The fear inside the capsule was so thick, so palpable, that Vice Commander Wera Wozniak could practically taste it. The men and women around her were the sum total of the survivors of the Sagittarius. Their Laurasia class ship had tried to plug the gap torn in the battle lines, but had been swiftly and savagely destroyed.
They'd scarcely given the order to abandon ship, when entire sections had began breaking off. If hell was real, running through the shaking, shuddering, and darkened halls of the Sagittarius as it ripped itself apart was as close as Wera ever wanted to get. Thrown to the ground as red emergency lights strobed and alarms blared had been deafening and disorienting, but not so much that Wera hadn't heard the screams.
Pleas for help, cries of pain, or just wails of torment like tortured souls from Dante's Inferno. She'd had to abandon them, known that there was nothing she could do for them, but all the same, she had been a ranking officer. She tried to tell herself that she was only following her captain's orders, but the terror that had gripped her would have made her flee regardless. She'd never feared death more than in those harrowing moments.
Wera swallowed heavily, trying to make her uniform appear as proper and dignified as possible. They were prisoners of war, and had been told in no uncertain terms that if they produced weapons when they unsealed the capsule, they'd kill everyone present. Fixing her hair, since she had lost her cap in the mad dash to escape the Sagittarius, she prepared to present herself as much a proper officer of ZAFT as possible.
With a hiss of pressure equalizing, Wera assumed a position in front of the air lock, straightening her green hair as best she could, with a final adjustment.
Blinding white light made her squint against it assaulted her, as the door opened. Resisting the urge to move, or raise her hands in any way that could be deemed a hostile act. Commands issued from a loudspeaker ordered Wera and her shipmates to exit the pod with their hands raised above their head in a single file line.
Follwing this order, Wera was the first off, blinking and willing her eyes to adjust as she recognized the flood lights set up in order to blind them as they exited the pod, in case any of them had gotten the idea to try and storm the ship. Marines armed with rifles tracking their movements, ready at a moment's notice to open fire waited for them in the hangar outside their refuge.
The hangar was small, barely large enough for the two Windams within, and their escape craft. A catwalk ran the periphery of the hangar with several ladders and staircases leading up and down. She recognized munitions lockers, and parts storage, but although it all seemed compact and made use of the space well, it still felt claustrophobic. What caused a hard, cold pit of fear to form in Wera's stomach though, were the patches and uniforms of their captors. Atlantic Federation.
They were a hotbed of anti-coordinator sentiment, and a stronghold of the Blue Cosmos terrorist group. Also notorious for the WMD's they levied in the last war, and this one. In addition to a reputation for committing war crimes, and executing POWs.
Doing her best to keep her emotions in check, Wera halted when she was told to, hands behind her head, expecting a bullet to take her life at any moment.
"Kneel!" came the command, and Wera sank to her knees and closed her eyes. Expecting a bullet at any moment.
"Officer on deck!" came a shout and Wera heard the whoosh of a door opening and closing.
"Up, on your feet," came the gruff command and Wera stood as strong hands on either side of her lifted her to her feet.
She saw a blond man with the rank of commander on his shoulders approach her, flanked by a pair of marines, while the officer himself carried a pistol on his hip. Shiny black brimmed and white officer's hat perched on his head, cutting the ideal image of an Atlantic Federation Officer.
Taking a chance, Wera snapped a careful salute, trying to strike a dignified posture as possible.
"I am Vice Commander Wozniak of the Sagittarius, and as the ranking officer remaining from the vessel, I hereby offer our formal surrender, and ask for all rights and protections due as prisoners of war under the treaty of Cairo." Whatever Wera had expected, it wasn't what came next.
"Well now, I wasn't told that ZAFT picked their officers for their prowess, and beauty," said the Atlantic Federation Commander smoothly, a boyish grin on his face.
"I...uh," stammered Wera, at a loss for words.
"Where are my manners, my name is Commander David Halberton of the Honour. You can call me David though, in fact I'd prefer it if you did," said the officer opposite her. Then he was beside her, arm wrapped around her waist.
"This is...I...we were discussing the terms of our surrender," sputtered Wera, as this Commander Halberton began gently guiding her along without seemingly a care in the world. Completely at ease as thought they were on a date and not enemy combatants who had only very recently just tried to kill each other.
"And we still are, but I find that the best discussions are done over dinner. We don't have the best choice of meals being deployed underway, but I'm sure we can make something more than suitable. Do you drink at all? We have spirits aboard if you want something a little harder to calm your nerves, I can only imagine what you've been through. Don't worry about a thing, we're done fighting each other and on my ship you don't have to worry about the safety of yourself or your crew. Hot food, hot showers, and clean sheets for yourself and crew. On my Honour," added Halberton, smiling at his own joke.
"Is there something a little more informal I can call you? Between officers, I think we can dispense with some of this no sir, yes sir stuffiness the old heads are so keen on. Vice Commander Wozniak just doesn't roll off the tongue nicely for casual conversation."
"Wera," answered Wera, mind still racing with the absurdity of the situation.
"Wera. I think that's much nicer to say," said Halberton jovially, and looking around, Wera saw the looks on the rest of the Atlantic Federation sailors faces either betrayed wry amusement, or seemed resigned to their Commander's antics.
"W-we also need to discuss allocation for quarters and privacy of my crew," added Wera.
"The Honour isn't the largest ship in the fleet, so privacy is at a premium I'm afraid. I can offer that the female members of your crew are guarded and cared for by the female members of mine, and ensure that any medical needs are promptly taken care of. After what you've all been through, I'll be sure that everyone is thoroughly looked over by my medical staff and given any treatment they need. I'd imagine once the adrenaline wears off, people are going to notice more injuries than they thought they had. Would you feel better being present and kept in the loop as to the health of your crew?"
This part lacked any boyish charm, and instead Wera could feel the sincerity of Commander Halberton. How he genuinely seemed concerned for both her, and her crew's well being.
"I would appreciate that, thank you for being so accommodating. I...hadn't expected such gracious treatment," said Wera, immediately tensing as she realized that she may have just insulted the man.
"Gracious? I'm just making sure that everyone's happy and healthy. It's a nasty business we have to do, and I like to get that part out of the way as quickly as possible. I know there's a lot of bad blood on both sides, but I'm only concerned with getting all of my people, and as many of yours to the other side in one piece as possible."
"That eases my mind considerably Commander. Thank you."
"Please, call me David, and it's no trouble at all. Now, as you're the ranking ZAFT officer, I want to offer you better accommodations, but like I said, space is rather at a premium here. If you would be amenable to it, I could offer you my quarters if you'd like."
"I...uh," said Wera unsure how to respond. Though over the course of their meal and discussion as to the terms of their surrender, she had found David more than accommodating in anything that related to the health and well-being of her crew. He was rather charming, and for a natural, quite bright. He was easygoing, and good natured, while staying firm on any conditions that affected ship security. Maybe it was the chardonnay they shared, but he wasn't too hard on the eyes either.
Xxx
"This is where we part ways, I wish you well on your journey," said the man who had simply introduced himself as 'Tom' to Kira and his friends. He was the leader of the team who had come to their aid during the coordinator attack at the mansion, and if not for his help, it was likely that they all would have died in the ensuing firefight.
He had short cut hair, was well muscled, and had the demeanour of a professional killer. He felt like a spring, ready to move to action at a moment's notice, and always appeared to be hyper alert. Like he expected a threat to appear from somewhere at any moment.
The rest of his men were much the same, professionals through and through, though they were all dressed much more casually. Lacking the heavy armour and weapons they had carried that day. Or least visible weapons. He was sure they were carrying some sort of armament, or else had other members close at hand who did.
"Thank you very much for all you've done for us, I wish there was more we could do to repay you for your kindness," said Lacus, bowing her head politely. Eliciting the ghost of a smile from Tom. The songstress had managed to woo even the iciest of their mysterious allies, many of whom had said nothing the entire time they had travelled together, being sure to bid farewell to the pink haired idol. The most stoic and stony veneers crumbling in the face of her unfaltering kindness.
"Just doing my job, Lady Lacus," said Tom, voice losing its hard edge of discipline, if only for an instant.
"I'm glad we could meet, and that everyone who came to our aid managed to escape safely with us. If the future permits it, I would like to meet you and your companions under more peaceful circumstances. I'd love to cook you all a meal and share it together."
"I think we'd all enjoy that Lady Lacus, but I doubt that future will come to pass," said Tom, sounding forlorn at the fact.
"Then all we can do is hope," offered Lacus.
"As much as I have grown to enjoy the company of you both, and I do mean that sincerely, I feel that before my team and I leave, we would like to see the two of you board the Archangel," said Tom, switching back to a cold professional in an instant. "We can't guarantee that threats to the both of you aren't still near. Just because we eradicated the first team, doesn't mean they'll have given up on liquidating the both of you. For someone to commit those kind of resources, and to be so overt about it, they very much want you dead. You specifically Lady Lacus."
"Yes, it would seem so. I'm sorry for the danger that I've placed everyone in. It seems that the past never truly abandons us," said Lacus forlornly. "I had thought that by giving up my position and abandoning public life in the PLANTs, that it would help to heal the discontent of the last war. That I would not appear threatening to the new leadership or cause strife among those who saw my actions as betrayal. It seems that I was wrong."
"With your name and following, you'll always be a threat to somebody, Lady Lacus," said Tom simply. "You hold a great deal of soft power that could be flexed at any time. You're beloved in the PLANTs, and lauded by antiwar factions in the Earth Sphere. Your words or support could sway a large number of people. If you can't be controlled."
"Then she'll be killed," said Kira, face darkening at the prospect. "I won't let that happen," he added, a savage vehemence in his voice usually absent from the passive man.
"That's good, because I doubt we'll be able to help you next time," said Tom. "You're Lady Lacus' hard power Kira. When words fail, which they have, it'll be up to you to act. I have to be honest with you too. I respect the strength of your conviction in your principles, since I believe if you're going to have them you had better believe in them. That being said, you're going to need to shoot to kill next time someone comes after you."
"I'll fight to keep Lacus and the Archangel safe, but I'm done killing and taking lives," said Kira, features darkening. "Taking lives...it doesn't do anything but continue a cycle of hate and retaliation. That's all I saw in the last war, and what's caused this one to start. If the cycle is going to end, someone has to break it."
"High ideals, but did you know we stopped a sniper team targeting Lady Lacus the other day?"
"No, I didn't," said Kira, concern on his face and quickly looking to Lacus, as if to confirm that she was still okay.
"They were from the same unit as the one that attacked you in your home that night. Some of the same ones who made it to their mobilesuits, and then made it out of them before they detonated them. You spared them, and in return they tried to kill your fiancee again. So, to keep Lady Lacus and yourself safe, we killed them."
"So you're saying that mercy is only going to get me and Lacus killed?" accused Kira.
"It very well could be, an enemy six feet under isn't likely to put a bullet in your back," said Tom.
"But then where does it end? When there's nobody left who can threaten me and Lacus?" demanded Kira.
"I'm not trying to get into a philosophical debate with you here," said Tom. "What I'm telling you, is that there are people who will not stop until they are dead, and if you're not willing to pull the trigger, they're going to try again. They only need to get lucky once. You need to decide how much you're willing to lose, and who you're willing to lose if you keep fighting the way you do. I'm not saying you aren't incredibly skilled, you are. But can you say you've never made a mistake? Never been a fraction too slow?"
Memories of Flay being consumed in an explosion as he failed to protect her from the Providence, and the insane clone, Rau Le Creuset flashed through Kira's mind. The despair and loss he'd felt, the disgust with his own inability to protect her welling up inside of him. Threatening to spill over as he relived the loss.
"I'm not saying end the entire bloodline of anyone who you cross in the Freedom, but I am saying that you're not perfect and people will take advantage of your hesitance to kill. Every time you let your enemy live, you're taking a chance. Personally, I don't take chances."
"Thank you for your concern, but I've taken chances with people who I called an enemy in the last war. Many of them have become good friends. They came to my aid and stopped GENESIS, stopped Blue Cosmos, and helped protect Lacus then, and to this day," said Kira, finding he couldn't help but look at Commander Waltfeld. If I had killed everyone I had faced, I don't think we would have had the strength to win in the last war. If left with no other option I'll do what I need to, to keep Lacus safe. I won't kill needlessly, but don't think that means I'm unable to."
"Like I said, I'm not here to debate with you, just let you know it's always a risk," said Tom with a sigh.
"Regardless of our differences, I am truly grateful, for all that you've done," said Kira, extending his hand. Tom taking, and shaking his hand.
"I wish you well and safe travels, until, or if we meet again," said Kira.
"The Emperor protects," answered Tom.
xxx
"Oh, I hate the desert! I really, really do! It's hot and sandy, and stinks like camel poo!" sang Selena, drumming her hands on top of the crew hatch in time to her impromptu song.
The body vest she'd been given to counteract the heat of the desert, and the oven that the Two for Flinching turned into under the blazing sun sent whispers of frosty vapour into the parched air around her. She wasn't drenched in sweat though, it was too hot for that. It all evaporated, so once you acclimatized to it, it actually didn't seem atrociously hot. Until you were a heat casualty with an IV of fluids hooked into you that is. Word from up top was to drink at least a minimum of two gallons a day, and to Selena that went down easier than a fat kid tripping on the temple steps.
"As much as I enjoy your singing, can you keep it to a minimum so that it's a treat that we only have for special occasions? Since I enjoy it sooo much," came the somewhat muffled voice from within the Two for Flinching.
"Well, I'm bored, and have been for the last week. Why don't you join me up here and keep me company?"
"You mean besides the fact that I'll burst into flames?" answered the ginger Cadian wryly. Alabaster pale skin shining like a beacon within the gloomy armoured interior of their tank destroyer. Her body vest set to maximum, and frost starting to form icy fingers atop the vest.
"Alright Nosferatu, I'll leave you be. I forgot we have to wait for the sun to go down so you can come out and feast on virgin blood. It's a port city though, so good luck finding any. Hopefully your little flappy bat wings can take you far enough to find some."
"You know, you talk a big game for being a virgin Selena," countered Rachael.
"I am a holy and pure maiden saving herself for marriage," said Selena in mock offence, putting a hand to her breast. "What kind of sacrilegious accusations are you trying to make Rachael!? You truly are a beast of the night, aren't you?"
"You sure it's not because you lose your nerve anytime someone actually makes a move on you, and you act like a preachers daughter?" came the muffled counter.
"First of all, if I was the preachers daughter, I'd be a slut. Remember Peggy?"
"Communal Pew Peggy?"
"Because nobody gets turned away," answered Selena, letting out a chortle of laughter, with Rachael doing the same.
"Secondly, I do not lose my nerve."
"Yes you do. Remember that kasrkin that you teased, asking if he could make you call him daddy? Then he said that he wasn't sure, but he could definitely make you a mommy. Remember that? Remember how your face turned beet red and you just turned on your heel and walked away?"
"W-well," stammered Selena, clearing her throat awkwardly. "I can't be expected to remember every encounter, now can I?"
"Or that time you asked that cavalry trooper how many miles you could ride him for? And then he said he'd broken tougher mounts? That he'd make sure to keep the spurs on? Remember that? How you ducked inside the tank and didn't say anything for like half an hour?"
"Spurs are dangerous Rachael," said Selena primly. "Isn't that right Lisa?" asked Selena, turning to their driver, sunbathing on a towel atop the sandy ground.
"Sure," said the youngest Cadian, only half paying attention.
"See, Lisa agrees with me."
"That's only because you outrank her," countered Rachael.
"Is that true trooper? You're only agreeing with me, because I hold rank? Who told you that you had permission to get out of the fucking tank, huh?!" barked Selena, adopting a more commanding tone. Instead of responding, Lisa made a rude gesture with her hand, declining to even raise her head from the towel.
"Aww, baby's learning," cooed Selena, a grin splitting her face. "Hey Rachael, hand me a water bottle," said Selena, reaching down into the tank.
"Hey Lisa!" called Selena, waiting for the woman to look up, before throwing the water bottle like a missile, drilling her right in the ribs and making the tanker let out a yelp of pain. "Stay hydrated," added Selena, receiving a scathing look from Lisa.
"I care about you," cooed Selena in a sickly sweet voice, drawing out the phrase for an inordinately long time.
"You're a gakking menace when you're bored," came the rebuke from inside their shared armoured coffin.
"Well then little miss vampire, how about you entertain me? Or are you busy sharpening your fangs, and floating through wind-OW!" yelped Selena, nearly jumping out of the hatch.
"Did you just fucking bite me?" laughed Selena, incredulously.
"Maybe I was hungry?" offered Rachael, retreating further into the tank, and out of range of a half-hearted kick.
"Then eat some of those tooth chipping bricks they call biscuits like the rest of us. If I have to institute a no biting rule in the tank, it's going to raise some serious questions with the other units."
"Maybe they're already thralls and under my power?" offered Rachael.
"So you're saying that since you bit me, I'm going to stop working out and just read books all day as part of your dark and ginger bloodline?"
"Pale and ginger. Also, you'd have to learn to read first," quipped Rachael.
"Always knew you were a biter in the sack, and fuck off and away from my legs you little ankle biter," cursed Selena, lifting herself out of the hatch and away from her gunner.
"Roger! Rachael's being mean to me!" whined Selena, holding herself above her tank on the palms of her hands as their regimental commissar approached, Captain Baker hot on his heels.
"Well, do you deserve it?" asked the Commissar, cracking a smile.
Selena had served as his aide in their previous campaign, and the two of them had a friendly relationship, which allowed her much more leeway than one would normally expect from a commissar. It helped immensely that Roger was very mild mannered, and Selena had made an outstanding impression when they had fought side by side.
"Maybe," pouted Selena.
"I have a job for you," said Roger, and in a flash Selena had hopped down from her tank, and was standing a respectful distance away, coming to attention.
"Ready, Sir," said Selena obediently.
"We have a meeting between some of our engineering officers, local officials, and EA officers for the repair work ongoing in the region. We have an unfortunate lack of interpreters at the moment. You and your crew received specialized training as part of your embassy posting, did you not?"
"Yes Sir, my crew and I were instructed and reached proficiency in the most common spoken language on the planet. We're all fluent, Sir."
"Excellent. Grab a personal weapon, and whatever you think you need, it's going to be a long day. Will your crew be able to adapt in your absence?" asked Roger, the commissar casting a gaze onto Lisa, who looked as though she wished she could bury herself in the sand. Looking rather pale, despite the tan she had been working on.
"Yes sir, I gave the order to go down to 33% manning since there have been no reported threats in our AO. Gun is charged and ready to flash regardless though, sir."
"Good, you have two minutes to be ready," said Roger.
"Understood Commissar," said Selena, clicking her heels as best she could, before clambering back up onto her tank destroyer, and hopping inside, quickly stripping her body vest away to secure her flak armour, trading away comfort for protection. Instantly becoming more miserable the second the vest was removed, especially in the suffocating heat of the armoured vehicle. Rachael prepping her las carbine, and giving it to her, along with both a fresh two, and one quart canteen that fit neatly into her combat webbing.
"And your soft top," said Rachael, handing over a desert tan wide brimmed hat, along with a pair of dark wraparound sun glasses.
"Thank you, this crate is yours until I get back. You know the drill, keep an eye on the radio and auspex. And make sure Lisa doesn't burn her little ta tas, eh?"
"And bully her?" inquired Lisa, snapping up Selena's discarded body vest, and using it as a cooling seat cushion.
"Of course," said Selena, grinning. "But only a little. After all, she knows where we sleep. Do make sure she puts on sunscreen though. We're all adults, but you're the adultier adult here, and I don't want to have her on sick call, because she wanted a nice tan and got a little too crispy."
"Snacks and packs," said Rachael simply, stuffing a few protein bars into Selena's webbing pouches along with a few more spare power packs for the carbine.
"Thanks mom," said Selena, now kitted out and clambering out of the tank.
"Bring me back some grand babies," Said Rachael.
"Okay, I'll be sure to steal some," said Selena glibly.
The staff car was enclosed, but mercifully a local civilian model, which meant that first and foremost it was built for comfort. That meant that it was climate controlled, and though it meant she was very comfortable now, it meant that as soon as she exited the vehicle, she'd go through the whole process of being hot and miserable again.
As to her task, it should be an easy one, walk around, translate, smile, and be on the lookout for local insurgent groups. They'd be armed with small arms and man portable weapons systems. Locals who were upset at EA forces forcibly inserting themselves into the region to contest ZAFT forces and control the canal to the north that helped facilitate maritime traffic on the planet. Selena was incredibly confused why they were playing PDF relief force with the locals, and not simply subduing the planet, but that was above her pay grade. To be honest, she was glad that she and her girls weren't having to fight more of these mobilesuits. Combat meant losses, and she was tired of having them.
They arrived at city hall without trouble, after painfully crawling through traffic and stopping at numerous checkpoints. EA forces apparently thinking camouflage was unnecessary, since their combat dress appeared to be white as well. Could have been their military police units she supposed, not that it made overly much difference.
The beginning was a standard affair for any briefing Selena had been to before. Slideshows and projectors showing what damage remained, what infrastructure needed fixed first, and seeing what resources could be allocated and who would be best equipped to deal with the problem. Selena stuck close to the engineering officer she had been assigned to. A bald man man looking to be entering his forties, whose only distinguishing feature was an absolutely magnificent moustache that twitched anytime he did something other than frown. He also seemed to be a rather heavy smoker, judging by the engraved lighter he carried and fidgeted with constantly. The frequency of which increased the longer the meeting dragged on, until it seemed he was trying to polish his lighter to a mirror shine, and that his moustache was going to twitch right off of his lip.
Selena more than once realized that she'd been becoming too bored by the proceedings, and stopped translating for the officer, finding herself instead more amused by the rapidly twitching moustache.
"Are they saying anything of note?" asked the Colonel irritably, but quietly, during one particularly drawn out segment.
"No," said Selena without thinking, before respectfully adding, "sir."
"If they keep asking what they imagine our future partnership is going to look like, I'm going to start imagining what the barrel of my las pistol tastes like," grumbled the Colonel.
"Mine tastes like no more dumb meetings if you want to make a suicide pact," said Selena. An instant later a sick feeling of dread washing over her, as she realized that the crass joke the Colonel had made caused her to make one in kind like she was bantering with Rachael. Stepping far outside of her bounds as a simple sergeant.
The fear dissipated when the Colonel abruptly leaned forwards, like he was resting his chin on his hands, but doing so to hide his chuckles, chest shaking as he struggled to contain himself. Relaxing a little, Selena continued translating, until they called for a short break. Just as Selena had thought, as soon as they did, the Colonel headed straight for the exit, cigar in hand. As she had been told to do, Selena followed the man diligently, being sure to retrieve her carbine, before she exited the building.
"Throne blast it," cursed the Colonel, patting down his pockets, looking for something.
"Sergeant, you wouldn't happen to have a cutter, would you?" asked the Colonel, waving his cigar.
Without saying anything, Selena unsheathed a wickedly sharp fighting knife from her flak armour, and proffered it to the Colonel, hilt first. To his credit, he took it without hesitation, and in a move done too smoothly to be anything other than muscle memory, cut the tip off of his cigar with the blade, before handing the knife back. The knife barely entering its sheath, before the Colonel was puffing happily away on his cigar.
"Sergeant, I'm going to give you permission to speak freely, and believe me when I say that I want you to answer honestly, so please do so."
"Understood sir."
"After this meeting concludes and he have a short lunch, a local official has insisted that a group of EA officers responsible for the region personally see a section of the city that has yet to have all of its services restored since the colony drop at the beginning of their war. They want my regiment to focus on fixing it, as a sort of aid mission. Something of a goodwill gesture. You know what section I am speaking of, correct?"
"The Old Quarter, Sir," said Selena, remembering the pictures shown on the display during the briefing.
"Now, in your unfiltered opinion, what would be the reason of such a last minute demand to go and see the area of the city with the least bearing on our objective of restoring the unhindered transit of maritime trade?"
"Narrow streets, abandoned buildings, less chance of significant collateral damage to the local populace, restricted to travelling on foot once we enter, and too tightly clustered to reliably bring heavier weapons to bear without levelling entire blocks? I'd say this local official is leading us into an ambush with local insurgents, Sir," said Selena.
"And how would you recommend we deal with that, Sergeant?"
"I'd volunteer this guy to find out how your las pistol tastes, Sir," said Selena, earning a chuckle from the Colonel.
"Were it so simple," said the Colonel. "We are here in a peacekeeping and aid role, not a counter insurgency or combat one. There is also no hard evidence of this intent, especially considering that the official represents that district, which means that it could be simple politicking that he wants an in person tour of the district. A way to pressure local forces into giving aid to a nonessential district."
"So you think it might just be that, Sir?" asked Selena.
"Gakk, no. He's guilty as sin and looking to wipe out some senior EA officers, we're just going to be collateral in the crossfire. Though to be frank, he'd likely be helping the EA if he ended up killing the morons in charge of the region. Men like these almost make you thankful for the Commissariat. Keeping mongoloids like those out of the upper ranks is truly the Emperor's work. They wouldn't even take my suggestion of having a larger security detail since, 'it would make them look too militant to the local populace.' The Gakk does that even mean? They're soldiers with war machines the size of buildings at every throne damned corner in the city," said the Colonel gesturing to a pair of mobilesuits standing imposingly in the main square in front of city hall.
"Sounds like we're going to march into a machinegun line, Sir," said Selena truthfully, bemoaning her easy task suddenly turning into another headache.
"We are. Now Sergeant, you've served your purpose here, and I have another interpreter available this afternoon. Little munitorum dweeb," added the Colonel derisively. "What I'm saying, is that you're due to return to your unit and don't have to come along into this fools errand if you don't want to. I'm asking, not ordering you here. I could use someone who knows what to do in a firefight with me when this trap springs. Maybe nothing will happen, but if it does I want a killer watching my back."
"Sir," began Selena in mock indignation. "If I don't come, who's going to translate their pleas for mercy to you?"
Laughing in a way that made his moustache bounce on his lip, the Colonel took another cigar from a battered case, and offered it to Selena. The two enjoying what could likely be the last cigar either of them ever had.
During the inspection, Selena was pleased to see the Colonel had donned a set of flak armour and carried a las carbine of his own. His aides likewise armed and armoured, moving and looking like seasoned veterans. Even if a guardsman was young, looking in the eyes of one made it easy to tell who had seen combat, and who hadn't. Though, with Selena included there was only the five Imperials present. It seemed that these were the extent of his own forces he was allowed to bring. It just went to show no matter how far up in rank you went, you still had to follow orders from some idiot above you.
The EA escort assigned to them would have been funny, had their lives not been in danger. They looked bored, almost oblivious to the world around them, instead of scanning every window and alleyway like Selena and her fellow Imperials were doing from behind darkened sunglasses.
The streets were narrow here, built in a time dating before mechanical transport and when locomotion was achieved either by beasts of burden, or one's own two feet. A far cry from the parts of the city they had just come from made of steel, glass, and concrete. This was older, the kind of homes that generations of a family would live in and pass down for many more generations.
There were reporters and their camera crews tagging along, lapping up the word salad that the EA officers verbosely vomited about how they looked to help all in the Earth Sphere and how victory against ZAFT was assured. Usual tripe. What Selena did find important, almost as much as watching for enemy contacts, was staying out of the camera's gaze.
Roger had given her a very polite, but very pointed chat about her previous escapades, and how he didn't want to see any more of them in the future. And when a Commissar gives you a polite suggestion, it really was an ultimatum. So Selena was more than a little camera shy as a result.
They were getting to the end of the tour, a residential block that had been hit by some micro debris of the colony that had fallen. The damage was still evident, and holes in the street having been filled in with dirt, while others had been patched properly. Some holes still open with barriers placed around them, destroyed water or sewage pipes within that still needed repaired.
A reporter who looked to be barely out of scholam was yapping away next to Selena, walking backwards as she talked to her camera, when she saw it. A man, in the periphery of her vision raising the unmistakable shape of a rifle to his shoulder, half obscured in the darkened doorway of a dilapidated apartment complex.
"CONTACT LEFT!" roared Selena, interposing herself between the reporter and the gunman as she levelled her las carbine.
Selena and the man fired at the same time, but while Selena took the round in the chest plate of her flak armour, the man took the las beam in his bare chest. Selena grunted as the solid projectile was stopped by the armour, while the man had the flesh and fluid in his chest flash vaporized, leading to his rib cage bursting open like an overripe fruit as the sudden immense pressure sought to escape.
Pandemonium broke out as insurgents engaged the EA security detail from all sides, the zip of solid slugs amidst the bark of auto rifles, intermixed with the less frequent ionizing crack of las fire.
"Get to cover!" growled Selena, grabbing hold of and dragging the reporter like she was a toddler, so she and her cameraman were protected by a raised stone staircase. Gunfire raining down on the tour from three sides as muzzle flashes lit up widows or else spat from the middle of terrified crowds. Civilians not part of the assault trying to flee, but getting caught in a crossfire between insurgents, and return fire from the EA security detail.
The Colonel and his men had grabbed a handful of EA officers and had gotten them off of the street and out of the kill zone during the initial exchange of gunfire. The screams of the wounded rose over the din of gunfire as more insurgents poured out of nearby buildings. Selena lined her sights up on one and squeezed the trigger, watching as his head simply popped and ceased to be. The lifeless body falling limply to the ground and twitching as nerves fired randomly. The body not understanding it was already dead. Then, an instant later, Selena had lined up another, and repeated the process somewhat more spectacularly as the energized beam took the man in the stomach and flash vaporized everything it touched.
Regrouped, the Imperials launched a counterattack with devastating swiftness that only experienced soldiers could manage. Firing and moving as a coordinated unit, using picked shots as opposed to the hip fired bursts of the insurgents.
Selena realized that one of the well dressed civilians who been accompanying the tour was an Imperial, when he produced a bolt pistol and proceeded to remove the left portion of an insurgents body with the explosive projectile. The man looking excited, but calm in the mayhem. Quickly taking cover, but bolt pistol at the ready.
Throwing herself flat, Selena ignored the sting of stone chips striking her as bullets impacted around her, quickly snapping off several shots, before moving again in a coordinated flanking manoeuvre. Crushing inwards on the exposed flank of the ambush, quickly turning the tables on their attackers.
The counterattack caught the insurgents flatfooted, and that indecision caused many to freeze momentarily. Freeze, however, in an open street without cover making them easy targets for the Imperials and remaining EA security forces. The latter of which, few remained.
Selena caught sight of the local official from earlier fleeing away from the fighting with some of the insurgents, gesturing backwards to the remaining delegation. Before Selena could bring him into her crosshairs, a las beam lashed out, striking the man in the leg and severing everything below the knee, causing him to fall heavily to the ground. A look of disbelief on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Selena saw it had been the Colonel to take the shot, a savage grin on his face as he did so.
A man came out from a doorway to Selena's left, looking to club her with his rifle. Like a bear swatting aside a hunting dog, Selena grabbed hold of the man and tossed him aside, surprise on his face as he was exposed firsthand to an Imperial's physical strength. He hit the ground roughly, and Selena squeezed the trigger on her carbine twice, ending any threat he posed.
Grabbing what survivors they could as they forced the insurgents to momentarily retreat, the counterattack seamlessly turned into a coordinated retreat with half the Imperials firing while the other half rushed back to get into position to cover the others in a leapfrog fashion.
Selena grabbed a young EA soldier who was reloading his rifle with shaking hands, causing him to look up wide-eyed and fearful as Selena grabbed him by the vest to make sure he stuck with them and wasn't left behind.
"Time to leave," she said simply, nearly tossing the trooper as they continued their hasty retreat. Being sure to toss a smoke grenade to obscure the view of their attackers. Turning on her heel, Selena saw an insurgent levelling a rifle at the Colonel from behind, there being simply too many corners and doorways to watch all properly. It was why fighting in urban environments was such hell. Still, she managed to put a las beam through his chest and was rewarded by fragments of gore and bone exploding outwards.
Selena froze for half second as a bolt round passed close by her face, roaring by, before detonating in yet another insurgent who had appeared in the window to Selena's side. She gave the briefest nod of thanks to the man as she fell back in line. There were just too many Throne damned angles to watch.
Gathering all the survivors they had, they began extracting from the ambush site, cutting through buildings in a hectic and confusing shoot/no shoot situation. Constantly watching hands and kicking down doorways as they pushed out of the kill zone as quickly as possible. Startled civilians screaming, or else cowering as they ran through their homes, bullets chasing after them.
Selena and the others dumping magazines and power packs on full auto to their rear as they tried to discourage anyone from following them and break contact. Selena saw an EA soldier take a round to the face and crumple to the ground beside her as auto rounds punched into and through the walls around them. A spray of blood and brain matter on the wall showing where he had been standing a moment before. She had to leave the body though. If they didn't want to join the dead, anyone who fell behind, was left behind.
The reporter fell heavily, and whether it was shock or terror, began to curl up in a fetal position covering her head. Selena simply grabbed the reporter by her vest and carried her like a briefcase. Unfortunately, as they were exiting out the back of an apartment complex another insurgent with a rifle emerged from what looked like the maintenance room. Lacking the time to swing her carbine around, Selena was legitimately surprised when the long, drawn out bark of an auto rifle on full automatic shredded the man and wall around him. The cacophony of the ballistic weapon near deafening in the enclosed space. The young EA soldier that Selena had saved having dumped an entire magazine into the man, smoke wafting up from the muzzle as the bolt locked back empty. Reloading with hands that no longer trembled, he was rapidly adapting to combat and Selena gave him a savage smile.
Bursting out into the street, Selena almost fell back on her rear as the sun was suddenly blotted out, and an instant later in a near deafening crash which cracked the paving of the street, a mobilesuit landed heavily. Air intakes growling like a warning from a primordial beast.
"Keep moving West!" came the command over a loudspeaker from the war machine as rotary autocannons emerged from alcoves in the suits' legs. A moment later, a second mobilesuit landed, quickly followed by a third. All three of which possessing autocannons, in their legs.
No sooner than Selena and her cohort had cleared the trio of mobilesuits, they unleashed a withering fusillade of fire into the direction they had just fled from. Tearing into, and through the apartment complex and turning any humans they hit into bloody giblets. The heads of the mobilesuits scanning, before rotary autocannons equipped in their heads opened fire as well at unseen assailants.
They ended up running another block, before running into an EA rapid reaction force, equipped with much more familiar armoured cars and trucks. Taking a chance to breathe, Selena took a seat on an apartment stoop, before dousing her head with one of her canteens and feeling blessed relief from the oppressive heat. Realizing that at some point in their mad retreat, she had lost her hat. Stewing that she would need to pay to replace it, Selena jumped in surprise as the Colonel clapped her heavily on her shoulder pauldron.
"Gakking fine job Sergeant! Gakking well done," praised the Colonel cheerfully. "You sure you weren't in the infantry for a time?"
"Oh, you know us Cadian girls, Sir. Some girls played house, we played sweep and clear the house. I was seconded to the Valhallan 23rd for a short time though."
"How did you find that?"
"They kept trying to make me drink their absolutely fucking awful tea, Sir," said Selena grinning.
"That tana leaf piss is awful, I don't know how they can stand it. I'm putting you in for a commendation for this Sergeant. Gakking well done," he said again, before going off to speak with the surviving EA officers again. Selena noticing that the one officer and the Colonel were a little too familiar with one another. The Colonel just a little too interested in touching every scrape and bruise she had, and the officer enjoying it a little too much. Selena also remembering in the chaos of the attack, that she had been the one the Colonel had made sure to grab and get to safety first.
"You old fox," said Selena, looking around as the assembled survivors and EA reinforcements heading off to smash the insurgents. Autocannon fire and occasional heavier explosion rattling the windows near them. Selena also noticed the young EA rifleman from earlier, walking a little funny, before collapsing. Selena was at his side in an instant.
"What?" asked the trooper groggily, as Selena quickly checked him for any hidden wounds, before realizing that he was a heat casualty and so dragged him out of the sun and into the shade.
"You got a little too warm is all," said Selena, gesturing for help, before stripping the body armour and undoing any restrictive clothing on the young soldier. Then dousing him in water, before being handed wet towels and applying them to his neck, armpits, and groin as she'd been taught.
"Not trying to get too friendly with you," said Selena with a wink as she placed the last one. "Just do me a favour and don't try to have a nap, eh?"
"Okay," said the trooper, as if from far away.
Soon, a pair of medics had arrived and relieved Selena, leaving her standing with the reporter, who was holding a bag of ice rather awkwardly since the medics were already taking the young trooper off and putting an IV into his arm.
"Um, thank you for helping me earlier. My name's Johanna and, and you've been shot!" sputtered the reporter, pointing to the deformed bullet stuck to the chest plate of Selena's flak vest.
"No biggie, just take it in the plate and keep moving," said Selena rapping her armoured chest with her knuckles, before peeling the deformed round from her armour and giving it to the reporter who accepted it a little wide eyed. "A little souvenir for you."
"Would you like to give an interview and share your thoughts on today's events?" asked the reporter, snapping out of her bewilderment and shock of their near death experience and eager to get a good story.
"Nope," said Selena quickly. "None of that for me thank you very much. I've had my share of fame and attention."
"Oh, okay. You know when I first saw you, I thought that you were brought along for the photo shoot they had planned. They do that sometimes, get good looking people to pose for press release photos. In the background usually, gets the readership more involved."
"Ha! Me?" said Selena with a bark of laughter. "So what, I'd just stand like how people expect soldiers to look? Like this?" asked Selena, taking off her sunglasses and hooking them onto her flak armour so her purple eyes were visible, before striking a pose somewhere between sultry and serious. Accentuated by the fact she had doused her head in water just a moment ago, making Selena's hair glisten in the desert sun and stick to her face. Leaning against the wall to her back, Selena made it look as though she was looking at something off in the distance, las carbine halfway to a ready stance. She held the pose for a moment, before bursting out in a fit of giggles.
"I think you'd be good at it," offered Johanna. "It's good to be a little camera friendly, gives a human face to the war."
"I find that I've been far too camera friendly," countered Selena.
"Oh! You're the Imperial from both New York, and the airport brawl!" said Johanna, realization dawning on her face.
"Nope, not me," said Selena, quickly turning on her heel and walking away. Unbeknownst to Selena however, the pose she had struck had been captured by Johanna's Cameraman and became one of the most popular front page image for any wartime publication. Followed by a glowing write up detailing how Selena had not only dragged Johanna and the young rifleman to safety, but also saw to his care after the fight. The phrase 'take it in the plate and keep moving,' becoming a popular phrase when dealing with adversity among EA forces.
Several hours later
"Popsicle, or ice cream?" asked Selena, proffering the frozen treats as she stuck her head into the hatch of the Two for Flinching.
"How'd you get those?" demanded Rachael.
"Made friends with a Colonel. Shot some people. Got called a hero. The usual."
"Tee hee, your jokes are so funny," said Rachael laconically, taking a Popsicle.
"They sure are," agreed Selena. "But Colonel Hardwick is a busy man, and he's the one who bought these and he wants them handed out before they melt."
"Wait? Seriously?" said Rachael, popping her head out of the crew hatch, and seeing the truck Selena had returned in came equipped with a full bird colonel, handing out frozen treats.
"Also, gotta say, I love his sense of humour," added Selena to a very bewildered Rachael.
AN: There were originally going to be more parts to this chapter, but I had too much fun with the Cadians and they dominated it.