Hey, peeps~! Here's the next chapter of The Phoenix Rising. I hope you guys are ready for what's coming here. ;3 Finally, the resistance starts to take action to learn more about LOGOs' other weapons... if they have any... ;3
- operation meteor: Thanks for the detailed review. :) Yeah, I had to cover everything I possibly could. There will be more covered in the coming arc as well, but this next chapter is what will finish this current arc and it will showcase the Redemption in a major way. ;) Plus, Turbine will get another chance to show what he's capable of, too. :)
- 1800009trumbullps . net: Thanks. :3
- CT7567Rules: Well thanks for that review. :) But the battles will be covered in more depth in the next arc. This next chapter is going to be a surprise~! ;3
- KentLinuxStadfelt: Thanks! :) And glad you could review again. :) Yeah, the resistance is finally taking the offensive and gathering more data. :3 Their intelligence agencies will definitely prove to be handy come this next arc... ;3
(The screen shows only blackness before a small light is shown in the center, growing larger until a fire ignites, panning around to show the Strike Dagger S equipped with the Phoenix Striker flying through space, a tattered American flag shown flapping on a flagpole in a huge colony)
START MIKAKUNIN HIKOUSEN BY TAKAYOSHI TANIMOTO
(The camera pans in towards the colony where it shows several members of the resistance gathered: President Eisenhower, Steven Krane, Mackenzie Samantha Allen, Turbine Martinez, Keith Martinez, Marcus Wolcott and his squadron, Warren Thompson, Robert "Rob" Jackson, Kyle Eisen, Kashi Tsukiyama, and Turbine's squad mates)
Oh yeah! Be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The group is standing before the Redemption in the background, a shadowy mobile suit above them and below the ship, two brilliant light blue optics flaring)
Pass the orbit beyond the sky (The camera pivots away from them and out to show a map of the Atlantian Reich split into two colors: blue showing the resistance and purple showing the Reich)
I can't hold back this rushing speed (The camera zooms in on Denver as Eisenhower is shown standing atop a tank, waving her hand as she barks an order into a headset she's wearing)
A familiar town becomes a diorama (The screen is flooded with dust as a tank speeds by, showing a single pinprick of light as a shuttle is launched into orbit from Anchorage)
Burst through the unclear skies (The camera pivots away to show another explosion as a Murasame blasts past, bearing the emblem of Sicario)
Blow away your worries and discontent (The camera zooms in on the wolf head emblem before it starts to flutter as a flag, panning down to show the leader of Sicario, Arnold Franken, on the screen)
Who needs a journey that's by the book? (The commander of the mercenaries waves his hand and three mobile suits blast overhead, their pilots shown with their emblems behind them before panning away to show Heaven's Base)
Even if you're lost or trembling, raise the altitude (The base is shown shrouded by darkness, Nazara standing above the base as the ZAFT-Defector fleet sails towards it)
Oh yeah! Show off, mess up, and stand back up (The image is suddenly shattered as a huge gun shell slams into it before the camera pans to the left to show the SS United States in Orb, undergoing repairs while her crew is gathered before her, the USS Missouri on station to act as deterrence)
I'll watch the unknown horizon with you (The camera pans away to show the captain of the Archangel and Heero standing beside one another, their hands entwining)
Now be strong, jump on, and become the wind (The two look at one another before a mobile suit flies past, panning up to show the Strike Dagger S clashing with a shadowy mobile suit)
Use the sun that lights tomorrow as a guide (A sinister dark aura surges out from the mobile suit, twin eyes glaring at the assembled warriors, the image of Durandal shown off to the side)
Fly off to the glorious world of freedom! (The image shows the resistance ship and their allies facing down the dark shadow, Djibril's face behind it as he looms over them)
GUNDAM WING: THE PHOENIX RISING
Let justice be done, though the heavens may fall
- Steven Jackson 'Spray' Krane
CHAPTER LV: Nazis of the Moon
JUDGMENT STATION DOCKS
JANUARY 3RD, 0074 CE
The crew of the Redemption finished assembling before the ship, each of them ready for their next mission.
For Spray, the fact that a new mission had begun so soon after the first debut of the ship was a bit odd, but he was not about to question orders. He knew that there would be a debrief, and that the nature of their new mission would soon be revealed.
Captain Amass stood before them as well, but she wouldn't be giving the briefing he noted as the station commander approached and turned to face the assembled crew, which included the AI, Turbine Martinez. Corporal La Grange cleared his throat as he placed his arms behind his back.
"I'm sure you're all aware, but as of earlier today, I have assigned you a new mission. Now, to be fair, this is one that the President doesn't know about yet, and for good reason. If we can manage to find information on just what is happening near the Lunar positions of the Atlantian Reich, we can then send this information down to Earth so this way she can make plans based on what we learn," he began. "And to be clear, the only reason I'm even allowing this is because we need that intelligence. We're unsure as to what the Reich's leadership has been planning, and that is something that can be a real issue in terms of possible combat. If the Reich has another superweapon in the works, which I'm hoping to God they don't, then we need to know what it is, as well as its capabilities."
His eyes scanned over the gathered crowd, noticing how they were leaning forward a bit if they were sitting, or had their gazes fixed right on him if they were standing. A few had their arms crossed, and in the back of the crowd, Turbine stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the side of a hangar. "Such a weapon could be another dreadnought, or even something more sinister, like a technoorganic mobile suit. Now, that one is a long shot, but the possibility still remains. So we have to learn as much as we can about this new weapon and if it even exists. Now, given the fact that the Redemption is equipped with a Mirage Colloid system, I will be sending the ship out to gather this information. The 1776th Battle Group will remain here on standby if the Atlantians find out about our position and send forces to attack us.
"The main mission of the Redemption is stealth, first and foremost. There is to be no attacking unless in self-defense, or if you are spotted. But if you are spotted, you are to withdraw, no questions asked. There can be no defiance of that order," Maxus concluded.
"What about using the Judgment System?" someone else asked.
"No go," Maxus countered. "We cannot afford to use it if we are to remain on the downlow with this mission. As it stands, I'm taking a big risk by even allowing this to be carried out. Given the nature of one of the new crew, it makes sense I'd be even hesitant to do this. But, given the circumstances, we've got to get as much intelligence as possible as to what the Atlantians are up to."
His eyes swept back over the crowd once more.
"Where are we exactly going?" Captain Amass inquired.
"Your current destination is within the L2 sector of space," the station commander explained. He nodded in that direction through one of the massive windows overhead. "That is where we've picked up a lot of chatter coming from, along with extensive jamming. We think it may be to hide something of great importance, hence the assumption of a new superweapon."
"And that means we'll be flying right into the belly of the beast," Turbine rumbled.
"Yes. Now, if any of you want to back out, that's fine. I won't force you to go," Maxus told them. "But, that means one less person to help us verify if this is a new superweapon or not."
One of the other crew members scoffed. "As if we'll be left behind!"
"Yeah! We're in this together!" another man exclaimed.
"After all, that dreadnought down on Earth caught us all by surprise," another woman replied. "We're not about to let that happen again, are we, eh?"
"Sheila's right!" a fifth person remarked. "We're in this to the end."
Everyone else nodded in response to those words, and Maxus smiled to himself. After having taken down that dreadnought and shown the true power of the resistance, the entire crew was more than eager for another chance to showcase the might of the Redemption and its mobile suits. However, with the fact that the Atlantian Reich's space forces were still in play, they'd have to be very careful.
"Good." Maxus nodded once the crew of the Redemption had regained their sense of calm and seriousness. "Now, the L2 shipyards have also been busy with another project, which many of our intelligence officers have theorized to be the second half of Project: Reaper. We can't be too sure, but that is a possible secondary objective to figure out if we can't find out what they are building at L2 in general. Of course, the same conditions apply to this as well: if you get discovered, you have to retreat, no questions asked, and no defiance of those orders. We cannot afford to lose this ship, or this crew! It's too important to our movement, as it has become a symbol of our resolve and drive to redeem ourselves! Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" the entire crew said as one.
"Excellent. Now, the mission will commence in thirty! Take that time to prepare and get ready for deployment. You leave at 1400 hours sharp!" Maxus barked.
The crew gave a crisp salute as one before they started to break off, heading to either the ship, for a quick late lunch, or to get in a call to loved ones. For Turbine, he made his way to the Redemption and proceeded to enter the vessel through one of the catapults to the hangar. Spray, meanwhile, made his way over to the gangplank and proceeded to walk up it, pulling out his smartphone and calling his wife.
He held it to his ear as it rang.
Within thirty seconds, he heard a click and Wingma's voice filtered over the speaker. "Spray?! Oh, thank God! I was sure you were done for!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, take it easy, Wingma. I'm safe," Spray told her. "We're about to head out for another mission, so I thought I'd take the time to fill you in on what's happened so far."
"You don't need to fill me in," she told him. "I already saw the news. The Redemption proved itself, didn't it?"
Spray chuckled. "More than you know, Wingma. More than you know." He then became serious as he stopped in the hallway of the ship and leaned against the wall. "The demise of the Sovereign really boosted the morale of the movement. And it also brought hope back to the world, something they people haven't felt in a long time. I gotta admit, seeing it blow up from orbit was well worth the wait for the strike."
"Speaking of, did the system work as intended?" Wingma asked.
Spray nodded. "It did. The Judgment Satellite System worked beautifully. Dr. Thompson really showed his talent for engineering here, but it was Dr. Brand who brought the system to reality."
"And what of your old machine?" she wondered. "You still going to use it?"
"Yeah. The Strike Dagger S is still good to go, but I have a feeling I won't be using it after this mission," Spray confided to her. "Remember Krantz? The guy who was my second, but who was in reality trying to make me a puppet commander?"
"How could I not?" Wingma snorted. "I can't forget him even if I wanted to!"
Spray couldn't help but chuckle at her comment. "He is indeed unforgettable, and for all the wrong reasons, too!"
"So what about him? Didn't you finish him off?" his wife asked.
Spray shook his head at this. "No. He escaped. I'm not sure if he was found by another fleet or what, but something tells me that he did survive our encounter. Maybe he was demoted, who knows?" He sighed heavily. "All I can say for sure is that I have a feeling he'll be out there somewhere near L2. I can't explain it, but it feels like we're two sides of the same coin..."
"Great... something he'll try to take advantage of, no doubt," Wingma grumbled.
The rebel ace snorted. "Yeah. And I'm gonna be honest here. I'm kind of worried about that." He sighed a bit. "How will he try and use this against me? Wil he try to sway me to his side? What will he do? That's what's so concerning to me."
"Spray, we're all concerned about what he could do," his wife told him. "So don't think you're the only one who's worried."
Spray chuckled at that. "Heh. Yeah. You guys are always trying to look out for me, even when I'm not on Earth." He glanced at the phone as he pulled it away from his ear. "And that brings me back to my mission."
"What exactly is the mission, Spray?" Wingma wondered.
"The radio jocks picked up a bunch of chatter and jamming being carried out in the L2 sector of space," Spray explained. "The Redemption is going to be sent out to investigate and find out just what the Atlantian Reich is up to there. Of course, given how we have Mirage Colloid cloaking, it would make sense we'd be sent out."
"But what if you guys get jumped and have to fight back? Wouldn't that necessitate the use of the Judgment Satellite System?" Wingma asked worriedly.
"We're not going to be fighting unless it's in self-defense," Spray assured her. "But if it comes down to that, then that means we have to withdraw, no questions asked, and no defiance of those orders." His eyes narrowed. "It was the commander's decision, and he's right. We can fight, but we're overall a deterrent for the Atlantians and ZAFT alike. We've got to be careful as well, considering we got that AI, Turbine Martinez, on board."
"Sounds like Corporal La Grange has his head on straight with this mission," Wingma noted.
"Definitely," Spray remarked.
"So, what do you think is being done at L2 then?" his wife wondered.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," Spray told her. "But the commander and the L4 Coalition both think it could be a new superweapon, possibly being built to augment that dreadnought of theirs."
Wingma grumbled on the other end of the line before a meow was heard. "Sorry. The stupid cat wants food," she said.
The rebel pilot laughed at that.
"Anyway, you're sure then that there is another dreadnought being constructed?" Wingma asked as he heard her opening the canned food for their cat, Lucky.
"It's what we confirmed. Remember, Project: Reaper is two dreadnoughts," he reminded her. "The first one we destroyed was built solely for use on Earth. It was one hell of a battle to take it down, though, from what combat data we got from Heero and Terminal."
"It seems like they want us to be prepared in case we encounter that second one before Terminal gets back into space," Wingma mused.
"Possibly, but until we hear otherwise, we have to assume that to be the case," Spray remarked. He leaned back a bit more against the wall of the hallway. "To be frank, I'm kind of surprised Turbine was assigned to the Redemption. I was half-expecting him to be assigned to another ship."
"Maybe they wanted to ensure that you had more of a fighting chance," Wingma offered. "I mean, given his reputation and status as a command-class, it would make sense seeing as how he has the ability to learn much quicker than a human does."
Spray did admit his wife had a point. With Turbine's ability to learn an enemy's combat style, and when coupled with his own ability to adapt, it made sense to have him on board. But it was also a risk as if they lost him, then they'd lose a significant advantage. So they had to be extra careful, but not overly cautious.
"Yeah, you got a point," he admitted. "But you do know it's also a risk, remember?"
She did remember. Wingma sighed. "I do remember, Spray. I do remember." Then her voice became more serious. "But I'm being serious when I say that you have to come back alive. All of you. Turbine included."
"All I can promise is that we'll try," Spray told her. "I can't promise anything other than that. We all know the costs and horrors of war, and of how it can change at any given moment. Especially in an armed conflict like this one. Given who we're fighting, we have to be prepared to die at any time, and if we do, then we go down fighting for a better future."
Wingma was silent, and for a brief moment, Spray had a mental flash of her sitting at their kitchen table, holding her phone to her ear, as tears streamed down her face at the thought of her little brother, helpless as he was in a wheelchair. And Spray couldn't blame her for being worried for him. Even if he was at a safe house, there was always a chance someone could find it and set the place on fire or destroy it in any other manner they could consider.
And he could only hope that wasn't the case as well.
"I'll be careful," he repeated. "We all will. Just sit tight and do what you can."
"I will, Spray. And please... for the love of God, come back alive. All of you," she said.
Spray nodded and finally hung up, putting his phone back in his pocket as he heard the alarm start to blare.
He turned and headed down the hallway to his assigned quarters.
It was almost time to go.
. . .
The ship's engines began to hum as the crew finished embarking.
With the crew aboard, the resistance flagship was about ready to launch. Within the docks, the massive doors that separated the docks from the colony began to close, sealing the vessel inside the huge airlock. The imposing air pumps began to draw out the air to allow the ship to depart Judgment Station. As this was going on, Captain Hannah Amass stood in the bridge, her eyes fixed on the scene of the ground crews in space suits moving around, making sure that the magnetic clamps slid away smoothly. The mechanical locks disengaged and the docking ports moved aside, allowing the Redemption to slide free of her dock.
Once the ship was released, the engines ignited as the huge doors covering the exit slid aside, exposing the vacuum of space. The ship began to move, slowly inching her way out of the docking bay. The Redemption's resupply and realignment was complete, allowing her to leave the colony for her next mission.
And each one of the crew was ready for action.
Turbine was no exception as he stood against the wall of the hangar bay he was in. It was quite bigger than he had expected, but it was still feeling cramped with fourteen mobile suits crammed in there. One was obviously the same machine that had contributed to the demise of the Sovereign, but there was another one that looked like a modified Strike Dagger, an older model machine. The extra hangar space was dedicated for extra parts or supplies.
What little room he had to himself was enough to make him feel a bit more at ease, but it was still a bit closed in.
He shifted his weight as he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the catwalks. He looked up a bit, his optics flickering as he saw Dr. Warren Thompson walking alongside the resistance ace, Steven Krane.
"Well. You're out and about?" Dr. Thompson asked.
Turbine shrugged. "Is it wrong to want to move around sometimes?" he retorted. "Besides, I'm not a standard mobile suit, nor am I a typical AI. Remember?" He tapped his chest with one finger. "I'm sentient."
"Yes, I'm aware," the Coordinator snarked. "But that's besides the point. You're out and about while the ship is in motion. All mobile suits have to be locked down while moving."
"Please. I can handle myself," Turbine remarked. "If I need to, I will go into the cradle. But right now, I'm just trying to think."
"About what?" Steven asked, his bronze gaze locked onto Turbine's cyan optics.
The AI sighed. "About the outcome of this war..."
"Wait. Why the outcome?" the pilot wondered.
"Mostly about how we're going to restore the world's trust in governmental institutions, like the United Nations of Sol or whatever it's called," Turbine clarified. "I mean... what's the plan going to be for that?"
The two men looked at one another uneasily. For one thing, Turbine did have a point. What was the plan for the resistance in that regard? There was just not enough information for their post-war plans.
But what did it matter in the scheme of things right now? People had to be shown that the Atlantian Reich's Government could not be trusted, and that the government the President and her allies had rebuilt could be trusted. And the only way to do that... was to bring down LOGOs once and for all in direct combat.
At least for the moment.
Turbine sighed heavily through his vents as he dimmed his optics. 'Alicia would be better at figuring things out,' he thought to himself as he heard Steven and Dr. Thompson leaving the area. He leaned back, his optics brightening a bit as he began to consider what the mission would entail. Sure he knew about the overall objective, but it was the very operation itself that worried him. What would the Atlantians do if they were spotted as they approached?
And would they even be spotted to begin with, given their use of the Mirage Colloid particles as a cloaking measure? The one thing about the Atlantians was they could never be underestimated, but it seemed as if the resistance was starting to lower their guard. If that were the case, then he would have to do something about it. And he was not willing to turn against the resistance, let alone perform a coup. But maybe talking to the President could be enough...?
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard another set of footsteps coming. He turned his helm to look at the catwalk as a maintenance technician walked up, scanning over the other mobile suits with a critical gaze. His gray eyes narrowed before he turned to look at the sentient mobile suit standing off to the side of the cradles. "Hm? Oh, it's you," he scoffed. "You should be in a cradle, not just wandering around the hangar bay."
"Hey. I can move around if I want," Turbine snarked as he shifted his weight. "That aside, what are you doing here?"
"Just checking up on the maintenance of the machines here," the techie replied, giving a sneer at Turbine. The AI felt a strange sensation surfacing in his lower torso, and at once a chilling feeling crept down his back struts. The sinking sensation he had come to associate with dread came forth and he had to clench his servos on his arms so as to not shudder obviously. "Besides, it's not like you'd understand anything about what we're truly fighting for, now would you?"
"For one thing, I do," Turbine retorted. "I'm not bound to a directive anymore, so I'm free to make my own choices. And I've vowed to fight to ensure that the world has the opportunity to embrace change."
"Ah, but is change a good thing, or a bad thing?" the techie snorted. "People like LOGOs fear change, so why force them to embrace it?"
"Their fear is rooted in a deep seated insecurity about their own mortality and their ever-increasing greed," Turbine shot back. "They have no idea that human evolution takes millions of years. They probably fear that you'll use genetic techniques and technologies to alter your base form into something unrecognizable, but the truth is that the technology for that kind of thing is not even existent. It's just a bunch of fiction that they're grasping at to try and prohibit human evolution and development to ensure that future generations will be able to live and thrive in space." His optics dimmed a shade as the technician looked back at him, and his eyes widened as he actually did see Turbine's optics narrow dangerously. "Mind me asking why you are questioning me on this...?"
The technician just chuckled as he rolled his arms back behind his head. "To be frank, I wasn't sure if you were even really aware of what LOGOs was fighting for," he remarked, his tone more friendly now.
"Really?" Turbine snorted. "Seems to me like you were trying to be confrontational."
The technician sighed as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "To be honest, I kind of was, and still am, mostly because of the fact you're fully sentient..." He scowled as he looked at the AI. "And besides, how do we even know your words and actions are genuine? How can any of us be sure that you honestly won't turn against humanity once we win this war?"
Here, Turbine paused, unfolding his arms and looking to one of his servos, watching it as he flexed the digits. "..." He was surprised so many still doubted his sincerity, especially given what he had done to end Ghoul Squadron during the Siege of Satellite City.
"That's the problem with artificial intelligence," the technician continued. "We can't be sure if it is telling the truth or not." His eyes hardened as he locked gazes with Turbine. "Actions may speak louder than words, but until you give us a real reason to trust you, consider this a temporary alliance, Gundam."
The anger and disgust in that one word made Turbine actually shiver. It brought to his chest a new sensation, one he had never experienced before. It felt like something had penetrated his soul, generating an aching feeling that permeated his very being. The technician spat in his direction; the glob of saliva just splattered on the catwalk before he turned and walked off.
For the first time in his life, Turbine had just been insulted and degraded.
The very concept of insulting in combat was one thing. But to be insulted by someone who was on the same side, fighting for the same beliefs and ideals? That was a whole new scenario for him. Turbine slowly leaned back against the wall of the hangar and slid down it, collapsing on his rear plating and drawing his legs close to his chest. He placed his arms on his metal kneecaps before burying his helm in them, his shoulders shaking as he started to... subtle hiccups escaped his venting as he cried for the first time in his life.
He wished Keith was there to comfort him.
Even though he understood not everyone was a fan of artificial intelligence, the fact that not everyone was trusting still hurt. It was a scar he would have to bear, but at the same time, the technician had offered a slim chance of hope. It wasn't much, but it was still something...
Right?
The resistance AI had no clue that in the near future, he would prove the whole world wrong on AIs being superior to humans in every way possible...
. . .
ATLANTIC FEDERATION SPACE YARDS
JANUARY 3RD, 0074 CE
Shipyard Master Johannes von Behrends ran a hand through his blonde hair as he observed the recent activity outside the main shipyards.
He could see that the progress was well under way, and over half the station was completed. It would only be a matter of time before the last of them were finished and then they could unleash the Requiem of Doom upon the space daemons and those fools down in the fatherland. The very idea was enough to make him smile as he started to stroke his goatee with a soft chuckle.
A man in his late fifties, he was a highly respected engineer and weapons designer, having worked for the Azrael Defense Conglomerate before its dissolution and absorption by North American Heavy Engineering. After all, it had been he who proposed the idea for a lunar based superweapon. And the fact he was an opera enthusiast was where he got the idea of the weapon's name from. He was kind of stocky compared to his fellow soldiers, at only four foot eleven, and he was rotund where the rest were all muscular and built. He had slicked back blonde hair that was graying on the sides, adding a sort of dignified look to his appearance.
But he was far from dignified. He was rather vulgar, racist, and misogynistic in every sense of the word. He beat his much taller wife with a pipe when she didn't do things exactly the way he wanted them, and his children were no longer in his life because of his stupid sister's quick thinking in removing them when she visited them and saw the bruises from the pipe. He had wanted to mold them to his desires, but someone had ratted out what he was doing. So now his sister, the pathetic whore, had joined the enemy's side, bringing with her advanced engineering skills that he had not expected her to have.
It was all because of her that he had lost his children, and also his standing once it was revealed he suffered from a form of dwarfism. He was mocked and ridiculed amongst the elite, especially those who had aligned with the rebels. It was a stark contrast to what he had been expecting, when over half of the billionaires and millionaires had thrown their financial clout behind the resistance movement, especially those who had a real stake in the economy, like the rail barons and air barons. Two heads of telecommunications conglomerates had also assisted the resistance by allowing them to use their servers, free of charge to boot.
Footsteps behind him made him frown as he turned, letting his hand fall behind his back as he faced his superior and lord, Djibril.
"Ah, my lord. Vhat brings you here?" he asked.
"Simply put, how the progress is coming along," the Lord of Earth sneered.
Here, Behrends snorted. "It's progressing, but it does take time to actually complete ze zing." He turned back to the window. "Ve have zree of ze relays completed, but ze last one is giving us trouble, as ve're running out of supplies."
"Supplies shouldn't be an issue," Djibril noted, his sneer forming into a hardened scowl.
"Vell, ve are. Vith ze fatherland in civil war, und ze rest of ze world rallying against us, ve're down to only vhat ve have up here, und as it stands, it's not going to be easy to finish crafting ze necessary field to bend ze beam without much needed resources from Earth," the shipyard master replied. "Not to mention ze fact zat ze rebels have been preventing us from sending supplies to Anchorage."
Lord Djibril's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then they have control of the skies?" he hissed.
"Yes, my lord," Behrends explained. "Zat means ve have to jury rig ze necessary components here on ze moon."
Jury-rigging something like an entire relay was not what he had been expecting, and that was enough to make the self-proclaimed Lord of Earth smash his fist against Behrends' face. The smaller man staggered back before collapsing. "Jury-rigging something is beyond us!" he snarled. "We cannot be forced to rely on peasant tactics to make ends meet! WE NEED TO COMPLETE IT CORRECTLY!"
Behrends understood where his master was coming from, but the reality was clear: they needed more supplies, or they had to make do with jury-rigging new systems and equipment. And now that he thought about it, the more the reality was crashing down around them: the resistance had all the supplies now, and with it, they could build more machines that fit their unorthodox and unconventional fighting style. But the biggest indicator was the fact that the resistance was building a full fledged military once more, not reliant alone on mobile suits or gigantic weapons of mass destruction.
If the attack on Kiddie Kamp was any indication, then their new (or old, really) combined arms doctrine was a much better way to do war than what he had expected.
"I understand, my lord. But you must understand. Ze resistance has all ze supplies now, und zey control ze skies above ze fatherland. Zat is trouble for us, so ve must make do, despite my own opinion on ze matter. Zat means zat I agree vith you on ze need to do zis correctly. But reality must be considered as vell, my liege." Here his eyes narrowed as he got to his feet. "Und zat means accepting ve must resort to jury-rigging systems despite not liking it."
Lord Djibril's face contorted into a snarl of anger, but then his eyes widened as he realized his subordinate was correct. He took in a breath and let it out, calming himself down. "You are correct then. Despite my intense dislike of such methods, they must be utilized if we are to get this relay up and running in time for the Final Solution to take hold."
"Zat is vhat I vas hoping you vould say," Behrends said as he bowed.
For his part, Lord Djibril was not happy at having to jury-rig up the necessary systems. It went against everything he had been raised to believe in: that only the efforts of man could produce completed projects with the utmost care and precision, machined and crafted in factories and using the cheapest labor possible. To MacGyver different systems to work together without the necessary components was something that only peasants did, trying to struggle to survive with what little they had. But now, here he was, the Lord of Earth, having to do the same thing.
One thing was certain, he knew for sure.
Once the Atlantians reclaimed their rightful fatherland, the peasants would be stripped of any means to make their miserable lives better, and force them to live as medieval serfs on lands owned by the nobility. Technology was to be forbidden to them, and only the nobles and their servants could use it. Farming peasants would be deemed irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Backbreaking labor was their punishment, and only after one thousand generations had passed would they be allowed to live a modicum better than they were.
But his lofty ambitions had to be curtailed for the moment.
First, came the cleansing of space and pure blue Earth.
Then came retribution...
. . .
USS REDEMPTION
For Spray, this was going to be one hell of an operation.
He had never expected this to even be going on.
Sure the Redemption was capable of stealthy flight, but when it came down to it, the ship was just too well-armed to be considered a stealth craft, and it was in no way as speedy as some of the other ships that were equipped with Mirage Colloid. Plus its size was a giveaway that it was not a stealth ship in purpose. The real reason for the Redemption being equipped with Mirage Colloid to begin with was to give a psychological terror to the Atlantians; seeing a ship of the Redemption's size and capability emerging from stealth with the sun behind her was sure to make many of those men shit their pants.
But now, as he stood on the bridge alongside the captain, his eyes were narrowed as he observed the humdrum of activity. But his gaze was not fixed on the bridge crew or the personnel who ran the ship. His gaze was locked onto their destination: the moon.
For many, the moon represented a symbol, and for LOGOs, it represented the crown in their failing kingdom. If they could take that... then there would be nowhere for them to run. Not even to Mars.
Oh sure there could be some who wanted to flee to Jupiter, but the idea was far from feasible with their limited resources. The rebel ace had to laugh at the thought of makeshift rockets fleeing to the gas giant's moons.
"Steven?"
His thoughts were interrupted by Captain Amass as she looked to him. "What's on your mind?"
Spray sighed. "Just thinking about how ridiculous it would be for LOGOs to try to flee to Jupiter with their meager resources. Especially since they have no real way to get there."
Hannah had to shoot him a look before a smirk crossed her face. "Yeah, I will admit the idea is kind of funny." Then she became serious. "But that's not even possible for them. So all they can do is cower on the moon like the little babies they are."
"Yeah. And that brings me to the next question: Just what are they building out here?" Spray asked, folding his arms.
The Redemption's commanding officer sighed as she ran a hand through her ponytail. "Well... that's what we're going to investigate," she replied. "You recall the briefing, don't you?"
Spray nodded. "Yeah. I do. But what is it that they meant by the requiem of destruction?" His eyes hardened. "I'm not too sure if that's a good thing... or a bad thing."
"Something tells me it's a bad thing," Hannah told him. "The sound of the requiem of destruction is something that implies massive death and destruction." Her eyes flicked to the screen showing the readouts for the Judgment Satellite System. "Sort of like what we have..."
The rebel ace just snorted. "Please. The Judgment Satellite System is a far cry from the Cyclops System. True it uses some of the same technology, but it's not a microwave bomb that kills indiscriminately. We have the ability to use it how we see fit. And that means we direct it at any enemies who want to cause another Genocide War."
"Who even came up with that thing, anyway?" Hannah wondered, a scowl crossing her face.
Spray shrugged. "Beats me. But whoever did, clearly felt immense guilt and handed it over."
Then something Spray said struck her. "Wait... Genocide War?" Hannah asked, confusion crossing her features.
Spray nodded. "Yeah. Genocide War. That's what people are calling these wars over genetics now. Genocide means to destroy an entire population of a certain group, and given what LOGOs and Rau were both after, it makes sense to call them Genocide Wars instead of Bloody Valentine Wars." His hands clenched on his arms, and he had to force himself to relax. "Genocide is not the way to do things. It will only cause lasting harm down the road. And as a result, we have to make sure that whomever is in charge of the opposition to Durandal can see that the American people are not genocidal Nazis."
"Sounds like something either that newly promoted general or President Eisenhower would say," Hannah joked.
Spray cracked a grin. "Maybe, but I'm just saying the facts." Then his smirk faded. "But I'm being real here. When I say it won't help anyone, it will only make things worse. Genocide can't be allowed to happen ever again. On any level."
His eyes became shards of bronze as he sighed. "And that's why we're doing this. To ensure that we can win this war."
Hannah nodded. "All the more reason to focus on this then." Her lips then curled into a frown. "But that reminds me... something just seems off..."
"Hm?" Spray turned to her, cocking an eyebrow. "Whaddya mean?"
The captain of the Redemption narrowed her eyes. "One of the techies in charge of mobile suit maintenance came back from the hangar bay. I wasn't sure what he was on about, but it seems like he's got some distrust for that AI we've got on board."
"Well, to be frank, this is the first time an AI has actually been sentient, and actively fighting on our side," Spray noted. "So it makes sense people would be against it."
"But it's what he was implying that worries me," Hannah continued.
Here, Spray began to get a bad feeling in his gut. During his tenure in the Atlantian military before defecting, he had displayed an uncanny knack for guessing the enemy's movements, or even just guessing what they were up to in general. His instincts for battle were good, but nowhere near as good as Heero Yuy's, and yet he had always been cautious in combat. It was what had earned him both the respect of his troops and the ire of his more... primally driven... superiors. "What do you mean?"
"The man was implying he thinks Turbine can't be trusted," Hannah said softly. "And I'm not one to normally disagree right off the bat, but... given his reputation and his actions during the siege back in Mexico, why shouldn't he be given a chance?"
"Some people have that crazy belief that AIs will wipe out humanity," Spray said sourly. "It's one of those things that will always be with us until we have seen that enough AI are willing to work with us on things instead of trying to destroy us. And besides, Dr. Martinez said he had measures in place if an AI that we are developing proved to be entirely hostile towards us."
Hannah was silent before she turned to Spray. "Honestly, I'm more worried about how this will affect Turbine. I mean, he's still young and easily influenced... So..."
Here, the rebel ace scowled. "I see... I think he may be trying to sow discord amongst us with that."
"Then you think he could be a Blue Cosmos spy?" Hannah asked, disbelief filling her voice and coloring her features. "But how could one have slipped past our security?!"
"I don't think he is," Spray clarified. "I think this man may be doing this on his own... maybe in an effort to get recognized by Djibril because he was turned down or something. Maybe he's an Enhanced, or who knows what his reasoning is?" His eyes were hard as he unfolded his arms. "But whatever it is, we will find it."
"So you want to talk to him?" Hannah questioned.
Spray nodded. "Yeah. More like gather answers. In the meantime, we have to stay focused on the objectives here. Once we complete it, then we can interrogate the technician in question."
Hannah pursed her lips, but nodded. "Right."
. . .
It didn't take long for the Redemption to reach top speed. While not super fast, it was still a fast vessel for its size. In fact, only the Nazca-class of ZAFT could even keep pace with the larger ship. It was mostly due to this fact that the resistance had armed her as heavily as they did, and with the mobile suits aboard her, she would definitely be one to put up one hell of a fight.
It was also why she was equipped with Mirage Colloid: to allow her to sneak up undetected at speed.
The cloaked ship started to slow down though, not wanting to take a chance at getting spotted by any of the Atlantian ships as they drew closer to the spot where the transmissions and jamming had been coming from. It was just as well, because one of the old Agamemnon-class was actively scanning for any possible intruders. The very design of the ship was why the resistance had shelved the initial design scheme for the Redemption.
With its angular design tapering off towards the rear where the engines were, it resembled either an arrowhead or the head of a spear, something that indicated tribal supremacy over their enemies. The idea to reuse the design for the Redemption had first been proposed by one of the engineers who worked on said class, but the idea had overwhelmingly been shot down by the entire design team, outlining the very reasoning behind the need to have a ship that was not based in tribal beliefs and supremacy. The engineer had relented, resigning from their position shortly after and transferring to L2 instead to act as a mole.
The decision had been sound, for now the Redemption was a much more robust design than the Agamemnon-class.
The captain of the Agamemnon class, the AFSF Hound Dog, scowled as he looked to the radar officer. "And you're sure nothing is there?" he asked, his eyes hard.
"Yes, sir," the younger man replied. "There's nothing on radar, so I don't know what the scouts are on about."
The man pursed his lips as he glanced out the bridge windows, his eyes looking for any sign of a resistance incursion. From what he had heard about the demise of Sovereign, it was clear the rebels currently waging war on the ground had the ability to build a spacecraft that could unleash a devastating beam down onto the earth below. But the rumors seemed to be just that: rumors. There was no sign of any resistance ship anywhere.
He couldn't see that it was just mere meters off to the starboard side as it slid past his vessel undetected.
And Captain Amass had to keep from cackling as the Redemption escaped their weak eyes.
The journey had taken a full two hours, so it was good timing when they departed. The entire area was a massive beehive of LOGOs activity, with men running around across the area, and already they could see that there were four rings that looked like they had been made from parts of an old O'Neil cylinder Type III colony. But what were the Atlantians doing?
"What the hell...?" Spray whispered as he observed this from beside Hannah.
"What is this...?" someone else murmured.
The helmsman was dead silent as he steered the Redemption around several other transport vessels, mostly of the Sturgeon class transports. "Y'know, I don't understand why they had to pick animal names for some of their vessel classes..." he snorted a few moments later.
"Believe me, Jack, I'd like to know that, too," Hannah remarked. "Speaking of, have the COMMs guys picked up anything on the radio waves?" she then asked, looking to the chief communications officer.
"Nothing yet, ma'am," the officer replied. "But we are scanning for-" Suddenly, his hand flew to the headset he was wearing and he closed his eyes, tuning the frequency to try and pick up what he was hearing clearly. His eyes then snapped open. "We got something! Chatter detected!"
"What are they saying?" the captain demanded.
"Hang on..." He scowled as he read over the monitor before him.
A few other bridge crew members glanced over in mild concern before he looked to the captain. "Patching through the communications now!"
She nodded. "Do it."
The man turned back to his station and toggled a few keys. Within mere seconds, the bridge lit up with the voices of people working on something.
"...make sure the deflection is within parameters..."
"...shitting us here with this work...!"
"...stay focused on the task at hand..."
"...ready to trigger the requiem of doom for those space daemons..."
"...relay station four construction speeded up..."
"...unknown parameters given the state of the relay station..."
For a while, people were silent as they heard this. All throughout the Redemption, the speakers played the conversation snippets, and already speculation was starting to stir and sweep throughout the vessel.
"What the hell are they talking about?" someone asked.
"Dunno, but whatever it is, it's got to do with relay stations of some kind," another crew member replied. "And that's what's worrisome. Especially that part about a deflection."
"Do you think it has to do with those colony rings?" a third crewman inquired.
"Maybe," the first woman remarked. "But who knows?"
Up on the bridge, Captain Amass and Spray were staring at those rings, noticing a few shimmering waves in the center of one of them. "Damn... it's just like they said..." Spray muttered. "They've got a deflection field. But for what? Some kind of beam?"
"We don't know," Hannah clarified. "But that is a fairly logical guess to make. As for how powerful it is... well, we're not sure if it is a beam weapon at this point."
"We could stay a bit longer, but I think we're kind of pushing it as it is," the helmsman remarked, looking a bit pale.
"What's going on?" Spray asked him.
"It's the Mirage Colloid... we're running out of the particles," the man responded. "We have to leave while we still have time before we run out."
Captain Amass nodded. "Right. We have what we need, as well as a possible guess as to what those relays could be used for. So let's get out of here before we get caught."
The helmsman nodded and put the stealthy vessel into a turn, making as much haste as he could while still prioritizing the Redemption's safety.
However, the last thing any of them expected was to hear the alarm as the last of the Mirage Colloid particles finally ran out.
. . .
AFSF HOUND DOG
The captain's eyes were wide as he stared at the vessel as it literally materialized before their very eyes.
The very space around it seemed to shimmer before it dissipated in a flash, exposing a much different vessel than they had been briefed on.
Whereas the battleships they knew and used were more tapered at the bow and concealed their hangars, this ship had numerous hangars. In fact, it had the most out of any ship in the world. Having taken the basic idea of the Archangel-class and its successors, the resistance had instead chosen to up the number of hangars to five, increasing the number of mobile suits it could carry. This necessitated the installation of five catapults and a recovery deck. The catapults were laid out in the front of the ship like legs, and on the underside of the port and starboard catapults there was another catapult. The hangars were positioned behind these catapults, allowing for rapid deployment of mobile suits stored aboard her. The last catapult at the rear was where the recovery deck was located, although in a pinch the deck could also double as a last resort catapult, he guessed. The body of the ship itself was boxy, and kind of blocky compared to the Girty Lue-class, making it seem more durable and robust. The bridge, in a copy of the Archangel to an extent, was on an extended 'neck' that stuck up from close to the middle of the ship. Just a ways behind it, though, the ship also possessed a pair of large 'wings' like those found on an airplane. The ship, it was said, resembled a horse at rest.
And that was made all the more formidable by its arsenal.
The ship possessed a vastly superior firepower suite when compared to the Girty Lue and her sister ships. Forward and aft of her bridge, as well as underneath the hull, were four turrets each containing two beam cannons. These guns possessed a wide range of movement and degree of fire, which was essential given the ship's large mass and weight. For frontal attacks, the ship was equipped with a single barrel beam cannon located on the outermost corner of the starboard and port catapults. This was mostly used to deter enemies from attacking the catapults. But that was only the beginning. The surprise of the ship lay in its mega particle cannons hidden within the sides of the vessel. When they were deployed, it looked as if they could provide coverage in a complete circle. But as a downside, they could not elevate to meet enemies coming from much larger angles. The ship was also outfitted with a vertical launch system, possessing three twenty-four tube systems, two atop the starboard and port hangars, and one located behind the bridge. For defense, the ship was equipped with twenty-eight two barrel defensive guns. These weapons were incredibly fast at firing, but as a result the ship's fire control radar could not keep up with the fast rate, limiting the accuracy of the guns. Underneath the main catapult was a single satellite dish.
The vessel was also colored much differently.
The majority of it was painted a dark gray color, with light gray on the three main catapults; same with the two underside. The rear recovery deck was also a light gray color, and on the sides of its main body were two cyan lines snaking down towards the main catapult. The covers for the main particle cannons on the sides of the vessel were bright gold, and the wings on either side of the bridge were mostly dark gray with red edges while on the side of the bridge tower was the roundel for the United States Space Forces.
This was the resistance flagship, the very same one that had been listed in the reports.
"Well... now we know how they escaped us," the captain mused with a savage grin. "But it looks like their time has run out."
"Yes, sir!" another man said with an eager glint in his eyes. "What are your orders?"
"Sink them!" the captain ordered. "They've seen what we're working on. We have to make sure they don't escape. And plus... if we sink that thing, we'd be lauded as heroes!"
The crew broke into cheers as they began to scramble to their battle stations.
Pilots scurried to their lockers and started to suit up as a message began to blare throughout the vessel. "Attention all pilots! Report to your machines at once! There are intruders in our vicinity, and it falls to us to make sure that they do not interfere with the Glorious Crusade of Lord Djibril!"
Men slipped on their flight suits, a few donning their helmets before exiting the locker room, some even scrambling to get out of there before their fellows did. It was an utter madhouse, in contrast to the orderly frenzy that the resistance pilots did. Within fifteen minutes, the men were making their way down to the hangar to mount their machines for the coming combat.
Within minutes, the pilots had mounted their mobile suits and began to start preparations for launch. The first Windam stepped onto the catapult as the Hound Dog pivoted to face the resistance ship. Already the guns mounted to the formidable vessel were pivoting around, their barrels beginning to hum with power.
This was it.
The resistance would die here...
And LOGOs would reign supreme...
Over everyone!
. . .
"Shit...! This is bad!" Spray snarled as he bolted down to the hangar bay. Already some of the other pilots were joining him, and he wasn't alone in his worry.
Just from the expressions on their faces, everyone was as concerned about getting out alive as he was.
And if they had to fight, then so be it.
After all, this was also a good test for the Redemption's combat systems as well as her mobile suits. As it stood, though, he had two machines at his disposal, and he was not about to let all that practice with the Phoenix Striker Pack go to waste. Spray hurriedly dressed in his pilot suit before donning the helmet and exiting the locker room, closing the helmet's visor as he did so. His eyes were hard as he made his way to the Strike Dagger S, intent on using it for one final fight.
Already one of the maintenance technicians looked to him. "Sir? You're not taking the Phoenix Gundam X?"
"No. I've put in a lot of practice with this Striker Pack, and damned if I'm going to let it go to waste!" Spray growled as he opened the cockpit latch and slid into the seat. "Besides, I want this machine to go out in a fitting manner."
"Very well," the man said. "Just be careful out there. Those Windams will slice you to bits if you're not careful."
"I will be," Spray muttered as he slid the cockpit hatch shut. He quickly buckled in and went through the familiar motions of booting up his machine.
In some way, he felt like he owed the Strike Dagger more than just a final send off. This unit had been his from the very beginning, and it was with this machine he had made his mark and joined the resistance. It was with this mobile suit he had attained command of the 1776th Battle Group, and it was with this unit he had defeated Krantz for the first time.
He could recall all the battles he had been in with his Strike Dagger, from the first battles with ZAFT to the final confrontation before his defection. Each one had pushed him to understand his mobile suit and to consider it like a part of him. His fingers ran over the controls fondly, and a small smile crossed his face. "Heh. I'm sorry, old friend..." he whispered. "But... times change and progress is needed. I will be honest though. You helped me get further than I thought possible. And for that, I thank you. I just wish it didn't have to be this way..." He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I really wish it could be otherwise..."
Around him, there was only the faint humming of the batteries, and yet, the more he listened, the more it felt like his Strike Dagger was trying to communicate. He sighed, rubbing the controls briefly, his tears shimmering slightly.
"I just hope you can give me all you have for this."
The Phoenix Dagger S couldn't respond, but he felt as if it had.
Spray opened his eyes and gripped the controls tightly as he heard the command echoing over his mobile suit's communications systems.
"Phoenix Gundam X, you are cleared to launch. Catapult 1 is yours!"
He toggled the radio. "Commander Krane here. Acknowledged. Making way to Catapult 1," he said.
"Understood, Commander. Catapult is being calibrated for your mobile suit and payload," Control responded.
Spray began to maneuver the Phoenix Dagger S to the main catapult as its doors slid open, exposing the emptiness of space; the hangar had been depressurized a few minutes prior to launch. The rebel ace knelt his machine down and girded himself for the final launch. "Commander, you are cleared for launch. Transferring timing to you."
"Commander Krane, Phoenix Dagger S... LAUNCHING!" he cried.
Within mere seconds, the catapult surged forward, and he felt that telltale pressure on his chest as he gritted his teeth. Just five seconds later, his machine was released and he glanced to the ship on the rear cameras. Already he could see a few other units exiting the vessel, preparing for combat as the Atlantian warship started to draw closer. He could see a number of mobile suits deploying from the Agamemnon-class, and his eyes narrowed as he pivoted his machine slightly.
'Okay, so they've got one of those arrows chasing us,' he thought. 'And with the number of mobile suits, I can only infer it's one of their elite units.'
His alerts blared at that point and his eyes widened as he spotted the incoming missiles from the Windams and spun his machine around, gripping the beam rifle before flaring the wings on the Phoenix Striker and engaging them.
Already his hours of practice were coming into play and he felt the jerk of acceleration as the Voiture Lumiere system kicked in, the energy exiting out of the 'feather'-like protrusions. Like with the Phoenix Gundam X, these were red near the exit point for the emitters and faded to blue midway down. But they were not as pronounced due to the lack of a nuclear fusion reactor. And with only batteries, he was pushing it as it was. The extra battery packs were coming in handy as he shut down the system and pivoted, firing his machine's beam rifle at the Windams that had attacked him.
The missiles exploded as the Phoenix Dagger S accelerated fast enough to leave behind a small afterimage, causing them to strike one another and blow up. The Windams tried to get a lock on the speeding mobile suit, but the pilot's reflexes were too fast and he fired his beam rifle, striking three of the Windams in the chest and causing them to explode. He brought his shield up to defend himself as three other Windams attacked, forcing him onto the defensive. Their beam rifles' shots struck his shield, making him back up slightly. "Crap...!" he muttered. "This isn't good...!"
One of the other Windams lunged at him from behind, causing Spray's radar to blare in his hearing. His eyes widened as he gasped, spinning around and bringing up a beam saber swiftly to block the other machine's sword. His eyes narrowed as he gritted his teeth, putting more effort into the block. He didn't hesitate to go low, bringing up the hand with the beam rifle in it and clubbing the Windam over the head with the barrel of his beam rifle. The Windam retreated, shaking the helm before the pilot regained their senses and charged in again. He was as calm as a cucumber, his eyes clear and his mind focused.
That was something his enemy was not.
And he knew it.
. . .
Captain Amass's eyes hardened as she felt the Redemption shudder under an onslaught from the Agamemnon-class's weapons.
"Shit...!" she muttered. She could already see that their ace pilot was giving it all he had, but even with his skills, there was no guarantee that he'd defeat all those Windams alone. The twelve other machines that had launched, coupled with Turbine, were sticking close to the Redemption, but even that was not going to last for long. The arrow-shaped vessel was drawing closer with each passing moment, and it was only a matter of time before a few others got in range, too.
"Ma'am, we're ready to deploy all weapons!" the chief gunnery officer remarked.
"Then get them up and running!" she barked.
"Yes, ma'am!" came the reply.
She shot a glance to the ship silhouette positioned right next to the left armrest. The guns on the upper and lower hulls lit up, and she toggled them to show the view of fire from the external cameras just above them. The targeting systems, controlled by the gunner stations close by, moved and locked onto one of the incoming Windam waves. Three of the mobile suits were struck by the wave of AA fire, destroying them and severing the limbs of two more that swooped out of the smoke. The guns kept pivoting, targeting the Windams as they started to swarm from other ships in the area.
"Crap!" someone blurted. "We're beginning to draw a lot of attention!"
"I noticed!" Hannah remarked, her eyes narrowed. "How's it looking on the engines?"
"Engines are still operational, but we have to maintain a decent speed to allow our machines to keep pace," the helmsman reported. "We go any faster, and we'll lose them!"
"Keep current speed!" the captain barked. "We've got to get out of this area!"
"A lot easier said than done!" the radar operator exclaimed. She glanced up, her eyes wide. "We've got incoming forces from all angles!"
"Shit...!" Hannah swore.
The Redemption's entire hull shuddered and everyone cried out as the vessel got hit by a slew of beam weapons. But true to her specifications, she was able to tank it with little trouble. In fact, the sturdy armor only had scorch marks on the paint. But it was only a matter of time before more firepower landed on the ship.
"We got trouble from the flanks!" someone reported.
"Open fire with the Twin Breaker Cannons!" Hannah barked.
"Yes, ma'am!" the man replied. Within a few minutes, the entire ship shuddered briefly as on the exterior, the twin covers for the mega particle cannons slid open to expose the guns. The twin barrels gleamed as the aptly named Twin Breaker Cannons started to glow with orangish light. The beams fired not even fifteen seconds later, sending orangish energy blasts right for the incoming Agamemnon-class. The beams struck on the front, penetrating through the hulls and causing the twin arrow-shaped ships to explode. The Atlantian forces were stunned by this sudden development, as it showed that these resistance fighters had their heads in the game.
The captain of the one attacking from the rear continued to send his units for the ship, but the Windams attacking were in for a big surprise when the AA cannons on the ship began to open fire at rapid-fire rates. One Windam managed to sneak in close, only for a veritable wave of bullets to cut into the machine, penetrating the joints and exposed optical visor. The Windam blew up as the Redemption's mobile suits continued to act as defense against any others that tried to get close. Already the GMs were readying their Jammer Packs for use, and she had to be prepared.
"All personnel, be prepared for when our instruments and radar go offline!" she barked. "When the GMs unleash their Mirage Colloid particles, we'll have to rely solely on our eyes for targeting, so remember your training and adjust accordingly!"
"Yes, ma'am!" the gunners exclaimed.
The captain of the Redemption had been very insistent on training to use the guns' manual targeting system instead of relying on computers alone. Her decision had been considered prudent and wise, as it allowed the ship's gunners to keep tabs on their targets without the need to use their targeting systems. And it proved to be a sound decision when the GMs unleashed their Jammer Packs.
Sensor readings across the ship went down as the Mirage Colloid particles spread out across the area. The GMs were moving swiftly, dispersing the Mirage Colloid particles over a wide range. With the disruption of radar and radio communications, along with infrared, the vessel was now reliant on the skills of its crew, not just the targeting systems.
Already two of the gunners swung the AA guns around and opened fire, their finely honed skills tracking and locking onto the targets. The guns spat out their bullets at a fast rate of fire that no computer could keep up with. The spray-and-pray defense acted as a good deterrent for one of the Windams as it tried to fly in for another attack, only to be driven back by the wall of fire.
The only question now was...
How long could they hold out?
. . .
Turbine grunted as he cleaved through a Windam with one of his beam sabers. The machine exploded in a flash of light as he boosted back, using his Titan Shield to protect himself from the oncoming debris and armor pieces.
"Shit...!" he muttered. "Just how low do these bastards have to go?!"
For what it was worth, the AI was giving it all he had to fight, and with the addition of the Mirage Colloid particles to really screw with the radar systems of most mobile suits and ships, it was requiring all of his hard-earned skills and experience that he had gained so far just to stay ahead of the Atlantian Reich's pilots.
His optics flashed as he lowered his shield enough to peep over the top before he adjusted himself and charged forward, his thrusters sending vibrations throughout his frame as he braced for the hit on another Windam. His shield slammed right into the chest of the enemy machine and he gripped his beam saber before shoving it forward, penetrating the cockpit. The pilot inside gasped before the batteries began to overheat and explode. Turbine placed both feet on the Windam and pushed off it, sending it careening into two others. The three machines exploded, and he panted a bit as he scanned around himself.
He could see the Phoenix Dagger S going after another pair of Windams off to the right while on the left the NEMOs were attacking a squadron of Dopplehorn Windams, relying on their speed and agility granted to them by the Orbit Packs. All six were equipped with the Argos missile package, and already it was proving to be a very nasty surprise. A pair of the NEMOs unleashed a pair of missiles each, locking onto two of the Windams incoming. The Windams tried to open fire on the missiles, but the approach vector was right on target.
Turbine had to admit the maneuvering thrusters were quite fiendish indeed, as they swerved around the rounds meant to try and hit them. The missiles juked and weaved with incredible precision, locked onto their targets. The two Windams didn't stand a chance as the Argos missiles struck them directly, each pair slamming into the chest and gut of the machines. They exploded within seconds of impact, and the other Windams tried to fire on the NEMOs. But due to the agility granted by the Orbit Pack and its flexible arms, the NEMOs were able to dodge. A second slew of missiles flew from the leg launchers, each equipped with up to eight Argos missiles, homing in on the Dopplehorn Windams.
He didn't even need to know what the outcome would be as he turned his gaze back towards the Redemption, which was putting out a veritable field of AA fire from its weapons. Turbine engaged his thrusters and sped forward, his gaze locked onto the incoming Multi-Striker Windams. His optics flashed brightly as he holstered his beam saber and drew one of his Shorty beam rifles. He aimed it and fired at one of the Windams, striking the connector hardpoints that linked it to the back of the mobile suit. The Multi-Striker Pack couldn't remain attached and it drifted away, giving Turbine a crazy idea.
He holstered his beam rifle and aimed his free arm at the Multi-Striker, extending the launcher for his grappling line. Within seconds, the grappling claw fired, the cable streaming out behind it like a ribbon as it homed in on the Multi-Striker Pack. The claw snapped open into its three-pronged state and latched onto the former connection port. That gave Turbine the chance to draw back his arm, at the same time reeling in the cable. A second Windam saw this and made to attack, but Turbine repositioned his frame so his shield was in front as he pulled the damaged Striker Pack in close.
The AI's optics flickered a bit as he finally saw the Multi-Striker come his way. He gave a flick of his wrist as it came close, and the grappling claw detached before reeling back into its launcher, which descended back into his forearm. This gave him the chance to slide his shield onto his back; he couldn't use his wing-mounted railguns, but he didn't need to at this moment. Not since he had a greater weapon at his disposal now.
Turbine's optics flashed as he grabbed onto the Multi-Striker Pack and adjusted himself. "All right, bastards!" he hissed. "Let's see how you like this!"
He was quick to link his fire control system directly to the Pack's targeting systems, and as soon as it was synched, he saw the targeting reticle dancing in front of his vision. Already he could see that there were three Windams arcing right for him, and he was not about to let them get close to him or the Redemption. He gripped the launchers before he aimed them and, using his link to the systems, opened fire with the missiles secreted within. The launchers' doors blew open and within mere minutes, the missiles spread out, each one homing in on one of the Windams that were attacking.
Each missile, while not as powerful as the Argos heavy missile, was still considered lethal to mobile suits, and the sheer number was enough to destroy fifteen Windams in one go. Several of the missiles did go off course, but they struck two of the Agamemnon-class ships pursuing the Redemption. The ships were caught off guard by the onslaught and the two that had been damaged began to fall back.
"Nice one, Turbine!" one of the GM pilots remarked. "That'll give them something to think about!"
"Yeah. But only for a short while," the AI replied as he tossed aside the spent Multi-Striker, shutting down the data link to the targeting systems at the same time. He turned back to the rest of the fleet as they started to swarm into an attack formation. "We need to get out of here and now!"
"Agreed!" Spray's voice exclaimed. "I can't keep fighting with my machine in this condition!"
Turbine's optics flashed as he suddenly spun around, spotting the damaged Phoenix Dagger S as it struggled to limp back to the ship, pursued by two other Windams. "Hang on!" he cried.
He grabbed both beam sabers and ignited the thrusters on his legs, forgoing those on his back due to his shield. He dashed forward as fast as he could, drawing out the twin cyan blades. For a brief moment, it showed only blackness on the screen, two cyan flashes of light crossing each other before it returned to normal, showing Turbine on the opposite side of the Dopplehorn Windams. The two Windams sparked across their chests before they exploded in twin fireballs.
As the damaged Phoenix Dagger S limped back into the Redemption's hangar bay, Turbine glanced back, his optics locked onto the incoming machines. "Time to go!" he muttered.
GUNDAM WING: THE PHOENIX RISING
ARC IV
BREWING VENGEANCE
END
(Shows two people crying as they see a child's body in the cockpit of a mobile suit.)
Wipe those tears off your face
(The couple look up as a figure kneels, holding a handkerchief in their hand)
C'mon give me a smile
(The figure is revealed as clouds part, showing it to be President Eisenhower as she smiles softly)
Send me off
(The kerchief blows over the screen before fading to show several divisions of resistance soldiers marching off towards incoming Atlantian forces)
With one of your usual sarcastic wisecracks
(One of them makes a wisecrack and grins, the others laughing as they walk off)
Now I gotta go
(As they head into the horizon, the snow begins to shimmer as the camera pans around)
And head off towards the dazzling sunrise
(The sun is shown in front of the troops as they head into it, becoming engulfed in its light)
Where Grim Death beckons me to the battlefield of blood
(The light fades to show the riots breaking out across the former Atlantian Reich countries)
I will not hesitate
(The resistance's bases are shown on a map as Eisenhower stands up before the men and women in her command center)
Someone murmurs to me
(The camera pans to the left, showing Brigadier General Neuville as he stands before his desk, eyeing the surrounding terrain critically)
"This is the end of the world"
(A soldier looks down, whispering "This is the end of the world.")
Yeah, right
(The general snorts as he leans back)
Like hell I can accept that kind of bullshit
(The camera pans up to show Durandal in his office, his eyes narrowed as his fingers are tented)
Once the die is thrown into the air
(Behind him are images of the prior battles playing out, all according to his plans)
Only God knows the outcome
(Eisenhower is shown next as the camera shifts to the right, showing her observing Djibril as he sits in his office)
That's right
(Djibril's eyes are narrowed as he sees the news reports of the battles in America)
NOBODY KNOWS THE FUTURE!
(Heero and Murrue are shown below the three leaders, standing side by side)
So I want to protect you my love
(The camera moves away to show Spray in the command center of one of the 1776th's ships, eyes narrowed)
Your dreams and your future with my own two hands!
(His eyes close as he recalls America in the past prior to the Reconstruction War, images showing the country's glory going past)
I'll carry on, my way!
(He stands up, the images fading, and he turns to face the camera, his eyes going SEED as his phoenix tattoo lights up)
Even if I have to offer up this life
(The image of the bird engulfs the camera before it fades to show his mobile suit, with the Phoenix Striker, facing down a shadowy mobile suit)
I'll carry on, my way!
(The two machines clash, sparks erupting from the point of contact with their beam sabers)
Without doubt, without fail, I will not forget!
(A flash of light cuts across the screen to show an image of Eisenhower's father and grandfather)
Your tenderness that's softer than snow
(Both men have tender smiles on their faces as Eisenhower closes her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks before she turns and walks off)
I'll carry on, my way!
(Eisenhower is shown before a large compliment of machines and tanks, a squadron of air force jets flying overhead, her braid blowing in the breeze)
So carry on, my world!
(The camera pans around to show Atlantian forces assembled before them)
Within the pit of despair, there's a single ray of hope!
(The shape of a large ship in shadow is shown above the Atlantians as the Redemption is shown above the Americans)
And I'll continue to try to catch it!
(Eisenhower is shown in the middle of blackness, a glimmering ray of light shining as she reaches for it)
Forever!
(She is knocked back, but gets up)
Forever!
(A gust of wind blows her back, but she struggles towards the light)
Forever!
(She is shown reaching for it, defiance on her face as the screen freezes, the title of the series appearing beneath her)
GUNDAM WING: THE PHOENIX RISING