"In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable."
- Dwight D. Eisenhower
Chapter XXVI: Nemesis Games
Zeon supercarrier Dolowa
Warp
October 12, GC 379
Once more unto the breach, Lutjins thought as he watched the streaking stars move around the Dolowa, the latter proceeding to her next operations area at the best possible speed. No, the admiral did not think the Fetlar System would be Revil's rallying point any more than those previous systems. The fact remained that a considerable size of Feddie installation needed to be struck from the cosmos, and the Dolowa was the ideal vessel to perform the deed. Lutjins took some solace in that fact. At the same time, it likely would not bring them any closer to accomplishing their present mission. At the very least, they would be doing further damage to the Earth Federation's war effort, which would soften the Feddies up that much more, especially when Zeon found the Odessa gathering point and brought upon it the full wrath of the Empire. At least, that's what Lutjins purposely thought, as opposed to the counter that this was all some cheap prank that His Majesty was playing on him. Sending him and the most powerful ship in the fleet out to mop random parts of the galaxy while much greater glory was held elsewhere.
No, Lutjins knew his Emperor far better than that, just as he knew this was all vital to Zeon's conquest. Again, while the Fetlar System may or may not be Revil's pesthole, it still had a rather large EFSF presence, making it a valuable target of opportunity as any other. Not only would it strain the Feddies, but it would also diminish their presence in the sector that much more, from which the Empire, or one of its erstwhile allies – useful fodder as far as Lutjins was concerned – would have a much easier time in conquering it and moving on. As a bonus, using the Dolowa, a single ship, would conserve much of the Empire's ships, mobile suits, and manpower for other targets, targets that may otherwise have been too well defended had those same resources been concentrated on a system like Fetlar. That amounted to much, Lutjins knew all too well, though it did not quite soothe the frustration he felt from within. He feared that short of blind luck leading him and the Dolowa to their still unknown, unidentified target, nothing would.
Though the Admiral wished he did not want to think it, this mission was more and more like what the Earthnoids would call a wild goose chase. There was very little he or anyone else aboard his lone flagship could do about it beyond striking and hurting the Feddies as they went. What were they doing out there, hopping from one star system to another like this? Granted, those star systems had considerable enemy presences to them, and as Lutjins had highlighted, sundering them went a long way toward Zeon's final victory. However, it wasn't what His Majesty had sent them out there for, nor would any of those destroyed bases, ships, and mobile suits cripple the Federation as well as decimating Revil's combined fleet before it could hit Odessa. In other words, as the best Lutjins could describe it, they were striking glancing blows against Earth when they should be attacking its throat. Striking a delipidating blow then would inevitably open a path to the finisher. The Admiral's personal feelings toward well documented within the whole of Zeon.
All in all, the best Lutjins could determine, at least to himself, was that he wanted this mission over and done with already, not simply because he tried to attack Earth and finish what was started at Arcturus either. As he and Captain Lindermann both agreed, the Dolowa and those who crewed her and piloted her legions of mobile suits were meant for far greater than this. Piecemeal attacks against isolated Feddie basins as opposed to entire battlefleets, as well as a select number of mobile suits and support craft instead of whole hordes of Earth metal. The Dolowa was meant to be one ship that could, and would, stand against all that her enemies could muster, yet here she was, performing system raids that any adequately strength taskforce could accomplish. Hell, for Fetlar alone, Lutjins suspected that a good-sized fleet of eight, maybe ten ships could do what the Dolowa – a ship equivalent to hundreds if not thousands – was about to do with all of her overwhelming force. And again, she would likely be no closer to finding Admiral Revil and his forces than Lutjins would be to making that second run against his primary enemy's homeworld.
Alas, there was nothing he could do about it. He knew all too well. Only accomplish his mission and move on, rinse and repeat. Until someone back home made an identification, or universe willing, the Dolowa inadvertently stumbled over her target; this was all she and those aboard her would accomplish immediately. All the while, in some far-flung star system, the Feddies continued to gather for their assault. Which should they manage to succeed…
Suddenly feeling a presence behind him, Lutjins frowned at the unwanted intrusion. "I wish not to be disturbed."
"Forgive me, Admiral," the yeoman replied without any hint of intimidation despite the vast difference in rank and status. "But Captain Lindermann requests your presence immediately regarding the coming operation."
"Heh," Lutjins said without surprise and feeling some strange appreciation. His flag captain was fast proving herself to be one of the most capable officers within Zeon's muster, and for her to request his presence meant she found something else regarding Fetlar that they may have missed earlier and so wanted to fill him in on.
"Very well," the Vice Admiral replied as he turned around and straightened his cap. "Lead the way."
"Yes sir," the Observer, now attired in an unassuming uniform, saluted before turning and doing as commanded, leading the Lutjins to Captain Lindermann's wardroom. Doing well to conceal the knowing gleam in his eye from the Zeon flag officer as they went.
Federation Lexington-class fleetcarrier Ark Royal
Bhatan System
The task force reverted to normalspace easily enough, the motley collection of two cruisers, two carriers, and the lone battlecruiser entering the Bhatan System without much fanfare. Not that fanfare would have made much difference to Bright or his crew, however, especially given what is now laid out across the main monitor. Far from the picturesque world that was Juno, and certainly a far cry from Earth itself, Bhatan was something of a deep red orb within the depths of space, a basic desert world that held two orbiting moons, a surface environment akin to pre-terraformed Mars from the Old Calendar, and very little else. A highly unassuming world, both Bright and Mirai could see why Admiral Revil had selected it for his initial headquarters. However, they also imagined the Admiral was far more appreciative of having moved his rallying point to Sevastopol III, which was undoubtedly far more scenic by comparison. Not that the world truly mattered to the Ark Royal crew so much as what was around it and different intervals.
How many ships remained behind? Bright thought as he looked over the innumerable signals and corresponding forms of EFSF warships and mobile suits, all but dotting much of the system between their orbit over their "headquarters" world and their patrol patterns. If he hadn't known any better, Bright would have assumed that the entirety of the Odesa force had chosen to make their stand then and there instead of following the Fleet Admiral out to Sevastopol, at least before rationality set in. As vast as this force was comparatively to the miniscule Bismarck taskforce, it was but a tiny bit compared to the sheer number of ships – thirty percent of the entire Earth Federation Space Force to be precise – that Admiral Revil was bringing together to strike Odessa with. As considerable as it was, the force before him would hardly have been but one percent of that great force, though Bright hoped it was enough to fool the Zeeks aboard the Dolowa. He also hoped their numbers would be enough to take the supercarrier on, with or without the wunderwaffe that was the Solar System, which did not seem to be set up yet. Bright figured that would be deployed upon the Dolowa's imminent arrival.
"What the…?" Omar queried from tactical, blinking twice before an expression of disdain crossed his eyes.
"Omar?" Mirai inquired, curious to see what had put off the tactical officer.
Omar emphasized once more, blinking. "Sir, ma'am, you may want to see this," he said as he brought up a new tacwindow on the main monitor.
At first glance, they appeared to be additional Earth ships in Bhatan's orbit, but as the tacscreen magnified, the whole bridge crew immediately realized the source of their TO's disgust. There were not nearly as many of them as "regular" Space Force vessels and mobile suits, but they were there, the ships keeping to their formation above the planet while the mobile suits performed their patrols, keeping well away from their "regular" cousins. All of them were tinted in the telltale black of their organization, for lack of a better description, and all variously marked with a distinct golden eagle sigil with a star placed at its center. The same sigil that now emblazed itself on the monitor via IFF readout, as though to emphasize the unwanted presence.
"Titans," Mirai glowered in much the way Omar had. "What are they doing here?"
Bright could understand her disdain, as well as the disdain of those around him, even if he was better at remaining forwardly stoic. The Titans were Earth's premiere black operations force, specifically in dealing with enemies of the Federation well into the background. Though a de jure part of the Space Force in themselves, they answered to no one and made no secret of their contempt for the regular Federal Forces and the men and women therein. And that was before one heard the stories about the Titans themselves and the wanton acts they repeatedly performed in the name of Mother Earth. Even Bright could not say he was too fond of them.
"Signal from the flagship," Kikka spoke up, breaking the dark spell that had otherwise lingered on the Ark Royal's bridge, causing all attention to shift. "We are to touch down at Bhatan Base and disembark."
She looked toward Bright. "Admiral Wakkein requests that you join him in meeting Admiral Forer, sir."
Nodding, Bright faced forward again, doing well not to look back on those black ships and mobile suits. "Proceed, Katz, ahead one-quarter."
"Aye, sir," Katz stated as he brought the Ark Royal along with the rest of the task force, with the Enterprise and the Magellan – apparently also having been granted direct landing clearance – falling in. From there, it was simple enough for the three ships to enter Bhatan's gravity well and touch down upon the main EFSF base as stipulated, though the crew's discomfort did not recede at any point through the span. Especially as additional black ships and mobile suits were found to be on the surface, they settled upon their own section of the base.
Zeon supercarrier Dolowa
Warp
This is irritating, Lieutenant Junior Grade Gusta Piper thought in distaste as he sat by, wishing he had brought some tablet or projector into his cockpit. With Level One Battlestations having been sounded but a good few minutes ago, all he could do now was wait until the Dolowa exited warp and began deploying mobile suits against whatever Feddie pesthole they would hit. Until then, he could only stay with the rest of the ship, not even able to converse with his fellow pilots over the comm.
Damn it, the young Zeon soon found himself cursing, all but slamming his head back against his Act Zaku's cockpit chair in his boredom. It was the damned waiting that he hated the most. In many ways, it was even worse than the actual fighting, especially for a non-combat junky like Gusta. Oh sure, he fought for Emperor and country like the rest of Zeon, but as opposed to his commander, he had never become enamored with it, and it helped even less that, for all of his considerable skill, he was no Char Aznable or Ramba Ral. As a result, Gusta wanted to get out there and win the day for the Empire then and there instead of having to remain on standby as he was, especially as the temptation to contemplate his mortality began to set in.
Indeed, the more Gusta waited, the more he could not help but think about it, as he had off and on since his assignment to Esser Squadron. He was neither an ace like Commander Sanguine nor a prodigy like Lilia. Sure, he could keep up with them in battle and hold his own against the Feddies, but he could not hope to perform all the stunts and make all the kills they could. And he certainly did not share their thrill for battle, though he did admit he felt a fair amount of pride in his service to His Majesty through each Inner Power lackey he did kill. Even so, he could only "just" fight, as opposed to dominate as his wingmates could. To say Gusta Piper felt inadequate would have been a grave understatement, even if he was doing his part.
Still, Gusta supposed it could have been much worse than it was. At the very least, neither Commander Sanguine nor Lilia, nor anyone else in the squadron for that matter, seemed to view him as a liability. The Commander seemed to hold utmost faith in him because he had assigned Gusta to serve as Esser Three, putting him on the same team as he and Lilia. And as for Lilia, she also seemed to hold him in some regard, to the extent that they could be considered friends and comrades. Though she could be sharp in her criticism at times, especially over his piloting, she had never condemned him, and more than once had trusted him to look out for her and their commander while in battle. Surely, there could be no greater indication of their belief in him, yes?
And yet, the more Gusta thought about it, the more he could not help but be unsure. Certainly, they thought well of and trusted him; that much was apparent. Yet when it came to seeing him as an equal – even if only as a fellow Highborn – Gusta found himself questioning.
Shifting his mono-eye over to the two Act Zakus next to his, Gusta very much wondered. Though he tried not to think about it so much, he knew there was a connection between Commander Sanguine and Lilia that they shared and no one else. Nothing romantic, of course, but at the same time, that connection wasn't simply wingmates or comrades or even fellow pilots. Again, Gusta tried not to think about it so much, and as a result, he could not come up with an elaborate way of describing it beyond the fact that the two of them were a fixture. One that stood out among the multitudes that crewed the Dolowa, and certainly not something he was a part of, for whatever reason.
It bothered him, he could only admit. He did not know why it did, but it did. And not simply because he was left out of it but because it felt different. As though Commander Sanguine and Lilia were something else altogether, something that was beyond even their being "simple" Highborn or extremely skilled pilots and warriors. If so, Gusta, and potentially the rest of the squadron, were even more adequate to them than initially thought. A feeling that did not help the Lieutenant any…
Abruptly did the indicator on Gusta's monitor flash in notification. At long last, the Dolowa had exited warp and was setting up to launch her mobile suits. As a result, Gusta Piper dispelled any remaining thoughts on the issue, instead closing his helmet visor and focusing. All that remained for him now were Feddies to kill, victory to be claimed, and further marching toward the Galactic Core. Those three things, and nothing else, until the day was indeed won.
Space Force Base Bhatan
Ananke, Bhatan
Flanked by the two senior captains and his task force's de facto intelligence chief, Admiral Wolfgang Wakkein marched through the near-deserted headquarters toward their impending destination. Having been stationed on Bhatan as part of Operation Odessa, it was strange to see the once nearly filled building so reduced in occupancy, and the fact that it had deserted so quickly assuaged that feeling even less. For him, it was almost like walking through a ghost town or colony that had been a thriving metropolis a few days ago, especially when one considered the amount of brass that had originally answered Fleet Admiral Revil's call to arms. Now, only a select number of junior or middle-ranked officers were moving about, seemingly left behind in the great migration yet continuing to perform whatever duties were left to them and otherwise keeping Bhatan up and running. Anything and everything to help Wakkein supposed.
Eventually, he, Bright, Bekkener, and Miller came to the door to the office that had originally been Admiral Revil's, with Wakkein knocking twice. It shifted open, and the four entered to meet its new occupant, who was not Admiral Revil but was something of a legend in himself. Wakkein admitted that he had never personally interacted with Admiral Blex Forer. The man certainly had a reputation –coupled with his appearance as an apparent blonde rendition of Abraham Lincoln – as one of the more accomplished fleet commanders in the EFSF, especially in the present war. Upon the latter admiral turning to face them, Bright and Captain Bekkener snapped into salutes as Wakkein nodded, one colleague to another. "Admiral Forer."
"Admiral Wakkein," Forer greeted, his voice even sounding akin to an Old Earth Kentuckian as he reached out and shook his fellow admiral's own. "At the risk of sounding facetious, welcome back to Bhatan."
"What's left of it, yes," Wakkein remarked, earning a small laugh from Forer. Knowing that his fellow Admiral knew Bekkener, Wakkein introduced Bright and Miller to him. "Commander Alice Miller of Space Force Intel and Captain Bright Noa of the Ark Royal."
"Ah yes, our Trojan Horse jockey of the hour," Forer exclaimed as he nodded to the three juniors. He looked toward Bright in particular. "From what I understand, Commander, you've put on one hell of a showing up on your way here."
"I like to think my ship and I have done our part for Mother Earth, sir," Bright responded dutifully, taking a cautious approach. Admiral Forer seemed genuine enough, and again, his reputation preceded him, but Bright didn't know the man as well as he knew Admiral Wakkein and so reneged from speaking too candidly. He only hoped that his otherwise automatic remark didn't sound too trite.
Forer only laughed that much more. "Please, at ease, son, and you too, Commander Miller," the Admiral stated as he returned to his desk chair. The same is what Wakkein remembered Revil sitting at not but a few days ago when the Fleet Admiral had given him his orders regarding Operation Bismarck. "We're all friends and good company here."
"All of us?" Bekkener inquired none too hintingly.
Again, Forer laughed somewhat. "Yes, all of us," the Admiral stated in full understanding. "For as long as the Dolowa is out there, at least. Which, at the risk of offending certain sensibilities, will hopefully not be for much longer."
"Quite," Admiral Wakkein responded, taking a chair before the desk. Bright, Miller, and Bekkener both followed his example. "How long have they been here exactly?"
"Less than seventy-two Earth hours," Forer responded. "Honestly, I don't know what they're doing here, but apparently, they were sent out by Admiral Connery himself."
"That's a comfort," Miller quipped mildly, picturing the Titans' secretive commander, whose own reputation well preceded.
Forer nodded sympathetically. "Honestly, I'm not too happy about it myself, but considering what we're up against, the more the merrier," the Admiral flashed a conspiring smile. And at the very least, they sent over one or two things that may actually help us."
"Like what?" Wakkein could not help but take up where Bekkener left off. "G3 gas canisters to go with the Solar System?"
"Perhaps Admiral Wakkein," a new, rather brusque voice spoke up from the newly opened doorway, causing the three newcomers to nearly jump from their chairs. Tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered, the newcomer was dressed in a full black and red uniform that bore the rank tabs of a captain. However, even the uniform took a backseat to said captain's most defining feature: the red lensed goggles he wore over his eyes, which made his presence unnerving. "That is if we were here to eliminate Bhatan's rebellious population."
Frowning toward the man, Forer could only proceed with his introduction. "This is Titans Captain Bask Om," the Admiral proclaimed. "He commands their contingent."
"Indeed," Om affirmed as he came to stand beside Admiral Forer, gleaming in the face of the three glowering "regulars." "And suffice to say, it is as Admiral Forer stated. We're all friends and good company here."
The Titan Captain's smirk only deepened for emphasis. "So long as our immediate enemy remains at least…"
Just what are they doing here? Sayla did well not to glower or curse so forwardly as she, Amuro, and Fraw entered one of the innumerable hangar blocks containing an assortment of Guncannons in black and red. Though the equally uniform colored occupants immediately noted their entry, the latter regarded them with clear disinterest and returned to work. So long as their "comrades" in grey did nothing to hinder or obstruct them, the Titans otherwise could care less about the three "regular" Federals entering their territory and looking over their hardware. Some even regarded them as comrades-in-arms, which Amuro and Sayla picked up through their Newtype powers.
In any case, they were there, and as far as the three could see, they were there to fight. There was quite an abundance of black and red uniforms to go with the mobile suits, most of which bore the same golden eagle sigil somewhere on their person or chassis and more than enough self-superior egos to go with them. It was quite an eye-opener for Amuro and Fraw, who had only heard stories of the Titans and their activities up to the present but certainly had never seen any, much less operated in the same space as they. For Sayla, however, it was as though they were sharing a breathable atmosphere with one of her principal enemies. To say she was affronted at the notion would have been a light description, even if she did well to keep the bulk of her disdain off of her otherwise neutral expression. Again, what were these black-coated lowborn vermin doing out here? Wasn't there some defenseless planet or colony further out to butcher for its anti-Earth sentiments?
Doing well not to concentrate on the humans themselves, Amuro found himself scanning over the mobile suits instead. Whatever one thought of the Titans, they certainly kept their machines at optimum levels, perhaps a league or two above the average Space Force unit. The White Devil could not help but marvel at the internal framework of the Guncannons, which had to have heightened areas of performance alongside. At the very least, it would give their side – assuming they were, in fact, all on the same side – a fair edge against the Dolowa and her legions. Especially those new model Zakus that had given them such a hard time at Zorres.
Through his scanning, however, Amuro came across a particular mobile suit near the corner of the hangar, well away from the entryway. Identifying that specific unit, he felt his eyes widen in recognition, and the sensation was enough for Sayla to pick up on as well. Before the other Gundam pilot could turn to question, she felt a rather appalling and quite obvious Oldtype presence sift toward her. Said presence unabashedly, gazing over her and Fraw.
"Damn, look what we have here," the obnoxiously loud, obnoxiously brown-mustached man in black and red proclaimed as his eyes moved over the two women, completely disregarding both Amuro as well as the disdainful warning in Sayla's eyes. "What are you fine ladies doing in a squalor like this?"
Sniffing with contempt at having to acknowledge this particular man's existence, Sayla answered regardless. "Just passing by, sir," she responded, immediately noting that the brown-mustached man was a full Lieutenant. "Nothing in particular."
"Well damn, we can't have that, can we?" the mustached man gleamed, eyes shifting between her and Fraw while ignoring Amuro entirely. "How about you, fine ladies, follow me out in the town? Celebrate truth, justice, and the Earthnoid way before the big green bitch shows up!"
"An appealing offer, sir," Sayla let out as she noted Fraw move closer to Amuro, who was now affronted and prepared. For her part, Sayla wouldn't mind putting this particular Titan in his place, but at the same time, it wouldn't do well to reveal her Highborn superiorities so openly. "But as I said, we were just passing by and otherwise have our own…"
"Now, Lil' Miss Junior Grade, don't be like that," the Titan pressed on, clearly not recognizing the danger. "We're about to fight the biggest, worst thing the Zeeks can throw at us in the next few days, and any of us could cash in from the effort!"
The Titan's eyes gleamed even more as he looked toward Fraw. "Surely you want to make most of the time you have left, right hon…?"
At that point, Amuro stepped in, facing down the Titan with utter contempt. Much like with Sayla, however, the Titan didn't recognize the danger. "Move it, junior! These ladies are fine enough without you!"
"My apologies, sir," Amuro responded with forward diplomacy yet remaining firm. No, he wasn't frightened by this particular deadbeat – he had certainly got into fights with worse scumbags on Antillia – but he would rather avoid beating the living hell out of him with the other Titans so near. Two in particular – a black-haired, tan-skinned man and another with blonde hair, bearing full Lieutenant and Lieutenant Commander tabs, respectively – seemed to observe the confrontation with interest. "But I'm afraid…"
"That's quite enough, Lieutenant Monsha," a new, far more feminine voice called out as its bearer moved into open view. Not only did this one also have Lieutenant Commander tabs, but both Amuro and Sayla recognized the distinct ethereal pressure of one of their fellows. "You would be wise to back off while you still can."
"And why is that Commander?" Monsha quipped to his superior out of respect for her rank. "Because I might end up hurting more than this brat's feelings if I don't?"
It was then the woman Commander grinned. "That 'brat' happens to be the White Devil," she pointed out, causing Monsha's skin to turn visibly pale. "And 'Lil Miss Junior Grade' is the Valkyrie of Riah."
"You're lying," Monsha blurted out, suddenly looking upon the two Gundam pilots with newfound apprehension, as though he had nearly picked a fight with two of the biggest badasses in the galaxy. "There's no way…!"
"Sorry, Monsha, but she's right," the blonde-haired LCDR then came up, nodding down toward his fellow Titan in confirmation. "If these two are anywhere near as good in a ground fight as they are in the saddle, then you wouldn't last ten seconds. Best call it quits."
"Not like you won't have other opportunities elsewhere," the darker-haired Lieutenant said from the background.
Though visibly sulking at that particularly lost opportunity, Monsha receded as his apparent CO led him back to their original spot, though not without saluting the two aces and their comrade as he went. Amuro, Sayla, and Fraw were respectful enough to mirror his salute, and the woman Commander greeted them in black and red.
"Please forgive Lieutenant Monsha. He is a relic of a bygone age," the Commander explained quite sardonically. "An age when women, especially blondes, existed exclusively in the kitchen and the bedroom."
She then saluted as well. "Lieutenant Commander Emma Sheen, Titans 118th Squadron," the Titan introduced. " I know who you two are, though not you so much, Lieutenant."
"Doctor," Fraw corrected, feeling that this particular Titan seemed friendly. "Doctor Fraw Bow."
"I see," Emma nodded in acknowledgment. "What brings you three to our fair part of Bhatan?"
"Just taking in the sights, ma'am," Sayla answered. "Concerning you and your comrades," she couldn't help but notice the responding glower from Lieutenant Monsha, toward which she flashed a grin. "None of us have operated alongside Titans before. We were merely curious."
"Understandable enough," Emma nodded. "Considering we seldom operate alongside our comrades in grey…"
"Excuse me, Commander," Amuro spoke up again, this time with renewed interest. "But…" he turned and nodded toward where he had made his prior discovery. Is that what I think it is?
Hearing Amuro's vocalized words and those projected, Emma nodded again in confirmation. "Indeed, Lieutenant," she responded, understanding that much more. She should have known Lieutenant Ray, who had been attached to Project V from the start, would have recognized their other ace in the hole. "And suffice to say, we brought it here for the express purpose of kicking the Dolowa back to Zeon…"
Fetlar System
Another day, another decimation. At least, that's how Mallet felt as he once more brought his Act Zaku up and over the latest round of beam fire, returning in kind with his rifle. He managed to shoot down one Guncannon before being forced back into evasion, the rest already trying to enclose around him, only for Lilia and Gusta to move in and shoot another of their number down. That was enough to dissuade the oncoming attack, from which Mallet and his wingmen retook the offensive, gunning down the remainder of the Troopers before they passed onto the next line. Chaos and bedlam continued throughout the rest of Fetlar around them.
If anything, the Feddie presence in Fetlar seemed to be more than those in previous systems, Mallet felt through his special senses. Certainly, not their intended target, wherever it was, but more than enough to present the commander, his squadron, and the rest of their comrades, too, he supposed, more of a challenge than usual. That suited Mallet well and fine as he blasted the head off another Guncannon, this one a Stormer, before banking right to dodge its blind gatling fire. Another beam rifle shot through the flank ended that Feddie as well, though naturally, there were two more where that one had come, with Mallet raising a beam shield to deflect their rifle shots before maneuvering out of their cannons. Again, Lilia and Gusta moved in his place, taking those baseline Troopers out with pinpoint accuracy. There are two more to follow, with the innumerable flashes around and well into the background, which Mallet could feel and comprehend through his power again. The blood he eternally lusted for in sheer abundance.
And yet, as Mallet continued to drown himself in that blood, leading his squadron along the way, it still felt so hollow and empty to him. He dared say that, despite the seemingly infinite targets around him – choice meats for what should have been a grand banquet – he felt boredom and monotony, even as he continued through the onslaught. It was all "the usual" for him, he knew. Just the standard brand of Feddies to reap through, akin to an archaic scythe through wheat fields. A blood-filled harvest, sure, but nothing like what he had fought at Zorres.
Indeed, as Mallet gunned down another pair of Guncannons while flying by, he wished that there were at least one Earthnoid to stand out from the cattle, which would give him a proper challenge. Not to say that killing wasn't fun – certainly, there was that particular thrill, as well as what his special senses picked up before the inevitable oblivion – but it hardly compared to having to work at it, Mallet realized. And it helped even less that the last few battles had been precisely the same as this one. Slaughtering basic fodder and little else.
And then came the great barrage from the Dolowa, striking down wholesale the last of the Earth garrison's capital ships and the lunar basin itself. Mallet knew that was it, as all that remained were the mobile suits, themselves with no means of retreat or escape despite their still considerable numbers. Regardless, it wasn't long before the calls to surrender began to be broadcast, despite a few hardy souls who chose to continue fighting. Not that it mattered, as neither Mallet nor the rest of his comrades were about to respond to those surrender calls. Admiral Lutjins' orders remained paramount, as did His Majesty's, in that regard.
Thus, like those before, the formal battle ended, and the mop-up operation began. To their credit, the remaining Earthers quickly realized that their enemies could care less about their offerings of surrender. They bravely chose to go out in the same blaze of glory as many of their fellow lowborn had previously done. Determined, Mallet and his wingman credited them, but ultimately futile. If they could not withstand the so-called Zeon Scourge when they were at full strength, they certainly wouldn't be able to now. Their increasingly dwindling numbers emphasized that fact, alongside the additional destroyed Guncannons that Mallet and his squadron shot or slashed into the waiting beyond.
Thus, the Battle of Fetlar would end with all objectives met and minimal losses among the Imperial Forces. Once again, as Mallet was concerned, another day, another decimation. Sieg Zeon.
Space Force Base Bhatan
Ananke, Bhatan
"It took a bit of time, but we managed to identify a fleet commander aboard the Dolowa," Om explained as a holographic image of the commander appeared before his seemingly captive audience. "Vice Admiral Johannes Lutjins."
"Lutjins," Miller murmured with a fair amount of recognition that she couldn't quite conceal. "How did you learn this?"
Om smiled, the red lenses of his goggles gleaming for seeming effect. "Concerning Space Force Intelligence, Commander Miller, the Titans possess their assets," he spoke as though he were illuminating the Lieutenant Commander in some best-kept secret. "We would rather not get all our bad news from Mayfly."
"How wonderful for you," Wakkein intervened in a not-so-subtle rebuke. He had only known Captain Om for a few minutes but already knew he wouldn't like this red-eyed monster. The opposite Admiral couldn't help but wonder if the Titans deliberately recruited from Earth's thug and goon populace or if it was just a natural occurrence. "What makes the good Admiral Lutjins so special?"
Om nodded in the apparent concession of the point. "In terms of acumen, Lutjins has proven to be a capable strategist and tactician, as you can see here," Om explained, a listing of the Zeon Admiral's military record soon appearing beside his profile. "However, even among Emperor Gihren's degenerates, what truly sets him apart is his rather zealous belief that Earth is the Empire's primary enemy. An opinion he has been quite vocal about within Imperial High Command, as well as up to Gihren himself."
Again, Om smiled as he saw the realization dawn upon the "regulars" before him. "No doubt that once the Dolowa is finished with the Odessa forces, Lutjins will direct her, and possibly a full battlefleet alongside, to Earth itself," he emphasized. This naturally falls under the Titans' purview to eliminate all threats to the Federation."
Wakkein opened his mouth to reply, but Admiral Forer beat him to the draw. "I suppose your orders come directly from Admiral Connery, then?" Forer asked without any hint of accusation.
"Not quite, sir, but they were certainly passed down to him," Om confirmed, allowing a moment for that to sink in before his audience. He again looked over them as a gathered whole. "Though I, at least, acknowledge the…checkered history between our respective services, we all remain soldiers of Earth and her affiliated worlds and have sworn oaths to protect them. Following that, the Dolowa and her hordes are presently the greatest threat to the Federation, especially with the concentration of our forces for Odessa."
The Titan then spoke with affirmation. "Thus, as commanded by the President himself, we are to sink the Dolowa," he stated clearly and concisely. "And to pursue every applicable option toward, including and especially working alongside the Space Force."
Though the five members of the said Space Force remained dubious of that point, with Wakkein wanting to throw a few more jabs toward Om's way for good measure, they all knew there was ultimately no argument. Like it or not, it was as Om said. They were indeed in the same trench, and they were indeed facing the same enemy. Everything else could be dealt with once the Dolowa was firmly sunk alongside Lutjins and his aspirations.
"With that out of the way," Om went on, doing well to keep to the business. "Allow me to share with you additional intel that we in the Titans have gathered regarding the Dolowa," he glanced toward Wakkein. "Up to and including that new model Zaku that your forces engaged at Zorres, which I'm sure you will find quite fascinating, sir."
Again, before Wakkein could respond, the holoprojector flickered, this time displaying a full schematic of the Dolowa and corresponding data. It also displayed the aforementioned mobile suit that had been encountered, its name reading out as the Act Zaku…
What in…? Sayla inwardly cursed – without broadcasting it – as she, Fraw, and Amuro all beheld what now stood before them, with Commander Sheen standing off to the side so that they had a full view. For her life, she never would have thought of seeing one such as this particular mobile suit there, much less in the black livery of the Titans. She never would have thought that this specific mobile suit existed. "I did not realize the Titans were involved with Project V."
"We aren't technically," Emma explained as she looked up to said mobile suit, obviously her mobile suit, with clear admiration. "But there were enough murmurings going on back on Earth for us to pick up on it, so naturally, we appropriated one of the four for ourselves while the rest went to Antillia," she then smirked rather facetiously. "I hope you don't mind."
So that's what happened, Amuro thought as he looked up at what was very well the long-lost member of Project V's line, which had all but vanished in thin air right before he and the other three had been shipped out. Now, much like the "prodigal son" he had heard off and on about through his youth, Gundam Unit Delta stood proudly within that hangar in Bhatan, inactive yet gleaming darkly in its obsidian coat. The golden Aquila of the Titans stenciled into its left shoulder to emphasize the force it now answered to.
"I suppose you have used it with due effectiveness?" Sayla inquired, doing well to mask her accusation but not her inquisition. Again, she, and Amuro with her, did well to recognize the familiar pressure that Commander Sheen emitted, establishing that she was, in fact, one of their brethren. N-III, at least according to Sayla's observation.
Emma smirked as she more than recognized the attempt. "I'm afraid I could not say, Lieutenant Mass," she responded as though regretful. "Only the President and select others may be aware of the Titans' exploits at any time. More so with Unit Delta and myself."
Letting out a bemused smirk toward that, Sayla could only nod in acknowledgment. At least from how Commander Sheen presented herself, she was far from the stereotypical jackbooted thug that the Titans went out of their way to recruit. That amounted to something in her opinion.
Satisfied with that response, Emma looked between her and Amuro. "Having said that, however, I must admit that I am far more assured of our chances with you two and Commander Law here," she said, looking upon her fellow Gundam pilots with clear admiration. "Not only because all for Gundams are now reunited, but because, in contrast to what I just said, your exploits are renowned even among our ranks."
Emma then drew another salute at that. "Suffice to say, I look forward to fighting the Dolowa and her mobile suits alongside you all," she stated with clear respectfulness.
Once again, despite their apprehension toward the Titans, Amuro and Sayla returned that salute, as did Fraw. "Indeed, Commander," Sayla responded, herself assured that they would have far more than their Gundams to send after the Dolowa and her legions. "May the glory of victory be ours at that…"
Zeon supercarrier Dolowa
Warp
No sooner than when Admiral Lutjins entered the briefing room did the senior officer cadre of the Dolowa rise to attention and salute. Lutjins would have appreciated the gesture any other time, even though it was far from necessary as far as he was concerned, but now he had far more pressing matters. As emphasized, he came over to the head of the table, all but tossing the datapad he had been reading over for the last several minutes onto the polished surface.
"Bhatan," he stated, as though that name alone would mean everything to the gathered, which it did. "That is where Admiral Revil is gathering his forces."
The men and women were taken aback by that statement, realizing they had accomplished nothing through one great intelligence screwup. The battles they had fought all the way into the present, while certainly costing Earth much in terms of men and material, did absolutely nothing toward fulfilling their Emperor's given objectives.
"How long, sir?" Lindermann questioned, somehow managing not to rub her strained forehead. To think that she and her ship had wasted so much time…
"I just received the communique myself," the Admiral stated in frustrated disgust. "From what I've come to understand, however, Bhatan identified the target well before we even set sail!"
"Why then!?" the communications officer let out through her grief. "Why weren't we…?"
The question hung, lingering seemingly in the open air as the gathered could only fathom it. Why hadn't they been told at the start? Why had High Command seen fit to let them run around the sector stamping out random Feddie bases when their real target had already been identified? None of it made sense, save for Lutjins, Lindermann, and a few others. And they dared not consider what they suspected.
Regardless, Lutjins took a great breath and settled into his chair. Despite such a gross setback, what was most important was that they now knew and could, therefore, execute: "Bring up a starmap of the Bhatan System."
From that command, the table holographic projector engaged, presenting a full layout of the star system in question, where the enemy, their real enemy, undoubtedly lay well in wait.
