"A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool gets from his friends."
- Baltasar Galcian
Chapter XXV: War Over Caliban
Federation Lexington-class fleetcarrier Ark Royal
System R-751
October 8, GC 379
Blinking the final vestiges of haze, Sayla once again found herself having awakened in her quarters aboard the Ark Royal. Further on, she again found herself aboard the Ark Royal as it was in hiding, albeit now within a documented but otherwise unexplored star system rather than an abandoned city on a distant planet. She couldn't help but frown at this as she gradually rose from her bed; such circumstances were occurring more often than she liked. And it didn't help that, just as the first time had been against Garma and his fleet, this one was also against an otherwise superior Zeon force. How could they keep the fight against the Empire if they were continuously overwhelmed like this?
Unfortunately, it was what it was as Sayla again extended her Newtype senses throughout the Ark Royal and the space beyond. Nearly a week had passed since the ill-fated raid on Zorres, and naturally, morale was at an all-time low between her ship and the other three remainders of Wakkein's task force. Not that Sayla could blame her Earthborn comrades; the mere fact they were now only four ships out of originally thirteen, with the nine that had once made up a single salvo wiped away their contingent, was more than enough to emphasize what they were up against. Granted, part of the reason they were hiding out in R-751 was to await reinforcements, but as Sayla found herself picking up on from more than one mind aboard the Ark Royal alone, what good would they do? The Dolowa had more firepower and mobile suit-carrying capacity than entire space forces. How would tagging on more ships to their beleaguered task force help the situation beyond giving the Zeon more targets to shoot at?
Sayla, of course, knew that that wouldn't be the end. There was no way Fleet Admiral Revil could afford to let that horror remain on the loose, whatever he was up to in the present. Sayla may not have been in on whatever secret operation the Federation was cooking up to turn the tables on Gihren and his minions, but she knew something was happening. There were just too many signs not to be present, including the unusual concentration and movement of EFSF ships and mobile suits as of late. Not unlike the stirring of wind before a great storm, Sayla, even without her Newtype abilities, could see something happening, its clandestine nature enough to emphasize its importance to the war effort. Just as she also had an inclination that, whatever it was, Gihren was at least aware of it as much as she, which was why the Dolowa was out there in the first place. To snuff out the operation before it could reach fruition.
Like that's going to happen, Sayla thought wryly as she got up and went about her morning routine. She agreed with her former people that, among the Earth forces, the Ark Royal and her mobile suit force, especially the Gundams and her fellow aces, were to be feared. They had eluded her brother from Antillia onward, beaten Delaz at Juno, brought down Garma at Anges, and even decimated the Cosmo Babylonians, the latter while in drydock no less. If anyone could and would beat the Dolowa, it would be them, or at the very least, they would act as the killing spearhead. No, Sayla was not deterred in the least, no matter how much anyone else aboard the ship, including her fellow pilots, thought otherwise. Ultimately, the Dolowa would be destroyed, and the Federation would be one step closer to bringing the galaxy's weight down upon Gihren's inflated head. And she would take an active role in both events.
Of course, that still left the present problem. How did one go about hunting a beast such as the Dolowa? Tracking her alone would be difficult, considering she possessed a Mirage Colloid. However, if it came down to it, Sayla knew she and Amuro could likely isolate her simply through the vast number of presences aboard. And, of course, fighting her would be next to impossible; again, the Dolowa by herself had more in the way of firepower and mobile suit loadout than most nations' space forces, having been built for precisely that function. That meant they would have to deliver an overwhelming blow to her, just as the original nuclear strike at Zorres was meant to do, but how would they go about that? The enemy was obviously on guard for another possible nuclear attack, and Sayla knew the Federation, rightly so in her opinion, frowned upon colony lasers and other such weapons of unnecessary destruction. What other weapon could they utilize against such a monster?
Fortunately, Sayla had the distinct feeling that she and the rest of the Ark Royal would soon find out. Again, whatever Admiral Revil or whoever else was plotting, she knew none of them could afford to let the Dolowa roam freely, which meant it had to be destroyed now, more than ever. Thus, as she eventually concluded her shower, slipped into her uniform, and exited her quarters properly, Sayla resolved to wait much longer before the awaited answer was revealed. Only hoped that it would be just enough.
It wasn't quite the first time Fraw had felt such unnerving tension throughout the ship, but she couldn't help but feel that said tension was much more acute this time, even compared to when they had originally hidden on Anges. Sitting by in a mess, a cup of steaming coffee to one side and a datapad that contained various medical reports in front of her, the young doctor only wished she was so concentrated on her work that her ears didn't quite pick up the hushed conversations around her. Conversations that, while not quite foretelling of doom, certainly were not assured of their chances in the Ark Royal's latest assignment. Many of them could only wonder just how they would survive this one.
Not that Fraw could blame their discouragement, unfortunately, as she could only wonder how they would live through this new enemy they were facing. Being the ship's chief medical officer, she was not privy to the overlapping details, and she certainly hadn't witnessed the fighting at Zorres in itself. She was well aware of the new Zeon warship they were set to hunt and how it had overwhelmed their attack just before. The mere thought of the thing and how it had been described to her made her body cold, a great beast of a ship with unmatched firepower and could hold hundreds, if not thousands, of mobile suits. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised too much that Zeon had conceived and manufactured such a weapon, but that didn't help alleviate Fraw from the thought of it. Any more than it alleviated the thought of the sheer amount of destruction and loss of life such a thing could inflict upon the galaxy at large.
No, it shouldn't have only concerned her, she knew. She was the Ark Royal's medic; her job was to heal her wounded, not fight her battles. She could no more strategize a battle plan or climb into the cockpit of a mobile suit than Amuro could figure out which end of a laser scalpel to hold, the thought of which made Fraw laugh a little. However, it still bothered her, not simply because of her odds of survival with the rest of her ship. This "Dolowa" was indeed a terrible weapon, unlike the colony laser that had destroyed Juno not too long ago. It needed to be destroyed, somehow and in some way, but from how the hushed conversations were carrying about, they had all been lucky enough to survive when the thing had departed Zorres. Would they still be lucky the next time?
Ultimately, Fraw repeated her original thinking process. She was a doctor. Hers was not to worry about how the enemy was defeated but to attend to the survivors afterward. Instead, Captain Noa and Commander Law would figure out how to strike down the behemoth, while Amuro, Sayla, and the rest of the 13th Carrier Assault Group would be the ones to do the fighting. It was all their concern, theirs and not hers, especially when she had enough to deal with literally in front of her. Yet as more and more crew members entered the mess and began speaking in subdued yet audibly disconcerted tones over the very same subject matter, Fraw could not help but still feel…
Zeon supercarrier Dolowa
Scharnhorst System
It was so beautiful, so spectacular. What had once been a full EFSF battlefleet and planetary installation now laid to waste before him, various images of destroyed ships and mobile suits shifting across the bridge monitor for all within to marvel. And marvel Lutjins did, for such imagery was once more indicative of the power he now wielded through his flagship. A power that only now had been brought into the war, much to his enemies' despair.
However, Lutjins couldn't help but feel some melancholy, though not for any weak reasoning as lament or sympathy for the Earthnoids. This was the second Federal basin that the Dolowa had struck, and it appeared to be no more a rallying point for a (supposed) Odessa offensive than the previous one in Shetland had been. It's not that Lutjins truly believed that they would have come over Admiral Revil's staging ground so quickly, but at the same time, he would have preferred it. As many within Zeon were well aware, up to and including the Emperor himself, he had much bigger concerns with the Dolowa and her awesome power.
"Stand down from battlestations and recall the mobile suits," Lindermann commanded as soon as it was confirmed there were no additional hostiles nearby. Though she remained as cool and collected as she always presented herself, Lutjins knew her well enough by that point to see that she shared his frustrations and the desire for greater aspirations for herself and her ship and crew. "We'll cloak and set to warp once they're all aboard."
As the crew went about their new orders, Lutjins could not help but feel the vexation among them, the same want to face Earth head-on then and there. By now, their ship's power and capabilities at controlling her had since been established. And while they were serving their Emperor and nation well, especially given the criticality of their mission, the fact remained that they, and especially their ship, were all meant for more than just picking off backworld outposts such as this. Such would have been outright wasteful had it not been for His Majesty's ordainment of their mission, and once more, if the Feddies intended to strike Odessa soon, then it was best to nip them in the proverbial bud now and be done with it. Lutjins understood that, and he liked to imagine Lindermann and her crew also understood that principle. So why were they all agitated like this?
Ultimately, it was only a minor irritation and concern to the Vice Admiral. What mattered was that they were gradually working their way down to their true target, and every Feddie ship and mobile suit – to say nothing of the Feddies themselves – that they removed along the way was one less Zeon would have to contend with later on. That was all well for Lutjins in itself, as it meant less opposition for when they, at last, struck Earth, though, at the same time, he wouldn't have minded facing the Feddies at their best again as he had at Arcturus. After all, there was much more glory in defeating an enemy in full form as opposed to him being lame and crippled, and there was also the fact Lutjins would be avenging those that had died in the prior battle. How disappointed they would be – assuming the dead truly felt disappointment – at their killer being defeated otherwise so easily. If it ever came down to it, of course.
It took a few more minutes for the Dolowa to reclaim her innumerable mobile suits. Eventually, Lutjins watched as the warship came about, engaged her Mirage Colloid, and reentered warp, effectively leaving her latest round of desolation in her wake. Once again, Scharnhorst had been but the second Federal basin and associated fleet they had struck, and there remained many more for them to seek out and eradicate. And though they would do so, Lutjins and the rest of the men and women of the Dolowa, too, he imagined, again hoped that they would find Revil's pesthole sooner than later. All so that even greater concerns could be addressed.
Exiting his Act Zaku with more than his fair share of aggravation, Mallet once again wasted no time stripping off his helmet and allowing the cool air of the immense hangar deck to reach over his face. Although he had just exited combat against a fair-sized Feddie combat force, the Lieutenant Commander felt slightly underwhelmed. Yes, his body was physically taxed – the Act Zaku was a much different mobile suit to pilot from a standard Zaku, after all – but that didn't stop him from feeling let down from the recent battle. As his surname would otherwise suggest, Mallet Sanguine was a man who thrived on carnage and destruction, carnage and destruction that served the ends of his Emperor and nation, but still wanton bloodshed nonetheless. Yet, if those from whom he drew blood proved so lacking, Mallet found a little point in fighting in the first place, just as he did now.
Indeed, what should have otherwise been an epic battle in Earth's defense against the "Highborn Menace" had been little more than what the Earthnoids would call a "walk in the park." The Feddies had been numerous in this battle, certainly, but none of them had been up to challenge Mallet's mettle, and it well and truly bothered him. Not that he should have expected the Feddies in Scharnhorst to have been a real challenge, he knew, but he would have at least liked to have fought an opponent of reasonable skill, much as he had as far back as Arcturus so long ago. Unfortunately, he had not encountered any such adversary, and as a result, the "battle" had been little more than a mopping-up operation and, for Mallet at least, a general waste of time. Was it going to be like this throughout Dolowa's whole voyage? He feared the prospect and thought that this wild goose chase for Fleet Admiral Revil's supposed base would last the remainder of the war. Mallet definitely wouldn't like that, hopping from star system to star system to slaughter Earth's least capable while the rest of Zeon went on to conquer the galaxy. No, he wouldn't like that at all…
A familiar presence soon approached him, causing Mallet to smile a little as he felt her touch down on the deck just behind him. I'm fine, Lilia, he affirmed to his subordinate, the only other on the entire ship that shared his gift, whatever it was. Nothing that you need to concern yourself over.
Though not entirely convinced of her commander's disposition, Lilia accepted his claim. As you say, sir, she responded. Though, like you, I found this battle rather…pointless.
Mallet let out a small laugh as he turned to her. As you should, Lieutenant, he answered back. There is no glory to be had in slaughtering the weak and powerless, no matter if they carry weapons or not.
Lilia nodded to this, having come to much the same conclusion herself. As high and superior born as they were, it hardly warranted their efforts to persecute and decimate those who could not hold against them. Granted, a fair portion of the war did entail just that – the sundering of worlds and star systems of their lowborn populaces as directed by the Emperor himself – but others could employ such boundless slaughter. Like her Commander, Lilia Flaubert was a warrior and would not lower herself to such distasteful practices, no matter how necessary they were for Zeon.
You think… Lilia found herself posturing to her CO. Do you think we'll end up fighting them again?
Mallet's smile deepened as he felt his subordinate recall her previous battle with the Valkyrie. It strangely prided him to see that his protégé had received a taste of true battle and now desired to have more of it. And, of course, he certainly wouldn't have minded going against the White Devil again, as much as they had brushed off their opposition at the time. It was strange how much one realized what one had only after the fact.
Anything is possible, Mallet responded. As bludgeoned they had ended up, they would unlikely abandon their pursuit so easily. Any more than Sayla Mass or this Amuro Ray being opponents to turn away from the likes of us.
Much to her commander's pride, Lilia took some measure of hope in that.
No, Zorres will not be our last battleground with them, Mallet assured much more, himself daring to anticipate. They're out there now and already planning for the next encounter…
Federation Lexington-class fleetcarrier Ark Royal
System R-751
"And Scharnhorst makes two," Sleggar glowered angrily and despondently as he threw down the datapad. "With still so many more places for them to hit and not so much as break a sweat against, in this sector alone."
"Yes, far too many," Bright agreed as he sipped his teacup, trying and failing to hold back his ire at the prospect. No, he wasn't in a great rush to face the Dolowa and her hordes again – especially with only one battlecruiser and two standard cruisers to fight alongside – but that didn't mean the captain of the Ark Royal was any more inclined to let the Zeeks run around unchallenged as they were. Somehow and some way, they had to get back into the hunt, but for that, it required a plan, to say nothing of reinforcements. He, Sleggar, and everyone else were now waiting on those two things. "Unfortunately, it would hardly do us any favors to go after them as we are now, Sleggar."
"Agreed wholeheartedly, Bright," Sleggar replied as he raised his teacup, extending his pinky finger rather deliberately as he took a sip. "But simultaneously, we can't just sit here and let that thing rip apart all the space around us. One way or the other, we have to go back after it, and soon."
"Unfortunately," Bright breathed, not for the first time wishing he was back on Earth with his wife and daughters in the present. "How are your pilots holding up on it?"
"About as well as you would otherwise expect," the CAG shrugged in a way that told Bright the situation was more or less 'standard.' "They're not despondent and anticipating the end like they were at Anges, but we're all knee-deep in it again, and there's no changing that opinion."
Bright nodded to this. "It's much the same with the crew," he concurred. "We're not cornered, not yet anyway, but…"
"How will we get out of this one?" Sleggar finished for his fellow commander, giving off a small yet wry grin.
A grin that Bright found himself matching. "We seem to ask that question an awful lot, don't we?" he posited toward the CAG.
Sleggar nodded himself. "Since Arcturus," he said, raising their cups to the other as they took deeper drinks.
No sooner than when they completed the ceremony did Bright's wristcom sound. "Bridge to Captain Noa," Mirai called from the other end.
Sighing as he put his cup down, Bright tapped the wristcom. "Noa here," he replied. "This better be good news, Mirai."
"Yes, sir," Mirai confirmed with more than a little semblance of hope. "The Magellan reports that reinforcements are en route as we speak. ETA four hours."
All at once, Bright and Sleggar both became more interested. "Do we know what those reinforcements are?" Sleggar inquired.
"We do," Mirai assured. Both men knew Mirai's smile, which they could pick up through the commlink, extended as she added. "It's the Enterprise."
At that, Bright and Sleggar both looked at each other in full understanding. Enterprise, as befitting of her name – which remained legendary even in the Galactic Century – was one of the five remainders of the Lexington-class, effectively the Ark Royal's sister ship. For Admiral Revil to send her to join the hunt only underlined its sheer vitality while also emphasizing another key fact.
"It has been instructed that all ship captains and mobile suit commanders are to meet aboard the Magellan upon her arrival," Mirai said, stating that a plan had been put forward. Granted, that could mean anything in the present, but at least the task force wouldn't be going against the Dolowa in a cliched banzai charge unless that was the plan.
Ignoring such cynical apprehension, Bright nodded. "Very well. Keep us up to date, Mirai."
"Yes sir," Mirai dutifully responded before disengaging the commlink.
Allowing a small laugh and a shake of the head, the ship captain raised his teacup again. "It seems that the game remains afoot, Commander."
"Indeed, Commander," Sleggar replied as he raised his cup to match. "Follow your spirit and upon this charge…"
"Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'" Bright finished the quote as they downed the remainder of their cups' respective contents.
Zeon supercarrier Dolowa
Warp
"One more down, still many more to go," Lutjins summarized as he and Lindermann both looked over the holographic starmap, which marked the innumerable Feddie basins that lined – infested in Lutjins' opinion – the sector, any one of which could have been Admiral Revil's rallying point. Of those many dots, only two were marked in red, causing the Vice Admiral to sigh rather audibly. "I fear we could be at this for the rest of the war and the next, Captain."
"Short of that map somehow narrowing, Admiral," Lindermann answered, her frustration apparent. Though she had known their present mission would be a long and trying one, it still didn't do well for her or her ship to move around the stars like this, knocking off one backworld Feddie installation after another. Once again, the Dolowa had been meant for far more, and so had Lindermann and her crew.
And, of course, Lutjins had his own opinions on what his flagship should have been doing. "Unfortunately, that's in the realm of Intelligence or His Majesty's powers of divination, Captain. We can only go down the list they present us."
The Vice Admiral then disengaged the starmap, a very apparent frown across his features. "Don't misunderstand me, Captain. I am not one to question our Emperor's insight, and there are many indications that the Feddies are preparing to mount a large-scale operation, with Odessa being a critical target for them," he stated in clarification, not that he expected Lindermann to rat him out to the Stazi. "Having said that this is all very damn frustrating."
"Agreed, sir," Lindermann answered back to assure the Admiral that they were, in fact, on the same page. "I can understand His Majesty sending us out to obliterate this mystery base, but such should be after our target has been identified. Wouldn't it be better to assign the appropriate number of recon units to probe the sector for the latter?"
"It would, Captain, if those recon units were available," Lutjins answered with a shake of his head. "Unfortunately, we've reached the point in the war where our rapid expansion has caught up with us, and forces, having long been spread thinly, are all committed to one front or another. Otherwise, we would not have been in Scharnhorst in the first place."
Again, the Admiral shook his head, allowing the remainder of his present frustration to recede for now. "Still, that's not to say we have not been idle in our time," he assuredly told the captain. "I commend you, Captain, for your present accomplishments. Though neither star system held our target, Scharnhorst and Shetland retained considerable forces, more than enough to ward away any regular ship or task force. And yet you and your crew did well in sweeping them aside…"
"I would like to think the power of our ship, to say nothing of our mobile suits, had something to do with it, sir," Lindermann replied somewhat sardonically, as though the Admiral had forgotten.
Lutjins merely laughed at the insinuation. "Certainly, the Dolowa's power and legions are considerable, but what makes the difference is how you utilize them, Captain," once more, he shook his head, this time his frustration at a different source. "I've seen too many commanders that, were they in your position, would have simply thrown their ships and suits into the crucible without any dedicated plan or strategy. On the other hand, you are not among their number; you know how to make the most of what you are given to accomplish your objectives without needless waste or taking upon needless damage."
To emphasize, the Admiral reengaged the holographic projector, which displayed a schematic of the Dolowa. "Look here, Captain. We have not so much as suffered a scratch against our hull, and our mobile suit forces have only taken the lightest loss in numbers," he again clarified before Lindermann could say anything else. "That's not to say I consider the lives of your crew and the mobile suit pilots without value; I would certainly see them all return to Zeon proudly if I could. We could have easily taken more damage and loss from the Feddies in either battle, yet here we are."
"As you say, sir," Lindermann responded, trying and failing not to beam with pride. As proud as she was of her ship, very few within the higher ranks – whether Lindermann's fellow captains or the brass at large – understood that the Dolowa's power only amounted to so much. It was considerable, as the Admiral said. Not the solution to every problem, and though she could have likely won either Shetland or Scharnhorst with sheer firepower and numbers, Lindermann would rather gain her victories by how she used those elements rather than relying on them entirely. That being said, she appreciated that at least one member of the Imperial High Command recognized her efforts. "And thank you."
Lutjins himself understood Lindermann's plight and nodded in approval. Indeed, there had already been far too many setbacks in this war because the supposed "Highborn" had become complicit, often resulting in their "Lowborn" opponents taking great exploitation. He appreciated that the captain of his flagship—especially a ship as great as the Dolowa—was not one such, as he had just alluded to.
"Think nothing of it, Captain," Lutjins acknowledged. "Though we are still apparently far from fulfilling our primary mission, you have already gained a fair share of glory in this voyage," he disengaged the schematic at that point. "And as we narrow down to our intended target, I'm sure you and your crew will gain that much more."
Lindermann nodded again, this time daring to anticipate despite the arduousness. Though they were no closer to finding Revil's pesthole, they were killing Feddies, which the Admiral believed to be their most dangerous enemy. Surely, that amounted to something, especially as Zeon continued its drive to the Galactic Core.
Federation Montana-class battlecruiser Magellan
System R-751
"The situation has turned even more for the worst since Zorres," Commander Henken Bekkener, captain of the Enterprise, reported to the gathering in Magellan's briefing room. "According to Mayfly, the Zeeks have figured out Admiral Revil's rallying point in Bhatan."
The Commander allowed the resultant swell to die down before he went on. "Fortunately, Mayfly was able to intercept and disrupt the message to the Dolowa right before she launched, and as a result, it is currently on the space variation of a wild goose chase. The tradeoff, however, is that this is only a delaying tactic, and eventually Zeek High Command will out Bhatan…"
"Thus, we have to eliminate her before she receives the message," Wakkein summarized from his seat, a deep frown across his face. It had already been difficult enough to face that behemoth with thirteen ships and nuclear weapons to boot. Somehow, even with his forces augmented by the Enterprise and her mobile suits, he didn't think he would fare any better in a standard battle.
It was then that Bekkener flashed a wry grin. "Not quite, sir," he corrected, causing all heads to look up again. "Once more, Admiral Revil has changed the rallying point to Sevastopol, with those forces in Bhatan already in evacuation. The Admiral intends to use the situation to our advantage and has set a certain going away present for the Dolowa when she arrives."
The monitor flashed, displaying a rather curious device—or, more accurately, a collection of devices. Specifically, a collection of mirrors gathered and concentrated into a cross formation, with further images detailing how this "Solar System," as it was apparently called, was angled in line with the Bhatan sun.
"This is the Solar System, which in layman's terms is a poor man's colony laser," Bekkener explained, grinning sardonically as more than one head looked on in alarm. "Though the Federation frowns on colony lasers, for obvious reasons, there's a loophole somewhere that allows bringing together a couple thousand or so mirrors to reflect and focus local sunlight onto a specified area. We will hit the Dolowa with this once she reaches Bhatan."
"I don't suppose Mayfly provided the Dolowa's itinerary for that," Sleggar exclaimed rather dryly, doing well not to fidget as he looked upon that apparent superweapon. No, it wasn't a colony laser. So it lacked all the planet-killing goodness of that particular weapon, but that didn't mean Sleggar was any more comfortable with the Federation throwing things like that around. In this instance, however, he knew he would make an exception, as short of Amuro going full White Devil as he did at Juno, there was no way they could take on the Dolowa and her legions otherwise.
"More than that, Mayfly has made it so that the Dolowa will receive the 'corrected' message in four days," Bekkener spoke in as confident a tone as he could project, though more than a few in the briefing room could tell even he was dubious. "When she receives it, it is estimated that, at what we know to be the Dolowa's top warp factor, she will arrive in the system approximately sixteen hours later. The Solar System will be more than ready by then."
Though Bright was afraid to ask, he knew he had to. "Will Admiral Revil leave additional ships in the system to supplement us?" The other captains and mobile suit commanders all took on increased interest.
Much to everyone's relief, Bekkener nodded. "A fair number of ships under Admiral Forer will remain in the system to supplement you and to give the illusion that the rallying point has not changed," Bekkener explained. "Worst comes to worst, Admiral Revil at least hopes to deceive the Dolowa's commander into believing that her mission has been completed and possibly throw off the rest of the Zeek brass with them."
Bright and Sleggar couldn't help but smirk at this, wondering if that somehow hinted at Admiral Revil's belief in their chances. A feeling that Wakkein himself felt as he stood up and came to stand in front of the gathering, with Bekkener clearing the front for him.
"While I'm sure you all feel much the same about this as I," Wakkein explained, knowing better than to make believe that any of them thought otherwise of this setup. "This is possibly our most viable plan so that we will follow the Fleet Admiral's lead on this."
Though still apprehensive, the gathering was confirmed with a collection of nods. That was more than enough for Wakkein. "One way or the other, we're going to sink that bitch before she does any real damage, and we're going to do it in a way that will make Emperor Gihren himself loosen his 'Highborn' bowels," that earned more than a fair share of laughter, which Revil smiled in appreciation of. "Suffice to say I expect only the best results from all of you on this."
No nods this time, but the Admiral knew he would get just that from those before him. Once more, that was all he required. "Return to your ships and pass the message to your crews and mobile suit forces. We set for Bhatan within the next hour."
Zeon supercarrier Dolowa
Warp
Alone in her own office now, effectively away from her superior, her crew, and the war at large, Captain Sara Lindermann wasted no time in pouring the bottle of Zeon brandy into the waiting glass, savoring the sight as well as the sound of the deep brown liquid trickling into its next container. Another victory it might have been – one enough for her to earn high praise at the end– the day had been long and trying nonetheless. Perhaps not as long nor trying as it had been for the Feddies, but more than enough for Lindermann to feel worn and exhausted, despite her being a Highborn and all. She mused how the Earthnoids would take to seeing a Zeon as such if any of them had been left alive to do so.
As tedious as she and Lutjins found their present mission, hopping along from one-star system to another and all but hoping and praying to whatever deity that they come across Admiral Revil's stomping ground, the truth was also that it could have been much worse for Lindermann and those she led. As the Admiral himself had recognized, they had faced considerable odds that would have severely bludgeoned, if not outright destroyed, any other Imperial ship or taskforce, and not only had they triumphed over those odds with exemption, but they had done so with as little harm taken as they could get away with. And while Shetland and Scharnhorst may have been "backworld" star systems to the non-appraising eye, Lindermann knew that the garrison forces in either system had been considerable threats, especially if they were, in fact, among those forces that were to rally under Revil's banner for Odessa, wherever he was gathering them. As far as Lindermann was concerned, every Earth ship and mobile suit scrapped was one less that Zeon would face later, especially if and when the war at last returned to Earth as Admiral Lutjins so wished.
Though she was not quite as zealous, for lack of a better word, in her apprehension toward the Earthnoids, Lindermann could agree with Lutjins on one thing: the Earth Federation and its denizens were Zeon's primary foe. And not simply because Earth was perhaps the foremost among the Inner Powers. Lindermann couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something different about the Feddies, something that, if left unchecked, could prove detrimental to the Empire later on. Perhaps it was their seemingly unyielding spirit? Whether at Arcturus or when the beaten and battered Ark Royal had stood her ground against Admiral Garma on Anges, the Feddies never gave up the fight so easily, and they certainly loved to fight to the end at that. Or perhaps it was because they were willing to face Zeon directly despite all their biological and technological inferiorities? Lindermann had seen this for herself repeatedly, all the way into the present. Despite being so outmatched, the Feddies at Shetland and Scharnhorst had not shirked away from facing the Dolowa and her numbers, seemingly dead set on at least taking some of the enemy down with them. An admirable, if mistaken, mindset, the captain admitted to herself.
Taking a sip of her brandy at last, Lindermann ultimately decided it was impossible to isolate the point of interest. That, for whatever universal traits the Feddies held among themselves, the result was all the same. They were the natural enemies of herself and her empire and needed to be subjugated or destroyed when and where possible. Anything less than that conclusion would only result in Zeon's weakening later on, if not within the present, as though the Feddies' daring to strike Odessa wasn't indicative of that alone.
It was a strange mindset, Lindermann knew, for she recalled an old Earth naval commander, whose name she could not remember at the moment, having the same attitude toward the particular nation he and his navy would face in that planet's Second World War. Though the exact quote had been construed and misaligned as history progressed, one point that had been remembered throughout was the Admiral's intention to completely dominate that nation in such a way that he proclaimed that his military would have to march on that nation's capital and accept the terms of surrender then and there. Somehow, Lindermann could see that being much the same with the Feddies in the present, such that their defeat would only be finalized when His Majesty, Grand Admiral Dozle, or whoever else would go onto Dakar and accept President Hyran's formal surrender on Earth's behalf. Short of that, the Earthnoids would fight to the very end, Lindermann could believe, and they would do so with the same intent as those forces she had previously engaged. The purpose was to wound Zeon as much as possible before their inevitable demise.
The thought was quite sobering despite the present alcohol. Though the willfulness to fight to the last, to simply "scar" the enemy if one could not kill them outright, was far from unique to the Earthers, Lindermann had once again seen firsthand that it drove them more than any other strain of humanity. Perhaps that was the Earthnoid trait she had been searching for, which made them her enemy. Or perhaps such was only one element to the whole, and that the Feddies had even more going for them than even His Majesty himself truly realized. Lindermann found herself dreading the thought even more as a result.
Again, ultimately, however, such could and would be dealt with another day. For the time being, the war would continue without Sara Lindermann, at least until the Dolowa reached her next point of destination. Only then would the game restart, and the next line of Feddies would be eliminated, followed by more of their brethren until the true target was at last reached.
Federation Lexington-class fleetcarrier Ark Royal
System R-751
The best-laid plans of mice and men oft go astray, Amuro recalled from somewhere as he again found himself on the Ark Royal's observation deck, staring out into the surrounding space. More specifically, the ships that filled the surrounding space, from the immense Enterprise in the fairground to the battlecruiser Magellan and one of the Chicago-class cruisers that Amuro didn't care to identify. If anything, it was a point of difference from the usual emptiness of space. As a proud technophile, Amuro certainly appreciated the presence of those ships and the crews within. Both for the abundant familiarness of technology – Earth technology at that – and because, unlike at Anges, it was a reminder that he and his ship would not be facing the Zeon alone this time. Amuro hadn't fought alongside other Earth forces since Juno, which might as well have been ancient history now, and so he was quite glad that he and the 13th would not be going against the Dolowa by themselves.
Of course, that still belied the quote that had come to mind, as well as what the next "best-laid" plan would be. If they couldn't go against the Dolowa with nuclear weapons, then what other options did that leave? Certainly High Command didn't think nine ships, even if two of them were of the much feared Lexington-class, could face that juggernaut alone! Of course, considering what that very same High Command had made Amuro and his comrades do up to the present, he couldn't help but wonder if that's what the brass back home on Earth truly thought. His gut clenched at the notion and the idea of their now one-hundred forty-four mobile suits – assuming that the new ships were carrying full load-outs – being pitted against the Dolowa's probable thousands without any leverage. Even he, the White Devil, found that idea to be…
That will not be the case, Sayla said as she came to her usual place beside him, her gaze out toward the gathered fleet and its presence. Even our High Command wouldn't be so foolish as to throw away two Trojan Horses and the three Gundams so wantonly.
Amuro sniffed at the notion but ultimately decided Sayla was right—as she usually was. So what do you think we're going to do then? Another concert like on Anges?
Sayla laughed at the thought of it. As amusing and as admittedly entertaining as that would be, no. It will probably be another nuclear attack or some other wonderweapon that the people back home have concocted. Something that will destroy the enemy as a whole in an instant.
Amuro visibly frowned. I see.
Though he tried to conceal his despondence, Sayla was more than able to pick it up. You don't approve? she posited.
Are you putting an end to that beast? Most certainly. But… Amuro trailed off somewhat, memories of Juno emerging from within his consciousness. The thought of they, the supposed "good guys," having to employ something similar to the Zeeks…
Again, Sayla laughed, this time in soft understanding. I highly doubt it will be a Colony Laser. Considering the short time, it will probably be created for a singular use.
In this instance, Amuro admitted. But technology, no matter how baseline, does have a tendency to be reused later down the line, he stated, this time bringing images of nuclear weapons being used throughout the centuries – well into the present – despite their "only" having meant to be dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Sayla conceded the point. Perhaps, she admitted, eying Amuro curiously. Do you truly fear that prospect?
Amuro raised an eyebrow, suddenly unsure. What do you mean?
Sayla emphasized the thought of technology being used for such widespread destruction. Do you fear that?
Amuro was even more unsure now. Despite the apparent simplicity of the question, what was Sayla alluding to? As much as he wanted to figure it out, however, he answered regardless.
I fear it, Amuro responded, considering. That's not to say all technology should be non-destructive, and I certainly want our side to win the war, but…
He again frowned, this time more deeply. But I never liked how humans keep coming up with more inventive ways of killing each other. Nor do I want another Juno to occur, no matter how far down the line.
Without turning to face her, Amuro couldn't help but feel Sayla was transfixed at that moment, as though she was taking extra time to deliberate over his answer.
Do you not agree? Amuro questioned in return.
Blinking once, Sayla shook her head. Quite the contrary, I not only agree, she responded, then turned to face forward again, this time with a small smile. But you continue to impress me, Amuro Ray.
Blinking more than once, Amuro attempted to inquire about that. What about his answer that impressed Sayla so much? Surely, any real human being – even among the Zeon and their allies – would have given that answer!
Knowing that he would not receive anything so direct in kind, however, Amuro simply shook his head and decided to continue on with the moment. Regardless of everything, including his usual antisocial character, there was nothing more he wanted now than to be there with Sayla. Looking out to space beyond and all that lay therein…
Federation Montana-class battlecruiser Magellan
System R-751
"To the success of Operation Tirpitz," Wakkein toasted, clinking his glass to the two Commanders before him. "And that we may all return to those waiting for us."
"Indeed," Bright concurred, feeling more than a fair share of melancholy as the image of Emary, Margaret, and Cordelia entered his consciousness. He did well not dwell on those images for too long, so he took his drink alongside his fellows.
"If I may, Admiral," Sleggar spoke up after he downed his glass. "What do you think our odds are?"
Wakkein's grin was quite wry. "You don't want to know, Commander," he responded with a shake. "But at the least, it's better than no plan."
He then nodded toward the nearby monitor, displaying the titular operation at its fullest. "And who knows? Maybe we'll get the bitch this time."
Both Bright and Sleggar nodded in agreement, themselves looking upon the monitor with muted interest—both toward the fleet's placements and arrangements and toward the Solar System's positioning some distance away.
"It would certainly allow us to make that return that much faster," Wakkein admitted, raising his glass toward the monitor. Not having, or desiring, to add the always present 'if' to that statement. Not that either Bright or Sleggar would believe otherwise, of course.
