Hey, peeps~! Here's the start of the next arc of The Phoenix Rising. I hope you guys are ready for what's coming next here. ;) And trust me, there's a lot more that's going on behind the scenes. ;3

- operation meteor: Happy you enjoyed it. :)

- Spiceracksergeant001: As always, loved your review. :) And yes, One WTC is made of sterner stuff because it was built with such attacks in mind in the future. :) Big U is indeed gonna be refitted, and guess which battleship is coming into play this time~! XD As for Mexico, well... the battle there is going to be rather brutal due to Ghoul Squadron. All I can say is that they'll be hard-pressed to achieve a victory. As for how... you'll have to see~! XD

- CT7567Rules: You have no idea how badly Djibril is gonna react! XD And yes, things are only gonna get more interesting. You will see Rob's sister soon. ;)

- 1800009trumbullps . net: Thanks! :3

- KentLinuxStadfelt: Glad ya liked it! XD :3

(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 XXXV: Satellite Siege I

SATELLITE CITY BORDERS

MEXICO

December 20th, CE 0073

Bruno Zabiarov stood atop the mesa, his eye narrowed as he studied the mountains before him.

He could barely see beyond it, but they were there.

Buildings.

Skyscrapers, to be exact.

The new base for the resistance.

Off to his side, stood his second-in-command, Jerald Fritz. Like him, Fritz was a former spec ops member, and he was also one of the most Darwinian out of the unit. He never saw other humans in battle, only predators and prey. And he was one of the most devout when it came to the cause of Blue Cosmos. His thick blonde hair was shaggy and looked like it had never been combed before, with his sea-green eyes adding to his ruggedness. But he was far from being a gentleman.

He was a brutal warrior through and through, which was the only reason that Bruno kept him on the team.

"So zat is zeir base," Fritz stated, his voice low and gravelly.

"Yes," Bruno affirmed. "I must admit it was clever of them to hide it within the mountains." His eye narrowed a bit more. "But not good enough."

"I take it ve're going to attack zen?" Fritz inquired.

Bruno gave a sinister grin as he nodded. "We are. But not right now. We're still waiting for the order from the High Command."

As much as he loathed to admit it, he did see that there was a good reason for this. Unlike ZAFT's SOS during the First BV War, the Ghost Squadrons were ordered only by High Command to attack targets deemed viable. He dearly wished they could have more operational freedom when compared to the rest of the Army, but it was just not possible. He had to accept it and leave it at that.

But this time, he had been given explicit orders to take down a rebel base in Mexico, and he was intent on doing it. Not just to show the rebels who was boss, but also to show that rear admiral who was really in charge.

A sneer crossed his face as he glanced back to the base camp recently established.

Off to the side of the recently erected buildings, he could see all eleven of their machines, each one geared for combat.

His gaze landed on his own machine, taking in the sleek, broad-shouldered build and its compliment of weapons.

The Windam Reaper was a formidable machine in its own right. Its armor was painted a dark gray color with hints of white to add a skeletal appearance, and in one hand it held the shaft of a beam scythe, taken from the Forbidden's initial design. On its back rested a Dual Sword Striker Pack, possessing twin anti-ship swords and in its left hand a M9409L Beam Rifle was clenched. The optical visor had been replaced with a mono-eyed sensor, adding a sense of intimidation to its appearance, making it seem like something out of a horror film. Even the golden V-fin antennae were painted like a pair of skeletal limbs. In contrast to the rest of the Windams, which possessed bulbous shoulder armor, his machine's shoulder armor more or less resembled that of the original Strike, which had allowed it to mount the Sword Striker Pack.

In his eyes, the Windams' huge shoulder armor was a mockery of what made a mobile suit. The idea of huge shoulder pauldrons was a throwback to the ancient days where shoulder armor's size meant one's rank on the battlefield.

To him, it was experience that mattered. Not some armor pieces.

He turned back to face the base as the first rays of the sun began to poke over the horizon.

The city lights still glinted, but already some of the sun's light was touching the buildings, and their glass flashed as if with defiance. He scowled. There was no way they knew his unit was here. He had made sure to have them approach under cover of night, traveling all the way from the former state of Texas down to the Chihuahuan Desert.

It had been a hassle to even get down here, given how bad things were getting up in the mainland. With the riots having broken into all out rebellion, it was only a matter of time before the surge of resistance came down to this land. So they had to take it back and show that they were not going to let some rebels win.

No matter what it took.

Even if it cost him everything... including his life.

He turned to look at the man who was observing the city with binoculars.

"Do you see any of the traitors?" he asked.

The man lowered the binoculars and shook his head. "No, sir. I see no human activity, but I do see what appear to be vehicles patrolling the area every now and then."

"Patrol routes, then..." Bruno muttered. "A shrewd move to keep themselves aware of what comes to their borders."

Then he sneered. "But not everything can be predicted."

"That may be true, sir, but there is still something we have to consider," the man admitted as he raised the binoculars and handed them to his superior. "See for yourself."

Bruno frowned as he took the optics and looked through them, spotting a few mobile suits not of Atlantian design flying around. They were much slimmer in both arms and legs, and possessed what appeared to be aircraft components on their frames. "A futile attempt to rebuild an air force," he mused.

"Not them," the man said. "Look closer."

The commander of Ghoul Squadron shifted his gaze to the left, and then he saw it.

A pure gray machine, with the same base design of the Freedom, as well as hints of the Strike Noir in its frame layout. The golden V-fin atop its helm was the only thing that was colored, and, unlike the other machines from Terminal, this one's optical sensors were a brilliant cyan color, like that of the sky above. But it was the way it flew and moved that made him pause.

It was too smooth to be piloted by a human.

Bruno frowned as he lowered the binoculars. "So... the rumors were true then, Kendall," he surmised. "They did jack one of Xen's precious AIs."

"Yes," the man, Kendall Locks, said as he accepted the binoculars back. "And it appears it's allied with the rebels."

"A foolish thing for them to do," Bruno remarked. "All AI are bound to turn on us humans eventually. So why should this one be any different?"

"Perhaps it vas reprogrammed by zem," Fritz mused. "It is possible."

"Maybe, but I'm not one to consider that as being possible because of how good Xen is, despite being a woman!" Bruno said, spitting the last word out with spite.

Fritz and Kendall nodded.

"I assume then that our forces are prepared for combat?" he asked, turning to Kendall.

"Yes, sir. All machines are ready and awaiting your command," the man said.

Bruno sneered as he lifted up his eye patch to expose his red and black cybernetic eye. He tossed it aside and clenched his fists. "Then we move at first light!" he declared. "This time... those traitors will see the folly of rejecting the divine will of Lord Azrael!"

. . .

SATELLITE CITY COMMAND CENTER

Keith was sound asleep in his bed when the alarm blared, startling him wide awake.

His hand flew for the Desert Eagle under his pillow and he was out of bed in a flash, eyes narrowed as he swept the gun around, only to realize that he was not under attack, but that it was only the alarm. He blinked the last bit of sleepiness from his mind and shook his head before running a hand through his hair and making his way to the terminal as it began to beep over the wailing of the alarm.

He tapped one of the keys and up came the face of his second-in-command. "What's going on?" he asked, getting right to the point.

"Sir, we got information from our scout patrols!" she blurted. "There's an entire unit of Windams coming our way!"

"Windams..." Keith's eyes narrowed. "What did these Windams look like?"

The woman pursed her lips before she pressed a button and her image retracted to a smaller corner on the screen and up came surveillance camera footage of the incoming machines.

Keith's breath hitched in his throat at the sight.

"Crap...!" he muttered, feeling his face go pale as the blood drained from it. "That's Ghoul Squadron!"

That was enough to make her gasp. "You mean...? They're here?!"

He nodded. "Yeah. And if I'm right, which I hope I'm not... we're in for the fight of our lives here..."

"Shall I call the entire command?" his SiC asked.

Keith nodded as he started to get dressed. "Yes. But first, how far out are the Windams?"

"About five hours," she responded.

"Dammit...!" Keith swore. "Get all pilots up and ready for deployment in five hours!" he barked.

"Yes, sir!" the woman said. She saluted sharply before the screen went dark and he finished getting dressed. He was out of the room in a flash, running for the command center. His feet pounded the flooring as he darted up the flights of stairs, his eyes narrowed.

'Why them? Why Ghoul Squadron?' he thought. 'Last I heard they were in Europe, terrorizing the shit out of the local populace, including their soldiers! So why did they come back stateside? Was it because of our actions? I know we did everything we could to try and keep the cabal from finding out about the battles, but maybe it wasn't enough. If that's the case, then we need to be extra careful. And those guys are close to impossible to beat. After all, the Ghost Squadrons have been known to be invincible in the eyes of the regular folks...'

He gritted his teeth at the thought. 'But of course Eisenhower would disagree with me on the matter. She does have a valid point though in that everything has a weakness. We just gotta find it. And if there's one thing I've learned through this, is that there is nothing that is impossible. I mean, case in point, the BOLO Initiative. People always said it was impossible to make an AI that has genuine feelings. But I did it. Sure I used one of Xen's own AIs to make it happen, but the point is it can be done with the right algorithms. And Xen wrote the right algorithms.'

Keith slid around the corner on the top landing and grabbed the door before throwing it open and emerging into the hall. 'So that means that no Ghost Squadron is truly invincible! It may be hard to beat them, but they can be beaten! That's all that matters to me right now. And to do so, we need to know how to beat them. So, as much as I hate to admit it, we may have to be beaten around a few times to learn their tricks. Well, that goes without saying seeing as how we have very few aces that are of Marcus's caliber.'

The AI expert finally slowed as he approached the command center, panting heavily from his run. He was not one to be super athletic, but he did do some running to keep in somewhat decent shape. It was just the extra going up and down the stairs was a lot more taxing than he recalled. He swore to himself under his breath for the lack of installing elevators, but it was perhaps the only way to ensure that people stayed fit for potential combat.

By the time he had reached the command center, a number of his command staff had already been assembled outside, including Jen and Hank.

The door slid open as Keith approached. The group assembled gave a crisp salute, which he returned. "If you'll follow me into the command center, we'll get right down to business. We don't have much time," Keith said seriously.

"Any idea as to what's going on?" Theo asked around a yawn.

"Two words," Keith said darkly. "Ghoul Squadron."

The group all stared as he narrowed his eyes. "You know of the rumors, right? Well... they're not so much rumors as they are fact."

"But why would those bastards be here stateside?!" Jen exclaimed.

"Yeah!" came another voice from deeper in the group. Keith shot his gaze to a hulking African man named Leon Jacobs.

"Unfortunately, all I can think of is the fact that we've engaged in battle against the Atlantians twice already and thrashed them, as well as snagging their lab and Dr. Sung," Keith admitted. "But that's why we're here. To discuss a plan on how to take down Ghoul Squadron."

"But we don't know how much time we got!" another woman shouted.

"We have about four and a half hours before they get here," Keith said seriously. "We have until then to come up with a defensive plan."

"Are the defenses operational at least?" someone else inquired.

Keith gave a shake of his head. "No. At least, not for the moment."

"Then how are we supposed to beat those assholes?!" Leon exclaimed.

Keith's eyes hardened. "Any way we can."

The way he said it with such finality indicated he was dead serious. There was no other way at the moment to hold the line, aside from their ace pilots and any other pilot that could be spared. It meant that anyone capable of fighting would have to fight. It was something he didn't like doing, but given the circumstances, it was needed at the moment.

He sighed heavily. "We're going to need everyone we got."

He looked up, eyes hard.

"And I mean it when I say that."

Everyone went silent.

"So... what have we got?" he asked, placing both hands on the table in between the group.

"Sir, we have only our mobile suits for the moment, and our aces can only do so much to hold back Ghoul Squadron and any forces that are going to support them," Leon admitted.

"Right." Keith nodded. "But I mean what else do we have that we can use?"

No one answered for a moment until Jen's eyes went wide. "Wait... I think I get an idea as to what you're up to!" she exclaimed. "You want to use the mountains!"

Keith gave a grim smile at that. "Exactly."

"That's all good, but remember the Windams can fly," someone else remarked.

"I'm well aware of that, which is why we're going to have our GMs act as anti-aircraft platforms," Keith said as he pressed a few buttons on the side of the table and the center lit up, a map of the entire area coming into view. The group leaned over as he pursed his lips.

"We'll have one group positioned closer to the edge of the city perimeter to start with..."

. . .

Within the hangar bay, Turbine was... feeling off.

And that was saying something, given how he was an artificial intelligence. Sure he had emotions, but this feeling... it was one he was not familiar with at all.

It felt like his entire frame was...twitchy...for lack of a better description. He found his wings flexed in very minute movements every few seconds, and he felt an unexplained urge to wring his large metal hands together. He was doing a good job at keeping it hidden, but it was something he wasn't liking.

And it showed in how he was physically reacting.

He could feel something in his chest, and it weirded him out immensely. He had never experienced this strange sensation of something seeming to skip in his chest, despite not having an organic equivalent. He let out a soft whine as he curled up on the crate he was sitting on, trying to keep himself from twitching.

Theo, however, was present at the moment, looking over some of the combat programs for the tanks on his laptop when he heard the whine Turbine made in the back of his vocalizer.

"Hm?" He glanced up, closing down the program analysis system and shutting his laptop. He got to his feet and walked over to the AI. "Something wrong, Turbine?"

The AI jolted and he glanced down, seeing one of the humans he considered family. "Oh... Theo." He shifted his cyan gaze away from Theo and down to his fingers as he pressed them together. "I...I guess you could say that..." he muttered, his voice softer than normal.

"So, what's the problem?" Theo asked. "I mean, the way you're acting, I'd have to say something's bothering you."

"Yeah. I... I can't quite explain it, honestly, but..." Turbine's wings twitched and he started to wring his hands together, the scraping of metal on metal making Theo wince.

"Geez! Cut it out, will ya?" Theo exclaimed, rubbing his ears. "You're acting like you're a nervous wreck!"

That threw Turbine for a loop. "Huh?" He stopped his antics and looked at the human, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "What did you say?"

Theo lowered his hands, stunned. "Wait... is that what this is about? You're nervous?"

"What's... 'nervous' mean?" the AI asked.

"Hold on. You mean you haven't experienced being nervous before?" Theo asked in disbelief as he stared at the AI.

Turbine paused for a moment, analyzing all previous experiences with his slowly growing emotions. He had experienced a variety, but none of the sensations he had experienced even came close to what he was feeling now. He slowly shook his helm.

The human clapped a hand to his forehead. "You gotta be kidding...!"

Turbine looked at Theo with a questioning hum.

Theo took his cap off and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay... Look. Why don't you tell me what you're feeling right now?" he suggested. "Then I can help you out better."

Turbine nodded. "Okay." He shifted on his crate as he looked down at his servos. "Well... to be honest, it feels like my entire frame is... twitchy... for lack of a better description. I've run all kinds of diagnostics and nothing is malfunctioning. So why is it my wings twitch and I feel this urge to wring my servos together? And I also have this weird feeling in my chest... Like something is...skipping... when there is nothing there..." He raised one servo and gingerly touched the center of his chest with the shaking digits.

Theo pursed his lips as he pondered the information Turbine had given him. He knew what it was right off the bat. Nervousness. Or more like anxiety.

"You're anxious."

The AI's helm snapped back in his direction. "What?"

"You heard me." Theo gave a nod. "You're feeling anxious."

"But why?" Turbine asked. "Given all I've been through so far, I shouldn't be feeling like this..."

"You forget you've only been online for a short time though," Theo pointed out. "And you still have a lot to learn about emotions and being alive." He sat down on the floor and gazed up into Turbine's cyan optics. "So you're still young. Practically like an infant in human terms. I don't know how fast AIs can age, but you're definitely not an infant mentally or a child for that matter. You're still learning though, which is something that we need to embrace. And that includes you."

Turbine looked down at his words, pondering them.

"Anxiety is a normal thing to feel before going into battle," Theo explained. "A lot of soldiers get anxious going into battle their first time."

"But I've been in battles before, and I've never felt like this!" Turbine protested.

Theo gently raised his hands to calm the terrified AI down. "Just calm down. Take in several breaths and calm down."

The faint sound of air being drawn in through intakes filled the hangar bay briefly as Turbine did as Theo instructed. He noted with some interest and relief that Turbine's twitchiness settled down by doing that.

"Okay. Good. Now, I know you've been in battle before, but that was against grunts and AI and Extended. This is your first real battle against enemy aces. So of course you'd feel anxious," Theo said.

"Enemy... aces?" Turbine tilted his helm to the side in confusion.

Theo nodded. "Yeah. Enemy aces are those who have five or more kills to their name. But there are those that can be considered elite aces, or those who have well over five kills under their belt."

Turbine looked down, processing the information. "And aces are harder to take down than regular pilots, correct?" he asked.

The human nodded once. "That's right," he stated. He leaned back against the crate before he folded his arms. "Those aces are better than normal pilots, mostly due to their skills. And if an ace distinguishes themselves in combat, they can be granted a custom machine or whatever else they desire to help them in battle. Whether it's a new weapon or an addition to their machine, those modifications or new machines can make them even deadlier in battle." His eyes narrowed as he studied Turbine critically for a moment.

"And to be honest, I don't know if deactivating AIs can be enough to attain the rank of ace in my book," he added. "But... given what happened during the attack on Sung's lab... I think you could qualify as a potential ace yourself."

"Wait. What?!" Turbine snapped his gaze to Theo.

The human shot the AI a grin. "You heard me."

"I... made ace?!" Turbine was startled. "But..."

"I studied the recordings of the flight data from our forces, and you did manage to take down five enemy machines," Theo explained. "So that qualifies you as an ace pilot."

"But doesn't one have to be a human to be an ace?" the AI asked.

"Not according to our beliefs," Theo stated. He glanced at the mobile suit seriously. "Look. You're sentient. You're one of us. We could give a rat's ass if you were an AI or human. If you're sentient and are against LOGOs, then you're one of us. An American citizen. That's what matters to us. As well as what you fight for."

Turbine was silent for a moment before he looked down. "I... I guess you'd be right..." he admitted hesitantly. "But I'm still feeling... anxious... about this battle."

"Hey. We all are," Theo admitted. He unfolded his arms and sat down against the crate. "I know I am, and I'm not an active combatant. But the truth is... this is one of the nastiest units we've been up against. They're not just aces. They're aces, or elite aces. And they're very brutal. So it's going to require everyone that can pilot a mobile suit or who can fight." He looked up at the hangar ceiling, his eyes narrowing against the bright lights. "And that includes me."

"How bad are we talking?" Turbine rumbled softly.

Theo grimaced. "I'd... rather wait until after the battle for that story."

The AI let out a questioning hum, but didn't pry any further.

The alarm began to blare as the AI and technician looked up.

"Looks like the mobile suits are beginning to mobilize," Theo said as he stood up. "I'm hoping you survive out there, Turbine."

Turbine nodded, feeling that strange feeling of anxiety surfacing again. He got off his crate and rolled his shoulders. "Right."

. . .

Bruno chuckled as he adjusted his machine, flying alongside some of his squad mates as they approached the city in the mountains. He had to admit it was cute as to how they thought they could keep the base hidden from sight using just the natural landscape.

Already his sensors were picking up the activity of other vehicles starting to assemble on the perimeter. His eye flicked over the readouts and he scowled. 'Tanks. Old helicopters. Mobile suits. They're going all out...' he mused to himself. 'But those things first two assets have little to offer in the age of the mobile suit.'

While he was sure that the resistance was only using these vehicles as fodder for the real threat of the mobile suit, he did have to admit that the attack on Kiddie Kamp was perhaps the boldest move they had made to date. In fact, it was that very reason why he had even been sent down here to begin with: to remove the threat of the Mexican cell, which had proven to be the most dangerous when it came to sniffing out their hiding spots for concentration camps and Dr. Sung's lab.

And now...

Well, this was going to be the battle that decided the fate of the war.

For the Atlantian Reich, anyway.

He glanced left and right, seeing the machines of his unit assembling in the air into an attack formation. He grinned as he reached up to his eye patch and slid it back, exposing the black and red eye he was known for. A sneer crossed his face as he gripped the controls.

"All men, sound off!" he ordered.

"Ghoul Two!"

"Ghoul Three!"

"Ghoul Four!"

"Ghoul Five!"

"Ghoul Six!"

"Ghoul Seven!"

"Ghoul Eight!"

"Ghoul Nine!"

"Ghoul Ten!"

"Ghoul Eleven!"

The ten voices resounded in his speakers and he cackled. "You know the deal, then, boys!" he chortled, feeling the sense of excitement coming over him. "We go in and we do what we do best!"

"FOR THE PRESERVATION OF OUR BLUE AND PURE WORLD!" the squadron cried.

Thruster fire bloomed from the backs of their machines and the eleven units of Ghoul Squadron accelerated to attack speed, weapons drawn.

The city loomed ahead of them, and its defenders stood ready.

Then, the unexpected happened.

The last thing he had expected was to suddenly lose contact with the base camp. He jolted in shock as his radar also went offline, along with his long-range communications systems. "The hell?!" he blurted.

His sensors beeped and he glanced up, just in time to see one of those damnable helicopters coming in. He grasped his machine's scythe and drew it back, swinging it like the Grim Reaper himself. The helicopter didn't even stand a chance as it was cut in half, the pilot and gunner both ejecting in time before the two halves exploded. He turned around, ignoring the rabble as he saw two more helos coming his way.

He swung his beam scythe a second time, but both vehicles dodged it with ease, making him snarl. Off to his right, Ghoul-Four drew his anti-ship swords and slashed at two more helicopters, cutting them in half and killing the four men inside. He glanced left and right, surprised to see how many of the things were now starting to circle like a halo.

And that was just the distraction.

. . .

Kevin had to admit that deploying the Mirage Colloid was a smart move on the commander's part.

Jamming all communications and radar would allow them to get the upper hand, or at least stall for as long as possible to keep enemy reinforcements from coming.

Of course, with a maximum of five minutes, that only meant that they had a short time to do as much damage as they could.

Off to the right, he could see Turbine was crouched to spring into the air should the need arise. Diana and George were also standing by, this time George in a heavy artillery mobile suit.

Dubbed the GM Cannon due to the 240mm heavy cannons mounted on his back, this variant was an offshoot of the GM, but modified for artillery fire instead of general use. The Artillery Pack was another modification pack that allowed the GM to adopt an artillery role so as to keep the pilots safe in case a potential fight with lethal enemy aces. In an interesting twist, George had ordered his machine painted a bright red color, save for the head. The machine was crouched over the rocks, its cannons aimed at the incoming mobile suits, and the circling halo of helicopters.

Diana meanwhile was in a Blast this time, ready to fly.

He turned his gaze back to the elite Ghoul Squadron, and he scowled.

This time, they were not going to get a chance to do what they did to civilians and soldiers in Europe.

He gripped his controls and moved his GM's arms up, holding the BOWA*XBR-M-79-07G Beam Rifle in its grasp. The targeting reticle danced across his main cockpit screen and he narrowed his eyes as he knelt his machine, the Jammer Pack going full power. The Natural pulled the trigger a few moments later as soon as it locked onto a target, and the pink beam shot out of the barrel, striking one of the Windams in the left knee joint. The machine descended until it was on the ground, and he watched as it stood up, only to collapse to its knee.

He hurriedly switched to the encrypted channel for short-range radio communications.

"Gwen, tell the commander that one of them is down on the ground!" he relayed. "I'll try and keep his attention on me."

"Kevin! Don't be stupid! You won't stand a chance!" Gwen practically screeched in his ears.

Kevin gave a sad smile. "I know. But this is the only way we can start to do some damage. I don't like it either. But this... this is for you and your cousin, Ben."

He chuckled. "I never thought that I would be the one to fight against an elite ace like this... Especially given how I used to be like them until you snapped me to my senses..."

"Kevin..." Gwen's voice faltered.

"I love you, Gwen," Kevin said softly. "You were the best I could have had to turn to. You... you gave my life meaning when I thought I lost it. And..." He gritted his teeth as he stood his machine up as a second Windam from Ghoul Squadron started to descend to his location.

"Consider this my last act of redemption, love."

Kevin's hand flicked out and touched a pair of buttons on his controls. His GM shuddered as the bulky Jammer Pack was disconnected and landed on the ground, still putting out its jamming signal. Without the huge pack, his GM was much faster and more agile. "I know I won't be coming back. But... this way, I can at least give these guys hell for what they did to the brave soldiers of the Eurasian Federation!"

Kevin let out a battle cry as he charged towards the incoming Windam, firing his beam rifle repeatedly at it as it touched down. The pilot moved his shield in front, and as he got into range, a Germanic sounding voice echoed over the short-wave communications system.

"Pathetic. You von't be of much challenge to me."

The pilot drew back a beam saber and swung, forcing Kevin to dodge it, the blade scraping paint. His eyes narrowed as he grasped his beam rifle and fired a few more shots, trying to hit the skeletal-clad Windam in the chest. But the Windam was too fast, relying on its Jet Striker to evade by jumping back and landing a few meters away. The Windam's M9409L Beam Rifle was in its hand a moment later, firing at Kevin's GM. The pilot jerked his machine back, barely getting hit, but the heat from the passing beam was enough to cause some damage to the servo motors within one of the joints. He looked down at the schematic of the GM on his cockpit's control console and he scowled.

He shifted his gaze back up before he tossed aside his empty beam rifle and grasped the beam saber on the left side of where the GM's original thruster pack had been and pulled it free, igniting the blade and brandishing it as he got into a fighting stance. His brown eyes hardened as he reached up and grasped his helmet, pulling it off and letting his long black hair frame his face as a sneer crossed his features. "You want a challenge?" he asked, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "Then you got one!"

. . .

The hangar was a madhouse as the pilots of all the ace machines scrambled to them.

Marcus was not thrilled about dealing with Ghoul Squadron. He had heard many rumors of them, and he didn't like the fact that they were here in the first place.

His foot was already on the cable leading up to his machine's cockpit as he heard the cries of Control as a few other units launched. A pair of NEMOs was already on the launching pad and he watched as the catapult shot them down the launch tube before they were airborne. He scrambled into his Blast's cockpit as the hatch slid shut and he buckled up. He glanced around before he keyed in the commands to start and the mobile suit operating system appeared on the screen before him before it disappeared, the main monitors coming online.

He was quick to don his helmet as he heard Control's voice echoing over the radio.

"Strider Squadron, you're clear to launch!" the woman's voice said.

"Roger that, Control! Standing by for launch!" Marcus replied as he maneuvered his machine towards the catapult launch platform.

Beside him he saw Alicia's mobile suit waving a hand and he gave a salute with his own machine's hand. The two turned to face the opening in the hangar bay as the metallic clamps locked into place over their machines' feet. They crouched their machines and both sounded off.

"Strider One, engaging!" Marcus barked.

"Strider Two, ready!" Alicia stated.

"Striders One and Two, launch!"

The pilot was pushed back into his seat as he felt the telltale pressure of acceleration on his chest. His eyes were narrowed as he fought back the darkness on the edges of his vision. Then he felt the clamps release his mobile suit and the Blast was airborne. He kicked on the thrusters before his machine could fall, and Alicia was on the same page. Both Blasts streaked ahead as two more members of Ghoul Squadron came their way. "Here we go!" Marcus growled, feeling his eyes narrow. He focused on the feeling of fury within him and the light blue seed-like jewel fell and shattered, a red ring of light around the explosion of light. His eyes dilated and glazed over, the irises growing in size and his pupils shrinking. He had entered SEED Mode.

He swiftly drew his ES04 beam saber as the Windam he was fighting against drew its own blade, violet and violet meeting. Sparks flew from the meeting point of the blades and he reacted by kicking his Blast's leg out, slamming the heavy metal foot into the chest and forcing the Windam to back off. The Windam's pilot chuckled over the COMM system, and Marcus narrowed his SEED-dilated eyes.

"So, you're an ace, I hear," the man said.

"So? What of it?" Marcus growled.

"I wish to see your skills in action against mine," the pilot replied as a visual communications feed was opened between the two mobile suits. The man on the other end had slicked back blonde hair and sea-green eyes while a mustache covered his upper lip. "After all, I want to see what makes your traitorous hide so valuable to these rebel insects."

Marcus had to resist flashing this man the finger. Instead he shifted in his seat, pulling back his Blast's free hand and clenching the manipulator into a fist. Then he shoved the throttle forward and slugged the man's Windam across the face with a brutal haymaker. He was sent flying back and Marcus took the chance to store his beam saber before he grabbed his "Trident Striker" rifle and pulled it free from his machine's back. He aimed it at the still-reeling Windam and fired, sending two 60mm shells right for the enemy machine.

The shells just hit the Windam's left arm and lower torso, exploding and sending the machine reeling even more. Marcus gritted his teeth and shoved both throttles forward. A blooming flash of blue-white thruster fire erupted from the Blast's thrusters and he charged, firing a few more rounds at the Windam. However, the opposing pilot managed to regain his senses and he retaliated by firing his beam rifle at the incoming Blast.

Marcus pulled back on the throttles and his machine's thrusters cut out, gravity embracing him and tugging his machine below the incoming shot. The beam barely missed his Blast's head, and he kicked on the thrusters again, coming to a hover and firing the 200mm main barrel for the Windam. The man's eyes narrowed as he cut the visual feed and swiped with his beam saber, cutting the shell in half.

But Marcus was counting on that.

Behind him Alicia was waiting. Her Blast pounced, lunging out of the sun, her beam saber flashing as she swung with all the force in her machine's hydraulics.

Only for the second Windam to interpose itself between her and Marcus's opponent.

"Vell, vell... a little frauline who zinks she is one of ze men," a condescending voice sneered over the COMM.

"Says one of those bastards who murdered countless innocents!" Alicia spat, her voice tinged with nothing but hatred for this man. Marcus was honestly surprised by that. She had a reputation as a cool-headed pilot, but he had an inkling that maybe this man and her had a history of sorts.

"Ah... Now I remember..." the second Windam pilot chuckled. "It was you who escaped me all zose years ago. Such a shame. You vould have made a lovely wife for me..."

"Just shut up!" Alicia hissed, her Blast's visor flashing a startling golden as if in response to her emotions. "I'll make you pay for that day!"

Now Marcus understood what was happening here. 'This man... he must've been the one who murdered her son and left her daughter a vegetable!' he thought in shock. 'Or at least a part of that gang that did it.'

With Alicia fighting against this man, he had his own opponent to focus on.

And he was definitely not about to let this one go.

The rebel pilot turned his gaze to the other Windam pilot before him and gripped his controls. The enemy pilot chuckled. "So... are you going to hold back, or do I have to force you to go all out?"

Marcus didn't even say a word as he gripped his rifle and fired two 60mm shells at him.

. . .

Bruno watched his squad charge into the fray, and he chuckled a bit. "Ah... this is just what I wanted to see..." he purred.

As he adjusted his machine's position in the air, he perked up as he heard his proximity sensors go off. He turned his gaze to look at the screen, and his eyes widened as he saw a black and white-clad machine charging in, twin cyan optics flashing brightly as a brilliant blue beam saber came his way. He reacted by swinging his scythe to block the blade with the glowing red blade of his own weapon.

The two machines pressed against one another, one piloted by a man, one controlled by a true artificial intelligence, their hydraulics straining and their metal frames groaning from the pressure they were applying. The Ghoul leader took the chance to study his adversary closely.

Right off the bat he noticed that this machine was a mix of both the Strike Noir and Freedom Gundam. The majority of the frame was reminiscent of the Freedom, but it possessed the chest of the Strike Noir. The only difference was that it lacked the same MMI-M15 "Xiphias" Railguns on the hips as the Freedom. As well as the fact that the chest and upper arms looked to be bulkier in their design, and the upper arms also lacked the same ball-like protrusions beneath the shoulder guards. Its optics were also bright cyan blue, and within them was the definitive light of sentience and intelligence.

'So... the rear admiral's report was accurate,' he thought. 'This thing is supposedly sentient. But I doubt it highly. These rebel scum must have programmed it to only act sentient rather than have true sentience, which is something only we humans can have.'

He scoffed at the thought.

'A likely story... It's most likely they are also using a human pilot and the machine is equipped with a voice modulator to convince us they have a truly sentient artificial intelligence amongst them.'

The commander of Ghoul Squadron sneered as he thrust the beam scythe up at an angle, shoving the beam saber of his adversary aside before he spun the blade of his scythe and slashed at the Freedom knockoff. The machine ducked under the beam scythe's trajectory and thrust a clenched fist forward, slugging the Windam Reaper in the face and making him grunt as he was knocked around in the cockpit, held only in place by his restraints. He reacted by pulling back on the throttles and his machine came to a hover as he righted himself, looking at the mobile suit that had slugged him.

The Freedom mimic seemed tense before it charged in, one hand reaching out for his scythe.

Bruno toggled the communications systems to address this 'AI'. "Oh, no you don't!" he sneered, drawing back his weapon and swinging it in a wide sweeping motion, forcing the mobile suit to back off, its optics glittering in a strange way. "You're not going to get my weapon, or use it against me!"

"Says the one who murdered innocents in Europe!" the mobile suit's pilot hissed.

The commander perked up at the tone of the voice, recognizing it as being masculine in nature... but with a faint metallic edge to it. He scoffed as he rolled his eyes. That alone seemed to confirm his theory.

He gripped his controls and gazed at the machine, looking right into the optical sensors. "Look. I know what you are trying to do," he noted. "You are only fooling people into thinking you have a true AI at your disposal. Rear Admiral Xen cannot create sentient AI. No one can. Humans are the only sentient beings that roam this earth, and Coordinator scum do not count. So... your little act will end now."

"It's no act, bastard!" the pilot spat. "My creator did indeed make me, but she was in no way the one who raised me!"

"Nice try, boy!" Bruno sneered, charging at the so-called AI. He stabbed his scythe downward, forcing the pilot to backpedal in the air, the red beam blade barely missing the armor of his machine. He then spun his scythe around and jabbed the pointed end of the staff into the shoulder joint, causing the pilot to cry out and, acting in his capacity as an AI, grabbing the shoulder joint as if he were feeling the pain. He glanced at the hand of his machine and flexed it, as if seeing if his hand would still work. He looked up, and it was then that he saw something that sent chills down his spine.

Those cyan optics... were clearly looking right at him. It was not as if a human were gazing at him.

He could sense the logical mind behind those optics, and he then knew.

This machine was indeed commanded by the missing AI that Xen had ordered be destroyed.

"So... AI-23 then, I assume. The tainted AI that Rear Admiral Xen failed to destroy," he mused, his red eye flickering as his blue eye flashed in his excitement. If he could kill this pile of code, then he would be promoted. He was sure of it.

"The name is Turbine Martinez!" the AI spat, its optics flashing before it pulled back its arm and clenched both fists.

"No. You are an artificial intelligence. You have no name. All you have is a designation and your purpose, which all AI are bound to fulfill. No matter what idealistic bullshit these people fed you, you are a slave. And you cannot escape that fate," Bruno mocked as he spun his weapon and held it off to the side as he reached for his M9409L Beam Rifle and pulled it free from his back skirt armor. "No matter what you say!" He chuckled darkly as he thrust his controls forward and his Windam charged at the AI.

Bruno was grinning sinisterly as he flew straight at AI-23, or Turbine as it now called itself. The very idea of the AI being sentient was laughable. It was just a machine, just mere code! There was no way it was actually alive!

However, as he was thinking these thoughts, Bruno was unaware that Turbine was up to something.

For Turbine, he had to get the advantage over this guy because of the fact this pilot was one of their best. His programming was kicking in, allowing him to observe the enemy Windam, and taking note of the giant scythe that was carried in the black machine's left hand. His programming flashed him options to deal with that weapon and take it out of the equation. The railguns in his wings could do the job, but the beam blade could easily deflect the shots. The beam pistols were another option, but again, the beams could be deflected. Same with the beam rifle. However, one thing stood out to him. The grappler lines he had in his frame's lower arms. Those had claws on them that could grab onto things. Maybe...

Turbine held up his right arm and the top covering of the launcher lifted up, revealing the grappler claw. Turbine felt a mental grin cross his processors before he fired the grappler, the claw opening up once fired.

The claw latched onto the beam scythe easily, clamping closed once it had a grip. Turbine wrapped the cable around his hand and engaged his engines, pulling back as he gave a harsh tug. "YOINK!"

Bruno suddenly felt his Windam get pulled forwards by this sudden force. He was surprised when he felt something getting yanked from his machine's grip, only to see his beam scythe being pulled away. "Wh-whu... HEY!" Bruno snapped.

The beam scythe was pulled right into Turbine's grasp. The AI caught the pole of the scythe before wagging a finger, as if to taunt Bruno. Bruno was inevitably angered by this and snarled. "GIVE IT BACK!"

"Nope~!" Turbine said with a taunting tone before grabbing the scythe and spinning it around, stopping when the beam blade was pointed at Bruno's Windam. "It's not yours any more."

Bruno snarled again before he engaged his thrusters and flew at Turbine directly. The Launcher cannon came up and fired at Turbine, who flew to the side and had his own wings flare, the railguns hidden inside coming out and firing off their rounds at the black Windam. Bruno dodged the shots, but Turbine was far from done. He fired off a few more shots from the railguns, hitting Bruno's machine in a few places. Bruno glared at Turbine and fired the Launcher cannon again. Turbine, seeing the blast coming at him, knew he could dodge, but decided to mess with Bruno a bit more.

Turbine began to spin the beam scythe, the beam blade easily creating a field that deflected the blast. When the blast subsided, Turbine lowered the beam scythe and waved a finger tauntingly.

Bruno couldn't believe it. He, one of the Reich's best pilots, was being taunted by an AI!? It was unbelievable, it was unbearable, it was humiliating! "I WILL GET YOU!" he roared as he tried the Launcher cannon again, but Turbine was able to dodge it as he flew at Bruno himself. Turbine drew back the beam scythe as he and Bruno passed by each other.

The two machines came to a stop, and Bruno looked back, his red eye flashing brightly as he glared at the AI which dared to mock him.

"You... You dare to mock me?" he growled.

The AI turned back, its optics flashing. "Not like you," it stated calmly. "Because to be honest, what you just said to me reminded me all too much of my creator's attempt to sway me to the side of the Reich!" Those cyan optics flared brightly, making him growl as he gripped his controls. "And that... is something I will not bow to! No matter what you say, I choose to fight alongside the resistance of my own free will!"

. . .

Turbine's optics flashed as he gripped the scythe in his hands.

The black Windam lunged forward, its "Schwert Gewehr" 15.78m anti-ship sword coming free from its mounting as the pilot pulled it free.

The man's machine moved swiftly, and Turbine reacted with the uncanny quickness his nature as an AI granted him. He ducked the blade as the man swung it for his helm, the beam edge barely missing the tips of his V-fin. He stayed there for a brief second, then launched a fist out towards his opponent. The Windam was hit hard in the gut as he spun around and whipped out his left foot, slamming the heel into the torso armor and denting it as the Windam drew back, the free hand moving to the armor.

Turbine had to suppress a groan of pain as his shoulder joint ached, and he had to keep from grabbing at it.

He could feel the intense throbbing from where the scythe's pointed end had stabbed him, and he really didn't like the feeling. It was akin to a stabbing burning feeling, much like what he had experienced under Kenta's torment.

But if anything, he had learned a lot from that experience. Such as how to ignore such pain for a limited time.

And he was not about to let that go to waste. He lunged for the man's machine, his SEED-diluted emotions allowing him to think more rationally and more efficiently than just when he was not using SEED Mode.

"Since I told you my name, care to inform me what yours is?" Turbine asked, bringing his scythe up and down to block the Windam's blade as his opponent tried to cut him in half at the waste.

"Why should I?!" the man snapped.

"It's so I can remember the name of the one who made such a terror in Europe," Turbine remarked.

"Ah... Well, if that is the case, then the name is Bruno Zabiarov!" the man chortled. "And that was a lot of fun!"

"Not for those people," Turbine countered. "And for that, along with all those you killed, you will die."

Bruno cackled. "If you can, you piece of junk!"

Turbine wasn't even phased by that insult. "That won't work on me," he stated, unleashing a brutal swipe with the scythe in his hands. "I'm not even insulted by that."

For what it was worth, throwing insults like that around was a good way to test the limits of his patience, not to get him mad. That only happened when his Collective or their ideals and beliefs were threatened or insulted.

"Then what does set you off?" Bruno asked, a sneer filling his tone as he blocked the swipe with his sword.

"As if I'd tell you," Turbine said calmly. "The only thing that matters here is holding you back. And showing the world that even despite the persistent rumors, the invincible Ghost Squadrons can be beaten!"

Here Bruno burst out into laughter. "As if! Ghoul Squadron and the rest of our units cannot be beaten! Better men than you have tried, and I say men for a reason! An artificial intelligence cannot outthink a man!"

'Oh... that's not going to fly for long...' Turbine thought as he gripped his enemy's scythe as Bruno slashed with his sword to try and cleave Turbine in half once more. The AI crouched and sprang into the air, flipping over the sword and bringing the beam scythe down in a nasty axe cut. The Windam Reaper pulled back in the nick of time, its red monoeye flashing.

Turbine landed on his feet, crouching slightly as the two began to circle.

This was not going to be easy...

. . .

Keith watched as the fighting raged outside the city boundaries.

He could already see that Ghoul Squadron was putting up one hell of a fight, dealing damage to the mobile suits of the resistance as well as their vehicles.

But for what it was worth, every fighter they brought down did some damage to their machines. It was just taking a lot longer than he had expected. His plan was a good one, but it was also heavily flawed, he now realized. Despite planning to have mobile suits acting as artillery platforms to deal with Ghoul Squadron, the units of the infamous Ghost Squadron were much too agile, and they were evading the fire as they led his own forces into the middle of it.

This was a loss in the making, he could sense.

And it had to end before it got to the point where their forces were wiped out or whittled down to where they could easily be swept aside.

The commander glanced to where he could see Strider Squadron and Retribution Squad fighting against some of the other pilots, and they were perhaps the only ones to keep them at bay. It was not an easy fight, he noticed. For one thing, Turbine was having trouble actually dealing damage to the lead unit, which he knew was piloted by Bruno Zabiarov, the Ghoul himself. It was quite a surprise to see Turbine holding his own, but that was nothing compared to actually dealing damage to the man's machine. It was only a holding tactic.

Turbine's learning algorithm was his only advantage, and as it stood, right now he was unable to take advantage of it because of how hard Bruno was pressing down on him. Turbine's deft movements with the scythe were the only thing keeping him alive, and even then they weren't as good as he had thought, if the way he was starting to look around frantically was any indication. The AI's optics flared as he ducked a swipe of the anti-ship sword before he delivered a nasty right cross that knocked the weapon out of Bruno's hand, only to retreat as the "Agni" 320mm Hyper Impulse Cannon from a second Windam opened fire from the left shoulder, sending a plasma beam right for his location.

The white and black Gundam backed off by boosting into the air and tensing his frame before hurling the scythe like a boomerang right for the black and white Windam. The Windam's single optic flared brilliant red, and Bruno lashed out its right hand, catching the handle of his scythe. The machine lowered its scythe, and it then lunged, swinging the beam blade right for Turbine's chest!

Keith leaned forward a bit, pressing his hands to the window. "Turbine...!" he murmured, fear flooding his body.

Turbine, for his part, looked a bit panicked, if the way he suddenly jerked back was any indication. He pulled back just as the blade barely clipped his Phase Shift armor.

'Turbine... get outta there!' Keith pleaded mentally as he started to grow concerned for the AI he saw as a son. 'You're too important to die here...'

The Windam suddenly lunged forward a second time, this time intending to drive the pointed rear end of the shaft into his other shoulder, and Turbine turned and bolted, fleeing as fast as he could. Keith wasn't too surprised, as Turbine had done something similar in the simulations, but when the AI darted behind the nearest rock, he was gob-smacked.

It didn't seem like it was possible. Had Turbine really panicked and fled the battlefield?!

Or was there something else in the works?

He shifted his gaze away from Turbine's hiding spot to watch as Kevin's machine dueled another Ghoul's Windam. The former Blue Cosmos member's movements were harsh and swift, and he was clearly intent on taking one of them down before he died. Already his GM was suffering from scrapes and gashes that exposed vital systems, and one arm was not functioning as well as it should have. But despite that, he wasn't giving up. In fact, he was continuing to fight even as his unit continued to acquire new damages. It was as if he was possessed by something.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he observed Kevin's GM thrust a beam saber forward, intent on impaling the Ghoul's Windam.

But the machine crouched and dodged to the side, barely avoiding getting hit by the beam saber.

The Windam's pilot spun around and lashed out with a punch, driving his machine's fist into the side of the GM's faceplate, making the machine fly back and land on the ground, skidding as its damaged arm fell off. Kevin was barely able to get his mobile suit's feet under it, but he managed to stay somewhat balanced. He still held his beam saber in his grasp, allowing him to charge at the Windam before he thrust it forward.

Keith turned his gaze towards where Strider Squadron was doing battle in the air, their machines dancing and twirling around with the Windams like so many butterflies. The only saving grace for the Blasts was their much slimmer frames and profiles. He watched as Marcus opened fire on one Windam with his linear rifle, barely missing the Jet Striker's left wing as the Windam moved to the left. The pilot retaliated with a pair of thrown Stiletto armor penetrators, forcing the rebel ace to dodge one and swipe the other one away with a backhand of his machine's left fist.

But that had only been a distraction, as another Windam was coming up from behind him, only to be intercepted by Strider 4. Strider 4's machine was joined by Strider 7's, and the two began to duel with a ferocity that rivaled that of a pair of lions fighting a bear, only this bear was much deadlier than a normal bear was. With the way the Windam and Blasts were dueling, it was like a ballet in the air.

But it was far from it.

He turned his gaze back towards where George and Diane were clashing with a pair of Windams from Ghoul Squadron, and his eyes narrowed.

Were they even going to win this one...

Or lose?

. . .

Bruno grunted as he retaliated against the aerial mobile suit as it dove down, a beam saber held in its left hand and a beam rifle in its right. While this one did share the same basic frame design, the main difference was in its color scheme. Whereas the rest of the mobile suits capable of flight were dark gray and black, this one was painted black with blue accents on its frame. Its golden faceplate flashed as he caught the beam saber with the blade of his scythe and he swung it, forcing the mobile suit to back off with a burst from its thrusters.

And just as a pair of twin cannon shells came his way.

He jerked his head up as the alert rang in his ears and he saw the trajectory of the two shells, along with the location where they came from. He turned his Windam's head and zoomed in on the location the shells had come from. His eye narrowed as he studied the red machine with the twin cannons on its shoulders. "Hmm... So they have an artillery unit, do they?" he mused. He grinned as he turned to face the direction of the red mobile suit. "Well... let's see how well it can do against a machine such as mine!"

He crouched his mobile suit and gunned the throttles. A flash of thruster fire came from the Windam's back and he was pushed back in his seat by the acceleration. Bruno's grin turned into a sneer as he flew towards the location of the resistance artillery unit.

"GEORGE! INCOMING!" a female voice cried over the open channel.

"I see it!" the pilot of the artillery unit, George, responded. "Targeting..."

"You won't get a chance, rebel scum!" Bruno screamed, a look of pure excitement flooding his features. A manic grin crossed his face as he pushed the Windam Reaper to its limits, closing the gap rapidly.

The red-clad machine stood up, revealing itself to be based upon the mainstay machine for the resistance, he noted. But mounted on its back were two cannons, and they had just locked onto his position. One of the cannons adjusted ever so slightly and then both fired in sync, one round striking the ground right in front of his flight path. The second one... Well, if he hadn't jerked the controls, then he would be dead, he mused as he brought his machine back on its flight path. He held up his scythe, and the red blade flashed sinisterly in the dim light of the gathering clouds.

The female pilot suddenly pounced on him from above, her shriek reminding him all too much of a Valkyrie as he spun around and swung his blade, gashing her left arm off and causing her to retaliate with her beam rifle. The shots barely missed him and he grunted as he turned his machine to the right, his free hand going for the "Schwert Gewehr" on his left side. He pulled the blade free and gave it a spin with the hand holding it and adopting an intimidating fighting stance.

Bruno's sneer became downright sadistic as his red eye flashed brightly. "Now... little bitch... you're going to pay for interrupting my hunt!" he chortled, lunging for the resistance mobile suit.

. . .

Turbine was scared.

There was no doubt about it.

He just couldn't fight in this state.

The enemy mobile suit had almost killed him.

And the intent had been almost tangible to him.

It reminded him all too much of his former creator and the images he had had of her. The way the wires crawled through her flesh, fused her to her ship, and made her seem all the more demonic... it sent shivers throughout his entire chassis and he shuddered, curling into a ball as he tried to drive the images back.

It didn't make any sense why he would be feeling this way. Why was he getting these images and why were they scaring him so much?!

He let out a small whimper as he curled tighter, trying to block out the sounds of combat.

But it was no use. He could have just turned off his audio receptors, but that thought didn't even cross his processor. So he just sat there, huddling in a ball, trying to ignore the sounds of combat and to drive those terrifying images from his processors.

'Get a grip!' he thought. 'You're in the middle of a battle! Your creator is not here, so you shouldn't be freaking out!'

Slowly he lowered his hands from his audio receptors, only to flinch as an explosion from a beam rifle shot striking the ground behind him reached his hearing. What was happening with him?!

The AI looked up slowly, trying to get a better sense of his bearings. He knew he was hiding behind some rocks, and that there was a battle raging, but there was not much else he knew, aside from that there was Bruno out there still clashing with his unit and-

A sudden shriek reached his COMMs and he snapped his helm up fully as he knew that voice.

Diane. He slowly got to his feet, his entire chassis and frame shaking in his terror as he ever so slightly peeked around the rock he was hiding behind.

Turbine was shocked to see that Diane and George were both dueling this man, and by the looks of things, they weren't holding their own so well. Mostly because of the fact that Diane had lost her machine's left arm and George was struggling to keep his machine from being impaled by that beam scythe. The way he was moving was indicative of someone panicked and trying to stay alive against a man who was not above killing a child.

Turbine froze at that thought.

He shakily glanced back at the city behind the fight, and he could see the buildings, with their lights gleaming and the populace going about their daily lives, the children clinging to their parents as they went to work, the store, doctor's appointments, or dropped them off at school or picked them up. The faces of those innocent little kids being torn away by the deaths of their families or the cold fingers of death wielded by the Atlantian Reich...

That was it.

He slowly clenched his servos into fists, and he glanced back at Bruno's Windam.

This was not going to happen.

Not while he lived!

He turned and began to plan.

. . .

The Windams were putting up one hell of a fight. Even with one downed and another with an arm missing, the pilots were showing their true caliber as aces of the Atlantian Reich.

So far over one hundred resistance mobile suits and vehicles had been decimated, along with a number of soldiers and infantry. And the numbers were only climbing. The reason it wasn't even worse was because of the efforts of the resistance's own aces, which was saying something. With eleven ace pilots on each side, it should have been a matched fight. But Ghoul Squadron was proving to be more competent than Keith had expected.

And that worried him.

He shot a glance to where Kevin was still fighting, which was a big surprise. With the damage his machine had taken, he should have been defeated easily. But he was not giving up, and in fact he was hounding the Windam he was fighting, keeping himself close to do some damage, but not enough to where he could get hit even worse. So maybe Kevin wasn't as bad a pilot as he had anticipated.

He took a chance to look over where George and Diane were fighting and he had to admit they weren't doing so good, even though there were two of them against Bruno. He could also see Strider Squadron doing their best to keep the other aces at bay, relying on their Blasts to stay well above the flight ceiling of the Jet Windams. But even then it was not as easy as it seemed given the fact that they were hard pressed to stay above the range of their beam rifles as well. The Blast was the only machine that was even capable of full flight to a higher flight ceiling, and it was only a prototype.

"Sir, we've got movement!" one of the men manning the perimeter cameras exclaimed.

"What?" Keith demanded, looking at him.

The man turned in his seat, fear coloring his features. "There's enemy reinforcements inbound!" he cried.

"What?!" Keith was horrified.

That was bad news.

If they didn't defeat Ghoul Squadron here, then there was no way they could hold off the reinforcements.

He gritted his teeth.

What was he gonna do...?

"Hold it! We got more movement! Something's moving in fast from..." a woman remarked, narrowing her eyes as she studied the screen before her. "It's Turbine!"

The AI's name caught his attention and he ran over. "What's he doing?" he asked.

"No clue sir, but he's making a beeline for the Windam fighting Diane and George!" she exclaimed.

. . .

Turbine's thrusters roared as he approached the fight between Bruno and his two best friends.

Despite the terror pounding in his chest, he was not about to let them die on his watch. If they died... hell, if anyone here died, then the city would be open to being destroyed. And he was not about to let any more children fall victim to the Reich's sick experimentations!

Within his mind's eye, the cyan seed fell and it burst in a flash of light with a red ring around it. His emotions dulled as his programming kicked in, letting him see the battlefield with much clearer optics. He could already see the Windam Reaper getting closer to Diane and George, only kept at bay by the wrath with which Diane fought him, diving and weaving like a hummingbird gathering nectar from flowers. Each blow she dealt was one blow that could either incapacitate or kill the man.

But Turbine was not intent on killing for the moment. He just needed to do something to force him to back off and retreat.

He aimed his right arm at the Windam and he braked hard, landing on the ground and cutting his thrusters. He skidded to a stop and the launcher extended up from his forearm.

. . .

Bruno cackled as he swiped his scythe, barely taking off the flying mobile suit's head. He placed his scythe down on the ground as he tossed aside his damaged anti-ship sword before grasping his signature weapon and spinning it before giving a wide sweep with the blade.

The red mobile suit dodged to the side as the aerial machine flew upwards to try and escape bisection. He just caught the right arm of the red mobile suit and it collapsed from the force of the blow, the right arm falling limply against its side. He cackled as he brought the blade up high, lightning flashing as rain began to fall.

"Say good bye, rebel scum!" he crowed.

Only for something to latch onto his mobile suit's back...

And then he was yanked backwards.

HARD.

Bruno cried out as he felt his machine's balance give out as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But it was no use.

His Windam fell flat on its back as the mystery object was recalled.

His adrenaline surge began to die off and he shook his head, regaining his senses as he slowly checked the sensors on his machine.

Behind him he could detect the machine of the AI that he had first fought against. Using his rear cameras, he could see its right arm was raised and a large grappling hook was reeling itself back into the forearm-mounted launcher before lowering back into the forearm. The machine's optics were glowing a bit brighter as it spoke again. "No more!" it hissed over his COMMs. "I won't let you get into that damn city! Not while I still live!"

Bruno grunted as he made to push his machine to its feet. He could already sense the incoming Windams of his squad mates, each of them bearing some form of damage from the fight against the rebels, including that damn AI. He heard the heavy thuds as they touched down, one of them kneeling to help his commander to his feet. Bruno gratefully accepted the hand and his Windam was hauled off its back and to its feet. He turned to look at the AI as the other units of the resistance came around, most of the helicopters having retreated from the mobile suit battles. A few remaining helicopters hovered just behind the mobile suits that remained as they assembled, forming a defensive line in front of the squadron.

One of the strange aerial mobile suits, holding a three-barreled linear rifle, pointed its main weapon at Bruno as the other machines armed their own long-range weapons. The AI drew out a pair of beam pistols and pointed them at the Windams, and slowly, a number of other soldiers pointed their guns at them as well.

Bruno couldn't help but laugh.

He had been outplayed by the resistance. "Well, I will admit, that was a cunning move!" he chortled. "You played your hand well! But... you suffered severe losses in this fight." He leered at all of them, his red eye flashing as he slid his eye patch back down before donning his helmet once more. "That means you're down a significant number of pilots. The only question is... can you hold for even longer next time?"

He didn't even give them a chance to answer as the eleven Windams took off, blasting back over the slowly stopping reinforcements. Already the signal had been sent to establish a perimeter not too far from the mountain where the city resided.

And for what it was worth, that battle was only the first stage of the siege.

And Bruno was looking forward to the next fight.

. . .

Thunder rumbled softly before a loud crack tore open the night sky, letting Keith see the makeshift camp of the enemy far below the mountain as lightning cast its brilliance down on the earth below.

His eyes narrowed as he stood with his arms crossed, frowning as he studied the lights of the tents and vehicles as they moved around, only broken up by the flashlights of the personnel as they worked.

From his vantage point in the central tower in the city, it made sense he'd have a good view. Already he could also see the lights of the rest of the resistance forces as they started to work on establishing defensive lines to keep the Atlantians from breaching the mountain city. The entrance was fairly obvious, as it was a huge tunnel carved into the mountainside, guarded by only metal barricade doors painted to look like rocks. With the doors having opened to let other vehicles out, the Atlantians now had a clear shortcut into the center of the city.

The only saving grace was the fact that it was higher up than on ground level alone. So to get up there would require a mobile suit or a path carved into the mountainside. And there was such a path, crude as it was. Keith had to admit, while it had been a good idea at the time, it was also now a potential danger to the city's safety, and not just for the tactical and strategic reasons the city represented. It was also a danger for the populace that had been evacuated from the original base when he triggered the explosives that collapsed it.

He didn't doubt that Ghoul Squadron would slaughter everyone within the city perimeter. And that was something he was determined to prevent at all costs.

Their first battle had been a victory, but it came at a steep cost in skilled pilots and valuable machines. The resistance, while large, could only spare so many people as the majority of its members were actually not supposed to be fighting, despite the required training meant for everyone. While a whole two thirds of the populace were now on their side, those two thirds were broken down even further.

There were the noncombatants which consisted of all industrial, civilian, and financial workers. Those people were in charge of maintaining the communications lines, manufacturing the necessary equipment for war, running the banks that they had managed to sway to their side, along with educating the next generation and helping those who were wounded or dying due to medical negligence carried out by the Atlantian Reich. Their numbers were just over a third in total.

The second group consisted of the military logistical network. Those were the individuals in charge of delivering supplies, oftentimes using the Atlantian Reich's own networks against them, and sometimes even outright sabotaging Atlantian railways and other means of delivering supplies. Those very same people were even engaged in construction of secret railways, using camouflage to hide their work and resuming it once Atlanian soldiers and civilians had passed them by. They made up the second third of the resistance's members.

The last group were the actual combatants themselves. Those were the pilots, soldiers, tankers, sailors, mobile suit pilots, etc. who were on the front lines, as well as the irregular units being activated in other countries under the control of the Atlantians, such as the USSA or in occupied Eurasia. (There were even rumors that some in the Republic of East Asia were seeking to gain independence from their own government and to establish a new union in place of the Atlantic Federation puppet government of LOGOs.) Those were the people who were going to spearhead the revolution, and he knew that his base was one of those involved. They made up the last third of the resistance.

Then there was the Atlantian Reich itself. Altogether, its remaining members made up only a third of the country, but the majority of them were soldiers, and while they still possessed a formidable logistics network, it was only a matter of time before the United States and their allied governments took back that network and started to use it themselves.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.

'Commander... I wish you were able to take back command...' he thought.

But Commander Ibarra was still down with his wounds, which would take months, if not several years, to fully heal from.

He glanced up, looking out at the base beneath the city's mountain fortress once more.

'Xen... Why did you do this...?' he thought. 'What made you turn to the Reich to develop your AIs? And... what is your real endgame here...?'

Xen's goals were still a mystery, but he did know that they involved developing an Ultimate Artificial Intelligence program. And that was something he had to prevent...

Well, more like defeat now. Everything she had said that day she attacked their original base indicated that she was already well into developing said AI. And it worried him to no end.

Would the resistance and Turbine actually be able to defeat this new AI? He had no answer to that.

No one did.