Gundam Wing: Destiny's Call

by operation meteor

Sequel to Journey to a New Battlefield. It's been two years since the Bloody Valentine War and tensions are rising. When a shadowy group attacks the colony of Armory One, a certain Gundam pilot takes to the battlefield once again. However, little to his knowledge, some old friends are on a journey to his new world. M for language and violence (again, it's war. What do you expect?)

33. Chapter 33

Author's Notes: Hello there! So, I've been getting questions about what my plans regarding Gundam Seed Freedom and this fic series are, so I figured I'd use these author's notes to give an answer. Way back when I first started planning my trilogy, the movie wasn't even an idea on the drawing board; yeah, that's how long I've been working on this. Feel old yet? I sure do, and turning 35 just a few days ago isn't really helping!

Anyway, getting back on track, my plan's still the same; Journey to a New Battlefield, Destiny's Call, and part three of the trilogy which will basically my version of Endless Waltz. I don't plan on writing for this series beyond that point, but Gundam Seed Freedom will still be part of this crossover's continuity. Confused yet? Titanic X, the author who's been writing the tie-in fic Gundam Wing: The Phoenix Rising will be writing this continuity's version of Gundam Seed Freedom. Timeline-wise, it'll be taking place after part three of my trilogy's concluded. I will have some involvement, mostly on the technical side of things such as a few new mobile suit designs and a scene tweak or two, but that's basically it. That's all still a long way off for now, but consider it something to look forward to! Speaking of Titanic X's tie-in, if you haven't read it yet, then you're going to be quite confused about a ship and mobile suits that show up in this chapter, along with another one that's going to have a part to play in the following chapter, so I would recommend catching up on it if you haven't already.

Only one song for this chapter: "Broken English" by SCHAFT. There's a reason why I used lines from it in the preview section of the previous chapter.

Enjoy!

Episode Thirty-Three: A Dirge For The City Of Light

While the battle had ended some time ago, Athrun and the rest of the pilots flying nuclear-powered mobile suits had remained airborne until the Minerva and the battered fleet were well beyond Iceland as a precaution. The impromptu combat air patrol had given the tired young man some much needed space to breathe and think. His cockpit reeked of sweat and his body felt heavier than a sack of stones, but odor and weariness were not presently at the forefront of Athrun's mind. Despite his fatigue and desperate need of a shower and rest, Athrun was focused on the task at hand; compiling every scrap of data the Destiny had recorded on the enemy's new weapons and downloading it to a drive. The action would no doubt raise eyebrows the next time one of the Destiny's assigned technicians did systems checks during maintenance, but Athrun wasn't worried about that right now.

Pilots are allowed to extract data for after-action review anyway, he reassured himself, and as far as ZAFT's concerned, this is just for that.

How much that would hold up under scrutiny was another matter.

When Meyrin eventually signaled him, Athrun wasted no time in lining up his landing approach. Descending towards the Minerva, he winced as he got a chance to see the warship's battle damage up close. It was a testament to the design's toughness that she'd held up as well as she did, but there was no denying that the Minerva had taken a beating.

Not as bad as during Operation: Angel Down, he thought, but she'll still be out of action for a bit.

Guiding the Destiny into its berth, Athrun checked to make sure that the data drive had finished its download before extracting it and powering down the mobile suit. Standing up and exiting the cockpit, he forced his exhausted legs forward. Climbing down the access ladder, Athrun headed straight for the Altron Custom, which had landed before the Destiny. He caught sight of Wufei standing atop the maintenance catwalk just outside his Gundam's cockpit, looking up at the fearsome machine's face in thought.

"Hey!" Athrun called out, "Wufei! Get down here, we need to talk."

The Gundam pilot arched an eyebrow before casting his gaze across the hangar. Following, Athrun saw that Wufei was looking at Lunamaria's GOUF Bombardier, his eyes lingering on the machine for a moment before he climbed down to the hangar floor.

"What is it?" he eventually asked.

Athrun furtively looked around the hangar before gesturing towards the door to the pilots' ready room. "Not out here."

Wufei eyed him curiously for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

Athrun took the lead, setting a brisk pace across the hangar. When they reached their destination, Athrun was relieved to find it empty. That wouldn't last long; Rey had been queued up to land after him.

"You can contact the other Gundam pilots," Athrun said.

It wasn't a question, and Wufei didn't treat it like one, "I can. What of it?"

Athrun pressed the data drive into Wufei's hand. "Download this and send it all to them. These Mobile Dolls, the dreadnought; ZAFT's not equipped to take them on by themselves. Today proved that."

Wufei surprised him with a bitter chuckle as he pocketed the drive. "It did. Good timing: I was going to send my own combat data their way later. This will help.'

Athrun let out a relieved exhalation. "Thanks. I'd do it myself, but…"

"Your communications are being monitored," Wufei matter-of-factly finished for him, "I'm the only independent that can get the message out without risking a hack."

"Pretty much," Athrun admitted, "I'll need you to signal them again once we have a plan for taking the dreadnought down. You up for that?"

"Assuming Heero doesn't come up with a plan once he gets the data and acts first, sure," Wufei answered, "I wouldn't be surprised if he responds to my message before you've woken up."

Athrun blinked. "Huh?"

Wufei rolled his eyes before heading for the door. "Get some sleep, Athrun. You look like shit."

Athrun wouldn't argue, but he couldn't resist a parting shot. "Look who's talking."

"Never said I didn't," Wufei deadpanned.

The door slid open just before Wufei reached it, and Rey stepped inside. Athrun's fellow FAITH operative eyed the Gundam pilot as Wufei went back out into the hangar before turning back to his comrade.

"What did I miss?" the blond asked.

Athrun shook his head, then started to change out of his flight suit. "Nothing big. Think he just forgot something."

Rey looked at Athrun for a moment before shrugging. "Whatever. Today was a mess."

Athrun looked down and let out an exhausted sigh. "It was."

Somber silence fell for a few seconds before Rey spoke again. "Heine… wasn't expecting him to go down."

Athrun closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Manuel and Larissa, too… always hurts the most when it's the comrades you see every day."

"Every day… but no longer," Rey murmured, "Then the others… so many lost today. Casualty projections were high, but not this high."

Athrun was already thinking ahead. "ZAFT will be on the backfoot now. Not what the Chairman was intending."

"Definitely not," Rey concurred with a distant, almost distracted look in his eyes, "The Supreme Council will have an earful for him at least. Then there's the wider electorate… it'll take more than songs from Lacus Clyne to soothe them over this. The vision… will it survive?"

Athrun's eyes narrowed at those final remarks. "What vision?"

He saw Rey's face pale slightly before his comrade quickly turned away. "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm tired."

It was an obvious dodge, but Athrun let it slide for now; he could take another crack at it later. "Right. Same here."

"Rest up while you can," Rey advised, "With that dreadnought now on the loose, we'll probably be called to fight it again soon enough."

Sooner than you might think, Athrun mused, Wufei, don't let me down.

….

It wasn't often that Heero would cut off a training session right in the middle of the action, but the urgent message he'd received from Wufei combined with a near-simultaneous summon to the bridge from Murrue were valid reasons to do so. Forwarding the contents of Wufei's message to his fiancé, Heero wasted no time in rushing to the bridge. When he arrived, he found that the main monitor was set up for a split-screen video feed. The top half of the screen was set to the bridge of the Dominion, showing Natarle, Eric and Shemei Bristow, Mu La Flaga, and Quatre all huddled together to fit in the camera's view. Meanwhile, the bottom half was linked to Cagalli's office, with both the Orb Union's Chief Representative and her trusted right-hand man Kisaka on screen. As Murrue quickly filled Heero in on recent developments, his mind began racing, already trying to plot out the next moves.

I figured ZAFT's assault on Heaven's Base would be bloody, he thought, but I didn't anticipate them being decisively repulsed. With them falling back, the Atlantic Federation now has the initiative in that part of the world. Looks like they're taking advantage of it, too. Their new air dreadnought and Mobile Dolls can do a lot of damage, but what's the target? Are they heading for Gibraltar, or is there another objective in mind? Then there's the L4 situation… why'd Durandal have to catch on to what DaCosta's doing out there now of all times? How long can our expedition stay one step ahead of the hounds?

Sibylle Gardinier, Terminal's Eurasian Federation liaison, provided additional context. "Our fleet units in the Atlantic have reported that the enemy dreadnought's present course will take her over the British Isles. That remains Atlantic Federation territory, though the unrest that's taken over North America has begun spilling over there recently. It's possible that she intends to link up with additional units before launching an assault on the continent."

"Which part of the continent, though?" Murrue asked, "There's no shortage of targets."

Sibylle sighed. "That's difficult to say. Gibraltar's an obvious option; with ZAFT's fleet still on its way home, the air dreadnought's easily outpacing them, so it could arrive there and attack well before any reinforcements could show up. ZAFT's eastern European base, Diocuia, is another option, though it would take longer to reach and require crossing a rather large stretch of hostile territory. However, it's quite possible that the enemy will deploy her against Eurasian Federation forces or urban centers, like they did with the Destroys."

"Which could be much easier targets than Gibraltar," Heero remarked, "depending on which one they go for."

"There may be a way to narrow that down," Natarle chimed in, "Major Gardinier, what's the present status of the Atlantic Federation's invasion efforts?"

"Their surviving forces in central Europe have been routed," Sibylle reported, "The only major concentration remaining on the continent is in northern France. In addition to holding their beachhead, they've primarily been focused on maintaining their siege of Paris. We've been gathering forces for an eventual counteroffensive in the region, but despite the enemy's supply problems stemming from your raid on their staging bases in the British Isles, their positions are dug in and well-fortified. Breaking those lines will be a challenging prospect."

Heero saw Murrue's brow furrow. "Paris holding out against the Atlantic Federation onslaught since the start of the invasion turned the city into a symbol of defiance and resolve… one that the enemy would probably like nothing more than to shatter. If the dreadnought's deployed against the Eurasian Federation rather than ZAFT, they could decide to make an example of the city, as they did with the Destroy at Berlin and tried to do at other prominent cities."

"It would fit their established playbook," Eric noted, "Especially when it comes to testing new weapons."

"We don't know for sure what they'll go for, though," Shemei pointed out, "They could just be after ZAFT this time."

"If that were the case, why not pursue ZAFT's fleet?" Quatre chimed in, "ZAFT's armada was severely weakened in the Heaven's Base assault. If ZAFT remained the dreadnought's target immediately after the battle, it would honestly make more sense to have the ship and its Mobile Dolls continue attacking the fleet. It could use its missiles to bombard the survivors from a distance with impunity; even if any of ZAFT's mobile suits got through the Mobile Doll screen, they still couldn't penetrate the positron deflectors. The fact that the Atlantic Federation immediately had their dreadnought set a course for Europe once ZAFT's fleet withdrew suggests to me that the Eurasian Federation is their target."

"Yeah, that's my read on this, too," La Flaga said, "Call it a gut feeling."

Heero turned to Sibylle. "If that is the case, the Eurasian Federation forces aren't equipped to deal with a threat like this on their own."

Sibylle reluctantly concurred. "Based on preliminary review of the data your friends sent, we could probably stall the Mobile Dolls only through material saturation; mass barrages of anti-air missiles and the like. Even that's not a guarantee going by how effective they were against ZAFT's experienced troops. Then there's the dreadnought itself. Assuming we could somehow punch through the Mobile Doll screen, I don't know how we would even begin to tackle the positron reflectors."

Murrue looked at Heero. "They'd need heavy firepower to stand a chance."

Heero nodded, understanding what she was getting at as a plan began forming in his mind. "Yeah… and from more than one source."

"We obviously have to get involved," Natarle argued, "but we're in a precarious situation. Not only to do we need to respond to this new threat, but ZAFT is still a danger to us out here and up in space. Their Carpentaria forces remain intact, and it sounds like their space forces are finally beginning to move against our orbital assets."

"Eric, what's the situation at L4?" Murrue asked.

Eric shook her head. "From what DaCosta was able to get out, not good. His scouts tagged at least three Nazca-class destroyers closing in on Mendel, and there could be more on the way. The Epicurus isn't equipped to deal with even that small force; two of its mobile suits are dedicated stealth recon units, and the other four are old GuAIZs. They aren't bad machines, and their pilots are solid, but those are no longer cutting-edge units in this day and age. DaCosta has the Epicurus playing hide-and-seek until they get a window for breaking out of the L4 debris field."

"We need to get them back to us safely," Shemei said, "They've been sending data, but DaCosta's updates also indicate that they've recovered invaluable physical evidence regarding Durandal's time at L4. We lose DaCosta's team, we can kiss that evidence goodbye."

"What's the Desert Tiger's play up there?" asked La Flaga, "He's closer to the action than us."

Eric took a deep breath. "He's already ordered the Eternal to launch. They're moving to rendezvous as we speak, but with the distance involved, it'll take time."

"And the Eternal will be running the gauntlet of ZAFT and Earth Alliance patrols," Murrue remarked, shaking her head, "Waltfeld's good, but I doubt even he could avoid being spotted for long up there."

"And Lacus will be with him," Natarle added, "Once the Eternal has been tagged by hostile patrols, reinforcements will be sent after her. You can count on that."

"Especially from ZAFT," Heero said, his eyes narrowing, "Durandal's already made one attempt on her life in this war. He won't miss the chance to take another shot now that she's out in the open."

Murrue nodded. "My thoughts exactly. We have twin crises on our hands, and both require a swift response."

"Our options are limited, though," Natarle pointed out, "I'm not saying we shouldn't take action, but we don't have the freedom we possessed earlier in the war. Our force is an invaluable part of Orb's defense, especially in this critical time for Cagalli's government. Move too many of our assets away, and our enemies could be emboldened to strike."

"Which means sending the right assets to the right hotspots," Eric said, "I have a plan… well, more the outline of one."

Murrue gestured broadly. "We're all ears."

"First, the situation up in space," Eric began, "Now that Cagalli's back in power, Orb's rebuilt mass driver is at our disposal. Morgenroete has been developing a series of boosters designed to launch mobile suits into space using the mass driver. Erica Simmons has already set aside a couple for Terminal's use. We can get at least two of our Gundams into orbit in no time."

"One should be the Freedom," Murrue suggested, "It's designed to work with the Eternal anyway. Besides, Kira will insist on it once he learns that Lacus is in danger. We wouldn't be able to stop him from heading up there even if we wanted to. Best he gets up there to protect her so that he's not worrying about her while he's stuck down here."

Heero concurred. "He's a good pick. Deathscythe Omega should be the other. Having a stealth Gundam could help them turn the tables on their pursuers. Knowing Duo, he'll find a way to wreak plenty of havoc."

Eric chuckled. "The kind of havoc that you Gundam pilots seem to specialize in. It's great for giving our enemies headaches."

"And Durandal has more than earned another headache from us," Shemei quipped with a wink.

"Two Gundams is probably all we reasonably could send up there," La Flaga noted, "The Eternal is already running close to packed, especially since she wouldn't be leaving the asteroid base without taking those new prototypes with her. Combine that with her dedicated defenders and the stolen Gaia, and she's not going to have a whole lot of leftover hangar space."

Murrue nodded. "I'd prefer to send more, but we still need to help out Europe and retain enough here for defense. Two will have to do."

"I'll lead the Europe team," Heero volunteered, "We'll need Wing Zero Albion's firepower to take on the dreadnought."

"And you'll need people watching your back as you charge and line up the shot," Shemei added, "I'm coming with you."

Heero gave his former adversary a small smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Take the Wraiths with you," Natarle ordered, "A stealth missile volley from all three would be useful for breaking up the Mobile Doll formations."

"Good thinking," said Heero.

"What about Quatre and Trowa?" Murrue asked.

Heero considered it carefully. "That'd leave only GuAIZ Werewolf and Tallgeese Kai as dedicated defense for the Dominion, but Quatre and Trowa are experienced in fighting Mobile Dolls. We need every pilot with that kind of knowledge for this operation."

"If it's necessary, I'm fine with letting them go," Natarle offered, "Dominion has been running her patrols underwater, just like the Archangel, and we've been operating in cooperation with the Chimaera and Orb Union naval forces since Cagalli's restoration. I don't like sending all of my ship's Gundams away, but they'll be needed against this new threat."

"You can just hide the ship behind me," La Flaga chimed in with a cheeky grin.

Natarle rolled her eyes. "It'd fit behind your ego alone, never mind the Tallgeese Kai."

"Heero, take Yzak and Dearka with you, too," Murrue ordered, "You'll need the extra protection and firepower."

Heero didn't want to argue, but he had concerns. "What about the Archangel? All you'll have left for combat air patrol are the two Murasames and Strike Rouge."

Murrue smiled, no doubt well aware of Heero's real worry; leaving her with so little protection. "We'll be fine back here, Heero. Like Natarle said, we're mostly operating underwater, so we'll be keeping a low profile. Besides, this is part of why you've been training Shinn on the Strike Rouge, isn't it? Trust him, Heero. I do."

Heero eventually nodded in concession. "Alright. Still… be careful."

"I'm the one who should be telling you that," Murrue countered with a smirk, "You're the one constantly flying into the most dangerous situations you can find."

Heero chuckled. "That's fair."

Murrue then turned to Major Gardinier. "Get a message to your superiors; I need them to designate a point of contact for our strike team to work with. We're in a rush, so unfortunately Heero and the others will have to hammer out the details in-flight."

Sibylle curtly nodded. "Understood."

"Have them forward a request to the North American resistance, too," Heero added, "If they have any assets or allies in outer space that can help our people at L4, we need them to get out there ASAP. Also, if they have anything that can assist with taking on the dreadnought, we won't turn it down."

"Consider it done," Sibylle assured him.

"Get to your Gundam, Heero," Murrue said, "I'll sound the alert for the others, and Natarle will do the same on her end."

"Roger that," Heero acknowledged before swiftly turning around and heading for the exit.

….

"Come on, come on," Kira muttered as he looked down the length of the mass driver, apprehension driving him crazy, "We're wasting time!"

"Easy there," Duo's admonishing voice came over the cockpit speakers, "I get where you're coming from, but we won't do your girlfriend any good if the launch goes wrong. Sit tight and let the professionals do their jobs. We should be getting the greenlight any minute now."

Kira forced himself to take a deep breath. "Right. Sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Duo replied, "Like I said, I get it. I know a thing or two about rushing off to save the girl. It's a bit different when you need to reach escape velocity first, though. Things go bad here, and the only thing that'll be heading up to Lacus is bits of hot metal."

Kira winced at the mental image. "Yeah."

Locked into specialized launch platforms, Freedom in front of Deathscythe Omega, the two Gundams and their pilots were waiting for the mass driver's crew to finish the final safety checks. Both mobile suits were equipped with thruster packs as large as the Gundams themselves, the rows of rockets on each side set to activate once they reached a specific altitude. While Erica Simmons had assured them that the test launches had gone off without a hitch, Kira was still rather nervous about what was coming. It had been one thing in the last war to ride up into space inside a warship; it was quite another to get flung up there with his mobile suit taking the full brunt of the acceleration forces.

"So, you and Lacus," Duo continued, and from his tone Kira could have sworn the Gundam pilot was smirking, "Been a bit since you two last saw each other, right? Got a plan for what happens after you play the heroic white knight for up there? Bet she'll be swooning the moment you land on the Eternal!"

Kira felt his face swiftly heat up. "There won't be time for that sort of thing!"

"Oh, come on," Duo pressed, "Once the fighting dies down and you two get a chance to be alone, she's not just going say 'hi, how's it going' and leave it there! Chicks love it when handsome mobile suit pilots save their lives, really gets the romantic juices going if you know what I mean. You gotta be ready for that, Kira!"

"Lacus… isn't that type of girl," Kira insisted.

"It ain't about what 'type' of girl she is," Duo argued, "It's about the situation. Adrenaline's one hell of a drug, and it goes into overdrive when you're in danger. Even someone like your sweet songstress isn't immune to it. You flying in like the hero you are to save the day is going to have an effect, wink wink nudge nudge!"

"Why did they pick you to be my backup here?" Kira groaned.

Duo chuckled. "Hey, you'll be thanking me later, and not just for helping you save Lacus! I'll wingman for you once we meet up with your girlfriend. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"I don't know about that…" Kira muttered.

He was mercifully spared having to continue this awkward conversation by a chime from his console indicating an incoming transmission on a separate channel, and Murrue's face appeared on the monitor a second later. "Kira, I just got an update from Control; they're almost ready to send you two up. How are things on your end?"

"Freedom's good to go," Kira declared eagerly, "and so am I."

Murrue smiled. "I figured as much. Once you reach orbit, switch over to the frequency Eric provided earlier. That'll get you into our orbital relay network, and you'll be able to contact the Eternal to get her updated position and course. She's already on her way to L4, so link up with her as quickly as you can. Do everything in your power to avoid contact with ZAFT patrols; we want your presence in outer space to be a surprise for whatever force they send after the Eternal."

Kira nodded. "Understood."

Murrue took a deep breath. "Kira… be careful up there. According to Eric, ZAFT considers you and the Freedom to be nearly as much of a priority target now as the Eternal herself. Once they've confirmed you're back with the Eternal, they'll almost certainly devote additional reinforcements to the pursuit. We have our hands full down here between defending Orb and the new dreadnought crisis, so we won't be able to send any backup for a while. Our new friends indicate they have resources in orbit, but whether or not they'll be able to lend you any assistance up there is an open question. Like it or not, assume you and Duo are the only reinforcements the Eternal's getting anytime soon. I'm sorry."

Kira smiled and shook his head. "It's alright, Captain Ramius. I'm just glad you're letting me go up there."

"It's the least I can do for you," Murrue replied, "Take care of yourself, Kira. Oh, and give Lacus my regards. I know these are hardly ideal circumstances for your reunion, but… well, make the most of it. I'm sure she can't wait to see you."

Kira felt his heartbeat pick up slightly at that. "Yeah… same here. I will, and you guys be careful, too."

"We will," Murrue reassured him before giving a confident grin, "Now, get up there and keep Lacus safe, Kira! We're all counting on you. Archangel, out."

No sooner had Murrue's image and voice faded when another chime sounded, followed shortly by a new voice, this one male. "Freedom, Deathscythe Omega, this is Control. Final safety checks are complete. Initiating launch sequence."

"Copy that," Kira acknowledged.

"Alright!" Duo cheered, "Let's get this show on the road!"

Hang on, Lacus, Kira thought as a timer appeared in the lower left corner of his display, I'm coming to save you.

Please, just hold out until I can get to you!"

….

Sitting behind the desk in his private office aboard Sovereign, Colonel Nazara let out an exasperated sigh as he studied the latest report on the ship's engine issues. "Well, I suppose it's to be expected. We never got to run her through a proper shakedown cruise. It could be worse; we're only a little bit behind schedule."

With the very existence of the Project: Reaper dreadnoughts being one of the Atlantic Federation's most carefully guarded secrets, extreme measures had been taken to keep them out of the limelight until they could be deployed against ZAFT for maximum surprise and devastation. Those measures had paid off spectacularly at the Battle of Heaven's Base, with ZAFT being completely unprepared for the leviathan's appearance and lacking any suitable countermeasure. However, the incredible battlefield success Sovereign had enjoyed in her debut was marred afterwards by fluctuations and malfunctions in her engines, necessitating her cruising at reduced speed towards the British Isles while those issues were addressed. The focus on redundancy in the ship's design was paying off, for despite the technical problems she was in no danger of falling from the sky or even needing to return to her Icelandic cradle. Nazara had been repeatedly assured by the vessel's Chief Engineer that everything would be properly resolved before Sovereign reached her next battlefield, and while the masked Colonel was somewhat frustrated with the current pace of progress, he had no real reason to doubt the ship's crew considering the impressive performance they'd put in earlier during the battle. Still, these issues would have already been addressed had the ship been taken through proper shakedown flights beforehand.

Perhaps we can risk those with the half-sister, Nazara mused as he leaned back in his chair, since her cradle is on the dark side of Luna. It would be easier to launch and run her through trials without ZAFT spotting her; we've kept their pesky patrols clear of the region so far. Besides, now that Sovereign has launched, the cat's out of the bag. ZAFT will be on the lookout for more of her kind… though whether they'll expect the next one to appear in outer space rather than on Earth is the million-dollar question.

Nazara shook his head after a moment; he could worry about Harbinger at another time. Switching to another report, he took a second to review the losses suffered by Sovereign's Mobile Dolls in the last battle. He had somewhat mixed feelings on the matter. Two of the nuclear-powered Guntram models and seven of the battery-powered Krähe units had gone down in the Iceland engagement, leaving Sovereign with a total of 51 units remaining. Apart from Nosferatu Dracul and the most advanced of the Mobile Dolls, Huginn and Muninn, that left 10 Guntrams and 38 Krähes for Operation: Scourge. The performance of the Mobile Dolls at Heaven's Base had been incredible, but the masked Colonel was under no illusions. ZAFT had been completely unprepared for the Atlantic Federation's new weapons, but word would undoubtedly spread quickly to the rest of the worlds just what had happened. While Nazara was confident that his Mobile Dolls and Sovereign remained superior to anything in the Eurasian Federation's arsenal, the next operation would be taking place over their home territory, which meant that Moscow would be throwing everything they had at the attackers. Sheer weight of numbers would eventually begin taking their toll on the Mobile Dolls, no matter how inhumanly agile their programming made them.

Fortunately, there was already a plan in place to at least mitigate the attritional factor. Sovereign's course towards the British Isles was not just out of convenience; the aerial dreadnought would be linking up with a support squadron. Shifting to another file, Nazara brought up an image of the intriguing units he would soon be fighting alongside with.

Developed by BAE Systems in collaboration with Adukurf Mechano-Industries, the TSN-MB2F Proclus was an offshoot development of the program which had resulted in the TS-MB1B Euclid. Unlike the Euclid, which had been designed for both space combat and ground engagements, the Proclus was unique as a mobile armor in that it had been specifically designed for aerial operations. About half again as large as the Euclid, it bore the same dull gray paint-job, but its hull shape was notably different. The front half resembled the fan-like shell of a scallop, while the rear section flared out into a set of wide wings behind which were set two banks of three powerful thrusters. Powered by a nuclear reactor which in turn was protected by an N-Jammer Canceller, the Proclus was intended to act as an airborne fire support platform. The wide front half-disk was dominated by missile launchers, with the upper section holding eight Polistes air-to-air missile launchers while the lower housed six Bradawl air-to-ground missile launchers. Like the Euclid, the Proclus unit was armed with two M464 Degtyarev High-energy beam cannons, in this case with both being set in swivel mounts on the sides of the hull so they could rotate to engage either surface or aerial targets. Close up anti-air and anti-missile defense was provided by four retractable Igelstellung 75mm Automatic multi-barrel CIWS turrets, two topside and two underneath. Meant to operate for long periods of time in thick frontline combat zones, the Proclus was well-protected. Unlike the Euclid, the Proclus possessed two positron reflectors, one to cover the unit's topside while the other protected the bottom, leaving only thin gaps along the sides and rear as vulnerabilities. The unit's increased size was for more than housing the arsenal of missiles and nuclear reactor; there was actually a very small cabin with two bunks, a lavatory and even a tiny kitchen where the unit's crew of four could rotate to for rest over the course of long operations.

A pity that the current model requires a crew, Nazara thought, but I suppose it would be unfair to hold that against the design. After all, the requirements never included a provision for autonomous function. Well, I can always submit a recommendation for an unmanned version should this incarnation perform satisfactorily.

The Proclus aerial mobile armor was just one element of Operation: Scourge. While Sovereign and her Mobile Dolls would be the stars of the show, there was an extensive prologue planned, which would come in the form of a massive cruise missile bombardment prior to the aerial dreadnought's arrival. The bombardment would be made up of both surface-launched and air-launched missiles, and it would coincide with the scrambling of reserve F-7D Spearhead fighters and Jet Windam squadrons which would serve to draw out the Eurasian Federation's French Regional Command air units. Already engaged with intercepting mobile suits, jets, and missiles, they would be completely overwhelmed by the arrival of the Mobile Dolls and Proclus mobile armors. Once they were swept aside, the dreadnought would continue to Paris, and the main performance would commence. After the City of Light was left a blazing inferno, Sovereign and her escorts were set to move on their next target; Vienna.

LOGOS had hardly forgotten the humiliation that their forces had suffered before the Austrian regional capital.

And Nazara would ensure that said humiliation was paid back a hundred-fold.

….

The tension hanging in the air of the bridge could be cut with a knife. DaCosta's heart was beating so fast he could have sworn that the rest of the crew could hear it. As the Epicurus floated behind a giant half-cylindrical piece of debris from a long-destroyed colony, DaCosta's mind raced to figure a way out of their predicament.

ZAFT catching onto us was always a possibility, he thought as his eyes darted back and forth between the tactical display and the forward viewport, but I always figured it'd be small patrols we'd have to deal with first. Instead, we're playing hide and seek with what looks like a task force.

The Epicurus had still been inside Mendel when one of the patrolling GINN Specters reported the first Nazca-class destroyer sighting, with two more ships tagged shortly afterwards. Luckily for DaCosta and his comrades, the ships had been approaching from the opposite end of the colony, giving the Epicurus a chance to get out of the ruined habitat before ZAFT could trap her within. However, that was so far the only lucky break they had gotten. The destroyers had launched mobile suits to expand their search grid, and ever since the Epicurus had been scrambling from one hiding spot to the next as her crew desperately searched for a gap in the enemy's coverage so they could break out of the L4 debris field.

"Three to one at least on warships and mobile suits," he heard Captain Taha mutter under her breath, "No GOUFs so far, but plenty of ZAKUs. How do we worm our way out of this mess?"

"I was going to ask you that," DaCosta deadpanned.

"I can keep us running and hiding for a while," Captain Taha replied, "They've cast a wide net with their mobile suits, which does give us some room to maneuver. It'll start tightening up eventually, though. Only so many pieces of debris large enough to cover a ship this size."

"The GINN Specters rearmed earlier," DaCosta pointed out, "Their new weapons can give us cover for a breakout."

Captain Taha shook her head. "We only have two of them, which would leave the third ship still capable of tracking us one we move. The reload time on those launchers is too slow to allow us to rapidly blind all three. We could have one of the GuAIZs swap out their beam rifle for a launcher, but they're not stealth units; they'd be exposed when they go to line up the shot."

The new weapons in question were actually a Terminal modification of a pre-existing ZAFT design. Based off the old M68 Cattus 500mm recoilless rifles originally fielded by the GINN back in the First Bloody Valentine War, the MJ-15 Blinder was instead fitted with specialized chaff rounds. Programmed to detonate in proximity of their targets, the rounds would release clouds of fine particulate matter which had the effect of disrupting the sensors of any craft caught in the field. While the effect only lasted until the target in question could move beyond the particulate matter field, that brief window could be decisive in a battle. The two GINN Specters flying from the Epicurus were the best candidates to deliver those rounds, but that would not be enough to blind all three of ZAFT's warships currently hunting them.

But the longer we sit and hide, the more time ZAFT has to get reinforcements on scene, DaCosta thought, so would it be better to take a chance by outfitting one of the GuAIZs with the Blinder? I wish Waltfeld was here… either of them. Those two have always been better at making these sorts of calls than me.

"Maybe we can still shake them," DaCosta said, "What about luring them deeper into the debris field and then doubling back?"

"They'll leave units behind to cover that possibility," Captain Taha countered, her light brown eyes narrowing, "and they'll be joined by reinforcements in due time. We'd just have farther to run than before."

DaCosta racked his brain for ideas. "Surprise attack? Blind two and hit the third with concentrated fire from our ship and the GuAIZs before making a break for it."

"Possible," Captain Taha replied, "but difficult. We're still wearing the transport disguise, and we'll have to get rid of it in order to give clear lines of fire to our main guns. There's no clean way to shed that skin; when we trigger the charges, the pieces will fly as they may. Wouldn't be hard for the enemy to catch sight of that and come to investigate. Even if we could pull the attack off, best we'd accomplish is taking one destroyer out and temporarily blinding the other two. All their deployed mobile suits would still be a threat, and we can't outrun them."

"The chaff rounds have a wide dispersal area," DaCosta noted, "The GINN Specters can reload after hitting the destroyers and use the next rounds to jam the sensors of any mobile suits that move to pursue us."

"That would neutralize some, but not all," Captain Taha remarked, "If the survivors get a lucky shot off and damage our engines, that gives the others plenty of time to recover before converging and finishing us off."

"No matter how we play it, there'll be risks," DaCosta pointed out, "Can't be helped here."

"True enough," Captain Taha conceded.

"Captain!" the mobile suit control officer called out, "Phantom One's reporting an unknown contact sighting. You should see this!"

"Get it on screen," she ordered.

DaCosta followed her gaze, and the image on the main monitor shifted to reveal a most unusual sight. At first glance, it looked like just a picture of space with scattered bits of debris and not much else. However, upon closer inspection, one could make out a very small machine against the void and floating scrap. DaCosta wasn't sure what to make of it. His initial impression was that of something along the lines of the old Predator drones, but it was painted black and had a single thruster nozzle at the back rather than a propeller. It was slightly smaller than a Predator drone, too, and its wings were swept back like a bird's.

"What in the world…" DaCosta muttered.

"Huh," Captain Taha muttered, "That's interesting. Definitely a drone, but whose?"

"Doesn't match any ZAFT models I've ever seen," DaCosta remarked, "Earth Alliance, on the other hand…"

"They no longer maintain a presence out here," Captain Taha argued, "There was that surprise attack before the new war started, but ever since then, the Earth Alliance space forces have been far away from here."

"The Alliance could have a spy ship hiding in the debris field," DaCosta pointed out.

Captain Taha's brow furrowed. "They could… or this could be a new ZAFT design. Unless we have a third party operating out here apart from us."

DaCosta blinked. "Junk Guild, maybe?"

"Captain, we have a transmission incoming!" the communications officer called out, "It's using one of Terminal's encryptions, but it's coming from the drone! Correction; it's being routed through the drone!"

DaCosta and Captain Taha's eyes widened; of all the twists that could've been thrown at them, neither had seen this one coming. It raised far more questions than answers.

"Who's it from?" Captain Taha asked warily.

"That's the really weird part," the communications officer explained, "The source is a warship calling itself the Asgard, of the Kingdom of Scandinavia!"

….

I knew it would be an interesting shakedown cruise, Captain Hedda Vang thought as she studied the tactical display, but I didn't picture things getting complicated this early. Well, more complicated than they already were, anyway.

While born into the Kingdom of Scandinavia's prestigious House of Vang, the commanding officer of the Kingdom's new warship did not meet the stereotypical image of a spoiled aristocrat; quite the opposite, in fact. Possessing sharp blue eyes and platinum blonde hair, her body was fit and trim like a runner's despite being already in her early 40s, and that had been her workout of choice ever since boot camp had drilled it into her.

"Think they got our message?" she asked her second-in-command.

The ship's Executive Officer, Frederik Hall, furrowed his brow. "We know that they're in range of the Raven's Eye, even with the interference from the debris field, so I'm betting that they did. Problem is getting a confirmation response; given their current situation, it's risky for them to send a signal, even a burst one that'll be relayed through the drones. We'll only get an acknowledgement if our message convinces them that they can trust us and they're desperate enough to chance a reply."

In his early fifties, Frederik was the sort of XO that any competent commanding officer would want; experienced and cool under pressure, the latter to the point that he'd earned the nickname 'Unflappable Freddie' from his comrades. A full six feet in height, with bright silver hair, intense green eyes with a few wrinkles around them, and a well-trimmed mustache and beard, he looked like he would be just as at home giving a college lecture as he was supervising Hedda's bridge crew. The fact that the present operation was taking place at L4 made him even more invaluable, for Hall had been assigned to the Republic of East Asia's space forces as a foreign observer and liaison while they'd operated in this part of space. He knew the region well, though much of that knowledge admittedly came from just before L4 had been transformed from a bustling cluster of colonies to a massive debris field and grave yard.

"Should we send another message?" Hedda inquired.

Frederik shook his head. "Not just yet. The first one only went out a few minutes ago. We should give our friends time to parse over its contents and decide on their course of action."

Hedda nodded. "Fair enough, seeing as we're still trying to work ours out."

"ROE's making that a bit trickier than usual," Frederik remarked.

Hedda quietly snorted. "No kidding."

It would have been so much easier had this operation involved helping Terminal against Earth Alliance forces. While the Kingdom of Scandinavia was still legally neutral, rules of engagement when it came to encounters with Earth Alliance forces were quite straightforward; the Atlantic Federation's brutal assault on Europe hadn't won them any friends with the Nordic nation. The Asgard would've been obligated to give one warning, but after that, it was shoot to kill and sort out the consequences later.

Rules of engagement, or ROE, were a much thornier issue when it came to any potential encounters with ZAFT forces. The Kingdom of Scandinavia had long enjoyed easy diplomatic relations with the PLANTs, at least prior to the First Bloody Valentine War; the Zala regime's actions had certainly put a damper on any previous warm feelings. While ties had mended somewhat in the aftermath of that conflict, the Durandal regime's policies in this new war had resulted in old fears resurfacing. While ZAFT had so far avoided any blatant atrocities this time around, the fact that they had made moves on the surface designed to expand their territorial control while officially fighting a 'defensive' war against the Earth Alliance brought their leadership's motivations under intense scrutiny. As such, while the Kingdom of Scandinavia and the PLANTs weren't open enemies, at this point they could hardly be called friends, and affairs between the two nations were growing frostier as the Second Bloody Valentine War went on.

Shots fired against Earth Alliance forces just means we're now officially in a war against the most hated nation in the world, Hedda thought, but any action against ZAFT is a much more complicated prospect. While Chairman Durandal's true goals in this war are certainly suspect, ZAFT hasn't done anything to officially justify a declaration of war against them by the Kingdom. Yet here we are, trying to run interference in their hunt for Terminal's forces in this region without igniting a new conflict. How do we thread this needle?

If it came down to a fight, Hedda could take comfort in the fact that she had the firepower and protection needed to survive it, at least until ZAFT reinforcements showed up. Although the Kingdom of Scandinavia wasn't known as a major power in outer space, they did still maintain an orbital presence. While holding no colonies, the Kingdom did own a series of asteroid resource satellites that needed protection. These were primarily at L3, a neighborhood of space that the Kingdom shared with the Orb Union's colonies; the two nations had long ago signed economic and trade agreements to facilitate mutually beneficial commercial activity between them in the region. Orb's military made up the bulk of L3's armed forces, but the Kingdom of Scandinavia kept most of its admittedly limited space-borne warships in the region as well. Indeed, the majority of the Kingdom's orbital vessels had actually been built in Orb Union shipyards.

The Asgard, though, was an exception. Designed in the wake of the First Bloody Valentine War, she had been constructed within the Kingdom of Scandinavia's home territory on Earth, and she had only just launched into space earlier today. Lacking their own mass driver, the Kingdom had gotten its prized new warship into space courtesy of the Bifrost System, which included a mixture of traditional detachable thrusters and a set of incredibly powerful scramjets. Hedda had been quietly nervous about whether or not the Bifrost System could generate the required energy for getting the Asgard clear of the planet's gravitational pull, but much to her relief the vessel had slipped free of her Earthly bonds without incident.

Modeled after the successful Archangel-class Mobile Assault Battleships of Atlantic Federation and later Three Ships Alliance-turned-Terminal fame, the Asgard shared the same general design and hull shape. Matching the Archangel-class at 420 meters in length, she also shared the class's armaments, but there were key differences in the internal layout. Specifically, the Lohengrin positron cannons were not mounted in the legs, instead being placed together in the central hull section where the Archangel-class would have had its hangar to form essentially a dual-barreled Lohengrin rather than two separate weapons. The mobile suits were split between two smaller hangers set in and aft of the warship's signature 'legs', and the legs themselves had been designed to turn and extend out to the sides as to ensure that the dual-barreled Lohengrin could fire without causing damage to the Asgard itself. Asgard had a cloudy gray paint scheme as its base, with light blue as a secondary while keeping the Archangel-class's golden accents. She was, for good reason, the pride of the Kingdom's space naval forces, which meant there was a great deal of pressure on Hedda and her crew to ensure that the vessel's maiden voyage was successful.

One mistake could end up turning this into an orbital version of Operation: Rheinübung, she mused grimly, and I'd rather not have my ship share a historical distinction with the likes of Bismark.

While the Asgard shared the Archangel-class's basic design philosophy of being durable and powerful frontline battleships which could also carry a formidable mobile suit complement, the Kingdom's new vessel had a tool that her predecessors lacked. In addition to the mobile suits and shuttles that one would expect to find in the hangar of a contemporary warship, the Asgard also carried twenty drones that were collectively made up the ship's Raven's Eye System. While each of the small black drones individually made for a handy scouting platform, their true potential was realized when they were deployed in bulk. The Raven's Eye System could link the feeds from all the drones together, resulting in incredible data gathering and real-time processing. As long as each drone was within range of another, they could relay their gathered intelligence back to the Asgard even if the warship was beyond the individual drone's transmitting range, and if they were deployed skillfully then they could potentially survey a very wide range, whether it be on Earth or in outer space. Additionally, the ship's mobile suits were also designed to be incorporated into the Raven's Eyes System, allowing the drone network to extend its range by acting as relay points. This had the added benefit of providing the pilots with constant updates on their operational environment without having to wait for intel to come from the Asgard itself, though how effectively a mobile suit pilot could juggle such data analysis alongside the various stresses of actual combat was another matter entirely. Since they were painted black, the drones were best used in space to blend in with the void, though they had performed adequately in separate atmospheric testing, with better results naturally coming from nighttime trials.

With orders to avoid directly engaging ZAFT forces unless absolutely necessary, Hedda was counting on the Raven's Eye System to fulfill her mission. She had already tested its transmission capabilities by using it to get a covert message to the Epicurus, relying on the network's encryption and tight-beam features to slip the communique under the noses of the ZAFT ships and mobile suits patrolling the area. So far, it appeared that none of the ZAFT units had picked up on the presence of the drones themselves, though how much longer that would last was difficult to determine. Beyond their capabilities to observe and relay communications, the drones were very limited in what they could accomplish. They were completely unarmed, so direct action with them was out of the question. Even ramming attacks would be pointless; they were so light and small that the most such a gesture would accomplish was possibly scratching the paint of a target. They did possess very limited electronic warfare capabilities in that they could jam cameras, but each individual drone could only accomplish this for a minute in a confined range. By acting in concert, the entire drone network could extend this effect, and if all twenty drones were utilized to this purpose, then the jamming could last for twenty minutes. However, such active jamming measures would inevitably reveal their positions, and any hostile contact outside the jamming range could then target the drones and destroy them with ease.

Realistically, Hedda thought, the best we can accomplish is giving the Epicurus intel on the positions of the ZAFT forces hunting for her and try to plot an escape course. Of course, even if we can guide her out of the debris field, once she hits open space it'll be impossible for her to hide. We need to give her a head start over ZAFT… but how?

"Captain, response confirmed!" the communication's officer excitedly reported, "It's short, but they do acknowledge that we're here to help. They're requesting we continue relaying data on the positions of ZAFT's forces and attempt to distract them if possible. They claim that they can jam the sensors on two of the ships in a surprise attack, but not the third."

"Interesting," Hedda murmured before turning to her XO, "Thoughts?"

"I'd love to know the details on how they plan to jam their targets," Frederik remarked, "but they probably want to keep that card close to the chest. If all they're asking for is a distraction, we have options."

Hedda nodded; she already had one in mind. "Contact the Odin Gundam. Tell Mattson it's time to put on a show. I'm sure he'll enjoy the chance to get his new machine into the spotlight. Have two of the Einherjars accompany him just in case ZAFT decides to play rough."

….

"So, it's going to be like that, huh?" Gunnar Mattson murmured after receiving his new orders, "You don't ask for much, Captain. Only for us to annoy ZAFT to just below the point where they might start shooting at us. Nope, not asking for much at all."

In his mid-thirties, the top pilot in the Asgard's mobile suit contingent was, like the ship's Captain, the scion of a prominent noble family who had favored the martial path over a privileged aristocrat's life. At an imposing six feet and three inches in height and possessing a muscular build, the green-eyed and dark grey-haired Natural now found himself in a rather challenging situation. The sense of honor drilled into him by his upbringing meant his natural inclinations were towards an open and straightforward engagement with the enemy, yet here his orders were essentially to take on the role of showman and trickster.

They're not legally the enemy, he mentally reminded himself, not yet. Unless or until the Kingdom of Scandinavia and ZAFT officially open hostilities with each other, our conflict is strictly low-key and grey zone. This'll be a contest of maneuver and positioning…

He switched over to the tactical channel set for him and his two wingmen… or wing women, in this case. "You two get all that?"

Two helmeted faces appeared on his screen. Through their visors, Gunnar could dimly make out the green eyes and neck-length brown hair of the thirty-two year-old Natural Ruth Olofsdotter on the left, and the red eyes and messy blonde hair of the twenty-nine -year old Coordinator Maarika Ranta on the right.

Ruth was the first to answer. "Affirmative."

"Copy that," Maarika chimed in, "So, how do you want to play this, lead?"

It was a very good question, and one Gunnar did not have a ready answer for. It would have been so much simpler if this were a regular combat operation; their three machines were very well equipped for that. Gunnar certainly would not have minded the chance to put his unit through its paces. Designated KS-001 Odin, it was the Kingdom's first entry into what the world had come to broadly classify as 'Gundams' since the First Bloody Valentine War. A battery-powered machine protected by Variable Phase Shift Armor which was programmed for a deep grey color-scheme with the Norse runes for purity and rationality emblazoned upon the torso, it certainly made for a unique unit. The head possessed a golden V-fin, while its optical sensors were mismatched, with its left one being red while the right was bright blue. This was more than simply a product of strange aesthetic tastes; the red optical sensor was linked to the Raven's Eye System, with the supporting software behind it enabling the Odin's pilot to see directly through the drones' cameras.

At first glance, the Odin's armaments appeared to be quite run of the mill. It possessed two head-mounted Igelstellung 75mm automatic multi-barreled CIWS, the exact same model that the Earth Alliance was so fond of using in its mobile suits, while the Gungnir beam rifle was fairly basic as far as ranged weapons went, albeit in this case it was notable in being designed as a more energy-efficient model than others. The Odin's Aegis Shield wouldn't have looked out of place on any other Gundam-type mobile suit, and it was no less capable of taking punishment. In fact, the Aegis actually had a beam shield emitter system built into it, providing an additional layer of protection. It was the Odin's melee weapon that set it apart, though; the MX-14 Experimental Electrical Saber Hofund. As the name suggested, it was a notable departure from the beam sabers favored by other Gundams. While less capable in dealing direct damage, the Hofund possessed a unique ability; when swung, the saber unleashed a shockwave of electrical energy that was capable of disabling the electronics of insufficiently protected mobile suits for up to four minutes. While that might've seemed at first glance like a short time, it was an eternity in fast-paced combat, providing more than sufficient a window for either the Odin or its accompanying mobile suits to either capture or destroy the disabled opponent.

It performed well in testing, Gunnar mused, but it hasn't been used against hostile targets yet. That might change today… and if it does, I guess we'll see just how well-protected the electronics in ZAFT's frontline mobile suits are.

While the Odin was the crown jewel in the Asgard's mobile suit complement, the two units accompanying it for this distraction operation were nothing to sneeze at, either. Ruth and Maarika were backing Gunnar up with the KS02-AFR Einherjar mobile suits, which were designed to support the Odin Gundam. Like they Odin, the Einherjar also possessed Variable Phase Shift Armor, in their case patterned a deep gray with gold and blue accents. Instead of mismatched optical sensors, they possessed a third sensor set into their helms above which let their pilots access data from the Raven's Eye System. In addition to integration in the drone network, the mobile suits were connected to the Einherjar Encryption Network, further encoding their communications, and making transmissions even tougher for the enemy to decipher. The design owed no small amount of influence from the Earth Alliance's Windam model, focusing on creating an agile fighting platform, albeit one that was better protected than the unit it was based off.

The Einherjar were hardly lacking in the armaments department, either. Like the Odin, they shared the head-mounted Igelstellung 75mm automatic multi-barreled CIWS and the Aegis Shield, but that was where the similarities ended. Two Lævateinn beam pistols were holstered in the units' hips, along with a pair of Armored Schnieder knives. Meanwhile the primary melee armament was the Dainslief beam sword, a physical sword with beam emitters running down both sides.

Unfortunately for Gunnar and his comrades, all those impressive weapons were not going to do them much good here. If they had to draw upon their mobile suits' firepower, then it meant that the mission had gone very wrong.

His colleagues knew that just as well as him, hence Maarika's earlier question, which Gunnar was still struggling to answer. "Well… I'm open to ideas."

"You're supposed to be the man with the plan, flight lead," Ruth chided him in a teasing tone.

Gunnar's brow twitch. "If this was a fight, I'd have one. You know that. This is misdirection, though. I don't do deception very well."

"Yeah, that's what we figured," Maarika remarked, "Good thing you've got us with this time, or you'd be in real trouble."

Gunnar raised an eyebrow. "You have a suggestion, I take it?"

"Simple; we fly towards ZAFT and bullshit them," Maarika answered.

Gunnar blinked in confusion. "Bullshit them?"

"I think I know what she means, lead," Ruth chimed in, "We're officially on shakedown cruise, right? Let's lean into that. The L4 debris field is a good place to practice combat maneuvers in hazardous environs, and we're heading there anyway. Once we get ZAFT's attention and they query us, we tell them we're conducting a training exercise. This part of L4's well beyond Armory One's internationally recognized space zone, so ZAFT has no legal right to bar us entry here. If we want to run test flights in the debris, who's to stop us?"

"ZAFT's destroyers and mobile suits, for starters," Gunnar deadpanned, "The world's at war, and they're hunting Terminal out here. They're probably feeling rather trigger happy right now."

"I'm not saying we get right up in their faces and provoke them into shooting at us," Ruth argued, "We get close, but not close enough to be easy targets. Buzz their outer picket without looking like that's what we're trying to do, and draw some of their units out of position in the process."

"At the very least, they'd send some of their mobile suits to intercept," Maarika added, "That alone might give our friends in the debris field the opening they need. Plus, when they see the Asgard and the rest of the Einherjars coming in behind us, that'll probably be enough to draw away one of the destroyers. We just need to be annoying without pissing them off to the point that they open fire. Like I said; we bullshit them."

"I don't like it," Gunnar grumbled.

"You got a better idea?" Ruth challenged.

Gunnar grimaced. "Unfortunately, no. Bullshit it is, then."

"Let me do the talking when they challenge us," Ruth suggested, "I've seen you play poker, lead; you are crap when it comes to bluffing."

"Fine by me," Gunnar replied, "If they start shooting at us, Maarika and I will just blame you for everything going to hell."

"I knew you'd come around!" Ruth chirped, "Now, let's go throw some chum in the water and see how many sharks we draw in!"

….

"What the hell's going on?" Captain Jogaila Kance muttered under his breath.

Commanding officer of the Nazca-class destroyer Avogadro, the First Generation Coordinator's brow furrowed as he studied the tactical display. In his early forties, his once dark brown hair now had several prominent grey streaks in it, and he suspected he'd have a few more before the war was over, assuming he lived that long. Wrinkles were becoming more visible in his face as well, though his light blue eyes remained as clear and sharp as ever. A cautious commander who'd survived the hell of the First Bloody Valentine War, Captain Kance didn't like it when outside elements intruded on an operation, and the new contacts were only making his already-grim mood worse.

"Beats me, sir," his XO, Katryna Klastauskiene, replied while tapping her chin in thought, "Of all the players who could come snooping around out here, the Kingdom of Scandinavia wasn't on my radar… until now, anyway."

Another First Generation Coordinator, Katryna had served alongside Captain Kance since the day he'd been given command of the Avogadro. A tall and willowy woman who kept her blonde hair tied back in a tight bun, her dark brown eyes had seen almost as much war by now as Captain Kance. Cool under pressure, she was exactly the kind of second in command that Captain Kance wanted working with him in this scenario.

Both were quite surprised when the Avogadro had been ordered to divert from her patrol route and take up flagship role for the task force which was now hunting for Terminal assets within the L4 debris field. To say that Captain Kance had mixed feelings about the new assignment was an understatement. Though he'd maintained a detached demeanor when relaying the new orders to the crew, he privately wondered just what was going on with this mission. While he'd served ZAFT loyally since first joining the organization, he hadn't been blind to the organization's crimes during the First Bloody Valentine War, and thus hadn't shed any tears for Patrick Zala's demise and his radical faction's removal from power at the end of that conflict. He knew that the Coordinator people owed the Three Ships Alliance, now Terminal, a great debt for not only saving the PLANTs in that titanic final battle but also preventing them from firing GENESIS at Earth and thus becoming just as monstrous as those who had wished to wipe out their people. To be in opposition to that organization in a new war was an ominous sign of just what direction ZAFT could be heading in.

Did his XO feel the same way? Captain Kance honestly could not say. Like him, she typically kept her true feelings locked away, focusing on maintaining a dispassionate and professional demeanor, and putting the mission over everything else. He could've sworn he'd once heard lyrics from a Lacus Clyne song coming from her quarters on one occasion, but then again, Captain Kance had been dead tired at the time, so it could've just been his imagination. Or perhaps even thoughts of home playing tricks on him; both of his daughters adored the songstress and played her music quite often, so it could've just been Captain Kance's longing to see his family once more messing with his senses.

As ever, he brushed such concerns aside, forcing himself to keep his focus on the task at hand. At present, the Avogadro and six her mobile suits, ZAKU Warriors which were divided into an even split of Blaze and Slash Wizard Pack-equipped models, were operating in the outermost layer of the L4 debris field. She was currently working with the destroyers Winogradsky and Urey, both of which were deeper into the debris field. While those two destroyers and their mobile suits were trying to locate the target, Avogadro was backstopping them, keeping an eye on the rear, and watching both for potential hostile reinforcements as well as standing by as a transmission relay point to contact friendly units. Additional ZAFT forces were on the way, but from what Captain Kance understood it would still be some time before they arrived.

"The Kingdom didn't have any major holdings in L4 before the last war, right?" he asked.

"Their principal orbital assets are concentrated at L3," Katryna answered, "They had fairly standard trade ties with the Earth Alliance colonies at L4, along with the usual diplomatic facilities, but they pulled out once the fighting heated up."

"Then what interest would they have out here?" Kance mused aloud, "Ongoing salvage operations?"

"Possible," Katryna admitted, "but I have hard time seeing those as justifying protection from a warship and mobile suits, especially since most of the salvagers in this region apart from our own tend to be third party independent contractors."

The Captain scratched his chin as another thought occurred. "Then perhaps it's related to our mission. Has anything in our intel indicated past or present Kingdom involvement with Terminal or Three Ships Alliance activities?"

"According to the files we were given access to, nothing of note," Katryna replied before her voice trailed off, "although…"

Kance eyed his XO curiously before prodding. "Although what?"

"The first leader of the Clyne Faction," Katryna said, "Siegel Clyne… he was born in the Kingdom of Scandinavia. That's always been considered nothing more than a historical footnote for him, but… what if he kept up ties in secret… and passed those connections along to his daughter?"

"Maybe," the Captain remarked, "but we might be getting into conspiracy theory territory here. We're drawing a connection based off nothing more than her father's ancestry, unless you know of any other intel that can corroborate."

Katryna sighed and shook her head. "Afraid I don't, sir."

"Then let's focus on what we can confirm here and now," the Captain suggested, fixing his gaze once again on the tactical display, "Three mobile suits with Kingdom IFF transponders as a vanguard, all battery powered, and a warship signature much further back. Probably more mobile suits where those first three came from. General heading's taking the right into the debris field. Are they on course to overlap with our search grid?"

"Crossing it almost perfectly through the middle," Katryna confirmed, "That alone is suspicious."

"It is," Kance growled, "We should let them know that they aren't welcome here. Get three of the ZAKUs out on intercept vector and have them send the interlopers on their way."

"And if our uninvited guests press the issue?" Katryna asked.

"We press right back," Kance answered firmly, "Keep our other three ZAKUs on standby. If the interlopers get pushy, we send them out to back up the first three and make sure our message gets across. We'll go ourselves if their warship joins them."

"That will leave a considerable gap in our coverage of the area," Katryna advised.

"I know," Kance acknowledged, "but we can't have anyone getting in our way here. Terminal's known for being able to sway various parties over to their side, and we can't discount the possibility of the Kingdom being among them. After all, Terminal was quick to capitalize on new relations with the Eurasians after the Atlantic Federation started that mess in Europe. If no other explanations present themselves, we'd be wise to assume that these intruders are new fruits of Terminal's diplomatic efforts. Inform the Urey and Winogradsky of the new developments; have them be on guard for potential additional Kingdom contacts within the debris field itself."

Katryna nodded before she began barking orders to the bridge crew. "Dispatch Zodiac Team to intercept the new mobile suits! Celestial Team will standby if Zodiac needs reinforcements. Comms, have Zodiac Team patch us into their transmissions with the interlopers. Notify Urey and Winogradsky that we have company, and tell them to watch out for any surprise visitors."

Kance's fingers tapped on the arm of his chair as minutes passed, his eyes on the tactical display watching the three blue dots representing Zodiac Team moving meet the trio of orange dots that were the newcomers. Zodiac's ZAKU Warriors were the ones equipped with Blaze Wizard Packs, making them better suited for rapid interception than Celestial, though Kance hoped that neither team would have to actually employ their armaments here.

We have enough enemies already, he thought, and we don't need to add a whole new nation to the list. Then again, they might not give us a choice in the matter. Can't say I'm looking forward to the debrief if this mess winds up opening a new front in the war…

A few minutes later, the deep voice of Zodiac Team's flight lead, Spiro Vitalakis, reached out to the new arrivals. "Attention approaching mobile suits, this is Zodiac One of the ZAFT warship Avogadro. Identify yourselves and state your purpose for being here!"

A female voice answered. "This is Aesir Two of the Kingdom of Scandinavia warship Asgard. We've just launched from Earth and are undergoing space trials. We'll be conducting exercises in the debris field."

"Negative, Aesir Two," Spiro replied, "We have an operation underway. You'll have to get your test runs done somewhere else."

"Last I checked, ZAFT doesn't have exclusive rights to L4," Aesir Two countered, "It's a big debris field; you can share."

"We're in pursuit of dangerous fugitives," Spiro elaborated, "Any interference could give them a chance to escape, and we cannot tolerate that."

"Fugitives, you say?" Aesir Two inquired, "Perhaps we could help you find them? It'd give us a chance to put our instruments through proper testing."

Spiro hesitated for a moment. "Aesir Two, stand by."

There was an audible click, signaling a channel change, before Spiro spoke again. "Avogadro, did you hear that?"

"We did, Zodiac One," Kance confirmed, "Politely inform them that their offer is declined. We cannot abide any outsiders meddling in this mission."

"Understood," Spiro acknowledged.

"Wasn't expecting the offer," Katryna remarked, "You think it was genuine?"

Kance shook his head. "If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is."

Katryna nodded. "I suppose so."

"Aesir Two, your offer is declined," Spiro said, "Alter course and divert from this sector of space."

"Your fugitives could pose a threat to Kingdom interests," Aesir Two pointed out, "We'd like to know who you're hunting so we can be on the lookout for them."

"Negative, Aesir Two," Spiro curtly shot back, patience clearly waning, "That information is classified."

"Then you're expecting us to just take your word for it?" Aesir Two replied skeptically, "With the way the world is these days, I'm sure you'll understand if we don't extend you the benefit of the doubt."

Katryna leaned over to whisper in Kance's ear. "Sir, those three contacts have been advancing this whole time, and their battleship isn't slowing down, either. Whoever this Aesir Two is, she's stalling."

Kance concurred. "Zodiac One, this is Avogadro; we're done humoring them. A warning shot is authorized to prove our point."

"Acknowledged," Zodiac One replied.

"And if the warning shot is insufficient discouragement?" Katryna quietly asked.

Kance blew out a resigned exhalation. "Then we engage, drive them off… and deal with the consequences, whatever they may be."

….

"They're really going for it…" DaCosta murmured as he watched the tactical display.

It wasn't just him; everyone on the bridge had their eyes glued to the monitor, watching with bated breath as the Kingdom mobile suits closed with their ZAFT counterparts. As far as diversions went, it was as good as Terminal could hope for, but DaCosta could not help worrying. The Scandinavians were playing with fire, and it would be all too easy for things to escalate into a full-blown shootout between them and ZAFT.

Going by Captain Taha's anxious expression, DaCosta wasn't the only one with those concerns. "Ballsy… maybe too much. We need to move before this crosses the point of no return."

DaCosta readily concurred. "Are Phantom One and Two in position?"

Taha checked her personal monitor. "They are. I don't think we'll get a better shot than this."

DaCosta nodded. "Agreed. Lose the shell and gun it, Captain; it's now or never."

Taha wasted no time in barking out new orders. "Blow the outer charges! Helm, make for the gap our new friends opened up, and don't spare the juice! Flight Control, Phantom Flight is clear to fire! Have Myrmidon Flight stick close to us; we're running the gauntlet!"

There was a series of muffled rumbles as explosives positioned throughout the destroyer's transport shell detonated, sending metal plating flying everywhere and revealing the Nazca-class destroyer for all to see. At the same time, the vessel rocketed forward as her powerful engines suddenly roared to life. DaCosta paid none of that any mind; his focus was back on the tactical display, specifically the icons representing the two closest ZAFT destroyers.

"Come on, Phantoms," he whispered, "It's all on you now."

DaCosta got what he was hoping for a moment later, courtesy of the ship's mobile suit flight controller. "Phantom Flight reports successful Blinder detonations!"

"Have them fall back towards us," Taha commanded, "and tell them to keep cloaked and reload! Their next rounds are for the ZAKUs."

As the Epicurus rocketed through the debris field, DaCosta caught sight of the two destroyers that had been targeted by Phantom Flight. With all their sensors jammed, the warships were firing wildly with their 58mm CIWS. The ZAKUs that had been closest to their motherships and thus caught in the chaff clouds were likewise spraying space with particle beams, hoping sheer volume of fire would discourage any follow up attacks.

"Nice to know the Blinders work," DaCosta remarked.

"They can still deadeye us," Taha reminded him, "Let's not push our luck."

DaCosta nodded. "Point taken."

"We have incoming!" the sensor officer called out, "ZAKUS, four Blaze and three Slash!"

"Let 'em have it!" Taha ordered.

The destroyer's ten 58mm CIWS and five 450mm multipurpose Vertical Launch Systems opened up with shells and anti-air missiles, respectively. At the same time, the four GuAIZs of Myrmidon Flight added fire from their MA-M21G beam rifles to the mix, creating a formidable umbrella of energy and ordinance for the enemy to get through. One had to give the ZAKU pilots credit, though; they did not back down. Even as two of the Blaze ZAKU Warriors and one of the Slash variants fell to missiles and particle beams, respectively, the remaining four units pressed their assault. The two surviving Blaze units let fly with their Firebee missiles, while the two Slash ZAKU Warriors boldly closed in to make full use of their back-mounted Hydra beam gatlings and long Falx G7 pole-arm style beam axes. While CIWS and a few lucky particle beams intercepted some of the missiles, the Epicurus shuddered as several warheads managed to pierce the screen and strike home.

"Damage report!" Taha called out.

"Two CIWS and one of the VLS are down!" an officer immediately replied, "Armor's holding."

"Could be better, could be worse," DaCosta murmured.

Taha shot him a sharp look. "Don't jinx it."

DaCosta winced. "Right."

While a well-placed beam rifle shot from one of the GuAIZs took out another Blaze ZAKU, the remaining three machines had all closed in to engage with the destroyer's escorts. A hail of emerald bolts from a Slash ZAKU's beam gatlings shredded one of the GuAIZs before the attacker was struck down in turn by another member of Myrmidon Flight stabbing it in the back with their unit's beam claws. The sole remaining Blaze ZAKU traded beam rifle fire with another GuAIZ before a lucky missile from the destroyer's VLS blew it apart, while the final Slash ZAKU's long beam axe hammered against the shield of the third surviving GuAIZ before the Terminal pilot in question managed to take out their attacker utilizing the unit's pair of EEQ7R Extensional Arrestors to tangle the ZAFT machine's arms before blasting the enemy through the torso with their beam rifle.

"Which one did we lose?" DaCosta asked.

"Myrmidon Three," the flight control officer grimly reported.

"Analisa," Taha muttered, "Damn it…"

There was no time to mourn. The Epicurus was now shooting through the debris field like a massive three-pointed projectile, and her surviving mobile suits were in tight formation around her. DaCosta heard a series of clangs and minor rumblings as the destroyer plowed over various bits of debris, beelining for the gap that the Scandinavians had opened for them. Open space was ahead, but their trial was not yet over.

"The third destroyer's turning around!" the sensor officer reported, "She's moving to intercept."

"Get Phantom One on her!" Taha ordered, "We need her sensors jammed ASAP. Phantom Two stays with us; they're to save their next Blinder round for the mobile suits. Status of the other two destroyers?"

"They've cleared the chaff clouds," the sensor officer replied, "and are adjusting course to pursue. We have the lead, though."

"And we need to keep it," Taha declared, "Guns, get a targeting solution on the third destroyer. Once she's blinded and we've got a shot, take it."

Checking the tactical display again, Da Costa saw the two previously jammed destroyers and their five surviving ZAKUs forming up to give chase. Meanwhile, the third destroyer was indeed positioning herself to meet the Epicurus in open space, but only three ZAKUS, all Slash variants, were with her. The ship's three Blaze ZAKU Warriors were still screening against the vanguard trio of Scandinavian mobile suits, and DaCosta was alarmed to see that they were now evading fire from the ZAFT units.

ZAFT really doesn't care about opening up a new front in the war, he realized, Durandal must be desperate to keep what we found out here from becoming public knowledge before he's ready!

There was a flash of light a second later, and DaCosta could see the space around the third destroyer flicker, as if thousands of tiny lights were winking on and off. He knew what it meant, and he got confirmation from the bridge crew in short order.

"Phantom One reports successful Blinder strike on third destroyer!" the mobile suit flight controller announced.

"Captain, targeting solution locked in!" the chief gunnery officer reported almost simultaneously.

"Open fire!" Taha ordered.

A salvo of emerald beams ripped forth from the destroyer's two main guns. The third destroyer had been turning to meet the Epicurus head on, but that turn was not complete, so the shots caught the vessel on starboard side of the central hull prong. While one shot buckled the armor and left a scorched impact mark, the other particle beam had scored a much more significant hit, knocking out the destroyer's high-energy beam cannon on that side.

"Nice," DaCosta remarked.

"Save the celebration; we're not out of the woods yet," Taha chided him.

Having moved up ahead of their mothership, the three Slash ZAKU Warriors escorting the stricken destroyer had been clear of the Blinder detonation, and they were now rushing towards the Epicurus to exact payback. There was another flash followed by flickering space as Phantom Two fired off their Blinder round, and the three Slash ZAKUs suddenly began firing wildly with their beam gatlings. Recognizing their opportunity, the three remaining GuAIZs of Myrmidon Flight charged in, opening fire with their beam rifles. One of the Slash ZAKUs was caught in the torso and went up like a firework, but the other two managed to take the particle beams on their shields. The pair began falling back, but it was not a retreat; DaCosta could see the three Blaze ZAKU Warriors who had previously been chasing the Scandinavians now racing furiously to support their comrades.

"They'll form up before we can get through," DaCosta predicted.

"Then we'll just have to steamroll them," Taha resolved, leaning forward in her chair, "I want everything we have targeting those mobile suits, including the big guns! Break up their formation so our pilots can pick them off."

The Epicurus filled space with beams, railgun rounds, shells and missiles as the crew eagerly fulfilled their Captain's command. Myrmidon Flight added fire from their rifles to the mix, and there was the pleasant surprise of another Blinder round detonating in the midst of the Blaze ZAKU Warriors; Phantom One had completed reloading from their attack on the destroyer.

"One last push, people," Taha declared, "and we're out of here. Let's not keep Miss Clyne waiting!"

As the destroyer tore through the last stretch of debris between it and open space, the ZAFT mobile suits before her formed up for their final stand. With their sensors jammed courtesy of the Blinder detonation, the Blaze ZAKU Warriors resorted to blind firing, opening up with wild volleys from their beam rifles and filling space with missiles from their back-mounted launchers. The two remaining Slash ZAKU Warriors did the same with their beam-gatlings, and the sheer combined weight of fire was more than enough to make up for the lacking precision. Even as Myrmidon Flight began picking off targets, first a Blaze ZAKU and then one of the Slash variants, at least some of the enemy's shots hit home in return.

While the CIWS of the Epicurus combined with those of the GuAIZs did a good job of thinning out the missile swarm, and other projectiles simply detonated against bits of floating debris, other shots inevitably found their target. The Epicurus shuddered under a succession of hits, though DaCosta took comfort in the fact that none of them had been serious enough to raise alarm from the damage control officer. The destroyer could weather the hits, but it was a different matter for Myrmidon Flight. Whether by luck or spectacular aim, a particle beam from one of the Blaze ZAKU Warriors destroyed a GuAIZ, while another member of Myrmidon Flight had the right leg of their machine blown off at the knee by a missile detonation.

"Who's down this time?" DaCosta asked grimly.

"Myrmidon Two," the flight control officer answered, "Myrmidon Four is damaged."

"Alexei…" Taha whispered, briefly closing her eyes and bowing her head before returning her resolute gaze to the forward viewport, "We have to make it count."

Two lost for our side, DaCosta thought as he watched the rest of the ZAFT mobile suits in front of the Epicurus succumb to fire from the destroyer and her remaining GuAIZs, and several more for ZAFT. Not in some grand battle for the fate of the world, but in a desperate skirmish out in L4's graveyard.

How many more lives on both sides will this operation claim?

….

"What did they hit those destroyers with?" Hedda asked, studying the tactical display intently.

"Scans from the Raven's Eye units are picking up particulate matter around ZAFT's capital ships," the chief drone officer answered, "It messed with the drones' scopes, too. Some kind of chaff or other electronic warfare ordinance, if I had to guess."

"And no visible confirmation on which units used it," Frederik noted, "Must have been deployed by mobile suits equipped with the Mirage Colloid system."

Hedda blinked. "I thought their Wraiths were all reported to be on Earth. Same with that Grim Reaper Gundam."

Frederik shrugged. "It seems that Terminal has more stealth units at their disposal than what our intel previously suggested."

Hedda filed that sobering thought away for future reference. "Apparently. They've used them well here. The enemy has no hope of catching up to them now."

The two ZAFT destroyers which had been further back in the debris field were only now getting up to top speed, and the Epicurus already had an insurmountable lead over them. As for the Avogadro, her engines had been hit particle beam fire courtesy of Terminal's two remaining GuAIZs, which had been free to engage the ship at will since her ZAKU Warriors were now destroyed. While the Avogadro looked to be in shape to at least limp back home, she would not be running down prey anytime soon.

"This flotilla can't catch them now," Frederik corrected, "I'm sure ZAFT will have others take up the chase."

Hedda nodded. "True. That's for Terminal to deal with, though. We've done our part. Recall the mobile suits and Raven's Eye drones, and then commence withdrawal. Best that we be far away from here before ZAFT reinforcements arrive."

….

"Looks like it's Paris, then," Heero muttered after the latest transmission from Terminal's Eurasian Federation allies ended, "As we feared."

Granted, that could still change; the Atlantic Federation's new aerial dreadnought, according to the most recent report, did not appear to have committed to a specific attack yet. However, the update Heero and his team had just received indicated that a massive missile bombardment of the Eurasian Federation forces in northern France was underway, and the fact that it coincided with Sovereign's current position being the southeastern portion of the British Isles pointed to an impending assault. With the sheer volume of ordinance that the Atlantic Federation was throwing into the bombardment, they might as well have been telegraphing the dreadnought's intended target for all to see.

It's possible that the bombardment could be part of a diversionary operation, Heero considered, and that the dreadnought could be after a different target. Still, with all the resources that the Atlantic Federation's putting into these missile attacks… it seems a bit much for a feint. Well, if the dreadnought does end up going for another objective, our friends in Europe will report it long before we arrive.

There would unfortunately be plenty of time for new reports to come in before Heero and his team would be able to act. The Orb Union was practically on the opposite side of Earth from Europe, which meant it was a long flight. Wing Zero Albion and Epyon Revenant were presently the fastest Gundams in Terminal's arsenal, but since they were currently flying with Gundams that did not possess the incredible Voiture Lumiere propulsion system and it was critical that the team arrive together for maximum combat effectiveness, they could not go to full top speed. Even if they could, though, the sheer distance involved was its own immutable law.

That was part of the reason why Heero was constantly checking intel updates and fine-tunning the operational plan with his comrades. Practicality also played a role; since they had time, it made sense to make the most of it. Between reviewing the combat data from Athrun and Wufei, and assessing what capabilities their allies could bring to bear when the battle commenced, Heero had his hands full. It wouldn't just be Terminal and the Eurasians taking on Sovereign and her Mobile Dolls: the North American resistance had revealed in their response to his request for aid that they possessed a formidable asset which would be crucial in taking down the target. The nature of that asset had given Heero no small cause for concern once he'd learned the details of it, but those worries could be addressed later. Destroying Sovereign was the single overriding priority right now, and he would take all the help he could get.

However, keeping himself occupied with intel review and planning during the flight, however practical those activities might be, was chiefly a means for Heero to distract himself from one bitter fact; in a sense, Terminal had already failed. There was just no way that Heero's team would make it to Europe before Sovereign could commence its attack, whether the target be Paris or another major population center. The Eurasian Federation armed forces would be on their own, and while Heero did not doubt their bravery, the data from Athrun and Wufei had already made it clear just how badly outmatched Europe's defenders would be, especially against the Mobile Dolls.

The stated purpose of the mission was to defend Europe from this new nightmare unleashed by the Atlantic Federation. However, the truth was darker. Heero's team wouldn't be arriving in time to defend Europe, not before Sovereign and her Mobile Dolls could claim potentially countless innocent lives. They wouldn't be defending Paris or whatever major population center the dreadnought had in its sight.

They'd be avenging a mass grave.

….

Lieutenant Lance Allard, of the Eurasian Federation French Regional Command's 34th Tactical Air Superiority Squadron, was not having a good day. It had gotten off to a bad start when he'd been rudely roused from much needed sleep by blaring alarms, and things had just gone downhill from there. At thirty-three years old, possessing a quite tall and lanky build, the blond-haired and blue-eyed man had practically been living in the cockpit of his Jet Dagger-L since the Atlantic Federation's invasion of Europe commenced, and he'd been enjoying a rare reprieve from action when the enemy's latest offensive had begun. He'd spent all day with his squadron shooting down missiles, mobile suits, and even old F-7D Spearhead fighters which had been pouring across the English Channel, and it looked like he and his comrades would be continuing their work well into the night at this rate.

"Heads up, everyone!" called out 34th's leader, Lieutenant Commander Jules Rousseau, "AWACS reports the next wave's incoming, and there's a big fish right behind it."

Lance's eyes narrowed as he picked off a Jet Windam with a well-placed particle beam. "That dreadnought that stomped ZAFT into dirt, sir?"

"That'd be it," Jules confirmed as he let fly with the last of his Jet Dagger-L's air-to-air missiles, successfully intercepting an incoming cruise missile.

"Merde!" Lance hissed while tanking return fire from another Jet Windam on his shield, "Sir, we don't have the firepower to take on that beast!"

His commanding officer grunted. "Don't need to tell me twice."

Lance dared let himself hope. "Command's going to pull us back, right?"

Jules snorted ruefully. "I wish. No such order's come in. Until we hear otherwise, we're the first line of defense."

"Damn it," Lance muttered as he shot down the Jet Windam that had been firing at him earlier.

It was not as if the 34th was fighting alone on the northwestern front. Not only were several additional squadrons of Jet Dagger-Ls and Jet Windams operating alongside them, but ever since the siege of Paris had begun the French Regional Command forces had dug into a series of formidable defensive fortifications. As a result, the 34th and her accompanying squadrons were backed up by massed arrays of anti-air guns and surface-to-air missile launchers, while mobile suits equipped with surface-oriented loadouts were stationed alongside tanks and armored fighting vehicles to fend off further ground assaults. The defensive lines that had been so hastily assembled during the frantic opening days of the Atlantic Federation's invasion were now built up to the point that they'd give even the incredibly comprehensive trench networks of the First World War a run for their money. Even if the enemy managed to breach the 34th's position, additional units were set behind them to provide defense in depth.

However, the enemy's bombardment had been raging all day, and the Atlantic Federation seemed to have an endless supply of missiles to expend. By contrast, the forces defending Paris had to be much more judicious with their ammunition; resupply had proven difficult even as enemy forces in the rest of the European continent were being repulsed, with airdrops being the most consistent way to bypass the besieging units and keeping the local Eurasian defenders in the fight. Stockpiles from the bases surrounding the city had been extensive, but the near-constant fighting had reduced even those formidable arsenals considerably.

Bad enough that we're having to deal with this bombardment, Lance thought, but now that dreadnought's coming for us. The Intelligence people were saying that not even ZAFT's best mobile suits could so much as scratch her. What chance do we have?

He tried not to dwell on it, instead focusing his attention for now on what he could take down. Particle beams, shells and missiles flew forth from Paris's defenders as the horizon filled with incoming Atlantic Federation ordinance. By themselves, the cruise missiles being hurled at the defenders weren't anything unusual and not particularly difficult to shoot down, but there were so damn many of them that it was simply impossible for the Eurasian Federation forces to intercept them all. Even as Lance drew a small measure of satisfaction with every warhead that he successfully blew out of the sky, that was far outweighed by an ever-increasing sense of despair as other missiles found their targets, hammering the Eurasian fortifications. The enemy seemed to be concentrating their fire on the surface-to-air missile batteries, and a disturbingly large amount of them were winking out of existence on Lance's display.

How many cruise missiles were in this wave? Several hundred? A thousand? More? Undoubtedly, either an AWACS crew or some analyst behind the lines was running those numbers and would eventually give an exact count, but that was academic as far as Lance was concerned. His display was so filled with crimson dots designating individual warheads that Lance felt like he and his comrades were trying to shoot down every piece of hail unleashed from storm clouds above.

Of course, it was not just the missiles that the defenders had to worry about. Following the incoming ordinance were Jet Windams, Jet Dagger-Ls, and F-7D Spearheads, and they wasted no time in adding their armaments to the mix. In particular, the enemy air units were focusing on unleashing mass volleys of air-to-air missiles, meaning Lance and his friends had to take out the cruise missiles while worrying about be blown out of the sky themselves. Even as the surviving surface-to-air missile batteries returned fire and gave the approaching hostiles something else to worry about, Lance grimaced as he saw friendly units fall from the sky as trails of smoke and flame.

His cockpit alarms blared as two air-to-air missiles zipped towards him, and only frantic fire from his beam rifle and CIWS was enough to save Lance's life. He managed to take out the source, in this case a Jet Windam, with a follow up volley of particle beams, but that provided little reprieve. Lance was constantly shifting his aim between cruise missiles and threats targeting him or his comrades, and the effort was beginning to wear on him. The tension was manifesting itself in the form of a small but steadily-growing headache, and he was practically drenched from head-to-toe in sweat. His fingers clutched the controls in a death-grip, with the French pilot half-seriously wondering if the ground crews would have to pry them off when he returned to base.

If he returned to base.

This isn't a Euro match, he silently reminded himself, There's no half-time break here, so suck it up.

Still, he dared hope for a minor respite as the cruise missile barrage eventually began to thin out. The previously-aggressive Atlantic Federation air units likewise started pulling back, though it was too early to say if they would actually withdraw or were merely regrouping. While the Eurasians were hurting, Lance knew that they'd been giving as good as they got; the Atlantic Federation losses were definitely mounting if the reduced number of red dots on his sensor display was anything to go by.

Then an alarm sounded, and Lance bit back a curse as he remembered what his flight lead had relayed from AWACS earlier. Checking his sensors again, he could see a massive contact at the edge of detection range; the dreadnought had arrived. Worse, she wasn't alone. Lance's eyes narrowed as his sensors struggled to determine what the contacts surrounding the massive airborne warship were. The smallest were obviously mobile suits, or rather Mobile Dolls, but there were also a dozen other contacts that, while obviously smaller than the dreadnought, were still significantly larger than conventional mobile suits, manned or otherwise. Zooming his optical sensors in on the closest one, Lance blinked in confusion. The strange scallop-shaped aircraft appeared to be an aerial mobile armor, something that had never been fielded before. From what Lance understood, even operating a mobile armor at or near surface level was incredibly difficult, though that hadn't stopped the Atlantic Federation from developing and fielding machines for just that role. These new units were operating at a much higher altitude than those previous mobile armors, though, which would've required a substantial amount of power given their weight and the need to fight against Earth's gravity.

"The beast is here!" Jules announced, "Got an update from AWACS; from what they're detecting, it seems those machines around the dreadnought are nuclear powered."

"That explains it." Lance muttered before raising his voice, "Orders, sir?"

"Command's tasking us with taking on the escorts," Jules replied, "Break left; we'll swing out and come at them from the flank. Go for the outermost machines and work your way inwards."

Lance nodded, falling in with the rest of his comrades behind the Lieutenant Commander. "Copy that!"

34th Tactical Air Superiority Squadron was made up of a dozen Jet Dagger-Ls, and while attrition throughout the siege of Paris had taken its toll, eight of them were still in action. The various other air units began fanning out, and it was not hard for Lance to grasp the overall strategy; envelope the escorts from the west and east, forcing them to spread out their fire and create gaps that could be exploited. It was by the book and not a bad plan in theory, but Lance was concerned as to how it would play out in practice.

Those Mobile Dolls, he thought as his brow furrowed, are going to be a problem.

Before Lance could even begin to consider engaging the new unmanned units, a series of lock-on alarms blared in his cockpit. His sensors were picking up a massive heat spike from the dreadnought, and the source became clear a moment later as scores of anti-air missiles poured forth from the flying leviathan. At the same time, smaller but no-less-lethal volleys of missiles launched from the strange airborne mobile armors escorting the warship, and Lance's overriding concern became simple survival.

He banked hard to the right, then immediately dived before climbing, throwing his mobile suit through a series of violent evasive maneuvers. At the same time, he popped off shots with his beam rifle and quick bursts from his CIWS while keeping his Jet Dagger-L's shield raised, praying he could weather the storm of ordinance now surrounding him and his comrades. His mobile suit rocked from several nearby detonations, including at least two warheads exploding against his shields while a third blew up just in front of his machine's head as it was intercepted by a lucky string of CIWS rounds. The vibrations from the explosions were so fierce that Lance nearly bit into his tongue, so badly were his teeth chattering.

As bad as it was, Lance could count himself lucky; he was, by some miracle, still alive. Glancing at his sensors, he was dismayed to see that three of the 34th's members hadn't been so fortunate, and at least two other machines were damaged. The other Eurasian squadrons had suffered similar losses, and as the warhead storm faded, the Mobile Dolls pounced.

His eyes widened in horror as Lance saw the black unmanned machines practically dance through the sky, twisting and twirling like demented ballerinas as they evaded the particle beams and missiles thrown at them by the Eurasians while simultaneously picking Paris's aerial defenders off with inhumanely precise return fire. Under other circumstances, he might've found their incredible agility and grace to be beautiful, but seeing as he and his friends were on the wrong end of it, Lance could only feel the pit in his stomach grow with each passing second as the terrifying truth set in.

This wasn't going to be as bad as he'd feared.

It was going to be so much worse.

….

As far as appetizers go, Nazara thought with a twisted smile, I couldn't ask for a better spread!

Flying above Sovereign, Nosferatu Dracul was flanked by two Krähe Mobile Dolls, circling over the unfolding engagement as the masked Colonel waited for the best opportunity to dive into the action. Between the dreadnought's formidable anti-air armaments, the escorting Proclus mobile armors, and the Mobile Dolls, the Eurasians were flying into a veritable wall of death, and the carnage was only just getting started.

The dreadnought's escorting mobile armors and Mobile Dolls were split roughly into two broad and roughly hemispherical formations, flanking Sovereign on both sides while also arcing up and down to cover lower and upper approach vectors. While coverage did thin out directly above and directly beneath Sovereign, that was only because any attackers that managed to get that far would then find themselves facing the brunt of the ship's anti-air firepower, and the defenders could always move in from either side to contend with the threat should the dreadnought's weaponry prove inadequate. Nazara's present position was ideal for providing overwatch and dealing with any threats who made it through the upper screen, though with how the battle was going the masked Colonel was no longer worried about such a possibility.

He'd give credit where it was due; the Eurasians were determined to make a fight of it. The Jet Windams and Dagger-Ls threw themselves furiously into the fray, while the remaining anti-air surface emplacements were unleashing everything they had left. Unfortunately for Paris's defenders, the prior bombardments had done their job well, with the Eurasian defenses now thinned out to the point that Sovereign could crush the remaining fortifications with only her armaments while her Mobile Dolls and Proclus escorts were more than sufficient to deal with anything still airborne.

It was now, as the flying behemoth drew near to the Eurasian defensive lines, that the heavy weaponry which dominated her lower hull was finally allowed to fire in anger. While Sovereign was unleashing volleys of Sledgehammer Mk. II missiles upon more distant targets, the Gottfried and Aufprall Dreizehn cannons below began spewing out streams of emerald and crimson death, respectively. Raining down upon anti-air and artillery emplacements which the earlier missile attacks had failed to silence, they utterly annihilated their targets, reducing both them and the ground they'd once occupied to superheated patches of slag and earth. Nazara grinned in ecstasy as he imagined the terrified and anguished screams of the victims, even as he reminded himself to hold some of that dark exuberance in reserve; after all, this was just a prelude for what he was about to treat the City of Light to.

"Yes, that's it," he whispered in sadistic glee as a few missiles made it through the dreadnought's screen only to detonate impotently against the vessel's positron reflectors, "Offer yourselves up as sacrifices for your homeland. We shall happily partake!"

Shifting his focus from the dreadnought's display of both firepower and invincibility, albeit reluctantly, Nazara turned back to the roiling aerial battle surrounding Sovereign. The Eurasian mobile suits couldn't match the Mobile Dolls for maneuverability, and they weren't even trying, instead keeping in tight mutually supportive formations to make up for their weakness in agility with overlapping fields of fire. It wasn't a bad tactic by any means, but it severely underestimated just how agile and adaptable the Mobile Dolls could be. As the initial particle beams from the Krähe, Guntrams, and Huginn and Muninn splashed against the shields of Jet Windams and Jet Dagger-Ls, the programming behind the unmanned machines ran its calculations and immediately made adjustments. The Mobile Dolls then fanned out further, with leading units making diversionary head-on attacks while others came from both above and below to take advantage of gaps in coverage, and they began picking off their manned opposition in a series of diving and climbing lightning strikes. Meanwhile, those Eurasian mobile suits which got close enough to engage the Proclus mobile armors were quickly finding out that these new air units possessed the same protective barriers as the warship they were escorting, albeit only with coverage to the top and bottom rather than comprehensive shielding. Particle beams splashed against the mobile armors' positron reflectors, while return fire from the units' missiles and CIWS kept the mobile suits at bay until Mobile Dolls could sweep in from the flanks for killing blows.

Those sweeps were already occurring, and with gruesome thoroughness. Operating together, Huginn and Muninn were leading the left flank's defense, their drones operating as lethal heralds for their mother units. Weaving through the enemy formations with incredible agility, the small drones swiftly picked off targets in a string of hit-and-run attacks, working together to catch their victims in deadly crossfire while causing others to scatter. Those isolated units then found themselves hunted by Huginn and Muninn directly, falling victim to either the Mobile Dolls' beam sabers or rifles, with their pilots often not even having time to put up token resistance before they were slain.

Truly fitting for the new age's spearhead, Nazara mused in malevolent satisfaction, Xen, you have my compliments. Project: Iron Legion truly is the dawn of warfare's next evolutionary epoch. An apex predator under our complete control…

…without pity or mercy.

His smug delight at the unfolding carnage was suddenly marred by a large explosion on the right flank. Brow twitching in irritation beneath his mask, Nazara turned to see that one of the Proclus mobile armors was falling from the sky, the blazing hulk missing most of the front scallop-like fuselage.

"What happened to Guardian Nine?" he asked.

"We have visual courtesy of Iron Legion's live-feed," the flight controller aboard Sovereign answered, "Forwarding relevant footage now, timestamped to just before Guardian Nine's destruction."

Nazara watched as the right monitor of his cockpit display shifted, showing the view from one of the Krähe units. While the Mobile Doll in question shot down one of the Jet Dagger-Ls which had been acting as a diversion for the Proclus's anti-air armaments, two more units of the same model had come at the mobile armor from the right flank and driven their beam sabers into the forward fuselage. The tips of their violet blades appeared to have pierced the missile magazines, and the subsequent detonation had ripped the airframe apart.

"They're already finding gaps in the Proclus's defensive coverage," Nazara muttered with begrudging respect, "Not bad…"

The units which had scored the kill did not have long to celebrate their triumph, for one of the Guntram Mobile Dolls was already descending upon them, destroying the first Jet Dagger-L with a burst of fire from its small shoulder guns before impaling the second machine upon its beam saber. Even as the first fallen Proclus was avenged, though, the Eurasians pressed their attack upon the right flank. Nazara would've admired their tenacity were it not for the fact that they were actually achieving results, with a second Proclus unit soon falling victim to a coordinated strike from three Jet Windam using the same strategy that had taken out the first mobile armor.

"Cheeky upstarts," Nazara growled as he gunned his engines; no longer would he play the part of spectator in this engagement.

Descending upon the Eurasians, he unleashed all ten of Nosferatu Dracul's drones. While he sighted in on a Jet Windam with his beam rifle, his support AI wasted no time in acquiring separate targets, and the sky was soon filled with a deluge of emerald beams that tore into the Eurasian mobile suits. The Krähe units flanking him added volleys of missiles to the mix, and the enemy survivors frantically began to pull back.

Nazara licked his lips in primal delight. "No escape for you, traitors!"

He fell upon them with savage bloodlust, with the Mobile Dolls following in his wake. The evening sky was illuminated by exploding machines, the terrain below inundated by falling debris…

…and the nightmare had only just begun.

….

Even when surrounded by a besieging army, Paris and her greater metropolitan region remained one of western Europe's crown jewels. With dusk giving way to proper night, the City of Light, or Ville Lumière, lived up to her moniker. Early in the siege, the city's administrators had made an effort to enforce 'dark periods' where illumination would be kept to a minimum to avoid providing targets for the enemy, but as the protracted battle had worn on it became clear that those measures meant little in the age of sophisticated optics and sensors; missiles were still finding targets regardless of whether or not the target in question had its lights off. So, those running the show had yielded to popular demand, and Paris was now lit up each night as a beacon of defiance against those who sought her destruction. The iconic Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, the Palais Garnier, and more shined brightly in all their glory, symbols of the venerable city's storied past and her inhabitants resolve to spit in the face of their attackers and make them pay in blood for every meter of ground.

Still, for the over five million people who called the Paris metropolitan region home, just because their government hadn't ordered blackouts didn't mean that the locals weren't taking the situation seriously. The rapidity of the Atlantic Federation's invasion of Europe meant that an organized evacuation of the area before the enemy had completed their encirclement simply was not possible, and everyone trapped within perfectly understood the gravity of their circumstances. Many who had previously wanted nothing more than to sit out the war entirely had volunteered for the home guard militias which had been swiftly set up once the initial assault on the city had been repelled, while others who weren't inclined or fit for combat positions took up supporting roles in first aid, logistics, and whatever else they could do to contribute. The city had large emergency shelters, but they weren't of sufficient size to house the entire population; contingency plans surrounding their use had operated under the assumption that broad segments of the population would still be evacuated, and that clearly hadn't been feasible here. As a result, metro tunnels, parking garages, and even the famed Paris Catacombs had become places of refuge for civilians who could make it there when the latest missile barrages commenced, while others sheltered in basements or simply rode things out at home hoping for the best. Curfews were strictly enforced by the local police and militias, and available supplies were tightly rationed. Sporadic air drops provided some relief for the city's food stockpiles, but it just wasn't possible to consistently deliver enough food needed to maintain such a large population through enemy lines, no matter how valiantly Paris's defenders fought each time to provide diversions for the brave pilots making the desperately needed supply runs.

Despite the harsh circumstances, morale within Paris had remained high. While the devastation of Berlin early in the invasion had caused a brief panic, word of subsequent attacks on Vienna and Moscow being repulsed had worked wonders for public mood. News of the strikes on major staging grounds for the invasion in the British Isles had also been a major shot in the arm, especially as it meant the enemy's capacity for continuing to supply their invasion of the continent was now severely hampered. Those buoyed attitudes had only risen further as news of the Atlantic Federation troops being steadily dislodged from the wider continent had filtered in, and the populace's understanding was that northern France remained one of the few regions where the enemy operated in force. Broadcasts from Moscow had declared breaking the siege of Paris to be a top priority, and the military had made no secret of the forces they were gathering in central Europe for that long-awaited attack. As far as the Parisiens were concerned, they just needed to endure for a while longer, and their attackers would eventually be thrown back into the sea.

As a result, when the sirens sounded that night, the inhabitants of Paris figured it was just more of the same; another petty and spiteful round of cruise missiles from vicious bastards who couldn't hope to conquer them, who were just seeking to inflict suffering before they were inevitably forced to retreat. They would ride out this attack, just as they had all those that had come before, and they would rise from their shelters to greet their neighbors with pride as the dawn came.

Only those with contacts within the Eurasian Federation military had any inkling that tonight's attack would be different. Those who resided in the northwest of the Paris metropolitan area, and who had a mind to pay attention to what was happening beyond the sirens, would have noticed that the city's defenders were scrambling every possible unit they could muster along that front. They might even have noticed a few badly mangled mobile suits limping back from the battlefield while every reserve unit was hastily mustered and launched. Were they particularly bold and eagle-eyed, they might have seen that behind the swarm of tiny glowing dots on the horizon that were the telltale thruster fire of incoming missiles was a much larger trail of blue-white fire.

Not that it would have done them any good. Unbeknownst to those who called Paris home, a monster had the City of Light in its sights.

And it would not be satisfied until their home was turned into a lake of blood and fire.

….

Sitting in the hardened command bunker that had become his home since the invasion began, Brigadier General Mathieu Neuville was the eye of a frantic storm. At least, that was how others would perceive him. A rather large and muscular individual, with greying brown hair and glacial blue eyes, he always made it a point to appear calm and collected before his subordinates even when he was anything but internally. Knowing what was bearing down on his countrymen now, it was taking every bit of restraint he possessed to keep his true feelings from breaking through as bad news flooded into the command bunker.

"39th TASS has been completely wiped out! 43rd has been pulled out with eighty percent casualties!"

"12th Anti-Air Brigade reports their radar's been destroyed! Rerouting their connection to 15th's now."

"Final exterior line on the northwestern front has been breached! City radar has targets lit up; interior defense batteries are firing!"

"19th Home Guard reports civil government evacuation to the catacombs has stalled. They almost had a stampede!"

On and on the bad news went, a deluge of dark tidings that would undoubtedly only get worse as the night went on. Keeping his ears open for anything he'd need to personally respond to, the Brigadier General focused the bulk of his attention on the tactical display set into the command bunker's far wall. The image had initially started zoomed out, showing the multiple rings of the Paris defense lines in their entirety, but as the Atlantic Federation's latest assault had pushed inexorably forward, that image had become more and more zoomed in as one green line after another was breached by a wedge of red contacts, the latter of which were centered around one massive radar signature.

He watched as a flood of small contacts flew forth from the large one; another volley from the dreadnought's formidable array of missile launchers. Neuville could only look on as the warheads spread out, some disappearing early as they were shot down by the city's anti-air defenses, but most of these new red dots vanished from the screen while taking green dots with them. Based on the positions of the latter, Neuville saw that this volley had been primarily targeted at anti-air installations. A follow-up volley took out still more, only serving to emphasize what the Brigadier General had already come to terms with.

This wouldn't be a battle. A battle implied some semblance of a fight, and the Eurasian defenders had been plowed through with almost complete disregard by the enemy.

This was going to be a massacre.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it now.

….

The bangs of his black hair were matted to his brow with sweat as Private Pierre Roy rotated the turret of the M819 Shredder that he served as gunner for and let loose a burst of 40mm rounds. At 25 years old, the brown-eyed young man had been putting in what felt like non-stop work since the start of the day, aiming where their assigned radar vehicle told them to and hoping his rounds took down a missile. He could only pray that no warheads were aimed directly at his position, for the M819 Shredder was basically a CIWS set on the back of a truck. It was a relatively cheap platform meant for rapid emergency anti-air and missile interception, but while it could spew out rounds at a ferocious rate, it could not take a hit. As the gunner, Pierre occupied a completely exposed position that he tried his best to avoid thinking about. He could take grim solace in the fact that hundreds of other grunts were stuck in the same boat as him, their units having been spread out across the Paris metropolitan region to provide a desperate last-ditch backstop to the main anti-air and missile interception units.

"When are the bastards going to call it a night?" he grumbled.

The answer seemed to be 'not anytime soon' if the new directions he received from the radar truck a moment later were anything to go by. Slightly altering his aim but still tracking towards the northwest, waited until he got the affirmative courtesy of his headset and squeezed off another burst at a rapidly-approaching trail of fire. He had the satisfaction of seeing the incoming missile explode just a second later, though the relative proximity combined with his exposed position meant he got an earful of the blast. Pierre had unfortunately grown accustomed to that over the course of the siege, and he did not want to think about whatever long-term hearing issues would undoubtedly plague him down the line.

Full medical benefits, he reminded himself, I got those to deal with any problems…

…if I live through this damn war.

When the latest round of missiles finally subsided, Pierre dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, that'd be it for a while. How many munitions had the Atlantic Federation spent in their bombardment today? With the chaos unfolding in their homeland combined with the recent hits their logistics had taken in the British Isles, surely they couldn't afford to keep throwing missiles about willy-nilly.

"Radar, how's it looking?" he asked.

The response he got was disturbing to say the least. "Jesus fucking Christ…"

Pierre blinked. "Uhm… Radar? You got something?"

"What in the seven circles of Hell is that?" the radar officer murmured.

Pierre was going to ask for clarification when one of the men standing next to the Shredder pointed skywards, their face pale with mortal dread. "Marie mère de Dieu!"

Pierre looked where his comrade was pointing…

…and felt his jaw drop in stupefied horror.

Start "Broken English"

Illuminated by the anti-air searchlights was a monster of an aircraft. It was just edging its way into view, only the bow currently visible, but that was enough for Pierre to suddenly wish his uniform had brown pants. Nearby anti-air guns and surface-to-air missile launchers were already engaging this behemoth of a target, but Pierre saw the rounds and warheads alike detonate against a shimmering barrier of violet energy, having accomplished precisely fuck all.

Emerald particle beams then rained down from the floating leviathan, and the night was lit up by at least a dozen fires breaking out from the subsequent explosions. Terrified screams echoed both over the comms and in the evening air. Without even waiting for radar to designate the target, Pierre took aim and fired at the dreadnought, his completely meaningless efforts less a gesture of defiance than simply panicked instincts taking over.

Then the forward turret of the dreadnought let fly with streams of scarlet energy, and Pierre's terror shepherded him and the rest of the Shredder's crew to the grave.

….

For Parisians, a horrifying nightmare had begun.

For Nazara, what he saw playing out before him was a dream come true.

With the Mobile Dolls having fanned out to prevent any enemy air units from interfering, Sovereign was now free to show the world just what her arsenal could do in an urban environment. The Gottfrieds poured out a steady barrage of particle beams, creating a steadily expanding grid of fiery destruction. Punctuating the barrage came lances of red energy from the dreadnought's forward and rear turrets, outright melting any structure in their sights and leaving pools of molten slag behind.

The masked Colonel was overseeing this symphony of destruction, floating over Sovereign and enjoying the hellish spectacle unfolding below him. Getting to this point hadn't been easy; the Eurasians had fought bitterly, and while their efforts against the Mobile Dolls had only resulted in a single Krähe unit being destroyed, they'd been far more successful against the Proclus mobile armors. Five of the large air units had been destroyed, with the remaining seven now deployed around Sovereign with two on each flank, two up front, and one covering the rear. With major aerial opposition being decimated by the Mobile Dolls, the mobile armors were free to concentrate their efforts on aiding the dreadnought, with their beam cannons and air-to-surface missile launchers adding to the carnage on the ground.

And what glorious carnage it was. Office buildings, residential blocks, department stores, university campuses; all those and more were being reduced to blazing infernos. From his lofty perch in Nosferatu Dracul, Nazara was in a state of euphoria as he imagined just what the wretches on the ground were experiencing. Their homes becoming fiery prisons with no hope of escape as they heard the anguished cries of loved ones and neighbors, their throats choking upon ash and smoke, their all-consuming panic and agony as chunks of buildings fell upon them and trapped them in the ever-spreading inferno.

"This is the price for your defiance!" he declared over an open channel, "Do you hear me, Paris? This is the just reward for your treachery! We sought to protect you from the Coordinator scourge, and how did you repay us? By refusing to aid us in the struggle for Natural humanity's very existence! You have only yourselves to blame for your wretched fate!"

Blood pumping quickly thanks to his speech, Nazara slammed the accelerator. Nosferatu Dracul rocketed forward, clearing Sovereign's bow before suddenly diving. Deploying the mobile suit's ten drones in two simple line formations of five each, he poured out emerald fire as he conducted strafing runs. The occasional burst of anti-air fire or volley of missiles came at him in response, but the shells of the former had no effect against his Phase Shift Armor while the latter were simply shot out of the sky. Their pitiful defiance was repaid with prompt annihilation courtesy of Nazara's drones and beam rifle, the masked Colonel cackling all the while.

"Colonel," came the voice of the dreadnought's Captain over the cockpit speakers with a tone of cruel delight, "we have several notable cultural landmarks in our sights. I thought you'd like the honor of deciding which we destroy first."

Nazara chuckled. "Oh, Captain, do you really need to ask?"

"Eiffel Tower, then?" the Captain surmised.

"Yes, and make a good show of it," Nazara confirmed.

"Aye, Colonel," the Captain acknowledged.

Adjusting his position so Nosferatu Dracul's optical sensors were focused on the target, Nazara chortled with devilish delight as a salvo of crimson beams from the dreadnought's forward turret zipped through the night sky. The shots were well-placed, with the lances of energy piercing two of the wrought-iron lattice columns at almost ground level, cutting through them without so much as a hint of resistance. There was a moment where the structure seemed frozen upright in time, but with two of its four columns now having huge gaps filled only with molten metal and air, the great landmark quickly toppled, with the bulk of it landing upon the Champ de Mars in a heap of twisted iron.

"Your score, Colonel?" the dreadnought's Captain asked with eager anticipation.

"A solid ten out of ten, Captain!" Nazara answered with maniacal laughter as he descended upon the fallen structure, adding insult to injury with a volley of beams from his gun drones.

"Any target requests, sir?" the Captain inquired.

Nazara shook his head as he made a strafing run along the Champ de Mars, his beams setting the long public greenspace ablaze in an act of wanton vandalism. "Destroy any you wish, in whatever order you wish."

"With pleasure, Colonel," the Captain acknowledged with malicious satisfaction.

As Sovereign fired her ventral guns in all directions, setting entire blocks of the city alight, Nazara smirked as he saw the red and blue lights of emergency response vehicles racing through the streets. He fell upon them, obliterating ambulances and firetrucks, passing low enough that his optical sensors could actually capture charred corpses, or pieces of them, flying from the exploding vehicles.

"There will be no salvation for any of you tonight, my dear Parisians!" Nazara proclaimed over an open channel while Nosferatu Dracul's support AI had the drones spew green death every which way, "LOGOS casts its judgment upon you, and I have found you wanting! Your treachery defiles our blue and pure world, and it will be purged through cleansing fire!"

A cleansing fire that the masked Colonel was all too happy to spread.

….

Having learned lessons from their previous conventional warship designs, those who had brought the behemoths of Project: Reaper to life first on the drawing board and then their secret construction cradles had forgone the exposed bridge tower favored by older Atlantic Federation classes such as the Archangel or Agamemnon-series vessels. Instead, the bridge of Sovereign was set quite low in the dreadnought's upper hull, specifically where the frame slightly rose behind the mobile unit launch catapults. The interior was dimly illuminated while in combat, with narrow forward viewports to preserve armor protection forcing greater reliance on exterior cameras and the monitors that they fed to.

Captain Colin Dixon did not really mind such design features; he found the dark atmosphere of the bridge to be quite fitting given the nature of the mechanical leviathan under his command. In his mid-fifties, his once-black hair was now a very dark shade of grey, and his uniform hugged a rather lanky and wiry body. His cold blue eyes had a cruel gleam within as he watched the fiery hellscape spread across the City of Light with each passing shot from the dreadnought's formidable array of weaponry, and he was quite eager to see the inferno grow further still.

"Get the forward guns on the Arc de Triomphe," he ordered with a sinister smirk, "Let's see how it holds up compared to the Eiffel Tower."

"Targeting solution locked in, sir!" the chief gunnery officer announced a second later with more than a hint of excitement, "Ready to fire on command!"

Dixon chuckled and waved dismissively. "Don't hold yourself back on my account."

He watched the main monitor as two blasts of scarlet energy raced across the night sky, slamming dead-center into the landmark's apex. The twin beams melted through the thick archway, leaving only the two massive supports standing while the rest fell to the ground in a molten mess.

Dixon let out a sigh; the results had not been nearly as spectacular as he'd hoped for, despite the destruction. "Almost an anti-climax. Ah, well. What other pretty things do we have on our list for torching?"

"The Louvre hasn't been touched yet!" the sensor officer eagerly pointed out.

Dixon grinned. "We'd best remedy that, then. Gottfrieds, missiles; I don't care what you use. Just give me a good show."

"Aye, sir!" the chief gunnery officer happily acknowledged.

Dixon rubbed his hands together like a diner salivating over a sumptuous repast. All of Paris was his feast tonight, and he would gorge himself to bursting.

….

If the Destroy's assault on Berlin at the start of the invasion had turned that city into a picture of Hell, then Sovereign's sacking of Paris was an exercise in digging for Inferno's deepest circle. Every ravage that the German regional capital had suffered was now amplified tenfold in the City of Light, with Colonel Nazara and Captain Dixon determined to put on a show that would scar the world's very psyche.

Let the world fear us all, Nazara thought as Nosferatu Dracul's gun drones systematically obliterated a residential block, it's just means to an end.

A lock-on alarm sounded, and the masked Colonel saw a volley of anti-air missiles racing towards him. Surprised that there were any Eurasian forces left in this part of the city capable of offering even token resistance, Nazara was delayed in his reaction, only destroying the incoming warheads at the last moment with his CIWS. It only took a moment for him to get the launcher in his sights, and he blew it apart with a single shot from his beam rifle.

"Pitiful," he sneered, still operating on an open channel, "Is this all you can offer now, Paris?"

A reply came in the form of several smaller missiles suddenly taking flight from rooftops and the charred husks of buildings. Their size and where they'd launched from meant they had to be ordinance from man-portable units, and the Colonel didn't even bother to evade or intercept. The warheads found their target, but against Phase Shift Armor fed by a nuclear reactor, they had absolutely no effect beyond revealing the shooters' locations.

"Persistent cockroaches!" Nazara snarled as he gained altitude before saturating the area with a barrage from his gun drones, "I'll exterminate the lot of you!"

He looked on in malevolent satisfaction as his rain of energy toppled buildings and set fresh fires alight. Nazara took particular glee as he saw charred bodies get blown out into the streets by the force of the blasts, creating a scene straight out of an apocalyptic nightmare that would no doubt haunt any surviving witnesses for the rest of their lives. Of course, how long those lives might be was very much in question; LOGOS was not done with Paris just yet.

"Captain!" Nazara called out as he took his mobile suit into a steep climb, "What's your progress?"

"Most of the significant cultural landmarks on our list have been destroyed," Dixon replied, "We've shifted our prioritization to the city's emergency response and medical infrastructure. Care to join us, Colonel?"

Nazara cackled with manic delight. "With pleasure, Captain!"

….

Onward the nightmare went. The night sky was filled with embers on the wind and columns of smoke, a hellish orange-red glow punctuated by flashes of green and scarlet as Sovereign continued her barrage. With hospitals now on the target list, an already-gruesome night became so much worse. Patients in their beds, already suffering from horrific injuries, found their pain briefly amplified before it was silenced forever as energy beams tore through the buildings they'd foolishly believed to be sanctuaries from the beast in the sky. Medevac helicopters were blown apart on their landing pads or shot out of the sky, flying shards of sharp and hot metal from their rotors slicing through anyone in their path without care or mercy.

All emergency infrastructure was in the enemy's sights, so it was not just hospitals and medical vehicles being melted by the dreadnought's main guns. Fire stations were blown apart, while any vehicles which were already out waging their hopeless battle against the flames engulfing Paris found themselves the targets of Nosferatu Dracul's gun drones and rifle. Community emergency response volunteers were given no quarter, nor were the tents of triage sites.

All would burn tonight.

With the Mobile Dolls keeping Eurasian reinforcements in check, Sovereign and the remaining Proclus mobile armors had free reign. Air-to-surface missiles from both the dreadnought and her escorts spread out all over the city, leveling entire blocks and sending shards of hot concrete and metal flying everywhere, with gruesome results. Civilians, militia, and emergency personnel alike were mauled and shredded by the debris, and the streets of Paris ran red with blood and guts. Torn limbs, fried torsos, pulped heads, and other grisly bits of human remains were interwoven with wreckage of automobiles and buildings, with no discrimination between age or sex amongst the victims.

Those few media outlets with on-site reporters and camera crews daring enough to venture out into the raging inferno captured the unfolding slaughter and sent their images out for all the world to see, and many of them would pay for such bravery with their lives. The few that survived, whether by cunning or luck, would carry what they saw that night forever in their minds, their hard-won footage needed only for those who were fortunate enough not to witness the disaster in person.

Thus did the world look on in impotent horror as the City of Light burned.

Thus did the world listen as the madman orchestrating the savagery boasted and laughed over open comms for all to hear.

"Feast upon the ashes of the decadent old order! Gorge upon the fear of those cowards who abandoned their duty to Natural humanity! To all who would deny our glorious purpose; this will be your fate! You will all burn, and humanity will be purged of your weakness!"

Thus was the world reminded of a bitter truth.

Hell was empty.

The devils were all here.

End "Broken English"

….

One member of the global audience for Paris's devastation was Talia. Given the brutal defeat ZAFT had just suffered at Heaven's Base, her morale was already at low point, even if she hid the extent of her despondency from her comrades. After taking preliminary count of their losses and the damage suffered by the Minerva, Talia had spent much of the trip back to Gibraltar thus far compiling her report before turning in for some sorely needed rest. Unfortunately, she'd only gotten a few hours of sleep before being awoken by a call from Arthur, who had quickly informed her of Sovereign's offensive against France. Intellectually, Talia knew that there was nothing she could do; going back to sleep and getting at least a few more hours of precious rest would legitimately be a better use of time than staying up worrying about a battle that she or any of her subordinates would realistically have zero impact on.

Yet she could not turn away. Her gaze was locked on the screen, watching and listening to the newscast in silent, terrified shock as the Atlantic Federation's latest atrocity played out. With all that she'd seen so far in this war and the last, Talia would've thought that her capacity for shock had been thoroughly exhausted, yet it seemed as though the world had plenty of horrors left to offer. It was a good thing that she was observing the ghastly act in the privacy of her office; it would not do for Talia's subordinates to see her in a state of such open dismay and dread.

And guilt.

Yes, guilt. For as Talia continued to watch the Atlantic Federation's new terror weapon put the City of Light to the torch, a single thought echoed in her mind over and over and over.

This is our fault. We unleashed this nightmare.

Intellectually, she knew that such a thought did not make any sense. Sovereign and her Mobile Dolls were the Atlantic Federation's weapons; LOGOS were the ones in control, and this atrocity was just the latest to lay at their feet. Yet Talia could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility and shame for the act of barbarity that she was now watching. After all, it was ZAFT's attack on Heaven's Base that had prompted the Atlantic Federation to first deploy these new weapons. The overwhelming victory they had achieved against ZAFT had no doubt emboldened LOGOS, hence their immediate deployment of the new weapon against Europe. Of course, for all Talia knew, the Atlantic Federation had this latest atrocity in the planning for some time, and their defeat of ZAFT at Iceland had simply encouraged them to launch this new assault on Europe quicker than intended.

None of that mattered to her now. As she watched the living nightmare take its course, Talia could only lament in silence both the atrocity itself and the part she believed her nation had played in bringing it about.

"Gilbert…" she whispered as a single tear fell down her face.

"What have we done?"

Preview for next time!

With Paris reduced to ash and ruin, the Atlantic Federation's dreadnought and her escorts move on towards Vienna. While the Eurasian Federation throws everything they can at Sovereign, her progress is merely delayed, with Moscow's forces lacking any weaponry with sufficient power to overwhelm the dreadnought's positron reflectors. Europe's only hope lies in the form of a combined assault, with Terminal and ZAFT's top pilots setting aside their differences to take on the Atlantic Federation's juggernaut. Next time, on "Destiny's Call", Episode Thirty-Four: Aces United.

The Age of the Mobile Doll has dawned in the Cosmic Era…

…but the Age of the Gundams will not let it rise unchallenged.

Author's Notes: Ah, Gundam and war crimes, name a more iconic duo! I had thought of going into further detail with the Paris destruction sequences, but it eventually just became a list of famous landmarks being destroyed and that felt repetitive no matter how I might've tried to describe each one, so I just limited the famous structures being wrecked to a couple prominent examples and instead focused more on the broader devastation and its accompanying horrors. Nothing I could write would ever match the bloody, nightmarish spectacle of Hellsing's London massacre (seriously, there's a panel in the manga with a Nazi vampire literally eating a baby, I can't top that. Volume 6 of the manga, check it out yourself if you don't believe me.), but I hope what I did here serves as a half-way decent tribute.

Thanks for the input in the previous chapter's reviews regarding the political intrigue idea, I have decided to go through with it. It'll be the chapter after the next one. Seeing as Durandal will have just returned to the PLANTs and will have to face the music with the Supreme Council regarding his failed operation in Iceland, I figured that would be the perfect opening to showcase the internal power dynamics and scheming within L5. It'll actually be one of the running subplots, with some pretty big consequences down the line.

The Asgard and her mobile suits are from Titanic X's tie-in story, and it was quite fun putting them to use in the L4 scenes, even if they were only acting as a diversion for ZAFT. Like I mentioned in the starting author's notes, another ship from Gundam Wing: The Phoenix Rising will have a part to play in the next chapter, so you really should read that fic if you don't want to be completely blindsided. Your call.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Feel free to review, stay safe, and I'll see you all next time!