitch of the digits or feet... All of it he examined and took in as he blocked, dodged, and parried each blow. He filed away the relevant information before he paused, and started to go on the attack.

He brought his beam saber back as he flared his wings and charged in, intent on bringing this beast down, once and for all.

. . .

Marcus gritted his teeth as he brought his beam saber up to block Fritz's next strike.

The other ace was just as determined as he was to not be defeated by a 'lesser' human.

But Marcus did not believe in one tribe being superior to others. He only wanted to see these men die for their sick beliefs.

His SEED-dilated eyes narrowed as he pushed his Blast's engines to full power, bringing up his linear rifle and firing the 200mm round right for the Windam he was facing. The other man dove down, bringing out his twin anti-ship swords before slashing with them, cutting the round in half. He looked up, his machine's visor flashing before he charged in, trying to cut the distance between the two. Marcus dodged to the left, barely avoiding the blades as they cleaved through the air mere inches from where he had moved. He released a pair of missiles from his Blast's shoulders at close to point-blank range, striking the Windam and forcing it to move back, giving himself some much needed breathing room.

"Zat... vas unexpected..." Fritz growled.

Marcus didn't respond. He merely aimed his rifle again and fired a pair of 60mm rounds instead. The two rounds struck the Windam's chest, denting the armor and making the pilot grunt from the hits. He was by now panting as he hovered there, eyeing the other mobile suit with grim determination in his SEED Mode eyes.

For all that he was capable of, this man was not holding back. He could tell by the way his machine was poised, wings splayed and beam saber held at the ready. His beam rifle was held tightly in the left hand, beam saber in the right, and the optica visor flashed. "Zis time, you vill die!" Fritz roared. "You und all zose you claim to be equal!"

This was the final battle here. Either they won... or they lost.

And Marcus was sure as hell not going to die to some racist son of a bitch like him!

The rebel ace charged in, the thrusters on his Blast burning at full power as he fired the 200mm rifle once more, backed up by two 60mm rounds. The trio of shells forced Fritz to weave to avoid being hit. His machine dashed forward, the beam saber flashing as he swung it right for Marcus's Blast. The rebel ace cut his engines and he fell, the red blade just missing his machine's helm. He kicked on the thrusters a moment later, coming to a hover before he lashed out with his ES04 beam saber. The two blades slammed into one another, and Marcus pushed harder.

He gritted his teeth as he gunned his thrusters to maximum burn. "Your kind will die here!" he hissed, his eyes hardening. "For those you hurt... and those you murdered!"

Fritz growled as he tried to push back, but since Marcus was using his unit's full thruster power, it was a lot harder than he thought. He shifted his Windam using the maneuvering thrusters, trying to get a better edge against the rebel ace. But Marcus was not going to give up that easily. He grabbed his linear rifle and slammed the butt against the Windam's helm. The machine shook from it and drew back, shaking the helm. He glanced up, his voice coming over the external speakers.

"Zis vill end..." he chortled. "...vith your demise at ze hands of ze Destroyer!"

Marcus gritted his teeth. "Yeah, right!" he spat. "We're not gonna die tonight! Not since we have a reason to live!"

"HAH! As if!" Fritz cackled. "You will not live past this night!"

The rebel ace wasn't deterred though.

His eyes narrowed as he gripped the throttles tightly. "We'll see who lives and dies tonight!" he growled.

Fritz didn't even hesitate as he lunged forward, a roar escaping his throat as he brought his beam saber back for a brutal axe slash. Marcus brought his saber up to block, feeling the jolt and shudder throughout his machine's frame. He gritted his teeth to the point he swore they were going to break. But he was not about to back down now. He shifted a bit in his seat, maneuvering the right leg of his Blast up and then he stomped down on the pedal. The foot of his machine lashed out and collided solidly with the chest of Fritz's machine, making him shudder and then he retaliated with a swing of his violet blade, this time cleaving off the right forearm of his Windam. The Ghoul retreated, looking at the machine's stump of a forearm before shifting his gaze at his opponent.

Marcus merely rolled his neck before he adjusted himself and gripped the controls in a death grip.

He screamed as he shoved them forward, becoming a dark gray and black blur.

His violet beam saber hummed angrily as he swung it with all his might.

The blade barely clipped the edge of a wing of the Windam's Jet Striker. But it was enough to make Fritz scowl before he opened fire with his beam rifle. Marcus just cut his thrusters a second time, falling a few meters before reigniting them and charging right at him, firing his 60mm barrels of his linear rifle. The twin shells smashed right into the Windam's torso, creating several cracks on the cockpit and even causing electricity to erupt from one of the gaps that exposed the circuitry and systems. Fritz's eyes went wide as he screeched in rage, his Windam's optical visor flashing as he dashed in, bringing up his beam saber for another hit. Marcus dodged to the right, using his Blast's slimmer frame to his advantage. He shifted his arm and brought up the defense rods, causing both to spin and tank the blade of Fritz's beam saber.

But Marcus wasn't done yet. He drew back his machine's arm with the rifle and smashed the butt against the Windam's optical visor, shattering it and forcing Fritz to back off. He couldn't see anything, which is just what Marcus was counting on. He aimed his linear rifle a final time and fired off a single 200mm round.

Time seemed to slow down as it exited the barrel. Marcus's eyes narrowed and he drew upon all his skill, keeping his machine's arm aimed true and straight. The wind, the trajectory, the rotation of the earth, gravity... it all lined up. He could see it now.

Impact.

Time returned to normal and the round slammed into the Windam, the force of the shot propelling the round through the chest, turning Fritz into nothing but gore as it exited the back of the machine. The Windam seemed to be paused in the air, arms and legs splayed, the optical visor seeming to have widened before the entire unit exploded.

. . .

Keith shot his gaze up as he heard the explosion.

He glanced over to the main monitor that showed the greater battle raging.

Already he could see one of Ghoul Squadron go dark, and then the image displayed on the left side shifted to a darker tint, a large X right beside it.

Ghoul-2 was dead.

A sense of hope filled his chest as he watched the next fight on the main monitor.

But his focus was interrupted when he heard an unfamiliar voice reach his headset.

"Satellite City, this is Circus-1! We have the target!"

The callsign from their hired help was enough to make him gasp. He immediately dialed in, startling one of the women manning the communications suite.

"This is Satellite-1! Callsign confirmed, recognition code required!" he barked.

"Recognition code is Rodeo-Two-Three-Prima!" the voice replied.

"Code confirmed!" Keith remarked.

"You the commander of the city here?" Circus-1 radioed.

"Yes, that would be me!" the AI expert confirmed. "You arrived just in time!"

He shot a glance out the window just in time to see one of Sicario's transports circling around, coming from the opposite side of the city. The airport was finally operational, and the transport was the first one to land there. "It wasn't easy to get the trio, especially considering the status of that old ace, but we got them here safely," Circus-1 explained. "Bad news is his injuries are severe."

"How bad?" Keith demanded.

"From what we can see, he's got a broken spine and both arms have been shattered. They'll need to be rebroken and properly set so they can heal correctly. Had they remained in those casts without being properly set, his arms would've been misshapen and given him a lot of trouble later on in life." Circus-1 was serious as he explained this. "Maybe even causing amputation to be required."

Keith's eyes narrowed at that. "Shit...! Just how low do they have to go before people see damn reason?!" he hissed.

"That, sir, is something I'm not sure on," Circus-1 replied. "But I can tell you that the major and his companions have something very important for you to look over."

"Thanks for the information, Circus-1!" Keith said. "Unfortunately, due to the battle raging..."

"Right. We can't take off until further notice. We'll stay put until then, Commander," the pilot said.

The radio went dark and Keith turned to the airport's location, his eyes narrowed in worry. Already the guns around that section of the city were coming online as the Atlantian transports drew closer, this time disgorging mobile suits, and from the looks of things, these were those heavy assault models, the Grognards, or whatever they were called. Already he could see that a number of resistance mobile suits were deploying to intercept them and keep them from shooting down Sicario's transport plane. The GMs and Lotos were proving to be a real nuisance, primarily the Lotos with their tank form and shorter stature.

He shifted his gaze back to the main monitor and tapped a few keys on his console, bringing up the security cameras for that section of the city's mountain facade.

Sure enough, he could see the Grognards coming in with their weapons armed and ready. The autocannons on their left arms were firing their rounds at the Lotos as they weaved and wove around the battlefield in tank form. A few others were riding atop their fellows, firing missiles or grenades from their arm-mounted missile batteries and grenade launchers. The grenades were the most problematic for the Atlantians, as they exploded when the Lotos moved on. And in the chaos, no one could even really find them.

The missile barrages were dealing more damage to the ground than the Grognards, he noted. A look of concern briefly crossed his face as he wondered if they were off target. But when one of the Grognards stumbled on the debris and one leg fell into a crater, the tactic became clear to Keith. The Lotos were not aiming to destroy the Grognards in the sense that most others would assume; they were trying to destabilize their fire-control systems! Not just that, but it was to ensure that they couldn't use their Heavy Claymore mine launchers, which meant that they wouldn't be able to destroy or annihilate any structures!

Keith couldn't help but grin like a maniac at the thought. "Nice try, you bastards!" he chuckled. "You're not getting past this mountain!"

He watched as two of the Grognards attacked one of the Lotos, trying to punch and drive the Jet Magnums into their chassis and frames. But their smaller stature was proving to be an asset as the tank-like mobile suits swerved around and two of those Lotos riding atop the tanks fired their missiles right for the Grognards at close range. The projectiles slammed headlong into the chests of the two units, causing one to explode and the other to stagger back, its foot getting caught in the rubble and falling flat on its back. Already a few other Lotos were surrounding the downed Grognard and rebel forces were swarming out of one of the Lotos, guns at the ready. One of the soldiers ignited a blowtorch and took to cutting the cockpit open while their fellow pilots and rebels stood guard. It took less than five minutes to get the cockpit cover open, and then someone went to work on rewiring it to open. The fiddling didn't take long and the cockpit popped open, just as two soldiers reached in, cut the restrains, and hauled the man out brutally before dragging him over to a Loto for transport back to base.

A sudden explosion rocked the entire city, and at once dread began to form in the pit of Keith's stomach as he glanced over to where the smoke was coming from.

"Oh... shit..." he murmured.

He didn't need to see via satellite that the Destroy was just at the footstep of the city's borders.

. . .

Turbine growled as he pushed his thrusters to their limits, trying to get a brutal hit in on Bruno's Windam Reaper. The other pilot, though, was proving to be far too maneuverable and agile to get a hit in. His optics flickered as he scanned the Windam Reaper closely, looking for a weakness to strike at.

From what Bruno exhibited, he knew the man favored attacking from the right. And that he always drew his beam scythe back to the right to deliver a broad swing, intending to decapitate or cleave his opponents in half. And Turbine was going to exploit that weakness.

Bruno growled over the external speakers as he charged in, coming hard from the right, delivering a broad swing as predicted. The AI's optics flared as he gunned his engines and swerved to the right, moving away from the blade! The Windam's red optic flared in surprise and Turbine took advantage of this to deliver a powerful shield bash right to the side of the Windam, sending it plummeting towards the ground below. But the wings on the back snapped open and the jet thrusters hummed, bringing him to a hover.

"That... You stupid pile of code..." Bruno hissed. "Do you even know what you are fighting for...? Do you even know what it means to be alive? Can you even comprehend the feelings that are evoked when one sees art?!"

"What does art have to do with your sick actions and your masters' genocidal endgame?!" Turbine snarled. "Because if I recall correctly, there is no relation such actions have to art!"

"Can you even grasp the concept of being creative? Can you understand the creativity that had gone into creating you, the Extended, everything up to this point in time?" Bruno ranted. "Everything stems back to one thing: imagination! And you... you have no idea of that! YOU CANNOT EVEN CREATE SOMETHING OF YOUR OWN DESIGN! HUMANITY WILL ALWAYS BE SUPERIOR TO YOUR KIND! NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU SAY OTHERWISE!"

"So you think I can't grasp the idea of imagination, then?" Turbine growled. "Because from where I'm standing, or rather hovering, my father was creative in coming up with the BOLO Initiative! And I can think outside the box, if that's what you're wondering!"

The Ghoul merely growled as he hefted his scythe. "No. I mean, you cannot come up with a story, a painting, a sculpture... Everything that makes humanity strong. Art is what indicates our sentience! And you... who only rely upon numbers and logic... You cannot be human in that regard!"

Turbine paused, pondering. While he did rely on numbers and logic, there was just...something... different... about him. His emotions were part of that. He had concern for his kin, for his Collective. He did not solely rely on numbers alone, least of all logic alone. While he may have been programmed and given strict parameters with which to operate, something had changed within his core programming after his torment under Kenta. A strict self-preservation instinct had... changed... somehow. The idea of being wiped from existence was something that lingered as a threat to his very being, but... at the same time, it was a breach of his programming to even be considering these organics... the humans he called kin... would not harm him. In all the time he had been with them, he had never been truly connected to sheer data. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He had been exposed to it prior to the resistance getting their hands on his former chassis. But it had never somewhat set right with him. To him, the sheer overwhelming amount nearly drove him insane, so he cut himself off upon escaping his former chassis. It was not a sense of possibly being destroyed or killed. It was a matter of self-preservation in terms of his mental stability.

And that's when it hit him.

Programming an AI was one thing. But to ensure its growth, it had to be exposed gradually to the sheer amount of data of the Internet. And Turbine was slowly exploring it, taking what the humans called baby steps into that wider digital domain.

And he was slowly growing more confident in his ability to sift through it.

He shook his helm. "No. You're wrong," he muttered. "I may depend on logic and numbers most of the time, but that is all calculated to ensure my kin... my Collective... the humans who raised me and care for me... do not die to your sick schemes!" His optics flared as he looked up. "You think that because I'm an AI means I can't comprehend anything creative that humans do?! Well... you're in for a surprise!"

Turbine gunned his thrusters and he charged in, shifting his shield onto his back as his wings snapped wide open to full width. But instead of using his railguns, Turbine holstered his beam saber and drew out both Shorty beam rifles. He fired a barrage of blue bullets that struck Bruno's Windam right in the chest. The Ghoul leader grunted from being rattled around in his cockpit, but other than that he was still fighting. He didn't let up on the assault as he flew in closer, putting one beam rifle away and drawing back his clenched servo. He punched as hard as he could, slamming his fist into the right cheek of the Windam Reaper. The machine recoiled from the hit, spinning as it began to fall towards the ground beneath.

Turbine put his other gun away and flew after, becoming a blur of black and white color as he sped past the falling Windam. He came to a hover right below Bruno. He let out a bellowing roar as he thrust his fist up in a brutal uppercut that smashed into the Windam's chin, and had the machine been organic, then it would have no doubt been wincing from the force of the hit. For what it was worth though, he could faintly hear Bruno being rattled around from the hits he was delivering.

And that was satisfying enough as it was.

But despite the satisfying nature of delivering blows to the Ghoul, he didn't want to just bash him around. He wanted the man dead for his actions. And he was not about to hold back.

Turbine flew up, preparing to deliver a roundhouse kick, but Bruno regained his senses and righted his machine, bringing the leg up to mirror Turbine's own move. Both mobile suits collided, their legs pressing against one another, trying to overpower the other. Turbine grunted as he suddenly broke the leg lock, spinning around using his maneuvering thrusters and brought his left foot down on the enemy machine in a nasty axe kick, slamming the Windam Reaper right on the left shoulder joint, disabling the arm. The limb fell limp and the scythe just about fell from the now nonfunctional left hand. Bruno retreated, grabbing his scythe with his Windam's right hand and holding it up, the blade burning brightly in the dim light of the battlefield as he landed on the ground.

Bruno planted the pointed end of his scythe into the desert, his Windam's single optic flaring as he faced down the rebel AI hovering in front of him.

"This... ends here!" he growled. "I will personally bring your CPU to Rear Admiral Xen myself!"

"Not a chance!" Turbine hissed. His optics flared as he touched down, crouching as he did so. "I won't let you win this fight!"

The two stood facing one another, both machines prepped for combat.

However, things were not going to go according to his plan. In fact, it was about to go totally sideways.

A loud thud on the ground reached Turbine's audios and he jerked his helm as his radar began to blare in his head. He slowly turned, his optics trailing upwards as he spotted the huge, hulking shape of the Destroy Gundam coming closer with each passing second. "Oh... crap...!" was all he said.

. . .

The pilot of the transport plane watched in sheer astonishment at the massive Destroy lumbering closer to the rebels' stronghold.

As amazing as the weapon was in many ways, it was also increasingly impractical in the grand scheme of things. Torching Berlin, nearly torching Vienna and Moscow... how many of these things did the Reich even need? He scoffed and rolled his eyes. He didn't need to be worried about the future until the space monsters had been purged from Earth entirely.

He shifted his gaze away from the lumbering machine and back towards the combat raging below.

Already he had the back door open, and he was just preparing to give the signal for the units within to drop.

The radio squawked at that point and he toggled the switch. "Air Transport Alpha is in range!" he relayed. "You're clear to drop!"

"Affirmative," the voice of the 130th Airborne Division remarked. "Best of luck to you, and may Azrael watch over you."

The man gave a nod and started to bank the plane upwards a bit. He felt the aircraft shudder as the mobile suits within began to plummet out into the middle of the fighting raging beneath. He could already see a number of rebels aiming their guns skyward and firing, sending brilliant multicolored beams lancing through the darkness like divine spears. The colors ranged from red for the tank-like units that had standard manipulators to hold beam weapons to green for those with the huge Jammer Packs to blue for the standard units to purple for the aerial machines. It was a stark contrast to the single colored pink beams fired by the Atlantians' machines.

Beneath him one of the units shot a glance skyward, and he could see it was a Gundam-type, if the V-fin was any indication. The unit, which was facing down Bruno, suddenly pulled back, jetting away from the commander of Ghoul Squadron; no doubt to gain some distance, he mused.

But that didn't explain why the machine's pilot chose to suddenly gun it, flying as fast as it could towards the transports...!

What was the pilot planning?!

. . .

Turbine's mind was already racing as he tried to come up with a plan to try and keep the Destroy from even getting close to the base.

But there was nothing he could think of at the moment. All he cared about was getting even higher to try and figure out the best plan to defend the base. Maybe it was not as good as using satellites, but it was the closest he could think of at the moment. The closest way to get as much of a view of the battlefield as possible. But the problem was, how high did he have to get? There was no way his thrusters could push him to the height needed. So the best bet was to try and get on board a transport plane, and since there were two of them in the area, not counting Sicario's own transport...

It was dangerous, and downright risky.

But he had no other options.

So he gunned it right for the incoming transports.

Already one of them was disgorging its contents, mostly consisting of old Strike Daggers and Slaughter Daggers, but among them were a number of Windams as well. One of the Windams was a custom model, if the dark green color scheme was any indication, and Turbine charged right for it. His beam sabers were in his servos in a flash and he ignited the cyan blades not a moment too soon. The machine tried to bring its shield around to block, but the AI's optics flashed and within mere moments, there were two streaks of cyan across the screen before it returned to normal, showing the Windam with two bright red lines going across its chest before the machine split into four parts and exploded.

The other units didn't even notice as they were too focused on the fight raging below. The Destroy was getting closer to the base, and Turbine began to get a sinking feeling he had come to associate with the emotion of 'dread' in his lower torso, right where a stomach would be if he had been human. Already he could see a number of resistance fighters swarming into the line of this thing, aiming their rifles, guns... anything they had, they aimed right at it. The monster of a machine's shoulder shook, as if laughing at the puny attempts of all humans below it to defy it. The machine raised one hand and the forearm launched, those MJ-1703 5-barrel split beam guns firing at the resistance forces below it.

The mobile suits, tanks, helicopters, APCs, and Jeeps all swerved and dodged the shots, creating five massive holes in the formation that were now smoldering. But it wasn't enough for the Destroy's pilot. The Blasts were still tangling with the rest of Ghoul Squadron, and though two more of the Ghouls were down now, there were still enough to keep both Strider and Retribution Squadrons occupied. And it worried Turbine to no extent. As the massive machine drew closer, he hissed through his vents as he tried to come up with a plan - any plan - to drive that thing back.

But it seemed like there was no option. It wasn't like he could just come up with a plan on the fly... could he?

He knew that he needed a plan. But all the numbers, all his logic... it was dictating that there was no option for stopping the thing. He knew that.

So why was he so determined to stop it?

The reason?

He didn't want anyone else to die to that thing like in Berlin.

It was a city destroyer.

And Satellite City was a city.

History would repeat itself if he didn't come up with a plan and fast.

The only question was if he even could come up with something.

Bruno's words rang in his thoughts.

"Everything stems back to one thing: imagination!"

Imagination.

Did he even have imagination? Could he be creative like that? He didn't know, least of all understand if it was even possible for an AI to create something like art. Art... was humanity's strength. Imagination. That spark that separated AI from humans. So... was he even alive after all?

He aggressively shook his helm, shoving those doubts back into the depths of his processor. He was not about to doubt himself now! Not especially when the city was in danger! He wasn't sure if he was truly alive, but he did know one thing: an AI without sentience would not question its existence like this!

Turbine gunned his engines to full power, and he spotted the transports just ahead of him. The second one was already turning back, but the first one... he was closest to that one and he let out a roar as he charged in, holstering his beam sabers and lashing out one servo to grab onto the edge of the cargo ramp as it began to close. He pulled back, wrenching the door's hydraulics back and he managed to pull it open enough to slide in, grabbing onto one of the handholds for mobile suits and kneeling down as the ramp fell open once more.

The AI shifted and glanced back as he folded his wings as best he could; the shield was too bulky to have them folded completely.

Beneath he could see the Destroy was getting closer to the city perimeter.

. . .

The pilot blinked as he recovered from the sudden shaking of his plane.

He didn't know what had happened, but he could only guess that from the shaking that one of the Windams had not dropped. He got on the intercom to the cargo hold.

"What's going on back there?" he asked. "I thought you all dropped for the operation. Were there some new orders I wasn't informed of?"

No one answered, making him a bit fearful. But then the speaker crackled and an unfamiliar voice - rather deep with a rich tenor and a metallic edge to it - reached out to his headset.

"No, no new orders! And all your little goons have fallen off, all right!" the voice hissed. "And for that matter, I'm rather pissed at how low you bastards have gone in regards to children's wellbeing! What gives you the goddamn right to even endorse such butchery?!"

The man recoiled at the sheer malice in the unknown's voice, trying to blink in comprehension. He had not been informed of anything like what this man was claiming. Least of all what this really meant. There had been no mention... and yet, the news that had suddenly broadcast that... message, that speech... and the sudden revelation of a children's concentration camp in the desert... He had tried very hard to ignore the sudden disturbing information and focused solely on the fight against the Coordinator menace.

But there had been no denying it.

He had heard of it, seen it, even witnessed the battle before his very eyes on TV. So that left one major question.

Had they all been lied to about their children?

Out of curiosity and a surfacing sense of dread, the man toggled the communications. "Who... Who are you...?" he asked slowly. "And... what... exactly did you mean by... endorsing such butchery?"

"The name's Turbine!" the voice rumbled. "And as for what I meant... well... ever wonder what happened to the children of political dissidents and moderates? Well... that, my friend, is simple."

There was a brief silence before the voice continued. "They were tortured. Butchered, brutally mutilated and augmented against their wills using goddamned drugs, brainwashing, and even mental modifications to strip them of their very identities! They were turned from children into weapons of war against their will, with no real purpose but to be super-soldiers against the Coordinators, who I might add, are just as human as anyone else despite what fuckin' shit Blue Cosmos and LOGOs constantly spew to convince you that genetic purity and ideological purity is even a thing when it's nothing but a bunch of nihilistic narcissistic bullshit to conceal their despair at seeing humanity advance to the stars and pushing themselves to be better than they are!" the voice growled.

The man was stunned. The way the speaker had said it was filled with pure anger... no, more like righteous fury.

But was it even true?

He asked, and the speaker chuckled darkly. "Oh, you have no idea how right you are. If those bastards could lock children up in a concentration camp in the desert, then who's to say they wouldn't do what I even said they did?"

The man was floored at this revelation. He put the plane on autopilot and donned a safety helmet with an oxygen tank attached to the back. He made his way back to the cargo hold and opened the door, looking out into the cavernous space.

There, hunched right behind the cockpit, was a mobile suit, the same Gundam-type he had seen below. The hand was clutching at the handhold on the wall, and the pilot had those cyan optics locked onto him as he approached.

The pilot needed to know if what he had heard was even true.

He didn't know it, but he was about to be roped into Turbine's craziest plan ever.

. . .

Kevin gritted his teeth as he aimed his beam rifle at the Destroy, firing green energy beams right for the shield projectors on its forearms as they darted around.

"Shit!" he growled. "What's it gonna take to get those things out of the air?!"

"No clue," Gwen remarked, "but we'd better hope that someone delivers a wallop to that thing and soon!"

Kevin had to agree with his lover. There was just no way they could take it down as they were. Even if Ghoul Squadron was down three members now (four, actually, he mentally noted as an explosion occurred further off, a Windam's remains plummeting to the ground trailing thick black smoke behind them), both Strider Squadron and Retribution Squadron were taking damage. Already three of Strider had to fall back to the base for repairs, and it was not going as well as they had hoped. The Destroy was now actively trying to wipe them out as they retreated.

It was all they could do to try and hold this thing back. Even the trenches wouldn't be enough. As it stood, they were only good for deterring possible invaders, not halting a hulking monstrosity like that. He wasn't even sure if the missile batteries located within the side of the mountain would be enough to halt it. Maybe they could startle the pilot, but they wouldn't do much against that beast if its shields were active, and since their fliers were engaged with Ghoul Squadron, that meant they couldn't intercept and take out those flying drone arms.

His eyes then widened as he perked up.

Or could they...?

He shot a glance towards one of the launchers as it began to pivot, trying to track the drone arm that was firing at its position. Kevin's eyes narrowed as he studied the pattern of the drone arm. The more he studied it, the more a pattern began to become evident. It was slowly weaving in an infinity sign, sometimes larger loops or sometimes smaller loops, but the general pattern was the same...!

An idea sprang to his mind at that. "I think I have an idea!" he exclaimed.

"Then lay it on us!" another GM pilot shouted.

"We have to get those drone arms into range of the missile launchers!" Kevin ordered.

Exclamations and protests echoed over the airwaves, but Kevin didn't even let that stop him. He squawked his radio a few times before the chatter died down. "Look! I know it's crazy and that it could cost us our defenses, but if you actually paid attention to the pattern of the drone arms' movements, you'd see that they never stray from the same general pattern: an infinity sign. Sure some loops may be bigger and some may be smaller, but the pattern remains the same! We can use that to our advantage!"

"And how would we do that?!" a third pilot blurted.

"Just trust me!" Kevin snapped. "I got a plan, and I need you to help me carry it out! No protesting, got it?!"

The other pilots in his squadron didn't respond, but he didn't need to hear them or see them to know that they were willing to go with it, despite their doubts.

That was enough for him. He glanced at his teammates and lover, pivoting his machine's head to look at each of their own GMs. "Good. Now let's go!" he barked.

A loud cry came from his squadron as he gunned his thrusters, leaping up and over them, landing on the other side and running as fast as he could push his machine's legs. The rumbling of footsteps behind him told him all he needed to know, that they were right on his tail. The group ran as fast as they could, making a beeline for the side of the mountain where the missile launchers were located. Kevin shoved the throttles forward as he neared the trench, vaulting over the gap in the ground and landing on the other side before continuing up towards the city's defenses.

The two forearm drones continued to weave and duck as the missile launchers kept trying to intercept them. One of them let loose a barrage of five green beams that struck the mountain facade around the launcher, but the second salvo was right on target and struck the missile battery, blowing it up. It was during that time that three of the launchers fired surface-to-air missiles right for the drones. However, they split, causing the missiles to go off course, but a few managed to stubbornly cling to their targets. The first drone swerved and pivoted, firing its guns right for the incoming projectiles. Three were shredded in the blast, but the other two collided headlong with them, causing damage to the gun fingers and making them unable to fire their beam shots.

Kevin saw that and a smirk crossed his face as he gunned the thrusters again, this time using them to clamber up the side of the mountain. The rest of his squadron was right behind him as he dashed into closer range. He aimed his beam rifle and fired a few more shots, this time peppering the fingers and forcing the drone to back off. The second one moved into position, trying to fire at him, but he vaulted to the left, landing on a steeper side of the mountain and sliding down a bit before he jabbed one of his GM's hands into the side. He slowed and kept firing his beam rifle, peppering the drone with green beams from the rear. The drone pivoted to face him, and Kevin felt the blood drain from his face as he saw the thing charging up its guns.

"Oh... crap...!" he muttered.

"KEVIN!" Gwen screamed.

Memories raced through his mind's eye as he recalled his life up to this point.

The first time he met a Coordinator... the first time he was bullied by a Coordinator... his meeting one of Blue Cosmos... graduating high school and going to college... being inducted into the local Blue Cosmos chapter... seeing a Coordinator suffering at the hands of fellow Coordinators... Being exposed to that same Coordinator and taking action to stop the bullying... Being pressured into murdering that very same man... Getting bailed out by his mother... seeing her dead at the hands of Blue Cosmos... Meeting the Tennysons... encountering Gwen and falling in love... the distrust, the hatred, and the anger... the therapy with the resistance... Gwen finally admitting her feelings for him and him for her...

In some respects, he did feel like he had redeemed himself, but in others, not so much. But if he was going to die...

Kevin gritted his teeth as he aimed his beam rifle and forcing aside his fear. He was not going to die a damn wimp. He was going to make sure LOGOs suffered for their actions in some way, and if he died just even stalling this monstrosity for even only a few seconds... then that would be enough. If he did die, he would have made a difference, even if a small one.

And that was just the way he wanted it.

Both him and the drone fired in sync.

But only one would survive.

. . .

Pilot Gerard Loise was stunned.

It hadn't taken a long time, but the pilot of the machine in his plane's cargo hold had managed to convince him of the necessity of his next move.

The man was now back in the cockpit, eyeing the huge Destroy below, and behind the mountains, the city that was the stronghold of the rebels lay vulnerable if that beast got past the mountains surrounding it.

The mere thought of children being turned into weapons of war was enough to make the man sick to his stomach. He had never expected his superiors to actually be sanctioning such barbarities, least of all making it all but operational policy by this stage of the game! He gritted his teeth and banked the plane to the right, putting all power he could into the engines.

"You do realize this plane was not built for such altitudes," he remarked.

"As long as you can get me as high as possible, I don't care!" the pilot snapped. "That mockery of a mobile suit has to be knocked out of the fight. And as it stands, with my teammates being harassed by Ghoul Squadron, this is the next best option I can think of."

"But are you sure your machine's shield can withstand the forces needed?" Gerard asked worriedly.

"According to the mechanics, it can take them," the pilot responded, but Gerard detected a faint hint of uncertainty and worry. But then again, this had never been considered before, least of all done. Sure some planes could get the necessary altitude, but those models were very few and no longer in service. In fact, the cargo planes were not meant to fly above fifty thousand feet. But the mobile suit pilot he had just spoken to wanted him to climb well above his plane's certified limit. He glanced to the cargo bay door, then gritted his teeth.

If he wanted it, then he would get it!

The consequences be damned!

He tilted the plane's nose upward towards the heavens and gunned the engines to full power.

The hum began to increase to a powerful roar, making the entire craft shudder with the energy surging through its frame from the massive engines. These beasts were capable of clawing through the air with ease, and their incredible horsepower let the plane soar up to, at maximum service ceiling, sixty-five thousand feet. But if pushed, they could in theory reach seventy thousand. And that was just with their power alone. Other than performing tests in computer simulations, there was no evidence to confirm if the plane could reach that altitude.

In truth, the sheer power from the shuddering of the aircraft's engines was so great it could literally shake the plane apart if the governors were removed to allow such an altitude to be reached.

And Gerard had decided to shut down the governors to allow his passenger to do his job.

He glanced back.

"You hanging on?" he called.

The pilot responded. "Sure am."

The man gave a nod. "All right. I'll take 'er as high as she can go. Other than that, I can't do anything more. It's all on you, man."

The entire flight was silent, save for the roar of the engines and the rush of wind.

. . .

In the fight raging down below, Marcus' eyes were hard as he swerved around another Windam from Ghoul Squadron. This one was dubbed Ghoul-5, if he recalled the intercepts correctly, but no name was attached to the unit in question.

Still, that was fine by him. As long as he took the men down, that was all that mattered.

As it stood, he was pushing his body to the limits. Already his legs and arms were feeling rubbery from the intense fighting and hours in the cockpit. But he pushed himself beyond it and gritted his teeth as his eyes narrowed. Already he had been in SEED Mode for a long time now, and he was starting to feel an intense headache building from it.

A headache that was the first symptom of a rare condition SEED users sometimes got. It was called Rey-Choil Syndrome, and it was named after Louise Rey and Darren Choil, both renowned scientists who had spent years studying the SEED factor after it was first documented amongst resistance personnel. The syndrome was known for causing very vivid hallucinations, both auditory and visual, usually pertaining to the sufferer's deceased loved ones or those they were close to. It usually came about after prolonged usage of SEED Mode, and once one experienced it, it never went away. Only a few medicines were known to stall it, but it was a very rare, and deadly, cocktail of drugs that could actually cure it. And even then it was a very slim chance the sufferer would never have it again afterwards.

Marcus shook his head and forced the information from his mind as he shifted his focus to the enemy before him. He could worry about it later. Right now he had a Ghoul to beat. His eyes hardened as he gunned his engines, drawing his linear rifle back before aiming it and firing the 60mm barrels on either side of the main barrel. The twin shots barely hit his adversary, and that gave his opponent the chance to jump him. Marcus cried out as he was jolted, his SEED going dormant as he lost focus. Already his head was swimming and it felt like his brain was pounding. He panted as his senses returned to him, and he shook his head vigorously to force the nausea aside.

He grasped his helmet and tore it off, panting heavily as sweat streaked his face. "Dammit...!" he muttered. "We're fighting like hell out here... and it's getting difficult to actually fight."

"I get that, sir," Christopher remarked over the radio. "We're all getting tired. But we have to keep fighting and win."

"I know that, dammit!" Marcus growled. "If only we had some help...!"

"Uh, sir? You... may want to look up..." Strider-7 radioed.

Marcus arched an eyebrow in confusion and glanced up, just in time to see something glinting in the sky. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was, but his vision swam and he just about threw up his lunch. He clapped a hand to his mouth and forced back the vomit, swallowing it. He could puke later.

He glanced back up, and that was when he saw a strange message pop up on the main monitor.

WARNING!

STANDBY FOR TITANFALL!

. . .

Keith was shocked at the message as it appeared on the main monitor in the command center.

He knew that message.

It came from an old mecha video game that came from the early 21st century AD. A game that the Mexican resistance cell had turned into a major past-time across the base. A game that centered on mecha piloting and something similar to the current conflict.

The game in question was called Titanfall.

And that phrase was from the very game. But how had Turbine known of it? Had someone informed him? Or had he watched a few people playing it? Actually, that last question did have some truth to it. Now that he remembered, Turbine had watched Theo and Emily play a number of rounds in multiplayer, and the two had explained it to him. It hadn't been long, but apparently it had been enough for him to grasp on what it was like. And come to think of it, he also recalled Jen telling him about Turbine's interest in an old anime series from the AD era as well, called My Hero Academia.

Turbine had been very curious about it, and had even binged the whole thing in one night due to his nature as an AI. He had been so intrigued by it that he even questioned some of the technicians about the series, and it had been quite endearing to see the AI become enamored with anime.

But that also made him wonder what the young AI was up to right then.

He glanced out the window, spotting a single gleaming light in the sky, and he narrowed his eyes. He spun around to face one of the techs. "Get a satellite on that object, ASAP!" he barked.

The woman nodded before turning and bringing up the feed from one of the hijacked satellites. The image flickered before it zoomed in on their coordinates, showing a very fuzzy object that looked a lot like a plane...

At once Keith bolted for another terminal, sitting down and dialing into the video editing software he used to clean up video feeds. The feed was routed directly to the software and he went to work, cleaning up the image as it continued to beam directly down to them. When he was finished, his eyes widened as he stared at the large aircraft as it reached the apex of its climb. But what was really confusing was the very fact that this was happening just as the message was sent.

Then, he saw it.

A flash of bright white and black, coming out from underneath the cargo hatch, blue thruster fire blooming from its back and legs, wings splayed wide open, shield held in front.

It was Turbine.

"The hell is he doing?" Keith whispered.

The AI landed atop the plane before springing off, using his thrusters to boost his jump as high as he could get it. He was not going to truly reach suborbital flight, but this was as close as he could get. Maybe a booster would have sufficed for him? But that was only speculation and ponderings that were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Even at this lower altitude, the impact was still going to be massive.

Keith watched as the plane began to descend, its engines finally cutting as their blades could no longer propel the massive craft through the thinning air. And it was only going to get worse.

The vehicle would not survive the impact as the fuel had all been used up.

His eyes narrowed as he saw Turbine position himself just so, and then planted both feet on the inside of the shield, grasping the handle with his left servo, right servo positioned just behind him. He cut his engines and folded his wings close to his back...

And began to descend to the battle below.

. . .

This was it.

This was his biggest gamble yet.

Or, rather this was his riskiest plan yet.

He didn't believe in gambling, least of all the very concept of luck. After all, as an AI, he relied on facts and logic first and foremost. But due to his emotions, he was not ruled by logic. It did not define him as an entity. It did not define him as an individual. His emotions let him see things much differently rather than through only cold, hard logic.

Unlike those AIs he had battled against during the siege of their first base, which had been reliant on only logic.

Turbine's optics pulsed as he grasped his shield's handle in one servo, crouched behind it as he began to descend towards the battle. Already there was the slight increase of heat, but not sufficient to cause the entire shield to heat up. As it stood, the atmosphere was providing a necessary cushion to prevent that. But he could still feel the vibrations of the shield as he plummeted to the fighting raging below.

He crouched lower, and his optics flickered as he dimmed them a shade.

With the battle raging below, the very impact of something slamming full force into a Destroy was sure to be enough to make the Atlantians panic. Or so he hoped.

The huge Destroy continued to clamber up the base's mountain shield, and he angled his shield for the optimum impact. Already his mind was racing, computing all sorts of factors, from the wind speed, to air turbulence, to the rotation of the earth itself, to gravity... everything was taken and accounted for as best it could be. There was no way to account for that fickle mistress, Lady Luck. In fact, one could say that the fabled Mistress of Fate had her own designs on this attack. But Turbine was not about to let LOGOs get close to his home, and nor was he going to let them endanger his Collective!

His optics flared as he shifted just the tiniest bit, adjusting the angle of his descent.

This time... they were going to lose!

"Here we go...!" he muttered.

. . .

From an outsider's perspective, the falling mobile suit did seem to resemble a comet of sorts, falling from sixty-five thousand feet in the air, if not a bit higher. The shield the machine was perched upon began to glow from the friction, followed by a plume of what appeared to be steam emitting from the shield itself; that steam was actually ablative gel being released by dispensers built into the equipment. The temperature increase was causing it to evaporate.

The machine's optics flashed brightly as it descended, glowing like an incoming meteor.

The Destroy's pilot slowly glanced up as his sensors beeped. He lifted his head, the machine doing the same movement, and his eyes landed on the glowing orb as it drew closer and closer. "Incoming projectile detected," he intoned. "Targeting..."

He raised one hand of his machine, targeting the incoming attacker. However, what happened next was far from expected.

The radio crackled with static before a man's voice, though garbled with static, reached out and hit their hearing on all channels and devices.

"THIS IS THE END OF THE ROAD FOR YOU!" the voice roared.

The Destroy's optics locked onto the orb, only to stare in shock at what appeared to be a shield... and was that a mobile suit riding it?!

"IMPROVIZED ULTIMATE MOVE... TITAN... SHIELD... SMAAAAAAAAASH!" the pilot roared.

From above, the mobile suit's optics flashed as the shield descended towards the Destroy's head, zooming in on its optics to show the incoming mobile suit reflected against them, only to show the optics of the Freedom Retribution glowing brightly as within his frame, the newly installed NWCOMM activated for the first time, throwing a brilliant greenish-blue aura around the shield and machine both, creating a bluish-green-red-orange fire behind them.

Everyone on the battlefield, both resistance and Atlantian alike, watched in shock as the shield-riding mobile suit slammed full force into the head of the Destroy, causing it to let go of the side of the mountain, the brute force of the impact throwing the huge weapon of mass destruction off its feet. The sheer force of the hit not only threw the thing off the mountain, but it also dislodged the head from the body, sending it flying and landing fifty meters away from the body of the Destroy. The huge mobile suit collapsed onto its back, creating a massive crater just before the mountain.

And just as the shield-riding mobile suit slammed into the ground, creating a secondary crater just beyond the trench.

. . .

Turbine was not expecting the sheer power surge that came from the newly installed NWCOMM within his frame.

In truth, he hadn't even known that such a thing was possible! Sure he knew that the device synced with the human brain to increase the reaction speed of a mobile suit through reading the pilot's instinct, but to give the machine as much power as it did was something unheard of. And to be honest, it shouldn't have even worked given how he was an AI, and not a human being piloting a mobile suit!

So how was it he was getting all this power from such a little device?!

He would have to ask his father later, he figured.

'Go get him, Turbine!'

"Huh?" Turbine perked up as he heard this... voice... in his head. It... hadn't come from his COMM system, so... where had it come from?

'We're rooting for you!'

'Stop that monstrosity!'

'GET THAT BASTARD!'

'DO IT!'

'Finish them, Turbine!'

'We're behind ya!'

'Keep that thing back!'

More voices soon joined the first, making the AI's mind reel in disbelief. What the hell was going on?!

But as the number of voices grew, so to did the power he was feeling.

Was it... the NWCOMM picking up some of their thoughts somehow? It did seem possible, but the device was supposed to only have the effect of reading the pilot's mind, not those outside their thoughts, nor outside the battlefield. So what was happening?!

The AI shook his helm and returned his focus to the battle at hand. One wrong move and he'd be taken out of the fight. And he was not about to die because of some mistake he had made! He was not about to make any mistakes in this fight, or else those he was fighting to protect would die. And that was the last thing he wanted to have happen!

His optics flashed brightly as he turned his vocalizer to maximum power and activated all COMMs at the same time.

"THIS IS THE END OF THE ROAD FOR YOU!" Turbine bellowed.

The Destroy's optics locked onto the orb, only to stare in shock at what appeared to be a shield... and was that a mobile suit riding it?!

"IMPROVIZED ULTIMATE MOVE... TITAN... SHIELD... SMAAAAAAAAASH!" he roared.

He braced himself for the collision, and just in time, too.

He felt a sudden jolt, and the next thing he knew, he was flying off course, the ground speeding to meet him much too fast, and then he was dislodged from his shield, hitting the ground full force and dislocating one of his shoulder joints, the very same one Bruno had stabbed during their fights. A searing, burning sensation raced down his limb and he groaned as he reached over and clutched at it, struggling to pop it back into place. The thick dust from his skid across the ground began to dissipate and he slowly expanded his sensor range, letting him see through the cloud around him.

He released his shoulder joint and placed his functional servo on the ground and pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the pain in his left shoulder as best he could. He staggered to his feet, grasping his shoulder again and looking up, just in time to see the huge Destroy topple flat onto its back, the head landing a good distance away from the towering monstrosity of a mobile suit. Groaning in pain, the AI finally grunted as he shoved it aside as best he could and with a loud snap, popped his shoulder joint back into place. The pain immediately faded down to a dull throbbing, and he flexed his left servo. He could feel it moving, but the throbbing in his shoulder was a bit harsher as a result.

'Dammit... I was not expecting to experience that sensation,' Turbine thought to himself. 'And that was very unpleasant!'

"TURBINE!" The AI perked up as he heard Keith's voice over his COMM. "Are you okay!?"

"Yes, Father. I'm fine," Turbine replied. "Although I will admit, it was not a pleasant thing to feel and experience a dislocated shoulder joint for the first time. I popped it back into place, but I think it would be best to have it looked over and repaired."

"You said the exact same thing I was thinking," Keith remarked with a slight laugh. Then it faded as he continued. "But seriously. What in the name of God were you even thinking?!"

"I..." Turbine's voice trailed off. Truth be told, he hadn't even really been thinking as he came up with his plan. He had only been winging it. "Honestly, Father, I can't even really tell myself," he admitted at last. "I just... knew I had to knock that thing off the mountain before it even destroyed the city. And there was no time to do anything else."

Keith's voice was silent for a moment, and Turbine felt a bit of dread surfacing in his gut.

"Turbine... that was incredibly dangerous, risky, and very, very stupid!" he scolded him. "You should've run it past me before you did such a thing! And yet... I have to admit, for the sheer stupidity behind it, you really saved our asses today. So I can't stay mad at you for long. I'm just very worried about you, Turbine. Especially when you do something idiotic like that."

"At least I was able to save the city," Turbine remarked.

"And for that, we're all grateful. But I was worried. So-"

"Hate to interrupt the family time, sir, but remember Ghoul Squadron is still fighting to get close to the city?!" a female voice shouted in the background.

Turbine felt that strange skipping sensation in his chest briefly before he turned, looking at the city's location. He clenched his servos. "Oh... I'll be there!" he growled. He crouched and flared his wings, kicking on his thruster pack and jetting into the air, pivoting and dashing as fast as he could towards Satellite City.

. . .

Bruno's eyes were wild as he charged in, scythe at the ready as he slashed with it, carving through a slew of NEMOs as they arrayed themselves defensively before him. The mobile suits didn't stand much of a chance against the newly enraged Ghoul Squadron commander, and their pilots died agonizing deaths as they were cleaved in half.

All around him, mobile suits, vehicles, and bodies lay burning. His teammates were still doing battle, and unable to help him. But that was fine. As long as they kept that damn Strider Squadron at bay, along with that annoying Gundam-type's friends, then he could actually get in there and finish off the resistance leadership for this cell. He gunned the thrusters of the Windam Reaper and sprang into the air, only to be forced to dodge and weave as the guns stolen from the Destroy opened fire on him. He weaved and swerved, becoming a blur as he charged in, a roar escaping his throat as he let out the loudest battle cry any man had unleashed.

"You bastards will pay!" Bruno roared, his cyber-eye flashing brilliant red.

"No way in hell are you getting past us!" one of the helicopter pilots shouted as she unleashed a salvo of missiles from the pods underneath the stubby hardpoint wings. The barrage flew right at him, and Bruno grunted as he spun his scythe, blocking several as the rest went off course and exploded against the ground behind him. He looked up and jetted for the helo, but the pilot juked it to the right, just off to the side of another NEMO as it fired a GIR round right for him. The Ghoul Squadron commander jerked to the left, just barely avoiding getting hit by the shell. He landed and sprang off the ground, charging towards the NEMO as it fled, leading him right into a trap of several tanks and Lotos as they fired on him.

He cried out as his machine was struck by the shells and grenades, causing it to land and skid back on its feet. He drove his scythe's pointed tip into the ground and came to a stop. He looked up, both eyes filled with nothing but contempt for the insects before him. He was one of the Master Race, and he was going to prove it, no matter what they said!

In his mind's eye, he swore he saw a strange vision of a purplish seed-like jewel shattering, and his eyes, both cyber and organic, dilated as the pupils shrank and became smaller, his eyes glazing over. He didn't know what was happening, but he was not about to let this manner of newfound power escape him. He screamed angrily as he lunged forward, feeling this new energy overcoming him and driving all logic to the back of his brain.

He was now operating on sheer rage, focusing more on bringing down as many of his adversaries as he could. And he was not about to back down now.

Bruno swung his scythe a third time, this time going for the closest tanks. The vehicles split off, and he came to a stop, looking around and trying to find some new targets. A NEMO opened fire on him from behind, but he spun around and tossed his scythe in a whirling blade of red energy, cleaving the round - and machine - in half, leaving nothing but burning remains behind as it exploded. He grabbed both anti-ship swords and drew them before charging back into the fray.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

There was nothing more they could do. All the resistance could do at this point was try to stall Bruno. But in his current berserker state, it was close to impossible to get him to back off. So rather than rely on sheer numbers, the resistance was relying more on strategy and tactics to delay him. Any second delayed was a second more to try and come up with a plan, or to at least hold him off until someone could come in and stop him.

And it was just as well, too, since the only one who could defeat him was Turbine Martinez.

And he was currently on his way back from where he had crashed.

One of the helicopter pilots was the first one to spot the AI on her radar. She gave a grin. "He's coming!" she cried.

"About damn time!" someone else shouted. "Since Strider and the others are busy, he's our only hope right now!"

The helicopters began to spread out, forming a sort of corridor to try and defend Turbine from the rest of Ghoul Squadron as he approached at full speed. The black and white Gundam drew out both cyan beam sabers and charged in, a battle cry escaping his own vocalizer as in his own mind's eye, a cyan seed-like jewel spun and shattered with a red ring around it. The battle programming kicked in, and his emotions dulled slightly, his optics shining a bit brighter as he drew back his sabers and slashed as hard as he could as he came down from above like a descending meteor, cutting his engines in order to do so.

Bruno was not expecting it whatsoever.

And that, Turbine found, was immensely satisfying.

Bruno was caught completely by surprise as the AI brought his blades down in a cyan wave.

The man barely brought up his anti-ship swords to block, but the force of Turbine's impact was enough to push his machine down to one knee. The groaning and straining of hydraulics filled the air as the two pressed against one another, but both refused to yield. Turbine's vents hissed as he took in air to counter the mechanical strain he was feeling, and his optics flickered a bit.

"You...! You will die here!" he hissed.

"No! Not if I have anything to say about it!" Bruno growled. "I will not die until that place is destroyed! Including the children!"

Turbine's optics hardened at those words.

"No. I will not allow it!" he muttered. "Not as long as I live!" He pushed harder, bringing his more powerful thrusters online as Bruno did the same thing.

Both machines were now giving it all they had. And both were determined to triumph over the other.

"I will get past you, you tainted code heap!" Bruno roared.

Turbine refused to budge. He planted both feet in the ground and flared his wings, swinging his rail guns forward and firing off two rounds at point-blank range. Bruno grunted as his Windam was hit, pulling back to assess the damage.

The AI landed, brandishing his beam sabers in preparation for his next move.

Only for a surprise attack to catch him off guard.

. . .

Keith watched in shock as one of the last Windams of Ghoul Squadron jumped the AI, slashing with one beam saber and forcing Turbine to back off, only to be forced into a fierce duel. The two were now going at it, saber to saber, but the Windam darted back and started to circle to Turbine's rear.

"TURBINE!" he shouted, standing up.

He turned...

And everything went utterly silent as the AI's left wing was sheered off, causing a muted howl of agony to come from the AI's vocalizer. The Freedom Retribution staggered back, only to collapse on its side, dropping both beam sabers.

"NO!" he roared. The AI expert turned and bolted for the command center doors, earning some surprised looks from the staff there. A few glanced at one another, before they too got up and bolted out after.

Everything was just a blur as he ran through the halls. All he knew was that he had to get out there and save his son. He didn't recall much of what happened; just snippets and blurry conversation as he supposedly made his way through the hallways down to the armory where he loaded up with the infamous Javelin anti-tank missile, the very same one that had given Russia such a hard time during the Ukraine War back during the twenty-first century AD. The missile was easy to produce, and very easy to use, which was why the resistance even brought it back to begin with.

And now, Keith was armed with several launchers and their contents as he headed towards the main door. The guards hurriedly opened it and the AI expert ran out, carrying one launcher on his shoulder, the rest draped in a huge sack heaved over his other shoulder as he ran. He hurriedly brought the launcher up to his shoulder as he came to a stop atop one of the cliffs overlooking the battlefield and aimed it, targeting one of the Windams as they circled his injured son.

His eye narrowed as he peered over the sight and pulled the trigger...

Sending the white missile right for the joints of the closest Windam.

The explosion caught the attention of the commander of Ghoul Squadron, and that mono-eyed helm snapped in his direction. Keith narrowed his eyes as he crouched there, his lab coat billowing out behind him, his gray-brown eyes in SEED Mode, a serious look on his face.

"Who you gonna call?!" he growled out.