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A Full Frontal Assault: A Gundam Unicorn SI

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Chapter 24
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    • Chapter 24

    ~~~
    U.C. 0094.5.23
    New Miranda, Loum/Side 4, L4
    ~~~

    It was rather hot in the city, I noted, tugging a bit at my button up shirt's collar. Weather Control was either compensating for another event or the colonial administration had decided that there was going to be a heat wave going into summer.

    As strange as I found it, with my prior lifetime of earthnoid weather, there was a weather schedule that was followed extremely strictly in the colonies. Every atom of water was a precious resource and so the distribution of that water into the weather patterns necessary to support the plant and animal life of a colony had been worked down to an exact art. When you read the weekly weather forecast or saw it on the news in a colony, that wasn't a prediction. It was a promise of what weather you would be having that week.

    So the heat, just over the line of comfortability, was deliberate. I just didn't know the reason. That didn't make me like the heat though.

    The clothes I was wearing didn't help my temperature regulation either. A plaid button up under a green tweed jacket with jeans and loafers gave me the doctorate student chic needed to make me a part of the crowd of higher education types that had come sailing into New Miranda for the opening of this grand historical exhibit.

    "Okay, you're good." The voice of Suberoa Zinnerman spoke into my left ear from the earpiece I covered with my hair. "No movements to be concerned about and we can't find anything that looks out of place in the security."

    "Good to hear, Captain." I muttered into my jacket collar, where a tiny microphone had been attached. "Is everything set on your end?"

    "The calvary will be ready if you need it. Marida has the Kshatriya on stand by too." Zinnerman replied with his usual gruff tone.

    "Do pass along my appreciation to Lieutenant Cruz for her diligence." I replied. "I'm heading in now."

    The other side of the line clicked twice in acknowledgement. I walked out from the bistro awning I had been standing under. I frowned, again, at the heat and sipped the iced macchiato I had bought from the bistro in order to take shelter in its shade.

    Stingy place.

    Folding myself into the crowd that was flowing its way down the boulevard, I made my way to the museum's main entrance. I whistled at the sight of it. They really had gone all out for this exhibit. Lapis lazuli colored walls, gold cuneiform script and inlays of Babylon's ancient deities. Holographic projections provided translations of the major inscriptions on the brick.

    I never thought that I would see a full replica of the entire Ishtar Gate of Babylon, but the effect was very striking.

    Passing under the lesser gate, I saw that the ticketing booth to the museum had been set up under the arch of the greater gate. I queued up, politely smiling at the other museum goers. Five minutes later, it was my turn.

    "Ticket please." The security guard said, holding out a gloved hand.

    "Of course." I handed over the provided ticket. The guard's eyebrows moved up at the sight of the ticket. He quickly punched the ticket and handed it back to me, bowing to me as he did so.

    "Pardon for any delay sir. We didn't know that one of the backer's would be using the main entrance today." He gestured off to the side, to a door that didn't have any metal detectors. "Please enjoy your visit to the New Miranda Institute of History. Thank you for your sponsorship of the historical arts."

    I bit down a 'you too' and walked into the museum, giving the guard a thank you as I passed him. The back of my neck prickled from the hostile stares I was getting. Once inside of the building, I rubbed my neck.
    "Jeez, what a passionate group of people." I muttered, checking over the museum floor map.

    Zinnerman had done his research when he had been approached by this entity, of course. The exhibit that I was walking into had been possible through the heavy financial support of several very wealthy spacenoid notables in order to secure the artifacts from their home institutions on Earth.

    As a show of gratitude for those notables' financial support, the museum gave them first class tickets to the choicest items on display, allowing one with the ticket to bypass the normal guide groups needed to go see these items and just…waltz on it to take a look like I was doing.

    It was certainly an indiscrete way to flex your wealth and power if I ever saw on. Though the only other one I had been party to was the Martha Vist Carbine approach, and that had involved machine gun turrets being pointed at me. Hopefully not the baseline.

    Having located the chamber where my meeting was to take place on the map, I made my way to the west wing of the museum. Along the way I fed my position to Zinnerman, who in turn orchestrated the movement of the hundred strong band of heavily armed members of the Neo Zeon Attack Force that skulked the area around the museum.

    That was my backup in case this meeting took a turn for the worst. We also had three mobile suits, the Kshatriya included, in the colony dock. Personally I had my trusty ZM-03 pistol on a shoulder holster.

    Benefits of having a ticket that let me past the security without needing to be checked, huh?

    Finally, I was at the meeting location.

    This rotunda currently held the exhibit called 'The Development of Law and Order'', which the gold lettering on the blue banner above the double doors so proudly proclaimed.

    I pushed through. A variety of mini exhibits were clustered together in the niches of the rotunda, showing this legal development, or this regional pottery trend and how the dimensions of the amphora showcase the grain laws of Ur or this king's commissioned poetry reflecting his interest in regulating the power of the priesthood of Marduk.

    Very dry stuff, I gotta be honest.

    But the centerpiece was something different. It was directly in the center of the rotunda, with a beam of light from the roof shining directly down on it. A nearly eight foot tall rounded pillar of basalt with lines upon lines of small cuneiform text all along it had been set up. At the top of the pillar had been carved two figures, a seated man with a long beard and gown presenting something to a standing man with a similarly long beard, though not as long as the first figure.

    A tall glass case encased the stone edifice, protecting it from the elements, and I imagine wandering hands. Around the case were various pieces of information about this exhibit.

    A man stood in front of the pillar, his back turned to me. I looked around, seeing nobody else in the rotunda. Checking my watch, I saw that I was right on time.

    Walking up to the stand to the right side of the suited man, I looked down at the text he had been reading. I focused down on it briefly. A particular line caught my attention.


    "The Jacques de Morgan Stele has inscribed on it the Code of Hammurabi in Old Babylonian. It is the most complete copy unearthed to date of the Near East's earliest legal code. On generous loan to the New Miranda Institute of History from the Musée du Louvre."

    "Impressive, isn't it?" The man I was standing next to asked. I turned my head to look at him. He was average looking with a widow's peak. Brown hair, brown eyes. Slightly hawkish nose. And a pair of very thick eyebrows. He bore a rather severe look.

    "To some, I imagine." I replied. "Depends on what you're looking for."

    The man clicked his tongue. "That it does. Full Frontal, I take it?"

    "In the flesh. And I have an idea about who you are, though proper introductions are in order." I joked, deflecting away from a somber conversational tone. Nanai had told me that was a flaw I needed to correct. Char had apparently been a major buzzkill in his last years.

    "Of course, it would be unseemly for me to have you at such an advantage for longer than necessary." The man replied, his words taking a formal pattern to them. "My name is Meitzer Ronah. As your man Zinnerman might have informed you. It is an unusual pleasure to be able to stand here and speak with the man who has thrown the Earth Sphere into as much chaos as you have. And in such a short amount of time too!"

    "You flatter me, Mr. Ronah." So the next great actor of the Universal Century has finally revealed itself. "Though I'm sure my infamy comes nowhere near to what Char Aznable amassed during the last war."

    "Oh you'd be surprised then if you had the chance to listen to the conversations I've been privy to." Meitzer Ronah retorted. "While the person who ignites the fire will leave a lasting impression, the one who tends to the flame and keeps its power burning will always be remembered."

    "Those entrenched in power are talking about you, Full Frontal, though their myriad thoughts about you and yours are always presented to the public as a unified narrative of resistance." He continued on. "But among friends and allies, they mull and scheme over what they need to do in order to sway you into their existing order of corruption and nepotism."

    "Conversations which you have never been a part of?" I asked, surreptitiously looking around the rotunda. I couldn't see anything out of place yet, and my sixth sense was tingling in alarm.

    Meitzer Ronah smiled a bit. "Oh I was certainly there, though I was part of the observing many, not the participating few. Tell me, what do you know about the Buch Concern?"

    I shrugged, pulling from intelligence briefings Nanai had started running me through in order to enhance my understanding of the political world of the Earth Sphere. "A newer megacorporation that deals in mining and machine part production, with a dozen subdivision companies under its umbrella. Middle of the pack in the Fortune 500 index. Not bad for a purely spacenoid company, I've been told."

    From the slight furrow of Ronah's eyebrows, I could tell that last statement cut at him. "From a purely financial outlook that is correct, however you and I are not concerned with just money, I can tell. Money is one of many tools that men like us use to bring about our new worlds."

    I agreed with him. If I actually had real accountants in Neo Zeon, they would have all died of heart attacks long ago with the way I was spending capital and accruing very concerning amounts of debt.

    "I've been clear on my beliefs before, Meitzer Ronah." I began. "My concern is the liberation of the spacenoids from the political tyranny of the Earth Sphere. The restoration of human self determination for those who live outside of that blue sphere. A continuation of the political revolution that Zeon first sparked among the Sides in its purest forms, divorced from the Zabi monarchism that derailed its initial spread."

    "As can be evidenced by your reformation of the old AEUG moniker." Ronah observed.

    "Indeed." I mentally pondered the situation for a heart beat. "While I can't comment on your own beliefs in detail, I can make a few guesses based on our locale alone."

    That was a lie, but it was unsporting to give the game away.

    "However I detest misunderstandings amongst potential friends." I continued. "So if you want, we can take this meeting to a more private venue, instead of a public museum."

    Ronah Metzer chuckled and looked up at the carved image of Hammurabi. "Very well, but first let me return the philosophical insight you provided with one of my own cause."

    "What do you see when you look at that image, of Hammurabi being blessed by the patron god of Babylon, Shamash, with the law that today bears his name?"

    I shrugged. "Standard mesopotamian religious iconography?"

    "Haha, close. I see his father, the soul of the former king looking over his son's shoulders, observing his actions with pride. While we learn about Hammurabi and his revolutionary code of law, itself the core of justice in ancient civilizations up to Persia, we don't learn about Hammurabi's father. And why should we? Hammurabi was the one who placed himself into immortality through his rule of Babylon and the empire he forged."

    He walked around the stele, one arm outstretched so that he was nearly touching the ancient artifact. He seemed honestly starstruck by the thing, looking up at it with reverential awe.

    He talked as he moved. "But if you care to look deeper into the story, you learn that what Hammurabi accomplished in his lifetime was only possible through the foundation that his father built for him. Oh, his successes are certainly his own, but the opportunity to become great was a gift given to father by son."

    He completed his circuit of the stele and turned back to look at me. "I know I won't be a Hammurabi or Alexander the Great or William the Conqueror. No great empire will I create. What I strive to be is the one who builds the strong foundation for my own Hammurabi, who will create a new Babylonia for this age where mankind travels the cosmos. The template for governance for the next two thousand years."

    Our eyes met, I imagined he saw the same conviction of belief in my eyes that I saw in his.

    "You and I, Full Frontal, will not be remembered by history but our successors will be giants to future generations. That is why I reached out to you. Kindred spirits should aid each other. Honest believers are a dying breed in these times."

    He sighed suddenly after looking down at his watch. "Looks like we are going to have to switch locations now, my private viewing window is nearly up."

    "Hopefully it's less public than this." I said.

    "Oh, much more private, yes." He nodded along with his words. "Ah, if you don't mind doing something first?"

    "What?"

    "Have your men stand down." He simply said. I raised my eyebrows. "No need for alarm. It's just that I called off my guards about fifteen minutes ago and your people are starting to make them nervous."

    I wish I could say that I thought about it for a minute before responding.

    "All clear." I spoke into the mike hidden in my jack collar following up with two clicks of the mike. The prearranged signal that things really were all clear.

    Ronah smiled. "Thank you, Full Frontal, for the show of trust. I promise you I have no ill intentions towards you."

    He gestured at a side door and began walking to it. I followed after him.

    Why the show of trust? It wasn't because of Newtype intuition or based on a read I had gotten of his character, rather it came down to a gamble. You had to roll the dice of chance often in this type of profession, usually with no back up should things turn sour.

    If I had to write a self help book called "Insurgency 101", then rule number one would read like "Always be prepared to take risks that may result in death".

    And if this dice roll did come up snake eyes, I still had the Kshatriya on stand by. Rule number two of Insurgency 101 being "Always have a backup for the original backup".

    ~~~

    The next week both passed in a whirlwind of activity and dragged on forever. Meetings in the morning, meetings over lunch, meetings in the afternoon, meetings in the evening and meetings late at night. A few hours of sleep and then the process began again.

    The vast majority of those meetings didn't involve an alliance between the Buch Concern and the AEUG. Instead, I was treated to a first rate education on the values of Cosmo Babylonia, the dream of Meitzer Ronah. A heady combination of noblesse oblige, a rigorous meritocracy to create and maintain the noble class, and executive absolutism with a dash of free market command economy to round everything off.

    It was a very well thought out ideology that Meitzer Ronah and his compatriots had created and when I was being guided through the finer points by such honest believers, I could see the appeal. Men and women put in charge for their ability and competence, given rank and title to give the necessary incentive for them to remain competent. The granted title could be taken away just as easily as it was given.

    As I said, very heady stuff. It was almost enough to make me overlook the utter lack of political representation for anyone who wasn't of the new noble class.

    So there were negatives of Meitzer Ronah's innovative system of governance and the ideology of that system. Not a surprise.

    The rest of my time with Ronah and Company had been spent arranging their entrance into the AEUG. It had been a very frustrating process.

    The main problem was that Meitzer Ronah wasn't the man in charge of the Buch Concern, he was just the chief executive officer. His father, Scharnorst Ronah (formerly Buch), had stepped back from active leadership in the company's affairs in the mid 0080s but retained majority control over major decisions. Major decisions like redirecting company assets to build warships and mobile suits.

    The second roadblock was Meitzer's older brother, Engeist Ronah. Currently on his third term as a member of the Earth Federation Assembly, representing the Eastern North American province of the Federation. He wasn't active in the company, but his politics were on the record as being earth-centric.

    What my Ronah wanted was for his faction of the Concern, the ones dedicated to his vision of a Cosmo Babylonia, to become the silent backers of the movement. They couldn't cough up the reactors or frames that Anaheim was giving us, unfortunately, but they could give us electronics and raw materials. The components that we could manufacture into weapons.

    And the support of deniable assets that reported to Meitzer alone. The Birnham PMC looked to be an early incarnation of Crossbone Vanguard, though they lacked the dedication to the cause that I remembered those future pilots having. If I needed a convoy raided and didn't want it to be traced back to me and mine, then Meitzer could have Birnham attack the target in AEUG's place.

    That was all the support that Meitzer could guarantee to the AEUG at this point. He did promise far more extravagant support in the future (timeframe not provided) when he took direct control from his father and could seed the high echelons of the Buch Concern with Babylonians.

    And the cost?

    Why nothing more than a few promises of my own in return, three to be specific. I would provide military advisors to the Cosmo Babylonian, to drill them in mobile suit and naval tactics, when the time came.

    Easy to make and keep.

    The involvement of the Ronah family in support of the AEUG would be kept off the record. A matter of the highest security in the organization, known only to the members of the AEUG Council. Meitzer Ronah had more than a passing familiarity with the involvement of Anaheim with Neo Zeon, and didn't want to draw Anaheim's ire on him.

    Another easy promise to make and keep.

    The last one was the real bitter pill.

    The AEUG would support Cosmo Babylonia when it emerged and would not interfere with its internal affairs.

    So when the "revolution" was launched, we'd be swinging down from on high to install the authoritarians and leave them alone to create their Babylonia in peace.

    Yeah, that was a fucking pill to swallow. The irony of the agreement wasn't lost on me. The self appointed champion of spacenoid self determination, selling out an entire Side, because of course they wanted an entire side to themselves, because a war can't be won with cold reactors and empty magazines.

    In the end, that third promise was made and I set off back to the Garden of Thorns.

    This whole alliance process between the AEUG and Meitzer's faction of the Buck Concern wasn't going to be finalized just like that. We were in for the long woo with this one. No one and done like with Pepe or Mayor Mann.

    Hopefully we'd have this wrapped up by the start of July, or the start of August at the latest. The recruitment drives for Neo Zeon would have finished by then and there would be a surplus of new members waiting to be assigned to postings that would be created through the war material Ronah could provide.

    Now the real concern was putting down any grumblings from within my own forces at having to ally with another megacorp. There were a bizarre amount of purists in those who came from Axis. Purists in the sense that they only wanted to associate with those who had supported the Principality in the first war.

    I believed they wouldn't raise too much of a ruckus, and Zinnerman agreed with my analysis. If I was wrong, Dawson would be able to step in on my side.

    I looked over at the holographic clock in my quarters on the Garencieres. 1500 hours on the dot. We'd be home in two hours as Zinnerman had elected to take us along a less populated flight lane, one that skirted the edge of the shoal zone. At the right position, we'd slip off the charted path and onto the ones that our scouts had bushwhacked into the shoal zone and fly into the docking bay in time for dinner.

    All according to schedule.

    Then the Earth Federation found us.

    A/N - dun dun dunnnn. So the other side showed some of that proactiveness they occasionally stumble into. How unlucky for SI Frontal and gang, wonder where this will take them?

    Cosmo Babylonia is in its infancy right now. So I wanted to reflect that in the power that they could bring to the table for the Neo AEUG. No crazy planet killer weapons in the future right now unfortunately.

    See you all next time for the "surprise attack" on the Garencieres.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • BalerionTheDrake said:
    The AEUG would support Cosmo Babylonia when it emerged and would not interfere with its internal affairs.

    So when the "revolution" was launched, we'd be swinging down from on high to install the authoritarians and leave them alone to create their Babylonia in peace.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Full Frontal: "You were taught politics and diplomacy, weren't you, Lady?"
    Mineva Lao Zabi: "...Yes?"
    Full Frontal: "I need you to teach me how to offer a foreign polity enough rope to hang themselves with while obtaining their help in the present. With the intention of becoming their hangman in the future."
    Mineva Lao Zabi: "...What?"
     
    Last edited:
    is it too late to convert the sinanju stein into the hi-nu? I think our hero is tempting fate by not getting something with a gundam head
     
    silentorphan said:
    Full Frontal: "You were taught politics and diplomacy, weren't you, Lady?"
    Mineva Lao Zabi: "...Yes?"
    Full Frontal: "I need you to teach me how to offer a foreign polity enough rope to hang themselves with while obtaining their help in the present. With the intention of becoming their hangman in the future."
    Mineva Lao Zabi: "...What?"
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    "No this is a dumb idea. Your teacher for that lost because she became obsessed with a teenager."

    "Zinnerman! You had to play politics while you were stuck on earth, right?"
    stairmaster said:
    is it too late to convert the sinanju stein into the hi-nu? I think our hero is tempting fate by not getting something with a gundam head
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Can't improve perfection
     
    BalerionTheDrake said:
    "No this is a dumb idea. Your teacher for that lost because she became obsessed with a teenager."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Gundam Narrative (and really, the last third of the Unicorn novels) showed that Audrey actually does have a solid grasp of political reality; it's just that since she has zero actual power or even much of a solid base, she's unable to do anything on the world stage, much to her own frustration.
     
    silentorphan said:
    Gundam Narrative (and really, the last third of the Unicorn novels) showed that Audrey actually does have a solid grasp of political reality; it's just that since she has zero actual power or even much of a solid base, she's unable to do anything on the world stage, much to her own frustration.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Maybe, but she wasn't trained effectively to keep internal politics in line. Narrative deals with external politics to Mineva's faction.
     
    Chapter 25
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 25

    ~~~
    U.C. 0094.5.31
    En route to the Garden of Thorns
    ~~~

    I soared into the bridge, literally soared, as I had been launching myself off the hallway corners like a madman to reach the bridge since the alarms had started sounding. Not before quickly stuffing myself in my pilot-type normal suit of course. I grabbed onto the handles behind Zinnerman's command chair to halt my forward momentum, and jerked my feet back onto the metal floor.

    "Report." I rasped out, having had the misfortune to be brushing my teeth when the alarms sounded. My mouth felt kinda gritty from the toothpaste still.

    Zinnerman was silent for a moment as he stared down at the screen in front of him. His gaze looked on navigational charts like a hawk watching its prey.

    His eyes flicked around on the screen for another moment before replying to me.

    "We're being challenged by a Federation customs cruiser." He pointed at a symbol that was bright red on his screen. The approaching ship. "The Garencieres has been randomly chosen for a spot inspection. They're quoting it was part of an anti-smuggling operation in the shoal zone"

    I looked up and saw Flaste Schole, Zinnerman's number two, manning the comms station instead. It obviously wasn't his usual posting, I noted, as he was standing over another crewman.

    "Can they do that?" I asked Zinnerman.

    He grunted in annoyance. "Unfortunately yes. Smuggling of contraband through the shoal zones has been a problem for the Federation since the One Year War. The Titans were tamping down on it but now it appears that duty has fallen back to Space Forces."

    "What are we looking at?" I asked. The Garencieres had barely any mounted weapons, in order to aid in its role as part of Neo Zeon's intelligence ships. We'd lose a shooting war against any proper warship. But we had mobile suits.

    Zinnerman quickly tapped away on his screen and brought up a camera feed of the approaching ship. It was still too far away for our eyes to make out its details. I looked over at the map that was tracking the distance between the two ships. We'd be able to see them soon.

    "It's a Lepanto-class frigate. Old design from before the One Year War. Heavy focus on missile with minimal mega-particle cannons." Zinnerman quickly rattled off. "No native mobile suit capacity and it looks like this one hasn't been modified to hold them."

    "What happens in this kind of inspection?" I asked. Maybe we could flash papers to the boarding party, slide a fat bribe into their hands, and this would all be over in no time.

    "Full procedures." Zinnerman's response dashed my hopes of this situation not escalating. "They'll send a boarding team of marines along with the inspectors. Check our registrations, our cargo manifest and then check everything in the hold to make sure they match."

    "Too much to hope that our manifest has about a hundred heavily armed soldiers and a contingent of mobile suits on it?"" I jested. Zinnerman didn't appreciate the levity.

    "No."


    My next words were interrupted by the clang of boots hitting the metal floor behind Zinnerman and myself. I looked over my shoulder to see Marida Cruz snapping to attention.

    "Sir. Master." She greeted us, looking at each of us in turn.

    "I told you not to call me that." Zinnerman grouched.

    "Sorry master." Marida replied. She looked at me expectantly.

    "Report Lieutenant." I nodded. Maybe the semi unstable clone had an idea. I was open to anything.

    "The Kshatriya is ready to sortie," She informed us like she was commenting on the weather. "I will go and destroy the approaching enemy. Gilboa and Ivan will stay to protect the ship."

    "Absolutely not!" Zinnerman chopped a hand through the air for emphasis. "It's too big a risk for you to go out alone in this situation, and that frigate will be able to blow us into space dust with its missiles quicker than you could take it out. "

    He glanced over at me, seeming to have forgotten that I was here.

    "Not to mention that it isn't your decision to make."

    "Captain Zinnerman is correct, Lieutenant Cruz." I moved the topic of conversation along, while deciding to keep things grounded in ranks. I couldn't escape the faint feeling that I had stumbled into a small part of a larger conversation between these two.

    "Minovsky particles aren't dense enough to disguise our mobile suits being deployed, or to throw off the enemy's targeting computers." I rubbed my free right hand against my chin. "Not to mention that it is imperative for Neo Zeon's long term success that we don't draw any more Federation presence to this shoal zone than we already have. Destroying Federation ships along our approaches to the zone will only draw eyes to parts we need to ensure remain known only to us."

    "Too far away to make a run for the shoal zone anyway." Zinnerman interjected, his eyes back to staring at the charts showing his ship moving closer and closer to the customs frigate.

    Before I could speak my next words, a cry rang out from the other side of the bridge.

    "They've issued their last warning to power down our engines and submit to an inspection." Flaste Schole shouted.

    Zinnerman's grip on his chair's armrests tightened and I could hear the fabric of his normal suit creaking.

    "Their next step is to fire one shot across our bow, then if we don't obey their commands, they take out the engines." He told me. I stamped down on the urge to fidget as the gazes of everyone on the bridge turned to me.

    Time to be a leader.

    "Captain Zinnerman." I intoned. "I am ordering you to make like a smuggler, and run. That ship would be able to get off a transmission before we could destroy it, or even destroy us. So it is time to leave."

    "Right." Zinnerman nodded with determination. "Flaste, back to your station! Turn ninety degrees to port and bring us to full throttle! Then another turn and get us out of here"

    "Alec! Get ECM up and start broadcasting minovsky particles!"

    Zinnerman quickly grabbed his command chair's phone. "Tomura, I need the reactor at full blast and, no, I don't care about the long term effects to it. We can always get another."

    Captain Zinnerman effortlessly took command of his ship and I had to grip the handrail as the ship lurched. We were gaining speed.

    While Zinnerman continued to conduct his orchestra with masterful skill, I turned back to Marida Cruz. "Lieutenant Cruz, go to your mobile suit stand by to launch. If worse comes to worse, you'll be making the attack run on the frigate."

    "Sir." She stiffened to attention before turning, grabbing the corner of the doorframe, and hurling herself down the hallway. She stamped her feet onto a wall and blasted off down another hallway, moving out of my sight in less than thirty seconds.

    "Feeling left out?" Zinnerman asked me. I sniffed in annoyance before responding.

    "A little. That's what I get for not bringing my own mobile suit with me." I laughed a little before continuing. "Guess I won't be able to add to my kill count today."

    "Guess not." Zinnerman replied. He looked around the bridge before leaning closer to me. I picked up on a shift in the tone of the air, and matched his movement.

    "I am trying to take us back to Loum." He muttered to me. "But what's the plan if that isn't possible?"

    A good question and one I hoped Zinnerman would have the answer to.

    "Make for the Moon?"

    Zinnerman was shaking his head before I had even finished speaking.

    "Federation ships are still swarming its traffic lanes. Second they get a report of one of the custom ships in hot pursuit of a runway they'll converge and grab us. Can't miss the chance to look competent for once."

    I was spared from having to make something up on the spot by another shout from Schole.

    "Incoming heat signatures. It's a missile barrage!"

    "Deploy flares!" Zinnerman snapped out immediately. "And take evasive maneuvers. Alec! Where is my minovsky particle screen!"

    "Still being brought up captain!" The stocky man in question replied. "I need more juice from the reactor to be able to break all their locks. Right now I'm just making them squint before firing."

    "It's being worked on. Deal with it as best you can for now and get me my screen." Zinnerman commanded.

    "Countermeasures armed and ready!" Flaste Schole called out.

    Zinnerman waited for a moment, tracking the seconds before the missile barrage was on us.

    "Fire!" He cried out at what seemed to me to be the last possible minutes. I watched on a screen as a volley of flares were fired out of the rear of the ship, causing the missiles to track them instead of the ship. Then the screen flared white as the explosions blended together in torrent of light.

    The Garencieres trembled from the force unleashed just off its bow.

    "Second wave's been fired. Forty-five seconds to impact." Flaste rattled off.

    "I've got them!" Alec the electronic man said. I watched as three of the eight missiles veered off into empty space, and another round of flares stopped the rest.

    I leaned over to Zinnerman. "This isn't going to work. We might be able to outrun the ship but a missile frigate probably has more missiles than we do flares."

    "Do you have a plan?" Zinnerman said in hushed words. I looked out the starboard windows. Zinnerman followed my gaze.

    "That's so stupid it just might work." He muttered. But I felt that he was hooked on the plan. Any half baked plan was better than being vented due to a missile.

    "Can you do it captain?" I challenged, managing to put the right inflection to my words that I knew would make Zinnerman's professional pride prickle at the unspoken insinuation. Usually I used the skill to josh pilots I was training against to make stupid moves. It was nice for it to be useful outside of those tightly controlled bouts.

    "Heh, I've done more risky moves than this." Zinnerman stated.

    I grinned. "There's the spirit captain. Besides, I need to work on my tan anyways."

    ~~~

    Our do or die plan decided on, Zinnerman shot the Garencieres back around, taking us away from Loum and down towards the big blue ball that dominated space. I watched with growing trepidation as the Earth grew larger and larger as we steamed towards it at full throttle.

    "I don't care what the readings are, Tomura!" Zinnerman barked into his command chair phone. "Keep the reactor at this level until I order otherwise! And that's an order!" He smashed the phone back into place with some force.

    "We're going to need a lot of repairs after this." He told me. I was continuing to hover over his command chair, gripping tightly to the handlebars to keep myself upright as volley after volley of missiles were intercepted. Some of them detonating far too close for comfort.

    "I'll have the finest dry dock cleared out just for you, Zinnerman." I said with complete seriousness. I'd have this ship waxed and buffed until it gleamed like chrome if it got us to the other side of this.

    I silently thanked god that someone had the foresight to fit a ballute system to the Garencieres and promised that if I found them, they would be getting a promotion for their efforts.

    Zinnerman said that the frigate chasing us was an old model, so our only hope in the long run was that the Federation had done the bare minimum to keep the ship up to date with the times. If so, they'd lose track of us in the descent. Then we'd circle around to the other side of the planet in the atmosphere before breaking free of the gravity well and taking another approach at the shoal zone.

    Like a whale going for a dive, that was a comforting way of looking at it.

    Unfortunately for my nerves, I had no role to play in the operation of the Garencieres as we raced towards Earth, dodging missiles as we went. So I stoically stood there and provided an example of courage under fire to the men.

    That's what I told myself I was doing but really I couldn't bear the thought of returning to my quarters and not being able to see what was happening with my own eyes. Really made me feel for the hundred members of the Attack Force who were hunkering in their bunks right now.

    Five minutes ran by in a blur of shouting, flares and missile locks being broken. Then ten minutes.

    Fifteen.

    Twenty.

    Twenty five.

    The earth dominated now. No matter what window I looked out of, I couldn't see the black of space. Instead there was a blue halo surrounding a sphere of rock and water with cloud patterns moving this way and that through the atmosphere.

    What a sight.

    What a terror. Forgotten stories from my early years at school suddenly came back to me. Shuttle crashes upon re-entry could and did happen. It was the second most dangerous part of the journey, and that was with ships designed to return to the planet they came from.

    The Garencieres hadn't even been built with materials from Earth.

    The other thought that dominated my mind was that this was the home of my enemy. The Federation ruled their empire from Earth, commanding the wealth and power of all humanity to benefit themselves and this planet.

    And here I was, their self proclaimed but unacknowledged foe, entering their domain of my own volition. My command staff weren't going to let me out of their sight for the rest of the year when I got back.

    Before I could think further, things went wrong.

    I felt and heard a bang and the Garencieres shook. The trembling forced me to my knees briefly and I winced as my right elbow cracked against the metal.

    "We've been hit! Near the lower engine on the stern. Glancing hit, but a hit." Flaste Schole reported. "Cargo hold is maintaining its integrity and I'm not reading any atmosphere leaks."

    "What happened?" Zinnerman called out.

    "They snuck a missile right behind that barrage. Covered up its heat signature." Alec reported.

    Zinnerman scowled. "They're starting to get smart, so we need to speed this up. Everyone strap in!"

    I jumped to obey the command, fastening myself into a spare chair and locking the guard in place as fast as I could.

    "Flaste!" Zinnerman called out. "Take us in, straight down!"

    "But captain!" The navigator protested.

    "Do as I say!" Zinnerman overruled him. "We dive into the atmosphere then after we're in and leave their sights, we deploy the ballute to bleed momentum. We can't keep going the way we are if they've finally decided to put someone with a brain on the missiles over there."

    There were no more objections from the crew.

    "This is the captain speaking. Prepare for entry into the gravity well. All crewmen are to secure themselves for entry into the gravity well immediately." Zinnerman spoke over the ship's intercoms.

    Then we were diving. I felt the ship reorient itself and then, after crossing an invisible line, the right side of my body started to feel heavier than the rest. Gravity was literally pulling me down into its embrace.

    I quickly rechecked the locks on my restraints and buckles. The pool of icy dread forming in my gut told me this was going to be very unpleasant.

    "Atmosphere entry is a go." Flaste reported. "Five minutes until we hit the stratosphere and then we need to deploy the ballutes."

    "Understood. What is the customs frigate doing?" Zinnerman asked. Alec spat out a curse before answering.

    "Still in pursuit. They're trying to see if we're bluffing!"

    "Well we're not. Keep the course, we're almost there." Zinnerman confidently stated.

    Four minutes later, the bridge erupted into cheers as the customs frigate broke off pursuit, its captain deciding that he wasn't that much of a glory hound.

    A minute later, there was a lurch that threw me and the others against our restraints as the ballute system deployed and the ship was leveled out.

    For a brief moment, it looked like this crazy plan would be pulled off and we'd all be back in the Garden of Thorns, a few days later than planned, boasting about the whole affair over drinks.

    However, when the ballute system was retracted, that hopeful thinking was dashed.

    "I can't level her out." Flaste said calmly. The cheer in the bridge was instantly leached away.

    "Why." Was Zinnerman's instant response.

    "Stern verniers aren't working."

    "Switch to the backups."

    "Already tried, they aren't responding either. That hit did more damage than we thought it did, captain."

    Then, frustratingly, Zinnerman turned to me for orders. I gritted my teeth and went back to being a leader.

    "What's our position?" I asked before following up with a clarification. "What continent are we over."

    "Africa, near the Congo Basin." Zinnerman replied as Flaste focused on the ship.

    I ran over the reports I remembered about remnant activities on Earth. Can't make it back around to Africa. Too many EFF bases between here and Siberia, we'd be intercepted and blown out of the sky.

    There was really only one option.

    "Aim for western Australia." I ordered Zinnerman with confidence I didn't feel. "We still have comrades and support there that can get us what we need to repair the ship and make it back to space."

    Hopefully. Garma Zabi had better cast that long shadow I kept reading about.

    "Understood. Got a place for us to aim for?" Zinnerman asked.

    "Do not land in a city." Was my simple response.

    Complete silence fell over the bridge following that as the few who didn't have anything to do watched at we met the cloud layer and then passed through it to see a blessed sight: a continent we were rapidly approaching with plenty of air to still fall before landfall.

    "Western Australia in sight. I'm going to try to put us down in the outback." Flaste informed.

    "Don't take any risks." Zinnerman told him before going back onto the ship's intercoms.

    "This is the captain speaking. Brace for impact. I repeat, brace for impact."

    ~~~

    Three hours later, I was marveling at the feelings of standing on sand under the weight of natural gravity. What had once been a constant in my life now felt unbelievably unnatural. It wasn't that I couldn't move about just fine like I could on a colony or asteroid but rather there was a feeling about it now.

    Like I subconsciously knew that there was a lack of control now.

    Then there was the heat of the Sun. Nothing the colonies had could compare to feeling the Sun's rays under the many layers of atmosphere, while gazing at the blue sky and far off horizon.

    I heard dry dirt crunching under boots as Zinnerman walked up to me. I looked away from the horizon, down to the sight below.

    Flaste had done a good job in controlling the landing, I'd give him that. The Garencieres had been 'landed' on a flat plain in the outback.

    Damage was minimal and mostly cosmetic, outside of what had been done to the verniers up in space. She was stuck in the trench that had been created in the landing, but Zinnerman's chief engineer Tomura had been confident that all it would take to get the ship out was some mechanical elbow grease.

    We just needed to get that elbow grease.

    "What are the scouts reporting?" I asked.

    "Nothing as far as the eye can see, though it doesn't mean we weren't spotted." Zinnerman cautioned.

    "Right. Have your men focus on getting the mobile suits ready for Earth combat. The attack force company will dig in as well."

    Zinnerman made a noise of agreement. "I'd recommend the scouts look for water next. We have the purifiers to clean it up, just need to find it first."

    And we were already stretching the capacity of the Garencieres to the limit when this had been planned for a short trip.

    "I'll make it their top priority." I looked down and nudged the bulky metal contraption with my boot. "And this works?"

    "It's supposed to." Zinnerman apparently didn't have complete faith in the giant lego brick that had a five foot radio dish and antenna sticking out of it either.

    "Then at least if this doesn't work we can say it was practice." I muttered under my breath before taking one and clicking the walkie talkie receiver on.

    "Attention any and all Zeon forces receiving this message. This is Supreme Commander Full Frontal. My ship has crashed landing following an altercation with Federation Forces and I am in need of assistance. My location and authentication codes are attached to this message to verify my identity. I urge everyone who receives this message to come quickly. We do not know if the Federation is still tracking us. Full Frontal, over and out."


    A/N: Well I hope that was a surprise. Full Frontal and co are -temporarily- Earth side. Wonder what will happen. How will they get back to space. And who will come to their assistance?

    The Lepanto is a Origin specific ship but it seems like just the kind of third line vessel the Federation would have doing 'coast guard esque' operations for them. They are very good at getting the mileage out of everything. Unless its a perfectly good ship/mobile suit that came from Titan stock. In that case its straight to the scrapheap with you so a plucky band of teenagers can salvage you to fight against some 100 years later.


    View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-2Iu0rn5Mo&t=446s&ab_channel=JesusqlYamato

    ^good theme music for this chapter
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Wouldn't an open broadcast blow the cover of the smuggling ship? Or is Neo-Zeon confident enough in their encryption?
     
    FactorySmith said:
    Wouldn't an open broadcast blow the cover of the smuggling ship? Or is Neo-Zeon confident enough in their encryption?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Confident enough in their encryption.

    If they can make a world wide broadcast over their own channels with an open call to attack Torrington and have no shown evidence of the message being intercepted by the Federation, then I'd say they got solid encryption
     
    Ehh you can trust it. No one in UC is good at encrypting coms, monitoring said communications, cyberwarfare in general and I will bet money that most people will just say "Minovsky particles would get in the way so no reason to bother.". And if it isn't that its we don't have the budget to afford someone that can do that.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 26
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 26

    ~~~
    U.C. 0094.6.1
    The Australian Outback
    ~~~

    The sun was a tyrant greater than any mankind had ever produced, I decided, taking another deep drink of water from my canteen. After stowing the canvas wrapped canteen back on my belt, I futilely tugged the brim of the flop hat down to try and give myself more shade. The sun continued to creep high in a cloudless blue sky above.

    I hate the heat. I had in my prior life and it was somehow even worse now. Probably due to having spent all my time in strictly climate controlled environments before this forced detour. So I wasn't having the best of times, standing out here in the red dirt of the western Australian Outback, supervising the work of lifting the Garencieres out of the ditch that our forced landing had put it in.

    I was apparently too high ranking to take part in the menial labor, a fact that every one of my subordinates had been against when I had raised the matter, but I was determined to at least look like I was assisting with the preparations. What were we preparing for exactly?

    Help.

    Because despite having over a hundred people and one semi useful mobile suit(once Tomura and his gang of mechanics finished recalibrating the AMBAC system on the Kshatriya and the two Geara Dogas for gravity operations), you needed way more mechanical power in order to lift a spaceship.

    Luckily for me, I was the man who commanded, in theory, a large and dispersed guerilla movement across the entire Earth who had access to the exact things I needed to escape this oppressively hot ball of dirt and go back to my swanky air conditioned room with its silk sheets and running water, assuming the Remnants would take orders from me.

    Did I mention that I'd never met any of the leaders I had managed to get in contact with over the encryption Zeon channels before now? The nearest of which were taking the direct route to my position and would be arriving by the end of the day? Fun times.

    Assuming, of course, that we all weren't about to be punked by Londo Bell and turned into nice little dust piles from a beam weaponry bombardment.

    I pushed the errant worry to the back of my mind. Earth was large and the Federation's military was sparse following the devastation of the wars against Zeon and its heirs along with the great intercine fighting between the first AEUG and the Titans. Surely if they knew what the Garencieres really was and who was on board it, we never would have been able to approach the shoal zone.

    So, I was still stuck on the dirt until we got enough machine power to lift the Garencieries into a position where the mechanics could see what repairs needed to be made in order to get back in the air and then onto space. I still needed to meet with people I could only claim the obedience of in the vaguest of senses and get them to commit valuable manpower and even more valuable material to getting my ship out its sticky situation with nothing to promise them in return.

    Oh and I didn't have a mobile suit. Sure I could commandeer one of the two Geara Dogas, but that would just put our small force here out a pilot. I would also be less effective than that suit's original pilot due to my unfamiliarity with the small optimizations and customizations that had been made to suit the first pilot's skills.

    Also felt like a dick move to be honest.

    I looked away from the horizon and checked the time on my wristwatch. It was getting close to the arranged meeting time. Then the buzz of the radio appeared, the outlooks had sighted the dust plumes of our allies' approach.

    Showtime.

    ~~~

    We greeted our guests under the shade of a tarp, thank God, where the shade was not as hot as the naked sun. Someone had found a few folding chairs for everyone of rank to sit on and three circular metal tables to hold refreshments.

    Refreshments in this case being half a glass of water each. Truly we were the embodiment of refinement.

    All who gathered under the tarp were wearing variations of the same uniform but that surface level similarity did nothing to hide the divisions among our ranks. My men wore the newest and cleanest uniforms, smart olive green with gold trim up the torso and buttons. I wore my red double-breasted jacket with its gold trim and high collar -I was baking underneath it- and Marida was wearing a similar jacket with a light purple color.

    A move closer to what I remembered her wearing in two years, though it still had sleeves.

    Zinnerman had set aside his trenchcoat and green sweater, or else he would have dropped from heatstroke, and was wearing a set of off white khaki uniform.

    Our opposites were an eclectic bunch. Two of the groups were dressed in threadbare and patched uniforms from the Principality, greens and tans. Some had taken away the sleeves of their uniforms while others had scarves and headdresses on.

    The other group had uniforms that were only worn instead of threadbare with black and gold being the dominant color among them, along with a majority of the vests that had clearly been issued as vests instead of being modified into them. Clearly they had originated from Axis during the first Neo Zeon war.

    And we were all clearly taking in the sight of each other. I wonder what they thought of the mobile suits off in the distance, could they see the line of descent from their own suits?

    I made the first move, figuring that since I had called them here I had the duty to be a good host.

    "Greetings from the forces of Zeon in space comrades." I stepped forward and waved at the water. "While I have only been Earthside for a short while, I'm sure being able to wash the dust from your mouths before we start discussions would be welcomed."

    Zinnerman had suggested it to me, citing 'desert hospitality' that he had picked up while he had been deployed in Africa during the One Year War.

    My words brought the leaders of the three parties out of their silent observation. They stiffened to attention, saluting me before turning and ordering their soldiers to drink before them. We three sipped at our glasses after I motioned to one of the guards to bring enough water for their counterparts.

    "Now that we're all refreshed, I believe introductions are in order." I said. "I am Full Frontal, Supreme Commander of Zeon. This is Captain Suberoa Zinnermand of the Garencieres and Lieutenant Marida Cruz, pilot of the quad wing. My thanks for responding so promptly to our communications."

    A bit of a fib for my title as it currently stood

    One of the three leaders nodded and spoke. "Of course, we are always interested in aiding our comrades in space." The man pointed to himself. "Major Yonem Kirks, commander of the Simbu Base Corps."

    Ah so there he was, the Zaku sniper himself. He looked as I expected him to look: tanned skin, slicked back black hair and a full chin puff goatee. Kirks was dressed in the same threadbare olive green uniform from the One Year War as the rest of his group, which was also the largest of the three Remnant bands who had been close enough to answer my message.

    So Simbu Base was probably close by.

    "A pleasure Major Kirks."

    "Pshah." The other man dressed in a principality uniform snorted. "Our pleasure, or yours?"

    He had a wild look about him, a fully grown and untrimmed beard and a shock of long hair that stood up every which way from his head. He too was tanned like Kirks, but I judged that to not be his natural coloring due to the tan lines around his neck.

    "I don't take your meaning…" I trailed off.

    "Captain Graw, Fourth Terrestrial Mobile Division." He introduced himself through pursed lips. "What I mean is that it certainly is convenient that you are always in need of something whenever we meet."

    "Is it not the nature of comrades to offer each other aid when in need?"

    He sneered. "You lot always seem to be in more need than we are. Always taking and never giving back so the fight could continue down here."

    "Oh really?" The third man, the one dressed in the black and gold BDU from Axis, interjected. "I seem to remember you being awfully happy to accept the Capules we offered you in eighty-nine, Graw."

    "Shut the fuck up Jamico." Graw leaned towards the younger man. "Your asteroid masters are back now so why don't you fall back in line like a good little toy soldier and leave to real fighting to men like me and Kirks."

    Jamico, clean shaven and with a military crew cut after all these years on Earth, bristled at Graw's condensation.

    "Graw!" Kirks barked. "We're all on the same side here."

    Graw seemed to settle down at Kirks words though everyone could tell that his choler was still up.

    "Major Kirks speaks the truth." I spoke. "Captain Graw also speaks the truth."

    I leaned forward, putting my elbows on the circular metal table.

    "We are in need of your help. Our ship was forced to make an Earth descent after being intercepted by a Federation customs ship. We did so in order to not lead the Federation back towards our main base. As you can see, we were able to land in one piece. However we need to unearth our ship and take stock of her condition."

    I pointed at the three Remnant band leaders.

    "This is why I reached out to you. I understand that mobile suits are precious resources for all of us, but we need your help in order to unearth the Garencieres and return to space before Federation forces come looking for us."

    Jamico with his Axis uniform spoke up first. "My men and I stand ready to assist you in whatever manner is needed, sir."

    "Speak for yourself Yular." Surprisingly it was Kirks who said those words. He stared at me with intense focus on his dark eyes. "Everytime we move in force we are taking the risk of annihilation by the federals. You are right, we can assist you in unearthing your ship. But we don't have machinery capable of doing it so we'd have to use our mobile suits and hovercraft in order to do it. That much movement by even our three groups will have the EFF buzzing around like hornets who just had their nest punt kicked. We need something more than 'helping the fight' to give to our men in order for them to commit to this move."

    Not the words I was hoping to hear from the man who would, in another time and place, orchestrate the punitive raid on Dakar itself with nothing more than three mobile suits and one experimental mobile armor. Then again that was two years in the future in different circumstances and different people.

    Certainly Zinnerman and Marida weren't the people they could become during the Hunt for Laplace's box and hopefully they wouldn't as I was rather invested in not having a crucial part of my faction turn against me. I also like them personally so double the investment on my end.

    "Your concerns are completely reasonable, Major Kirks. I would have them myself if I was in your place." I spread my hands in a conciliatory manner. "Allow me to alleviate them. What can your comrades assist you with in return for your assistance? We are all fighting the same war with the same enemy."

    "Har!" Captain Graw slapped his knee in turn with his laughter. "Unless you have a dozen spare mobile suits crammed in that ship of yours that you'd be willing to give away or spare parts for a dozen different models, I doubt there is much you can offer us."

    Even Jamico, who looked to be my strongest supporter of this group, looked to be swayed by Graw's words, which I completely understood as I had to deal with the same concerns as they did. Where to commit valuable war material in the manner that would benefit our struggle. War material that you never had a surplus of.

    Only the Federation had the luxury of always having its depots and coffers full in the ongoing struggle.

    I paused, thinking back on my thoughts. Only the Federation had a consistent surplus.

    "You are right Captain Graw, I do not have what you are looking for, though I wish I did." I spoke, then put my thoughts to words. "However I know exactly who does."

    "But firstly, are any of your groups based in Australia itself?" I asked.

    "My boys are." Graw informed. "Northern coast for the most part. Simbu Base is up in Indonesia and Jamico's men are in a crashed ship up in Indochina's mountains."

    "It's actually New Guinea, but we operate on other islands." Kirks expanded on Graw's statement. Jamico merely nodded in confirmation.

    "And the strength of the EFF in Australia is lackluster compared to regions such as Europe and the Americas?"

    "That has been the case since the seventy-nine." Kirks said again.

    I grinned. "Then I know the perfect place to get the supplies and mobile suits you need."

    Because if Torrington Base is backwater enough for the Federation Forces to still station Titan suits as part of its mobile suit corps, then why wouldn't they do the same for the rest of the continent?

    Everyone cottoned onto the statement quickly.

    "You want us to pilot feddie suits?" Kirks asked incredulously.

    "Only the good ones." Jamico chimed in before addressing me. "My unit uses several Marasais we liberated during our Earth Descent Operation. We wouldn't be able to find any better ground use mobile suits that we could maintain."

    "Assuming we don't destroy them in the fighting." Zinnerman groused, speaking for the first time. Marida nodded in support of her "master's" words.

    "The feddies don't like to use Titan suits." Captain Graw said. "Even when we've raided them, they haven't scrambled anything newer than a GM II. Even though they had six Hizacks in their hanger they could have used them against us!" He shook his head in bemusement at the seeming stupidity of the Federation Forces.

    I knew the situation was more complicated than how Graw and Jamico laid it out to be, thanks to the reports saved on Char's tablet and other sources of information Nanai and Hill Dawson had shared with me. The Federation Forces had to balance public opinion in the wake of the Gryps War and the need to keep their mobile suit strength high in the face of Neo Zeon and the contolist terrorist groups of the early 0090s. So they kept select Titan suits onboard but kept them well out of sight.

    Mothballed in effect but mothballed didn't mean inoperational.

    "It would benefit our raiding if we could obtain more Zaku Mariners." Kirks openly mused, scratching his chin beard.

    I addressed Captain Graw. "I assume you know the locations of the local EFF bases in the outback?"

    He grinned savagely at me, a malicious light glinting in his eyes. "Of course we do."

    "And we have the instruments on the Garencieres needed to scout them once she's airborne and the ability to broadcast more minovsky particles than your mobile suits could. We'd be able to seal them off from the outside world and attack at our leisure."

    Even stern Kirks was smiling slightly now. "They'd know where we attacked but nothing else. Until we hit the next target."

    "It would have to be a blitzkrieg strategy." Zinnerman warned. "If we get caught on just one that proves to be a hard nut to crack then the feddies would be swarming us within the day."

    "So we chose our targets carefully. The ones that are the most isolated. Does the Garencieres need any special equipment to return to space once we have her airborne?" I said to Zinnerman. He groused in his thoughts before responding.

    "I'd prefer a booster but it's not needed." I smiled.

    "Then it looks like our course is set gentlemen. Now let's get down to business."

    What followed was a back and forth discussion on who, what, where and when our attacks on the choicest Federation bases in Australia would occur. Despite the nagging remarks the three men liked to direct at each other, they already had a working relationship. I was able to insert myself and Zinnerman quickly into the existing comradery.

    Being the people who can provide modern mobile suit support and superior overwatch for the first time in over a decade does have its advantages in getting you in people's good books. And they were kind enough to loan us a water extraction machine so we all didn't die of thirst.

    It would take four days for Captain Graw's people to identify the bases they believed to have concentrations of mobile suits, and were sufficiently undermanned, to put on our hit list. This would be done with the assistance of local anti-Federation guerillas that Graw had good relations with from the old days.

    Seven days for Kirks and Jamico to rally their warbands and relocate to the outback while dodging Federation patrols. On day five the Garencieres would be unearthed. Day seven she would be put back in the air. Day eight our forces would be reunited and on the start of day nine the offensive would begin.

    The plan ended on Day Fourteen when we'd disperse on the shores of Australia's northern coast. My contingent headed back up into space while the remnants went back to their areas, better armed and motivated to obey my commands in the upcoming war.

    That was the real stickler, they needed to be ready and willing to do what I commanded them to do when the time came. Because I was going to have to return to this part of the world in two years to unlock as part of the Laplace Hunt. And that would be all the more easier with ground support to call on.

    Then there was the other matter, which Zinnerman stated after we had broken the planning session for dinner.

    "This seems like a lot of additional work for the same result in the end." He told me while we ate in the cool shadow cast by the Garencieres' bulk.

    I shrugged and chewed before responding. "Maybe but this has become more important for our long term goals."

    "How so?" Zinnerman asked. I did some more chewing before responding.

    "Because I need them to obey me when the time comes. When the actual war breaks out." I clarified.

    "Having the AEUG supporting Neo Zeon is needed but we'd be fools to ignore the dozens of guerilla bands that are scattered across the Earth, hidden in out of the way places. All them seething with the wounds and anger of lost wars. All of them itching to get back at the Federation in any way, big and small, that they can manage."

    "Now they'd be irritants to the Federation if left to their own devices but I don't need irritants who launch their own uncoordinated attacks in response to our actions like what happened after Left Hook." Those had been great for spooking the Federation even further but those groups who hadn't been able to retreat and hide in time had gotten smacked down hard. The most irritating part was that there clearly hadn't' been any goal besides a desire to kill a few feddies in most of the attacks.

    "And the plan to get them onboard is to…fight with them a few times?" Zinnerman said skeptically. He had the broad idea but didn't understand.

    "The plan is for me to lead them in a unified manner they haven't experienced in years to a string of victories they haven't lived in years." I took another bite of the beef stew that was for dinner today. "It's what I did to assume leadership of Neo Zeon when the Federation was closing in in 0093. Now I'm going to repeat the process with these stranded comrades on Earth so that when I leave, they will feel once again that they are part of a larger struggle."

    I used my spoon to gesture at the horizon. "I don't need a dozen irritants that are wiped out in turn by the EFF for my war. I need a hidden fist lurking in the shadows of this planet, all of them ready, willing and able to emerge as a steel fist when called up to give the Federation a nice liver shot while they are fighting it out with us in space. I need a second front ready to be opened when I give the command."

    I looked at Zinnerman. "You spent time on Earth after the war ended. Can you honestly say that they wouldn't continue on fighting small battles with the Federation until they couldn't maintain their suits any more or died of old age if left to their own devices?"

    "No." was the eventual reply.

    "So I'm going to perform the same miracle I did for Char's men again. Victory from the jaws of inevitable defeat and by the end of this little lightning war, Suberoa, Zeon's going to have an earthside army again."

    "Sieg Zeon." Zinnerman said dryly. He looked happy and I wondered if he was thinking of his long sought revenge for a lost family. Good, I needed him to be engaged in the fight, not just going through the motions. That is how a spunky gundam pilot gets you to defect.

    We didn't talk about our reasons for fighting, Zinnerman and I. Wasn't the kind of people we were. We worked together just fine without them. Still I made sure to have these kinda affirmative talks about the fight with him when the opportunity presented itself.

    "Sieg Zeon, indeed." I noticed we had both finished our stew. "Now let's go get Hill and Nanai on the horn, and let them know about the change of plans."

    A/N - So the Remnants get involved in the plot, as I had always intended them to be. One of the gripes I had while watching Unicorn was that while the Remnants certainly seem to have respected Full Frontal as a ranking officer in control of the zeon space forces, the relationship seems to be like that of respect towards a different theater of the conflict who didn't have direct command over them. A relationship that canon Frontal seems to have encouraged.

    So that was something I wanted to change for this story, because being able to coordinate attacks against the Federation and include earth remnants in the overall plan is what has historically given success to Zeon like in the Delaz Conflict. And we see Frontal's first moves to make that happen in this chapter. Next chapter will be the Outback Blitzkrieg and all the fun older suits I get to play with in the action setpieces.
     
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    • Another nice plan from Full Frontal. It was mentioned that some of the groups took part in "raiding" which I hopefully assumed was targeted at Federation military bases and not civilians. If some of them are targeting and/or exhorting civilians, he should try to make them stop as soon as possible. It generates bad PR, and Earth has a bunch of militias who strongly dislike the Federation and could serve as possible allies.
     
    Ah one of the things about the universal century was how how earth rather empty always found that bit of lore nuts the federation kicked most of mankind in to space… seeming it never really clear but we rarely see major city's with millions of people on earth. Thanks for the chapter.
     
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    Chapter 27
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    • Chapter 27

    ~~~
    U.C. 0094.6.10 0330 Australian Western Standard Time
    The Australian Outback
    ~~~

    The Garencieres was back in the air, and I had never been so happy to be back aboard this vessel.

    Air conditioning! My beloved.

    Now all I needed was a mobile suit and I would be good.

    Unfortunately the Garden of Thorns couldn't ship my Geara Doga down from space but they had been able to tight beam my paperwork down to me along with the schedule for the daily meetings.

    An outback vacation, I was not on.

    But still, the earthside operation had progressed according to plan. Captain Graw, who was a craggy old bastard regardless of the time of day it seemed, had put his guerilla contacts to work in poking the local garrisons. They even had people in the base staff like custodians and cooks who would pass on discrete copies of reports if the pay was high enough.

    Our first target was the nearby Ayers Rock Base, basically due east of the Garencieres landing site. Then we'd hit the Alice Springs Stationing Base which was two dozen kilometers north of the Ayers Rock base. Following that our convoy of raiders would hoof it across the width of the outback to smack the EFF Mount Isa base before wrapping the operation up with the grand finale at the EFN Darwin Base.

    An ambitious program of looting and destruction. But we hopefully had just the right group assembled to take it on.

    Like a warmongering version of the Avengers.

    Major Yonem Kirks had brought two Fat Uncle type transports down from the jungles of New Guinea to assist with the unearthing of the Garencieres along with his personal Zaku I Sniper model. The rest of the Simbu Base Corps would be going perfunctory shipping raids to get the feds spooked up near the Philippines. They would join the column for the final push into Darwin. Otherwise the aquatic mobile suits they fielded would be more of a detriment than an assist during the campaign.

    His reward for helping me would be a slate of Zaku Mariners the feddies had stationed at that Darwin Base. I would be getting Kirks exceptional sniper skills for aerial support.

    Lieutenant Yular Jamico, true to his words of complete support during our first meeting, had put his entire command into this operation. Three Marasais, one Zaku II Cannon, one Gallus-J type, Jamico's personal machine, one Zaku FZ type, and one Gallus-K type. Along with Jamico's mobile suits came a variety of Dodai's and Dodai Kais to allow the mobile suits subflight capability.

    Captain Graw rounded out the Remnants detachment with a Desert Zaku, a Dom Tropen variant and a Dwadge. Graw piloted a rare Desert Gelgoog. Graw's command was the most mobile on the ground thanks to the jet engines installed in the legs of his four mobile suits.

    And then there were my forces. One light shipping cruiser that had been converted to military use and its crew. Seventy-eight soldiers under the command of First Lieutenant Yokon Fenwick, himself ironically a native of Sweetwater who had never been to Earth before now. Two Geara Dogas, piloted by members of Zinnerman's crew and one funnel equipped Khsatriya, piloted by Marida Cruz.

    I paused my train of thought and went back over what the forces I had counted off.

    Yeah, anyone we came up against were pretty fucked, weren't they?

    But it would have to be just one group, otherwise we'd shortly be the ones being fucked instead of doing the fucking. I'd inspected the mobile suits as they trickled in, and most of them were ancient by the standards of mobile suits. The Principality era suits were made up of the woefully obsolete steel alloy that had proven to be little more than paper when providing protection against handheld beam weaponry. The rest of the suits were made of various types of Gundarium alloy and were more maneuverable, however their beam resistant coating(if they had it to begin with) had degraded from the years of fighting and exposure.

    "Time?" I called out to the bridge.

    "Two minutes until we're in sight of the base." Flaste Schole answered from his station on the ship's sensors.

    The worst part was still that I had no opportunity to be in the thick of the fighting. At least that way I could draw the enemy fire and limit casualties that way. However I had never fought on earth before, all of my engagements had been in zero g environments. I also still didn't have a mobile suit to use.

    "Thirty seconds." Flaste made the final announcement.

    Those layabout feds had better have something decent for me to loot. I was not made to be sitting around away from the fighting. Was this incessant itching sensation in my palms something Char had during his life. A continual call to action?

    "Being the operation." I said for formality's sake. Zinnerman followed up my words with his own commands.

    "Marida, hit them with your funnels. Tomura, bring the reactor up to combat levels and begin broadcasting minovsky particles. Gilboa! Get us over the middle of that base. Mobile suits to the port and starboard doors, fire when able!"

    The two Geara Dogas were still in the Garencieres hangar but Marida and her Kshatriya? Those two were standing atop the Garencieres like a knight of old atop his warhorse, armed and ready for the charge.

    I could see the structures of the Ayers Rock Base now. Squat office buildings and primitive hangars blocked in by a ring of rectangles that I took to be barracks, along with a double barbed wire fence.

    I felt the Garencieres accelerate and then sensed a vague pressure above me. Then the darkness of the night sky was broken by twenty-four beams erupting into cerulean existence, piercing down into structures with deadly energy.

    Then the funnels fired again and explosions started to rippled out from buildings like boils being burst. A wailing siren started up but was choked off by another funnel barrage.

    "Their patrols are turning to face us." Flaste Schole warned. Zinnerman looked over at me.

    "Send in the mobile suits, have Lieutenant Cruz focus on destroying their wider communication ability." I gave the engagement order.

    Dark shadows soared past the side windows, illuminated only by the light of their engines. I knew on the ground that Captain Graw's mobile suits would be blasting through the perimeter and racing towards the base's hangars to cut off any mobile suit sorties.

    "Minovsky particle saturation?" I called out.

    "High enough that we should be severely dampening their long range communications." Flaste Schole answered.

    "Then bring us in." Out ahead I could see Dodais making dive bomb attacks into the base, bazookas and beam weaponry barking into vulnerable buildings. We weren't unopposed, return beam fire arced up from the group and tracer rounds were starting to light up the night.

    I scanned the now burning base. We needed the armory, fuel depot, machine shop and mobile suit hangers intact. Nothing else was required.

    "Lieutenant Cruz." I called on the ship's comms.

    "Yes." Came Marida's monotone reply, her telling sign that her mind was immersed in combat. For some reason I was suddenly and uncomfortably reminded about her young age. It was a nonsense thought, she was a seasoned soldier and could be depended on.

    "I don't want to see that base HQ anymore. After that, focus on eliminating any rallying groups of resistance."

    "Understood."

    A spider web of beams then bisected the tall HQ building from every conceivable angle. Then I could see the concrete begin to tremble in the fire light. Then explosions wracked its internals and with a groan that I could hear through the bulkheads, the building came tumbling down.

    Marida continued with her overwatch work, blue funnel lights hitting all parts of the base sporadically as she identified locations where companies and MS squads were making stands, and assisting the circling mobile suits in wiping them out. I could see on the ground that Captain Graw was tearing a trench of destruction through the low lying barracks. Following in his wake would be an eclectic collection of hover trucks that carried Lieutenant Fenwick's company.

    It wasn't smooth sailing on our part, however. Gilboa Sant was feeding Zinnerman reports that the Garencieres was getting pinged by machine gun fire and that the escorting Geara Dogas had made three missile intercepts.

    A miniature sun erupted off to the ship's right. A Dodai and its mobile suit had been hit.

    A thick beam returned the favor from on high, Kirks' work I figured.

    Still we had the element of surprise and aerial supremacy, after another twenty minutes of fighting, the battered Federation soldiers broadcasted their surrender over the local airwaves.

    I was happy to be able to accept a surrender for once.

    ~~~

    Active resistance was over but we were moving quicker now than we had been during the fighting. I had hopped side saddle into a Geara Doga who had transferred from the Garencieres to guard the mass of soot stained humanity who had surrendered to us, me really.

    It was almost as hot as the day would be. I realized the fires were starting to merge together, as long as it stayed away from our efforts then we didn't need to waste energy containing it.

    The crunch of boots on glass grabbed my attention. It was Fenwick.

    "Sir." He said, not saluting in respect to the environment. I didn't think that the prisoners needed the hint to figure out that I was in command, the stares burrowing into the back of my head did that just fine.

    "Lieutenant. Butcher's bill?" I asked

    "Minor injuries on our end, sir. Armor held up well. Saw that one of our mobile suits bit the dust up in the air, so there is that." He shrugged indifferently. "A Dom type took a rocket to its jets, still looked mobile to me."

    "Very well." I accepted the truncated report. "Put a squad on prisoner watch then get over to the armory and start loading up the trucks, after that you do the fuel depot. Captain Graw's men have the machine shop and hangers."

    "Understood sir." He turned and began barking at his sergeants.

    Jamico had given me a fuller report that Fenwick had been able to. The mobile suit lost was one of his, the FZ type Zaku and he told me that it was the Desert Zaku who had taken the rocket to its left jet engine. It could be fixed quickly if the leg armor had done its job.

    I flagged down a newly commandeered jeep, intending to take stock of the haul at the hangers but was halted by a call for my attention.

    "Wait!" A female voice shouted. I spun about, hand resting on the butt of my pistol. A woman in nurse fatigues ran up to me. "The wounded need tending."

    I looked around the kneeling mass of prisoners and saw doctors and nurses in white scuttling among them.

    "It looks like they are already receiving medical treatment."

    She winced and glared up at me. "We need more equipment and your fires are cutting us off from the clinic."

    "Is that so?"

    She was a fiery one, this nurse. "Yes. You need to have your men clear a path so that we can.."

    "I will be doing nothing and neither will my men." I quickly cut her off. "Do not mistake your situation, woman. You are being allowed to treat the prisoners as a decency requires. My men are doing their jobs, so go back to doing yours."

    She opened her mouth to try again but a pointed finger cut her off.

    "This is not a request, doctor, and I am not a patient man."

    Finally the woman got the hint and jogged back to the prisoners. I stamped down on the urge to grimace at my actions. It didn't sit well with a part of me.

    But the men were watching.

    Over to the hangers then.

    ~~~

    The hangers were a set of matching trios tucked on either side of a runway on the base's western side. They were wide and spacious and all six of them were absolutely stuffed with mobile suits and mobile suit accessories.

    I looked to the south and saw small groups running around the fuel depot, jamming hoses into tankers and starting the siphoning process. The methods my remnants were using undoubtedly violated every type of workplace safety standards for that type of work, but it was fast and we really needed to be fast. A squawking report on the radio, the channels still thick with the minovsky particle interference discharged by the overhead Garencieres, informed that hover trucks had been seized along with haulers needed to transport our looted mobile suit.

    Captain Graw's sand colored quartet of mobile suits stood guard over the hangers area. I couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of prisoners. Graw came off as a bitter and hostile man, I could only hope that the prisoners who had surrendered here had already been taken to the main square where the rest of their kind was being kept.

    I singled out a man upon arriving. He wasn't one of my soldiers. "You there, what's the status here?"

    The remnant sketched a quick salute. "Found what we're looking for at hangar five. One through four are the current feddie suits and six looks to be storage."

    He hawked a glob of spit into the asphalt. I assumed he was showing his general disgust for the federation instead of disrespect towards me.

    "Very well. I'll head over there now. Start putting the charges on the feddie suits then head over to help strip storage." I ordered before running towards hangar five. Time was of the essence and I couldn't be bothered with stupid decorum right now.

    I ran up to Hangar Five and darted into its open doors. I found Captain Graw, along with other members of his unit, consulting the resting giants that towered above us. Even a glancing assessment of the hanger and its occupants showed that, thankfully, I had been right in my guess that backwater bases like this still had Titans sourced mobile suits on them.

    "Ah, Frontal." Captain Graw managed to see me first. "Clean up going well?"

    "Yes, we're looting the armory, machine shop and fuel depot as we speak." I looked at my wristwatch. "We're within our operating time too."

    Graw grunted. "How long do we have left."

    "Two hours, captain." One of his own men replied.

    He was right, it had been around thirty minutes from the start of the operation. We needed to be on the move by oh-seven-hundred in order to strike at the next E.F.F base before they got an idea about our attack on their neighbor.

    "Captain Zinnerman is on overwatch duty, so we'll know if we have incoming company." I walked up to Graw and clapped him on his shoulder. "Now tell me what you've found."

    Graw and myself may not have the best of relationships. Out of the three remnant groups I had called to my side, he was the most clear that he was in it for the loot and the fighting that my plan could offer him. Perfectly fine in my books, if a bit frustrating to work around.

    However we managed to be in synch on the subject of mobile suits

    "Three Marasais, two of them operational and the third looks to have been used as a training target. The two operational ones need to have their weapons swapped back in and relinked. One Barzam that looks mostly fine." He pointed at the towering blue and black mobile suit with its curious head fin. "I think that's a mount for a vulcan pod, just need to find it."

    In the corners of the hanger I could see the blasted remains of Hizacks, which seemed to have suffered the fate of being targets during live fire drills.

    "Then we have this beaut."

    In the middle of the hanger was a very familiar mobile suit. Its head and shoulders were covered in almost semi circle shaped armor, lending it a similarity to a crustacean. A Dom inspired mount sheltered the suit's green monoeye. The locals had given it a new paint scheme, gray for the upper part of the suit in place of the orange I remembered and sky blue replacing the dark green. Next to the resting mobile suit laid a near rectangular beam rifle and scattered around the plinth the mobile suit was resting vertically on were the dismantled parts of another of its kind, clearly cannibalized for spare parts to keep this mobile suit operation.

    I notice still full mugs of coffee around the feet of the mobile suit. "Looks like they were just working on this one."

    Graw guffawed at my words. "Yeah the damn feddies ran around like chickens with their heads cut off when we arrived. Scum were so scared they didn't even try to sortie in more mobile suits."

    I then made what I like to call a 'I'm the Supreme Commander and I can do what I want' type of decision.

    "Do you have the manual for it?" I asked.

    Captain Graw looked at me curiously. "Somewhere around here. Why?"

    "Because I'm short a mobile suit, captain, and it is my preference to lead from the front." I smiled tightly at him. "Besides, I can't let you have all the fun, now can I?"

    Graw guffawed again. "Heh, we do need all the pilots we can muster for this operation. But I can't spare the men to help you fuel it." One of his men tossed him a thick stack of laminated paper bound together with three metal rings. Graw then handed it to.

    "I'm a quick study captain. Now get the mobile suits we're taking out of here and onto the flatbeds, then loot that supply hanger of all its worth." As the impromptu huddle dispersed, another report came over the radio: The armory had been looted of all its worth and those squads were moving onto the fuel depot.

    We were on pace for the moment.

    "Okay then, let's get you back in the fight." I said to the inert mobile suit. NRX-044 Asshimar, I couldn't wait to see what it could do in my hands.

    ~~~

    We departed Ayers Rock at 0724 Australian Western Standard Time. Our departure was heralded by the detonation of the explosive charges we had littered over the various GM types and the fuel we couldn't take from the depot's tanks. The mushroom cloud looked very pretty in the morning sky.

    The captured loot diverted from the main force soon afterwards, the captured mobile suits, fuel and weapons racing towards hiding points that Graw's unit had set up in the outback. From there they would be funneled to Graw's outposts in Australia. That was the deal to get the weathered bastard on board. The loot from the next two bases would go to Jamico and the loot at Darwin would belong to Kirks.

    We would be at Alice Springs in under thirty minutes. With the advantage of the panoramic cockpit I was seated in, I could see Jamico's mobile suits buzzing around the Garencieres on their Dodais and Base Jabbers. Kirks' two Fat Uncles were higher up in the clouds, providing overwatch.

    I looked down at the manual on my lap.

    "Okay and then this should finish the calibrations and we'd be good to go." I muttered to myself, reaching forward to tap the start up buttons on the console.

    "Hopefully."

    But I had plenty of cause to smile as my Asshimar came online with all systems showing green. I quickly went through one final check of systems before going to familiarize myself with the controls. Pedals were the same as my Geara Doga but it took a few minutes for me to become comfortable with the joystick controls of the Asshimar.

    It was smooth going, despite my small reservations. As long as I strictly focused my mind on figuring out how to work the Asshimar, I could feel things coming easier to me. I could make connections faster and by the time we were ten minutes out from Alice Springs, this inner feeling was telling me that I could fly this mobile suit into combat with ease.

    I linked into the Garencieres through the suit's direct link.

    "Any sign of pursuit?" I asked Zinnerman.

    "No. But the Federation will be onto us after this next base, there's going to be no night to disguise our attack." Zinnerman replied.

    "No matter, the nearest base is three hours away. But let's hold the Garencieres back until we've eliminated resistance this time." I said. It would be bad if my ride back to space got shot down.

    "So you're going in with the attack this time?" He asked.

    "Yep, I'm taking Marida as well, this one does need to be done quick."

    "You're right about that, I'll find a Dodai for her to ride on." Zinnerman tapped into a different channel and I saw the Gallus-J type move to come alongside the ship. In a quick maneuver, the Kshatriya and the Gallus-J switched positions.
    "See you on the other side Zinnerman, you have overall command." I cut the line after hearing Zinnerman's confirmation.

    Then I did something that would normally be considered very stupid: I hurled my mobile suit off the side of the Garencieres.

    But with a press of the pedals, I wasn't plummeting to the ground so much as falling with control and style.

    I grinned, well the engines were working. Time for the real test.

    I grabbed the small lever to my left side and pulled it back towards me. Then I heard the turn of gears and the shifting of metal around my cockpit and I was pushed back into the linear seat as the mobile suit accelerated forward.

    A notification on the panoramic cockpit informed me that the suit had entered mobile armor mode and that the connection with the beam rifle had been made.

    That was weapons handled, I quickly flipped back to mobile suit form and into the mobile armor mode to make sure the mechanism was holding up, which it thankfully was.

    I flew ahead of the Garencieres and opened up the general comm channel. "Full Frontal speaking, all units assume attack formation on me. We strike the base in seven minutes. Let's make the feddies really feel it this time!"

    Shouts and battle cries answered my words and the collection of mobile suits flew into formation. I rolled my shoulders to loosen the tension in them.

    It felt great to be back in the pilot's seat, I thought. Now it was time to go to work.

    If the first base was any indication, everything was going to go according to plan.

    A/N: Of course it will, Full Frontal, of course it will.

    Gotta thank Gundam Evolution again for giving me the idea to have FF in an Asshimar for the upcoming chapter. The paint job, in case the text description of it was confusing, is gray in place of the orange and sky blue in place of the green.

    Since it's a long weekend here in the States, I'm tentatively hoping to have the next chapter done this weekend.
     
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