A Full Frontal Assault: A Gundam Unicorn SI
- Thread starter BalerionTheDrake
- Start date
Chapter 28
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Chapter 28
~~~U.C. 0094.6.12 1540 Australian Western Standard Time
The Australian Outback, south of Darwin
~~~
The plan was not going according to plan.
Which I should have seen coming, honestly, but luckily the plan had been modified. So the original plan had not gone according to plan but the back up plan was going according to plan. That sounded better, I told myself as I dodged incoming fire from a GM III by throwing my Asshimar into a barrel roll,
Warning alerts chimed in my ears from the incoming fire, but I pushed them to the side and fired at the Base Jabber the GM III was standing on right after the end of my roll. The beam lanced through the metal structure, and the GM III suddenly veered to the side as the flight systems began to fail. To the pilot's credit, they squeezed out another volley at me.
I swerved wide to avoid the fire and then rushed in, flipping the transformation switch and transforming into the mobile suit configuration. Another press of a button on the left joystick slid a beam saber into my suit's left hand.
I faked the GM III out with a stab from my beam saber and took advantage of the gap in his defenses made by the movement of his shield to core his mobile suit with a beam shot.
Brinngt!
Behind! I fired the right side thrusters and swung around, bringing my beam saber up defensively, guided by nothing more than mental instinct just in time to block a downward chop from a Nemo. The kinetic force of the Nemo pushed our saber lock against me and I could feel my mobile suit start to dip downs towards the dirt as my engines couldn't handle the additional pressure.
Luckily, I had a free hand. The muzzle of my beam rifle clanged against the cockpit hatch of the Nemo before barking twice. I disengaged my beam saber and flew straight down to avoid the reactor detonation. As I fell, I took the time to blow up the Dodai Kai the Nemo had jumped from before switching back to mobile armor mode and flying back up into the melee that swirled in the cloudless sky above.
But before I had time to do more than give out a few near misses, the Federation sub flightcraft disengaged and flew away to the north.
I transformed the Asshimar back into suit mode and hovered in the air, letting my sensors confirm that this wasn't a feint.
"This is Full Frontal, status report!" I called out over our comm channels. Time to see what the butcher's bill was.
"Graw here, the ground attack was destroyed. Dumb fools thought tanks would be a threat to us." The Australian based Remnant leader reported first. "No vehicle or mobile suit lost on my end."
"Lieutenant Jamico, sir. Some battered suits and arms that need replacing on my end but no casualties." Jamico was underplaying the wounds in his force. From my vantage point I could see that his Gallus-K was missing an arm and Jamico's personal machine had a pocket mark of beam residue on its chest.
Zinnerman and Kirks were last to report in, fitting as they were the rear guard. Luckily the feddies hadn't breached our screen, so they hadn't been under fire.
Still I judged the damage to be significant enough to warrant field repairs.
"Jamico have some of your men scout ahead to make sure the Federation forces aren't coming back around. Everyone else: descend to the ground and begin refueling and resupplying." I flew over to Jamico and established a direct link with his mobile suit. "Lieutenant, take your damage suits over to the Garencieres for repairs."
"That's hardly necessary sir, Riker's suit needs the repairs more than I do." Jamico protested.
"I need everyone at their best for the push into Darwin, Yular." I told him, looking into his eyes through the direct link video. "And your men need you to be at your best as well. That's an order,"
He sighed in acceptance. "Understood sir." I watched his Dodai Kai and the one the Gallus-K was on fly back towards the Garencieres. We had some salvaged Marasai arms that Tomura should be able to put onto the Gallus-K that would allow it to fire a beam rifle.
With that, I floated down to the ground and thumped onto the broken asphalt of the highway. Powering down the mobile suit, I took a deep breath and chugged from my water bottle.
Bleh, lukewarm.
Popping the cockpit hatch, I walked out into the Australian sun, putting on the aviators I had picked up at Alice Springs to shield my eyes from the sun. I was grateful to not be wearing a normal suit, having elected to wear my usual uniform with an alternate sleeveless red and gold vest that I had commissioned from the commissary.
"Lieutenant Fenwick!" I called down to the ranking groundpounder.
"Sir!" The reedy man saluted.
"Status?"
"I'm at sixty-six effectives sir, seven casualties in this last engagement. Those that are wounded are being treated."
"Good, once they're stabilized, send them up to the Garencieres." I ordered.
"Understood sir." Then Fenwick jogged away.
Seven casualties, an unknown number of which were dead along with the five, four of whom had died from a direct hit on their hover truck, from yesterday's fighting put us at twelve casualties. Not bad.
I looked at the horizon. Still no sign of the feddies returning for round two. I walked back into the cockpit and checked the status of the weapons.
"Looks like they need to be charged." I said to myself, studying the readout. The capacitor currently in my beam rifle was three-fourths depleted and I'd already used up one of two spare E-caps I had. Guess, I was flying back up to the Garencieres for a resupply myself.
Still, free time was free time and I needed a breather. Walking back out to the cockpit hatch, I sat down with my feet over the edge and started to munch on a ration pack, after adding a judicious amount of hot sauce to it. Had to make it palatable in some way after all.
As I ate, I pondered.
The plan had been going so well that I was a little shaken at how quickly it had buckled when the Federation had made their own moves.
Initially we'd had further successes at Alice Springs. I'd quickly racked up two MS kills in the Asshimar, the benefits of being able to fly over, transform and nail the backs of grounded mobile suits and fly away before its' comrades could react. There had been more door to door fighting at Alice Springs than the prior base but I'd believed that the minovsky particle density had been enough to block outgoing communications.
Maybe that had been the case or more likely someone had slipped away before the net could be closed by us and had been able to get a distress call out once they had left the particle heavy area.
Alice Springs had still fallen on schedule. We had gained more ammo and small arms along with more fuel and various hovercraft to carry them away from the coast to be shipped back to Jamico's area. On the mobile suit factor, the take had been smaller than Ayers Rock. Two Hizacks in need of a good deal of repair before being of use and, oddly enough, one nearly mint condition Gaplant.
Yular had been happy with the weapons and munitions that we'd taken, so the lower mobile suit haul didn't bother him.
The forces had then decamped from the ruined Alice Springs base around noon and we had headed east, intending to cross the outback and strike at the EFF base at Mount Isa. Come nightfall we made camp and started traveling again in the hours before dawn. Then we got into trouble.
All of a sudden a Federation mobile suit column came up from the outback and attacked. Well, I say attacked but it was more like they ran into us and then we shot at each other in the chaos until we both withdrew to gather ourselves. Marida came down from the Garencieres to lend her funnels to our counterattack that wiped the Federation column out, but they'd gotten the word out before that happened.
The rest of the day and the night of June eleventh had been us fending off Federation attacks as the eastern Australian bases sent patrols to hunt us down. Zinnerman had taken the ship up into the cloud banks to avoid drawing the targeting reticles of the various GM and Nemo models sent after us. He'd also been broadcasting minovsky particles willy nilly to throw off Federation surveillance of us.
The skirmishing forced us to change the plan, so the attack on Mount Isa had been scrapped and we broke north to hit the naval base at Darwin with Kirks's Simbu Base Corps and my men and myself would exfil back into space.
However the Federation Forces at Darwin definitely knew we were coming their way, the small towns and hamlets we passed as our column entered the more settled northern coastline probably didn't help either. The latest probe would cement our position to them.
My resolve settled, we needed to strike now before reinforcements from other bases in Australia and beyond can come to the aid of Darwin. Or worse, before Londo Bell can descend to earth and deal with us.
My adhoc force was managing to hold up against the mobile suits the federation had in Australia, I had no illusions that they'd do the same against the cutting edge Jegans that Londo Bell fielded. In that scenario, only myself in the Asshimar, Marida in her Kshatriya and the two Geara Dogas had even odds in a combat scenario with Jegans.
I finished the last crumbs of my ration and tossed the tin over the side of the cockpit hatch. Time to get back to the Garencieres
~~~
"Have we been able to make contact with the Simbu Base Corps?" I asked as I strolled into the Garencieres bridge. I saw Yonem Kirks hunched over the communications console, one hand holding a headset to his ears and the other fiddling with a dial.
Zinnerman answered my question.
"We think so."
"Think so?"
He nodded, displeasure evident on his bearded face. "We've used all the right callsigns and channels but the Minovsky particles are getting heavier by the minute north of our position, no doubt it's the Federation moving their mobile suits around. Hopefully they're paying attention out there."
I hummed at Zinnerman's words, an idea percolating in my mind.
"Then let's make sure they know the party's on. How many bazookas and bazooka rounds did we take off the bases?" I asked.
"Enough for every mobile suit to have one, certainly enough rounds to go around." Zinnerman didn't know the exact numbers but if every mobile suit could be armed with a bazooka and ammunition to spare.
."Dial up the MS squads and have them start arming themselves with the bazookas then." I ordered, leaning down to Zinnerman's console and pulling up the aerial images a drone had taken of the city this morning. The rise in Minovsky particles since then meant that it couldn't be used again, but we had the images.
"We only need to hit the EFN base here." I pointed at a series of concrete buildings and dockyards in the middle of the city, pretty much smack dab in the center of Darwin's port.
"Right." Zinnerman said, a questioning look on his tanned features.
"And we need to obviously signal to our own naval forces that we are taking so they can swim in and secure the targets." I smiled, pleased with the idea. "So when we start the advance, every mobile suit will empty their bazookas and create a corridor of advance through the city to the base."
"Risky. Especially if the enemy forces can cross the corridor and intercept our forces."
I nodded in agreement and zoomed in on the place I had selected for the corridor. A highway that went nearly to the naval base then split in either direction. "True, which is why myself and the Garencieres team will secure the corridor from incoming federation mobile suits. I'll give Kirks command of the rest of the operation."
Zinnerman raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that the best choice? Not to mention your preference for having overall command."
I shrugged. "It's Zinnerman's command that will be making the other main move of the attack and he has the role of securing the escape routes for Jamico and Graw's commands. He has more than enough investment to have my trust in carrying this out. Plus he can have better overwatch from his transport than I'd be able to in the Asshimar."
"Your decision. I'll tell Marida to prepare for land combat. I suppose you want the Garenciers in the cloud banks while this is going on?" He asked.
I grinned. "If you don't mind, I'd hate to have my ride shot down. Remember, we're leaving as soon as our forces here have dispersed, so make sure to keep the engines warm."
I left the bridge to grab some coffee. Zinnerman's parting words did make me chuckle in open amusement.
"What else would I keep them at? I already had to crash land once, not that interested in making it a habit."
~~~
"To the people of Darwin: I really hope the Federation did the smart thing and you're all long gone by now." I spoke to the empty air as a timer counted down on the cockpit screen. "Should that not be the case, then I pray you keep your heads down. My deepest apologies for this action against your city."
The alarm beeped.
"Open fire!" I barked into the Zeon comm channels and then I followed up on my own words. Smoke belched out of the bazooka I had been equipped with and I felt the vibrations buzz through the metal of the mobile suit. The wonders of fighting under gravity, I could hear and feel more.
A hundred bright new stars lit up the late afternoon sky, rising high up into the sky like the ignited boosters of a spaceship going up into space..before reversing their course and plummeting down to the ground with terrible force. A hedge wall of flames and smoke erupted from the ground in front of us. Then another wave emerged as we reloaded and sent another wave into the city.
The third and final clip of five we sent scattering in an horizontal arc in front of us, hopefully breaking up the terrain to prohibit any ground vehicles from advancing on us.
"All units advance!" I gave the attack order and threw my mobile suit off the Dodai I had been hitching a ride on, and transformed into the suit's mobile armor mode. "Garencieres team, form up on me. My rear cameras showed the Geara Dogas following on their liberated Base Jabber subflight unit, while the Kshatriya managed a fall with style towards the city.
Overhead the column charged into Darwin's airspace and I could spy dust plumes from Graw's land based charge. Suddenly the smoke we had created was pierced by a large green-yellow beam, originating high in the air and striking an unseen target. Kirk's work.
I wished him good luck and then I was weaving in and out of the smoke pillars our barrage had caused, scanners searching for incoming enemy mobile suits.
"This is Marida Cruz, we've made landfall." Marida's report managed to punch through the minovsky interference to me.
I swooped in and transformed my Asshimar into its mobile suit mode. "I see. Then we're moving onto the plan. I'll run interference from the air. Lt. Cruz, put your funnels to work and control the streets. Strabald and Friz, guard her and assist as needed. Hopefully in thirty minutes we'll be back on our way to space."
No sooner had the words passed my lips did my sensors start beeping. A pair of GM IIs jumped through the smoke, their silhouettes highlighted by the blue of their thrusters. A volley of beam fire from the four of us sent them tumbling into so many pieces.
"Good hunting!" I managed before taking to the skies again. The bird's eye view showed me that several MS teams were closing in on the corridor we had created. In a blink of the eye I picked the closest team and shot towards them.
Speed was always the name of the game in combat and the one who was the fastest was the one who could strike first. And striking first guaranteed victory nine times out of ten.
A fact that the mobile suit team I descended upon them, taking out one and destroying the arm of another. I jerked the transformation lever and finished off the crippled mobile suit with a downward beam saber stab.
The remaining two tried to level their beam rifles at me, so I closed the distance and shoulder charged into the shield of one of the GM II, pinning that arm in place while I blind fired my beam rifle. The yellow beams tore through the building behind the other GM II but my wild firing still managed to tear across the waist of that GM II and send it topping to the ground. I then fired my thrusters and pushed the GM II whose shield I had pinned into the concrete of an apartment block, in doing so my right shoulder was only partially scored by the blind shot the GM II was firing.
A quick reverse thrust with the front verniers allowed me to end the final GM II with a stab through its chest. Then I transformed back to mobile armor mode and was back in the air, wilding swerving to avoid beam fire from the ground and squeezing off shots to force the enemy mobile suits to scatter their formation and lose unit cohesion.
Near the shore I could see circling sub flight units and mobile suits jumping over buildings, above them dark spots circled as an out of sight Zaku I sniper variant went about its keen eyed business. Then I was charging another MS team and focused on the close quarters combat.
I quickly lost track of time as I raced from spot to spot, the demands of melee combat forcing me to focus on only the issue in front of me. That and the limitations I was forced to work around with the city environment and gravity. More than once I was forced to push through buildings to avoid incoming attacks as I simply didn't have the maneuverability I was accustomed to.
Somehow we managed to blunt the incoming Federation mobile suits, I would credit Marida's funnels if I could but her work and mine had been separate by the nature of our mobile suits. The Feds had gotten their licks in on me too, numbers managing to tell over my daredevil frontal attack strategy.
Three verniers had been destroyed, my suit's left shoulder was mostly slag and the left foot thrusters were sputtering in and out by the end of those hellish thirty minutes of desperate rearguard action. I felt like I had been put in a washing machine, my clothes soaked with sweat and my muscles sore from the push and pull of gravity on them.
But we did it. The counterattack was thrown off and in the lull the signal flares had gone up from the harbor, meaning we could fall back to them. The squad reports that had come in when I flew into the naval bases perimeter showed a high butcher's bill. Five of our suits had been destroyed, with two pilots managing to eject.
But Kirks incoming warband had been able to secure the predicted six Zaku Mariners from their place in storage and under the guard of our guns, were loaded onto the Fat Uncle transports. I noticed that Jamico had managed to damage his Gallus further but didn't bother to mention it to him. We needed to split
Later I would learn that Captain Amos Graw had been one of the two pilots who had survived their mobile suits being destroyed, though he would lose a leg from shrapnel.
However at the time I was too busy withdrawing with the rest of the Garencieres team back up to the ship. I was also busy worrying about the leg thrusters, the sputtering had gotten worse and I needed to overcorrect in order to be able to fly in a straight line. I did manage a few sentences telling the Remnants to take pride in their work and the proof of their fighting spirit that they had been able to demonstrate to the Federation before taking off.
Then we were back in the Garencieres as it broke towards the upper atmosphere. The Geara Dogas and the Kshatriya had taken only minimal damage and Tomura's team quickly had them stowed for the trip. Unfortunately for my Asshimar, Zinnerman's main mechanic had taken one quick look at the mobile suit and declared it a consummate danger to the safety of the ship.
Apparently there had been a number of very very near misses to the reactor, which itself was showing hairline fractures from the stress I had put it under on top of the damage. So the Asshimar was strapped with a bundle of plastic explosive and made to walk the plank.
Made a pretty explosion at least.
Then finally, blessedly, miraculously the ship broke the atmosphere and I was back in space. There were more tense hours of maneuvering by Zinnerman as we got clear of the space above Australia and cut back into the shipping lanes undetected. This time when we made the approach into the shoal zone, there was no customs ship lurking in wait.
The Garden of Thorns wasn't a pleasant construction but when I saw it come into view I swore it was the most beautiful thing mankind had ever made.
It really was good to be home. The paperwork I got foisted back with was a right bitch however.
A/N: That's that folks. Our brief adventure onto Earth has wrapped up with another bout of embarrassment for the Federation. I'm sure this won't result in more funding being sent to certain groups that were a major combatant against the Sleeves in canon.
Up next we're going to get a Bright interlude to see what this merry adventure has stirred up and then the story is going to swing over to the much anticipated Sinanju heist. See everyone then.
Paperwork, makes anyone want to go back on the battlefield than deal with it.
Overall, great chapter as always and I enjoyed it.
Overall, great chapter as always and I enjoyed it.
- Location
- Germany
There is a point where you built up remnant forces enough to change the label to something else since "remnant" is not applicable anymore.
The problem is when politicos decide to not do that because they are scared and do not want to admit the "remnants" are making a full frontal comback
. Which confuses anyone in their attached military structure when they go out to battle "remnants" and expect a rabble enemy when instead the rabble is better lead and sometimes even equipped than the swaggering forces arrayed against them because nobody told those guys that the rules changed/rolled back to war expectations (and not rebels etc.).
Chapter 29
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Chapter 29
----Bright Noa missed the days when he could get a full night's worth of sleep. He also missed the days when his coffee came from a fresh pot and wasn't the reheated remains of the pot he made during the evening. Peering through still bleary eyes, he checked the time on the digital clock on his desk.
Far far too early in the morning for him to be having to deal with an emergency conference with EFSF High Command. But Bright, through the lingering grip of sleep, managed to feel very smug that he was among the most well put together of all the officers on the call. So many admirals and commandants and staff officers that looked like they had just been dragged out of bed for this. All of them blinking rapidly at the harsh office lights that stung at sleep-riddled eyes.
Heh, suckers. Bright sipped at his reheated coffee. He'd made a habit years ago of always having a freshly ironed jacket in his closet. So long as he didn't have to stand up while the cameras were rolling, he'd look calm, cool, and collected.
The assembled assortment of brass Bright was a part of, were anything but at the moment.
"Just where does Dakar Command find the gall to accuse us of being derelict in our duties! They just got trounced by walking junk from twenty years ago, piloted by terrorists who spent those twenty years hiding out in caves!" Vice Admiral Ikande shouted in anger, pounding a fist on his desk to emphasize his displeasure.
Vice Admiral McDougall nodded emphatically in agreement. "This is nothing more than the incompetents in the Ground Forces trying to throw mud to distract from their mistakes. If this comes to an inquest before the Assembly we'd come out looking better. We just need to show them we're not going to bow to this ridiculous accusation!"
More voices from other men and a few women rose up in agreement. Bright noted that they were all of the Admiralty. Not surprising, Neo Zeon had been giving the EFSF black eyes enough this year and all these high ranking officers with their reputations to protect weren't going to allow another blow to be landed on their collective reputations.
He let the rest of the meeting pass him by, doing nothing that would bring him to the attention of the group. Eventually the cooler heads calmed the indignant many and they broke up, not before Bright was consigned to another set of meetings in the morning. Great.
After putting some pants on, Bright rung up his analytic department. I&A always had someone on active duty for this express purpose.
"Captain Noa speaking, have the stills been analyzed yet?" He asked the petty officer on duty. "Good, send them to me immediately then and send a copy to Colonel Kajima."
A minute later, a new email appeared on his computer. Bright opened it and started clicking through the blown up images and stitched together videos that had been pulled from servers half destroyed by Minovsky particle exposure. Very grainy but those greens were too fresh to be remnant suits.
He finished off his coffee and grimaced at both the taste and sight before him.
"Those are certainly Neo Zeon mobile suits." He leaned back in his chair and pinched his nose. "So they were involved in this too."
More questions would undoubtedly come about from this incident. Preliminary reports suggested that there had been a mass looting spree across various Australian bases and depots, not to mention the small clips of a local news station at Darwin Australia that showed EFN mobile suits being escorted onto Remnant ships.
Bright pulled up another image from a different file on his computer. It was a map of the Earth Sphere, with circles and lines that shows Neo Zeon operations and movements, confirmed and unconfirmed, since Axis. His own personal murder board if Bright felt compelled to put a name to the image. A young Bright Noa would have been thrilled.
"Rather not wait for enemy action to happen two more times to be able to make a judgment." Bright mused to himself. "I suppose it's time then."
He dialed a number. One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings…
"Kajima speaking." A bleary voice coughed out. Bright could sympathize with the sudden awakening but it was part of the job.
"Colonel, I need you to report to my quarters at once. There's been a major Remnant operation on Earth and our friends in Neo Zeon were seen front and center." Bright quickly rattled off the relevant information, more details could be obtained by Yuu Kajima, the famed Blue Death and now the commander of the Londo Bell Mobile Suit Corp with Amuro being…missing in action.
To Yuu's credit, he was quick on the update. "I'll be up in four." He also sounded much more awake, the benefit of his long time in the service.
Bright forwarded the file containing the analytic company's initial assessment on the attack and the enhanced pictures and videos to Yuu's email on his end, just to make sure it was at the top of his email list. Then he made a new pot of coffee, filling two mugs and making Yuu's usual mix, two teaspoons of sugar and a splash of half and half. Bright would have preferred sugar and creamer in his cup but he had promised Mirai to look after his sugar intake on account of 'his age'.
He smiled at the memory of that conversation. The look on her face when he had pointed out that she was just as old as him! What a woman he had married.
Yuu Kajime strode into his office three minutes after Bright had called him, an unbuttoned jacket thrown over his white tank top. Bright saw that he didn't have shoes on and was still wearing sweatpants. Yuu pushed off the carpet of Bright's office and floated up to the ceiling and pushed off it to land with a soft thump into the chair in front of Bright's desk.
Bright saw that Yuu had a tablet in one hand, which Yuu put to the side to eagerly quaff down the coffee Bright had made for him. In one pull. Coffee that was fresh from the pot.
Bright emphasized his judgment by taking a slow sip of his own brew. Yuu looked over the lip of his cup as he drained the final dregs.
"Heh, come on Bright. I can't help myself! You have the good stuff, not like that cantina slop the quartermaster gives the rest of us!" Yuu grinned and it gave his face a timeless look of youth. Suddenly Bright was back on the White Base, huddling down to avoid Zeon patrols and eating truly horrible rehydrated rations. He blinked, and the rush of nostalgia faded away like mist. He might really be getting old if this was happening to him!
Luckily, Bright could pass his brief pause off as tiredness. "If you bothered to save any of your paychecks, then you could have the same as me."
Yuu snorted in a boyish manner. "I'm no good with money Captain, you know that."
"And what will you do when you're out of the service? Starve?" Bright chided. Surprisingly to him, Yuu Kajima had become a rather close friend in the few short years that Londo Bell had existed.
"That's what the pension is for!" Yuu chortled and Bright joined in. Then the brevity passed and the two men's faces grew solemn.
"So, bad sign for the situation down on Earth." Yuu commented, waving his tablet, which had a picture of a Geara Doga firing its beam machine gun into a downed GM II. "Looks like this Full Frontal character has really righted the ship for the zekes. Only just a full year on from the Axis Drop too."
And wasn't that a name that had burst onto the scene. If Bright wasn't absolutely sure that anything Char Aznable could have survived, Amuro Ray would have, he'd have declared Full Frontal to be another mask of Char.
But since Amuro wasn't sitting across from him right now, Bright and Londo Bell worked on the assumption that Full Frontal was the stage name that was being used by Neo Zeon's new leader. He had been a busy man over the past year that Londo Bell roughly put his leadership at.
"Then we now have to plan for a united Zeon front to emerge against us." Bright mused. "With their apparent ties to the new Anti-Earth Union Group, we're going to be hard pressed in the future if we can't smother this in the cradle."
"My thoughts exactly." Yuu said.
Of course, Londo Bell had yet to uncover definitive proof that Neo Zeon was a driving force in this new variant of the AEUG that Bright had once been a part of. The wider Federation Intelligence Community had been able to confirm links between a resurgent separatist political party in Riah and a Lunar unification/independence movement to a, at this point, nebulous AEUG High Command. The structure and members of the new type AEUG were unclear to everyone on Bright's side of the equation.
But when said organization's propaganda wing promotes the membership of Neo Zeon within itself along with Neo Zeon's attacks as being AEUG attacks, and when key parts of its political messaging can trace their origin to the writings of Neo Zeon's new leader…
Where there's smoke, there's fire doesn't even begin to cover it.
Bright moved on from that. "Your thoughts on the new Jegan model?"
Yuu shrugged. "On paper it's an overall improvement to what we're flying now. The upgrade package can be applied to existing mobile suits as well, so we don't need to replace our existing suits. Course none of my people have had the chance to test a D-Type but so far so good."
Bright nodded, trusting in Yuu's evaluation on the technical side of things. Mobile Suits had never been his wheelhouse. "Still, doesn't the timing of this seem suspicious to you?"
"Nah. This is Anaheim we're talking about. They probably had this upgrade package worked up years ago and were just waiting for the right time to sell it to Dakar." Yuu shrugged and tilted his head in a manner that said 'What can you do?". Bright would admit if pressed that such a plan was right up Anaheim's alley.
But, but ,but…He couldn't share the sliver of paranoia that the D-Type provoked. Too convenient for Anaheim's bottom line.
"What's your contact over at Anaheim been doing lately?" Bright asked Yuu.
"Vera? She's assistant senior director of marketing for her branch now." Yuu answered without looking up from his tablet. Bright suspected he was filling out the patrol rooster for the week. He checked the time. Five hours before it was due on Bright's desk.
"I do not mean her." Bright responded. "The other contact who works in their Mobile Suit Division."
Yuu put his tablet down and looked at Bright. "Ah, him."
"Yes, him."
Yuu crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "You think we need to reach out to him?"
Bright was seized by a sudden burst of energy and unable to contain his desire to move, he got out of his chair and started another pot of coffee, pacing in front of the machine while it brewed.
"Too much is adding up to Anaheim's advantage lately and Neo Zeon is suspiciously well supplied." He told Yuu. "Something is coming our way and we need more than just more ships and upgraded mobile suits to be able to fight it."
"We need hard facts." Yuu nodded at Bright's words. "But there are too many unknowns and old favors will only go so far with him, ya know?"
Bright rubbed his chin before responding. "That's fine, we just need to know what projects Anaheim's mobile suit divisions are working on, preferably the classified ones. Nothing too detailed but enough to let us know the general aim of the project."
Yuu sucked in a breath in thought. "That might step on a lot of toes if we get found out. Every branch has Anaheim working on projects for them. We have more than one if I need to remind you."
"And the ones that we don't already know about or come back as not being Federation commissioned are the ones we need to look into. I suspect we'll find a trail of crumbs that link back to Neo Zeon." Bright theorized aloud.
"Maybe but there's no way Anaheim would allow a real smoking gun to even be listed in their department manifestos." Yuu retorted. "My guy would be found out in an instant if he poked into the real black book projects they have."
"We have to start somewhere." Bright told Yuu, pouring two more cups of coffee for them. He handed one to Yuu and then Bright sat back down on his desk.
"There's always a trace of something for us to find, we just need to cast a wide enough net. Have your contact send you material requisitions and test pilot deployments along with the rest of the information." Bright ordered. He could feel a plan percolating. The kind of plan that had made the name Bright Noa into a household name in the Federation Forces. It was a good feeling.
"Gonna be a lotta sleepless nights if we're going to be reviewing such a large amount of data." Yuu half complained and half stated the obvious.
In response, Bright lifted his mug of coffee and nodded at the time on the clock his office had the wall.
"Good point!" Yuu laughed. "Might as well do something useful. What's the plan when we uncover something that leads back to Neo Zeon or anyone tied to Full Frontal's new AEUG?"
Bright grinned, and if there had been a mirror in front of him, he might have realized that he could still look like the bright eyed ensign who commanded the White Base and tangled with Zeon's best all those years ago.
"Londo Bell was granted all the powers that the Titans had been given. That includes the power to investigate anyone and everyone who we suspect of being involved in the aiding, harboring or supplying of terrorist groups. To put it another way Yuu, we're going to be paying Anaheim a visit in force."
Yuu grinned as well. "And let them try to stop us!"
Thirteen days later, Bright's people found what they were looking for. Buried deep in the mentions of supply shipments being rerouted to avoid traffic and mixed in with a complaint file about substandard cafeteria food in Anaheim's St. Joseph facilities, was the barest of mention about three kilos of 'psycfrm' being shipped to Site J.
Site J was a testing site in lunar orbit that Anaheim operated. It had been in use for sixteen consecutive months for the development of a project. Psycfrm was a clear shortening of psychoframe. The project had scant references to it in what Yuu's contact had been able to send their way, but they had been able to pull the name from the mass of data. The UC Project.
The contact had said that whoever the funder for this project had all the bearings of a government contract. So not the smoking gun Bright had hoped for.
But psychoframe was a controlled substance and Londo Bell was in charge of seizing illegal materials as they related to potential terrorist activities.
So while he was certain that Anaheim would be able to produce a certificate from whatever agency or group had allocated the funding for this UC Project. Londo Bell would have ample time to sniff around during their 'routine inspection'.
Colonel Kajima was certainly fired up, he'd been complaining in the command staff meetings that he hadn't had a chance to try his souped up Jegan in the field yet.
~~~
"Argggghhhh!!!"
The mobile suit accelerated with a furious rumble that he, Alberto Vist, could feel in his very marrow. The mobile suit careened left and right, zipped down then back up again with blistering speed as it raced through the obstacle course Anaheim Electronics had at this testing site. Every maneuver this monster of a mobile suit did caused obscene pressure on Alberto as the G-Forces bit into his body.
He was going to throw up. He was going to pass out.
Frankly put, he was going to die in this stupid puffy normal suit and at this point in the torturous ride Alberto thought that was fine by him. So long as he didn't have to deal with the fucking G-forces!
Then just when the creeping darkness had entirely obscured his sight…! The pressure cut off and the vibrations of the engines stopped.
Alberto held his breath for a moment, and he felt his face contorted in anticipation of another murderous burst of acceleration but it never came.
"This concludes the final evaluation of Project MSN-06 Sinanju. All parameters have been met and exceeded. Anaheim Electronics is pleased to declare that the Sinanju project is a complete success. Anaheim Electronics thanks all members of the development staff and our sponsors for their tireless efforts on this design. We look forward to continuing this work in future iterations of the UC Project. Celebratory drinks and food will be available in the forward cafeteria for all."
The pleased voice of the female announcer made Albert open his eyes and uncurl his body. The outside was no longer blurred by the speed of Sinanju. The black of space looked normal and the various impediments and space debris used in the testing course weren't rapidly approaching his face anymore.
He was alive! Oh blessed god he wasn't a smear of red paste on the cockpit screen!
Alberto was only restrained from shouting in glee by the presence of the test pilot in the cockpit with him.
"Well Mr. Vist, was the trip all that had been advertised?" The female test pilot, Alberto didn't remember her name, twisted back in her seat to look at Alberto with an expectant grin on her face. Alberto was suddenly very glad that in the brief seconds for the ride of death began, he had silenced his comms.
"Erm yes, yes indeed. More than anything I think the reports understated the Sinanju's capabilities." Alberto said after quickly coughing to clear his throat.
"Ha! Right you are Mr. Vist. Humans can't handle the full power of the Sinanju here." She patted the console affectionately. "That's why we have her on autopilot and the thrusters capped to just 60% of her total output. And even that limit is too much for anyone on the test pilot roster"
Alberto felt cold sweat trickle down his neck. "Oh..I see. What thruster output were we on for this…evaluation?"
"Well since we were focusing on the responsiveness of the autopilot when dealing with minor deviations from its pre-programmed flight path, only 45%." She had the audacity to grin. Alberto had the very sudden and very urgent need to get away from this madwoman.
He also swore to himself that he would never, ever get in another mobile suit as long as he lived.
"Ah well…we all must make sacrifices to produce a superior product." Alberto stammered out. "But surely its time to return and get this ...wonderful machine all packed up."
"Ha ha, right you are Mr. Vist!" The test pilot said cheerfully. "Shame the SInanju is destined for the cutting room floor after this but I guess that's the fate of prototypes."
"Anaheim always strives towards perfection." Alberto forced out the corny marketing words and in his mind he danced for joy in anticipation of solid, non accelerated metal beneath his feet.
After the Sinanju was docked and returned to its berth, Alberto tumbled out of the cockpit with a distinct lack of grace. He gave a few choice words about the lack of gravity in the hanger and pulled himself along the gantry.
As his poor luck reared its head again, just as he was about to cross off the gantry and into the hallway that would take him towards a much needed locker room to strip out of this ridiculous normal suit, he slipped.
On what, Alberto didn't know but one moment he was walking normally and the next he was quickly moving towards the ceiling.
"Wo-woah!" Alberto flailed wildly but that seemed to only make his upwards flight more erratic.
Just as he was preparing to make the utterly humiliating choice to yell for help, Alberto's forward momentum was abruptly arrested.
"Oof." He grunted as a new point of contact was established by someone, who then dragged Alberto back down to the gantry. Alberto stumbled a bit before regaining his balance.
"Careful there." A strong baritone voice said. "It can take a few minutes to re-adjust from the acceleration if you aren't used to it."
Alberto looked up and saw the cowboy that seemed to have wandered into a secure Anaheim Electronics facility. The slightly baggy blue denim button up and brown corduroy pants, which did go well with the snake-skin cowboy boots he wore Alberto noted, did nothing to conceal the size of the man. The large sunglasses that concealed his eyes only added to the cowboy eccentric look. The mass of long blond hair the man had didn't really register to Alberto.
"Ahem, yes well. You know how things can be obviously." Alberto said. Then he looked down at himself, saw his normal suit and looked at the stranger, who was not wearing a normal suit. In the mobile suit hanger.
"Erm, I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Alberto Vist, Anaheim Electronics." Alberto held out a hand.
The stranger took it eagerly, a congenial smile on his face. "Elias Kadwell, Imago Trading. It's a real pleasure Mr. Vist. And I'm not just saying that because I've gotten the chance to see this real beauty you created." He nodded at the white and gray Sinanju.
"Yes yes, a real marvel of engineering." Alberto responded before taking the conversation in a different direction. "Imago Trading, I can't say I'm familiar."
Mr. Kadwell didn't look surprised. "We're an up and coming import/export company. Bringing in raw materials from the asteroid belt, that sort of stuff."
The two of them moved out of the hangar and started walking deeper into the station Site J's staff was based in.
"A profitable market these days, what brings you to this particular event?" Alberto asked, fishing for information. If he didn't know about a company working for Anaheim that meant they worked for someone above him. That meant a very juicy chance to get a peak at what the upper corporate ladder was doing.
"Oh my company was contracted to ship certain materials needed by the project. Among other matters we get subcontracted by Anaheim to handle." Kadwell lowered his voice. Alberto matched his tone when responding.
"And the details are need to know. I understand." Alberto and the Mr. Kadwell were walking side by side down the hallway, so he leaned in for his next words. "If I may, who handles your company's contracts with Anaheim? I thought I knew all our regulars."
"We work exclusively with your aunt, Mrs. Carbine." Kadwell all but whispered. "On a variety of matters that I can't go further into."
"Of course, of course." Alberto backed off slightly. If his aunt, the rather terrifying woman that she is, had this man and his company as one of her personal contractors, then Alberto didn't need to pry any further. "Well look at the time, I have to get down to the forward cafeteria and deliver the Board's remarks to the team. A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Kadwell. Hopefully we'll have the time to talk longer next time."
Kadwell nodded in agreement. "Of course Mr. Vist, I don't want to hold you up further. Much to do on my end as well, so until next time."
He waved over his shoulder as he walked away. Then Alberto Vist scurried to the lockeroom to get out of this getup and prepare to give his remarks. God he hated doing these. Why didn't Bertram get have to do this, he was the project lead!
A/N: Back at the grind and I decided to get back into the action for the Sinanju heist instead of having the Londo Bell section and another section with Frontal and his crew planning the Sinanju heist. Much more effective use of time in my eyes.
Technically we're off by about half a month for the Sinanju heist, as the date should be June 14th for the heist going of the Bande Dessei manga. But who really cares about dates when you got a story to tell. 14th, 23rdish what's the difference?
It is a huge bummer that the AEUG was once a formidable group with a great aim to reform the Federation and oppose its corruption in form of the Titans, but now after the Gryps War and the Neo Zeon Wars, the remaining members like Bright Noa either return to the Federation and its same status quo or left the group to live their lives far away from fighting like Judau and his friends.
Anyway, it's a splendid chapter as always and I look forward for more. This puts a smile on my face.
Hmmm, if the Federation shuts down Anaheim then I can see a lot of chaos happening in the Federation considering who makes the suites. A lot of people will loose their jobs because of a new Titan is in the house. It's very sad how easily you can see the cycle of corruption happening in the gov.
I always want to know of the politics happening in the shadows on earth.
Also since our MC made a deal with a difrent company then they mighty Zeon forces won't be cut off from funding. That trading company front they made looks like they have a lot of connections for even more resources.
I always want to know of the politics happening in the shadows on earth.
Also since our MC made a deal with a difrent company then they mighty Zeon forces won't be cut off from funding. That trading company front they made looks like they have a lot of connections for even more resources.
It's always a rinse and repeat instead of a natural progression of the lore in Gundam UC where in the grimdark future, there is only war.
That'd be cathartic to see Anaheim Electronics get a humble pie shoved down on their throat and needed to know their place in the Pecking Order.
And that they're the reason why UC went wrong in the first place.
As for politics of the Federation, I do find it odd why we never the President of the Earth Federation, just the military officials and politicians apparently calling the shots.
SI Full Frontal shouldn't be dependent on Anaheim forever and it's good he branched out from them.
The more things change the more they stay the same.
Ivan the Not-so-Terrible
AH MEW CHEEKI BREEKI I V DAMKE
- Location
- Mikonyan’s USSR
Well, probably because they've got a Prime Minister instead? But more seriously, it seems that the Earth Federation has collective leadership in the Soviet mold - I imagine that whoever's (or more likely a revolving door of several whoevers) in charge after the One Year War is probably a Brezhnev-type, complete with stagnation and passive internal policy.
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
The Federation did once have a strong executive in its prime ministers. They got humanity into space in a mass colonization effort and had all the Sides built.
however that looks to have ended(potentially) when Ricardo Marcenas got whacked when the Universal Century started. Of course the One Year War could also have had the executive branch gutted and left influence with the military and political sphere elites we see in Zeta.
That makes sense and it sucks. It'd be great if the AEUG had consolidated their newfound rapport with the Federation after successfully exposing the Titans at Dakar than rush forward to finish the latter group off.
Said group went to Neo Zeon out of desperation and unaware or knowing they became hypocrites to side with the enemy they were supposed to fight against.
I can imagine Blex Forer, founder of the AEUG, wanted to bring back that strong executive when reforming the Federation as intended before he was assassinated.
Now the AEUG lost purpose and drifted from that goal of reformation.
- Location
- Midwest
The federation did have a strong executive in the form of Jamitov Hymen. It probably had one after him as well having an empire basically requires centralized decision-making even if you launder authority via elections.
Yeah pretty much. Of course it didn't last long as events of Char's Counterattack and later Unicorn (or was it Hathaway's Flash before that) happened.
Chapter 30
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Chapter 30
~~~U.C. 0094.6.19
Anaheim Electronics Test Site J, Lunar Space
~~~
I stifled laughter as I continued to walk down the hallway and away from Alberto Vist. Truly I couldn't remember seeing a more ungainly person in both my lives. Though it sounded rude even in my head to make the comparison, his gait had an almost penguin waddle in it.
Ah still, back to business. I moved through the hallways, dodging work crews in the hallway as I went. I took one elevator up to a higher level, did some more walking towards the center of the station before taking another elevator down. This second elevator required me to punch in a code to get the level I wanted.
The elevator didn't make a bing noise when it arrived on the floor but the camera in the car's corner coming alive and whirring down to look at me worked just as well. I took off my sunglasses to allow the camera and its operator to see my baby blues. That was enough confirmation for the operator and the door hissed open, revealing the station's control room.
And control room was the right word for the mass of screens that covered all four walls of the room, the many people huddled over their workstations. Everyone was intently observing the feeds from the cameras that I assumed ran the entire length of the facility, and judging by a screen that showed multiple angles of the obstacle course outside, the area outside too.
Well I say everyone, but in the middle of the room stood three individuals, two men and one woman, sharing a glass of champagne. Before you ask, yes the bottle was in an ice bucket.
The bucket that was hovering in the air.
Fucking Anaheim Electronics. I shook my head before walking up to join the group.
"Ah Mr. Kadwell, right on time as usual." Kaises M. Buyer saluted me with his glass of champagne and a sleazy smile. It had been a few months since I'd been in the same room with my ostensible chief diplomat and I now couldn't wait to be divested of his presence for a hopefully longer period of time. Buyer had been a busy little bee with Anaheim and then Buch Concern coordinating war materiel shipments to the Garden of Thorns and then to the rest of the mobilizing AEUG.
I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him but his work was effective.
"I try." I told Buyer before taking the fourth glass of champagne that Horst Harness handed to me.
"Good to see you again Elias." We shook hands.
"Same with you, Horst. Accommodations to your liking?" I asked. Horst Harness had been puttering between Riah, The Moon and the Garden of Thorns on AEUG business as well. His very large task had been to assist the various groups in the AEUG in starting up their warship production. The ship designer at least had the chance to pound out a few variations of the Musaka that suited the Liberation Front and New Desides' individual needs.
"Oh nothing to complain about. Fine facility they got here, the cargo hauler you brought though?" Horst grimaced. I chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.
"The less said the better, I know. But can it haul the cargo?" I asked intently.
Horst bobbed his head back and forth in thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, the containers will fit onto the mag locks. But don't try anything more than flying in a straight line, that hauler is meant for raw, unrefined material, not mobile suits."
"Then it will blend right in with the rest of our trading fleet sailing out of Granada tomorrow."
"I must say that I was expecting something more bold for your grand plan, Mister Kadwell." spoke Martha Vist Carbine, dressed in a black and red business suit with a skirt. "Maybe something more explosive and with more witnesses to your prowess."
I sipped my champagne -it was cold and bubbly- before replying. "I've raised plenty of heat, Mrs. Carbine. Figured it was time for a more sedate affair. Correct me if I'm wrong but I hear congratulations are in order for a rather sizable contract with the Federation military."
Martha Vist Carbine sipped her drink. "Yes, Anaheim has been contracted to develop and supply the next generation of ground use mobile suits for the Federation army, along with a new production order of Jegans for the space forces."
I toasted her. "May your fortunes only continue to grow. My company will certainly look forward to the increased business sent our way."
She gave a very slight nod of acknowledgement. "If all continues as our analysts predict, then we can both expect a very brisk flow of goods and profit in the future. Everyone who is on the right side can expect a handsome cut."
"Imago Trading looks forward to that day." I lied. "Will you have time for dinner with us later? It's been far too long since our last one"
I had no doubt that the workers in the room with us were paid very nice wages to allow them to unlock man's innate gift of selective deafness, blindness and muteness for company business. I also had no doubt that there existed people and organizations that could pay the price in money and protection to have those abilities stop working.
"I'm afraid I have other tasks in Von Braun that require my attention." Martha Vist Carbine said, finishing off the rest of her champagne. "But we'll be having a small soiree tonight to celebrate the closing of this phase of the project. We can talk there."
Clearly, the conversation was over.
"We look forward to seeing you then, Mrs. Carbine." I stepped to the side to allow her to leave the room. Then my party of three followed after her and thanks to a quick escort by station security, reached our rooms without delay.
I left Kaises and Horst to finish up their business. I had a "heist" to plan. Oh it was going to be a clever operation with all the spy stuff that belongs in the arsenal of Bond and Bourne.
Not really.
No sir this was going to be a cakewalk. A milk run. A stroll in the park.
A task as easy as stealing candy from a baby. A job that a blind man with one arm and leg could pull off without sweating a drop.
Let me explain.
Imago Trading, the primary shell company/vehicle of an income stream I had created for Neo Zeon to ship whatever we needed to feed and expand our warmachine, used the cover of being an Anaheim subcontractor company to explain our nearly continual presence in various Anaheim docks across the Earth sphere.
We'd frog-hopped our way up the chain of trust, through being known in the company as Martha Vist Carbine's new favorites in the shipping world, so that us having a cargo tug at this test site wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact this specific tug had become a regular visitor to Testing Site J over the past two months just to familiarize the station's crew with us.
Of course we weren't using Imago Trading employee's from the Palau offices for this, operation security and all that. A full crew of crewmen from the fleet and a platoon from the Attack Force made the cargo tug able to outmaneuver and hopefully outfight anyone who came knocking.
I'd rode on this cargo tug along with a "bolstered" security force due to the sensitive nature of the cargo we would ostensibly be taking to an Anaheim off the books storage site after the final test run earlier today.
Only the two Sinanju units would never arrive physically at this storage site. The cargo tug would sail back to the Garden of Thorns once we were safely out of visual range. All the records would say the two units, which were going to be deemed failed prototypes due to the strain of piloting them being too much for ordinary humans, were stored safely deep under the dirt of the Moon. Nobody would ever wise up to the ploy until it was too late.
All we had to do was do our job.
I had to admit this was far easier than the prison break had been to plan.
The cargo tug wouldn't only be hauling the Sinanju units, its many containers would be loaded to the brim with reactors, panoramic cockpits and various industrial parts. The essential building blocks for the AMS-129 Geara Zulu that the Garden of Thorns couldn't produce.
In the very near future, the first units would roll off the assembly line and from there mass production could begin. My Neo Zeon would have a new face to present to the Earth Sphere and an equal to the new models that I knew Londo Bell would be rolling out in the upcoming years. There would be no paired down model for my forces due to resource constraints.
All me and mine needed to do in order to pull it off was to be a bunch of smooth operators for one dinner event and not stick out.
~~~
The small soiree turned out, surprisingly, to be as its name suggested. Small in size and scope but still possessing elegance and refinement that the upper echelons of Anaheim Electronics demanded. We even had a nice window view of the testing grounds on one side of the room. Very swanky judging by the appreciative noises the businessmen and their socialite dates had made at Martha Vist Carbine when speaking with her.
The food was an endless array of trays with finger food and small tiny sandwiches and cheese, served alongside very old wine and champagne. Tasty, but I didn't find it filling and it wasn't like I could exactly load up the tiny plates we all had. I was trying to fly under the radar here.
The Sinanju project was complete, had been deemed unsuitable for mass production and the next round designs had already been billed to the Federation was the gossip of the mingling crowd. I'd skirted the edge of the crowd after making a perfunctory show of shaking the hands of the higher ups Martha Vist Carbine had brought with her. Had to maintain the image of Imago Trading being here for business after all.
Luckily I had been able to foist the wheeling, though with no dealing, part over to Kaises. From across the room it looked like he was in his element. I wondered if he would be able to unearth any beneficial information that Neo Zeon would be able to take advantage of.
The quartermasters had been saying that we could do with more bulk shipments of fabrics, and the commissary would always appreciate new wares to hawk.
About an hour passed and the party continued unabated. I'd had to make more rounds, shake some more hands and make more small talk. I came to believe that I was being deliberately left out of the business talk that I could vaguely hear was happening.
I figured since my company, Imago Trading, was pretty blatantly in the pocket of Martha Vist Carbine, anyone who was looking to make the bottom line go up wasn't so dumb as to invite her into their business through a backdoor with a contractor.
Then it happened that I was back on the outskirts of the crowd, half listening to their murmurs and the soft opera music that had been chosen for the event, when I spied a curious sight out in the blackness of space.
It looked like a piece of industrial debris floating towards the testing grounds. It looked whitish but that could just be the light from the nearby moon reflecting off the metal.
There was a flicker of something from behind the debris and I narrowed my eyes in confusion. Had those been the flare of engines?
I focused, blocking out the music and voices behind me, and stared hard at the white spec that was growing larger. Still too far to make out the exact details but it was growing in size so it must be approaching with some speed, not just errantly floating through the void as its residual kinetic energy willed.
Then I saw the single spec turn into two spec, then three specs. These were not specs but ships I realized. Military ships too based on the way they had been traveling.
And I knew that there wasn't supposed to be any Federation vessels remotely close to this test site. Not during the Sinanju development and certainly not now that the handoff was happening.
I'd been provided with the list of the EFSF officers and technicians that had been supervising the development, but Martha Vist Carbine had assured me they would all be too busy to take note of the transportation of the Sinanjus and who was handling them.
The white specs were closer now and I knew those profiles, from the battlefield and the intelligence reports. Clop-class cruisers, the rank and file ship for Londo Bell.
But wait, that was only two of the three ships. I studied the middle ship closer, feeling my eyes hurt from the strain. I could just make out two launch catapults that aimed away from the rest of the ship.
A Ra-Cailum class battleship.
The Ra-Cailum class, the first of her class. The very flagship of Londo Bell. Even the best of Zinnerman's intelligence assets and data purchased from Anaheim said her sister ships were nearly two years away from leaving the drydocks, the result of the ongoing Federation spending re-organization.
So that was the Ra Cailum.
Bright fucking Noa was here. I felt a pinch of mental pain as the Will of Char that was still inhabiting a corner of my brain shook in old anger, stoked again by the fresh sight.
I moved away from the window and straightened my dinner jacket. The situation had changed drastically now and my plan needed to be amended at once.
I ghosted through the crowd and made my way to Martha Vist Carbine's side. She was looking down at her phone, the slightest of frowns on her lips.
"We have a problem." I whispered to her, plucking another champagne flute from a waiter and turning my back to the crowd so that nobody could read my lips.
"Oh?" She murmured to me, moving her stance to match my own. We were reasonably assured of privacy this way.
"Londo Bell is approaching this testing site." I told her. Her eyes widened a bit.
"How did you already know?" She asked.
"I have sharp eyes." I answered. "Clearly we need to amend our schedule. Have they hailed the station?"
"Yes. It appears that this is a routine inspection of our psycho frame stock to ensure that Anaheim is following the rules of our arrangement with the Federation Forces." Martha Vist Carbine told me. "They'll be docking in thirty minutes."
I wanted to curse. That was too fast for my cargo hauler to leave without looking suspicious. We'd be intercepted and boarded on that action alone. And after they discovered the minor arsenal we had onboard, the crew would be treated to an all expense paid vacation to the brig.
"Can they be delayed?"
She shook her head, again minutely. "Not for any significant amount of time. You'll have to improvise."
"Has the Sinanju been loaded onto my ship?" She checked her phone before answering.
"Just the maintenance parts for both units. At the fastest it will take fifty minutes for both units to be loaded."
"Then load up unit one, stuff it in a box and maglock it to the hauler if that's what it takes. The dents will come out." I said, having decided that my sinanju was more important to acquire than both units. Besides the second unit ended up in the right hands in one world, it should do the same here.
"Even if we rush, it may already be too late for a clean getaway." Martha Vist Carbine warned me. Or maybe she was chiding me. I'd been the one to insist that the Sinanju hand off be done in a clandestine manner. Originally she had the "theft" be more like I remembered it being: hijacking Federation ships in an isolated shipping lane and blowing my way home with the Sinanju.
Had she done this? Brought Londo Bell to Anaheim's doorstep like this to force me to adhere to her way of doing things?
Was she even capable of arranging events like that?
No, I didn't believe she'd deliberately bring this type of force down on her own head. That didn't jive with the serpentine nature of Martha Vist Carbine.
But that didn't mean that she wouldn't twist this suddenly developing situation to her own long term benefit.
God, the fact that my Neo Zeon had to be in bed with this woman and her schemes made me murderous. Would the moral rot be able to be washed out when all was said and done?
"Then I better get to work. And with all that said," I nodded back towards the mingling crowd. "Probably best that the party wraps up now. I'm sure everyone would hate to miss the chance to make a positive impression on the famed Captain Bright Noa."
The look in her cold eyes told me that she'd gotten my hint and understood that Bright Noa would rather shoot most of the room dead than play social niceties with these people. Not that they knew it.
As the party broke up with the news that a Londo Bell patrol would be making port at the station and that there was a much better view of the warships docking on the other side of the station, I intercepted Kaises and Horst, briefing them on the situation as we lagged behind the crowd.
"Troubling." Kaises said coolly. He didn't look distressed in the slightest with the situation, which I found to be impressive for a man who was on the Federation's most wanted list for his role in Char's Neo Zeon.
Horst Harness didn't say anything but the tugging he did to loosen up his collar and the nervous sweat breaking out on his face spoke volumes as to his opinion about current affairs.
"Yes." I agreed with Kaises. "So we're modifying the plan. Make your way back to the hauler and get into normal suits. I can't say that this won't end in a fight."
"And you?" Kaises asked.
"I'm going to assist with the loading of the Sinanju. I'm told it's already down at the loading bay. Hopefully it will pass Londo Bell's notice."
"Just the one unit?" Kaises had evidently noticed my use of the singular.
I shrugged in response. "As I said, the plan's changing."
"Understood, but I think it best that Horst goes with you. I still have business on the moon to finalize for us." Kaises said. I looked at him and inwardly cursed myself again for having to depend so much on people I knew could sell me down the river if they wanted to.
But Kaises M. Buyer at least said he was on my side. So he got more trust from me than Martha Vist Carbine ever would.
"Fine, but don't get captured now. It'd be a real mess to stage another prison break from a maximum security prison." I chided him before pulling away from the crowd with Horst. We moved down a level and made our way into a locker room that held the normal suits.
I helped Horst get into one.The man had withdrawn from his early panic, now he was in the grips of the kind of steely but brittle determination people have when they are determined to get out of something that they really don't like.
He'd walk across a fire to get out of this mess but I could sense that once he was on the ship Horst wouldn't be of much further use today. Fine by me, I couldn't risk my only ship designer that much.
We avoided the station's elevators, using jeffries tubes to move down the station towards the loading dock. My paranoia told me that Londo Bell wouldn't just leisurely sail to dock and ask a few questions of the staff before leaving.
In short time we reached the dock that our cargo hauler was located at. As I expected, the area was a storm of activity. Crewmen zipped around the hanger, working the loading cranes at dangerous speeds to push the massive container containing the Sinanju into position to be maglocked to the cargo hauler along with secondary crates that had spare parts and weapons for the mobile suit. I took in their progress and judged it to be too slow.
We'd be caught out in the open like this.
I flagged down a petty officer.
"Take him to the ship and strap him in." I said, pushing Horst in his direction. The petty officer saluted and directed Mr. Harness to the boarding ramp.
A sergeant ran up to me next. He was the platoon sergeant for the platoon on board the cargo hauler.
"Sir, Londo Bell forces are pulling alongside the station. We've been monitoring station chatter and they've comm'd their intention to board as part of an inspection." He reported. I nodded along at his words. About what I had feared then.
"How long until the mobile suit is loaded?" I looked at the container.
"Technicians can't say, the cargo loader was malfunctioning and they say they still need to confirm that the tracks between the loader and the ship will connect." Was the gruff reply.
I sighed in frustration and made a decision. Damn, I was hoping to avoid giving that woman what she wanted. But the cargo we had onboard already and my mobile suit were too precious to risk on the chance that Londo Bell would ignore us.
"Tell them to halt loading of the mobile suit and open the container. It seems that I'll be taking it for a test drive today." I managed a sardonic grin.
The sergeant knew better than to question my obvious orders. He saluted and about faced to bark the new directives at the crewmen. I ran over to the boarding ramp for the ship and after cycling through the airlock, pulled myself to the bridge.
It was time to activate the backup plan.
A small, vindictive corner of my mind hoped that Martha Vist Carbine would enjoy this sojourn to the front lines of the war she was backing.
~~~
A tight beam laser sprinted through the star filled void. It had been broadcasted from an intentionally non-descript cargo hauler, currently docked at an Anaheim Electronics testing facility in lunar orbit. This ship was registered under the Imago Trading company. Aside from being the number one employer on the asteroid station of Palau in Side 5, Imago Trading served as shell company for the concealed transport of war munitions and parts for Neo Zeon and the reformed Anti-Earth Union Group.
So this cargo hauler should not have access to such a communication device, at least if the ship had nothing to hide. But as said before, this vessel had plenty to hide and it was in need of help.
The laser beam quickly impacted its target, the communication bank of a massive red battleship. The warship was running dark, all but the most critical of systems shut down to lower the ship's thermal profile, and floating like a hulk in dark space. The warship was positioned so far away from any established space lanes that you would have to know exactly where the ship was positioned in order for a laser beam communication to reach it.
This battleship was the Rewloola. She was the flagship of the Neo Zeon fleet, veteran of the Luna V and Axis Drop battles. She had downed half a dozen federation naval vessels during that war and had come out the other side damaged but alive. Now she was back in fighting shape.
Once the mighty Rewloola had been the personal ship of Char Aznable but these days she sailed under the command of Char's successor: Full Frontal, Supreme Commander of Neo Zeon and the man who most in the various zeon circles considered the best chance they had to lead the revival of Zeon.
With the new leader came a new captain. These days the Rewloola was captained by Hill Dawson, Commodore of the Neo Zeon Space Attack Force. He was the commander of the navy, answerable only to Full Frontal himself and he took pride in that. That pride meant that he always looked his best when at the helm of the ship.
Hill Dawson captained his ship in full uniform, every fiber, button and epaulet in exquisite arrangement. The green greatcoat with its red cuffs and collars was freshly ironed and he had shined the brim of his peaked cap last night, along with straightening the silver braiding on the visor. He did not do this out of a misplaced sense of vanity, like the admiralty of the old Principality had done. Rather, Hill Dawson felt that as the captain, he had a duty to be the face of the crew and the ship, both of whom he was proud to b e the captain for. A fine crew demanded a fine captain. If he was always at his best, then his crew and his ship would return the favor.
A soldier's superstition to be sure but one that, through the vagaries of war, had been reinforced in Hill Dawson's psyche.
This superstition was reinforced yet again in Hill's mind when his comms officer told him that they had received a laser beam message.
"Emergency message sir." The comms officer handed Hill the slip of paper the beamed message had been transcribed onto. Hill rapidly read it. Then he handed the slip back to the comms officer for disposal.
"So much for a milk run." Hill said, looking over at his executive officer. The XO nodded.
"Been too many years since we've actually had a milk run sir. A real one would be like seeing a rainbow on Mars." XO Cheerly cheerfully said. Hill didn't add to the joke, one of them had to be the serious one in the command structure.
"Time to get on the horn and wake up the kids." Hill said, picking up the handset on his chair and pointing at the comms officer. The comms officer punched a button at his station and instantly klaxons began to blare out their 'awooogh, awooogh, awooogh' chants. The normal lights of the ship were replaced by harsh red ones and with the toggle of a switch at the helmsman's station, the blast shutters of the Rewloola's bridge clattered down.
The Rewloola was going to battle again.
"This is the Commodore speaking. All hands to battle stations. Set condition one throughout the fleet. Prepare the mobile suits for launch." Hill put the handset down and needlessly straightened his peaked hat. It was perfectly straight and upright on his head already, he knew this. But a soldier's superstition demanded that he adjust his hat before going into battle.
He felt the rumble of the ship as the engines' output was expanded and Hill bore the slight increase in pressure from the acceleration with a veteran's acclimatization.
His message had already been transmitted to the other three ships in the squadron and they mirrored the Rewloola's acceleration.
Once more into the fray and all that nonsense, Hill thought. He wasn't one for overly pithy statements, so he didn't make one. But if he managed to live long enough to be able to write a memoir, that sounded as good a title as any.
"Load the torpedo tubes, fleet wide. And get me telemetry on that testing station, we need to keep it intact!" On to business then.
~~~
Awoogh! Awoogh! Awoogh!
Angelo Sauper did not drink…of his own free will. He hadn't in months. Neither did he do recreational drugs of his own free will and thankfully the last of those had been purged months ago in a crappy hospital located in the depths of the asteroid Palau's city.
He did smoke however. It was in moderation too, so his doctor left him alone about this one vice. Not the dainty feminine smokes that the 'clients' who patronized the 'club' he had 'worked' at preferred either. Angelo would sooner ventilate the back of his head before smelling that sickly sweet fragrance again.
He'd manage to finagle a pack of unfiltered knock offs from the commissary and that was his one vice as a pilot. Angelo understood that this made him a sore thumb in the wider pilot corps. He didn't care. He didn't need the approval of the masses, just one man.
He finished his smoke and snuffed it as he heard the clattering of pilots rushing out of the locker rooms. Angelo sneered. He had been suited up for hours already while the rest of them had been lounging in the ready room.
Well him and one other. Angelo looked over at Zechst Ade, the other member of the Newtype Corps currently assigned to the Rewloola. Angela took some satisfaction in Ade's appearance, he'd managed to get the young twerp looking more like a soldier should.
'Though there is still a long way to go.' He thought. Angelo saw it as his duty to make the wave of new recruits that had joined up with Neo Zeon into soldiers worthy of fighting for the Supreme Commander. For Full Frontal, the Heir of Char.
Some in the ranks called Angelo a zealot behind his back for his outspoken devotion to the Supreme Commander. Angelo didn't give a damn what the old war dogs muttered into their drinks. And they were right too.
Angelo Sauper was a zealot with a cause. The fire of righteous conviction burned in his heart. He had seen the rise of an extraordinary man and the extraordinary vision he championed for mankind. A future where the corrupt and inept burned in the fires of revolution and a more deserving society with a more deserving leader guided them all into prosperity. Angelo knew that Full Frontal was a man worthy of following, a man worthy of his devotion. The only man alive who could make any dream that sought to shape the fabric of the world come true.
The Red Baron had saved Angelo from the mud and blood of indignity once and in that simple act of kindness had won himself a sworn warrior for life. Angelo would fight and kill anyone who got in the way of the better future Full Frontal aimed to make, with his bare hands if necessary.
But it would be far better to kill the Supreme Commander's enemies with an army of competent pilots at his back. So Angelo kept his eye on the new recruits, to see which had the talents for him to headhunt when he had the chance to explain his plan to the Supreme Commander.
His comrade in the Newtype Corps, Zechst Ade, was one of those chosen few. Luger Lugh, that strangely cheery woman and someone he felt was probably his only friend, was another. But she, like Lieutenant Cruz, had a permanent posting already.
Angelo scanned the pilots who tramped into the ready room. Four of them peeled away to their own corner. Angelo paid them no further mind, they were veterans older than him and knew their parts in the attack strategy. It was the eight fairly fresh pilots that Angelo….and Zechst Ade were responsible for shepherding through the upcoming engagement.
Thank God that Angelo as an ace had superiority over Zechst so he was in charge. The satisfaction and awe of having that distinction bestowed on him had yet to fade for Angelo.
"Listen up!" Angelo called out. "We're going to be intercepting Londo Bell forces who are poking around where they aren't wanted. That means we're going to be fighting the 'best' that the Federation has to offer."
He scanned the pilots seeing and feeling the uncurrent of nerves they had. He would not allow them to fail Full Frontal by allowing those nerves to morph into fear.
"But that's what the Federation says! And we know that anything the Federation says is a lie. Right?"
"Right!" The pilots shouted back. Good, they were steadying.
"Our comrades are counting on us to shield their retreat as they carry valuable supplies for our struggle and more importantly the Supreme Commander will be fighting right alongside us. Are we going to let them down by not killing those fed scum?" Angelo half asked-half yelled at the pilots.
"Hell no!" Was the responding cry.
"So we're going out there to kill them all. Just like we did over the Moon. Just like we did in the helium-3 stores at Hatte. And we're going to keep on killing them until our final victory! Do not falter, do not hesitate! You are the chosen hope of our people, you are the ones they pray to save them from tyranny and oppression! Angelo roared at the top of his lungs, the rushing determination and anger from the pilots feeding back into him as an injection of purpose and energy. He could feel it doing the same to everyone else.
"To your mobile suits! To victory! Sieg Zeon! Sieg Full Frontal!" Angelo bolted out the warcry of space.
"Sieg Zeon! Sieg Full Frontal!" The men answered. As they filed past Angelo he took note of two in particular. Cuaron Masuka and Sergei Helfer. He had felt his sixth sense that his words had resonated most with them.
Angelo would remember them and their performance in this battle. If they impressed, he would put them on his list.
"You know Angelo, you can be pretty frightening when you want to be." Zechst softly said next to him. Angelo looked over at his comrade.
"I know." He said in response. Then he remembered an action he had seen the Supreme Commander make while speaking with pilots before a sortie. He clapped a hand onto one of Zechst's shoulders. "Keep an eye out for an opportunity today, Zechst, you might be able to make ace after this."
Zechst stared at him. "You do better with multiple people."
Angelo scoffed but inwardly he felt that Zechst would do just fine now.
Anticipation brewed inside Angelo as the time grew nearer for them to engage Londo Bell. Soon he would fly on a battlefield with Full Frontal again. Soon he would see that great man dance across the battlefield.
Londo Bell wouldn't know what killed them when he took the field. Angelo just hoped to impress again before that happened.
A/N: As a general reminder, Angelo isn't a trustworthy narrator about people's personalities and has a hard time with connections beyond Full Frontal. He is always fun to write though. Cuaron and Sergei are canon royal guard members from unicorn with sergei being the one who dies from getting clipped by the unicorn's beam magnum. Zechst is another canon member of the royal guard.
So obviously things aren't going to plan for Frontal and he thinks might be going to plan for Martha Vist Carbine. They aren't, but she'd never say that out loud. Frontal might also be jumping the gun on calling the cavalry in this quickly from a meta perspective.
Also this Angelo section got away from me and now its almost 1am. Whyyyyy.
But next time we get the opening night reveal of the Sinanju! See you then.
Here we go with SI Full Frontal and his Neo Zeon forces vs Londo Bell coming soon and this is where the fun begins.
I wonder if SI Full Frontal will make a verbal jab at Bright Noa for being a terrible dad to his son Hathaway, who would become Mafty leader in the future, during the communications banter mid-engagement.
I wonder if SI Full Frontal will make a verbal jab at Bright Noa for being a terrible dad to his son Hathaway, who would become Mafty leader in the future, during the communications banter mid-engagement.
MrRobot
In doubt there's always the Sun!
Probably more about how he is both a coward and a quiter that bowed down to federation politicians and let char spiral into the abyss.
SI Full frontal here is closer to memetics char than char ever was afterall.
It'll touch a nerve on Bright when SI Full Frontal compares Londo Bell to the Titans, the very enemy Bright opposed and ends up becoming like them albeit in a smaller scale.
Yeah, and that Mirai was a rich woman. Even if she did leave that life behind than inherit her father's company, she would have left some trust fund or anything for Hathaway and Cheimin, the girl who was never seen post-Char's Counterattack and apparently not involved in her brother's Mafty organization.Ask Bright if he ever asked for a raise so he could get a better apartment for his kids he never visits.
Seriously, is the terrible apartment the Noas have in CCA the best you can afford on a Federation Captain's salary?
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Bright Noa basically only worked against the Federation when they actively beat him up and then tried to have him killed, then slunk back in right after the Titans were defeated like he'd never left during the Axis Zeon conflict, having never changed out of the uniform.
My guess is they're still docking his pay for rebelling against the Federation and he's too much of a "go with the system" guy to do anything but impotently grumble. He does a lot of impotent grumbling in Unicorn.
(Honestly, my biggest pick for why the Gryps Conflict-era rebellion against the Titans and Federation never went anywhere is in addition to the AEUG losing their few genuinely ideological members in exchange for the Bright and Anaheim faction, Karaba got decimated like forty times and lost Hayato, the guy who built a rebel faction of note with much less corporate ties. I'm genuinely curious what Hayato could have achieved if he'd not been killed in the Dublin colony drop operation.)
I thought Bright Noa still kept his uniform during his time at the AEUG where all of its members are allowed to wear whatever they like instead of a unified dress code so long they do their jobs during the Gryps War.Bright Noa basically only worked against the Federation when they actively beat him up and then tried to have him killed, then slunk back in right after the Titans were defeated like he'd never left during the Axis Zeon conflict, having never changed out of the uniform.
My guess is they're still docking his pay for rebelling against the Federation and he's too much of a "go with the system" guy to do anything but impotently grumble. He does a lot of impotent grumbling in Unicorn.
(Honestly, my biggest pick for why the Gryps Conflict-era rebellion against the Titans and Federation never went anywhere is in addition to the AEUG losing their few genuinely ideological members in exchange for the Bright and Anaheim faction, Karaba got decimated like forty times and lost Hayato, the guy who built a rebel faction of note with much less corporate ties. I'm genuinely curious what Hayato could have achieved if he'd not been killed in the Dublin colony drop operation.)
Ironically, it took the unjust illegal execution of his son Hathaway for Bright to finally open his eyes and quit the Federation for real and also take part of the reborn Mafty organization as well.
Hayato might have probably take the reigns of the AEUG and Karaba, combining the two groups together into one new organization and its name will be known as... Katharon.
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I mean it says something about Bright he shows up to a place that's permanent Casual Friday after his previous job turned out to be a bunch of facists and he still doesn't wear like a Hawaiian shirt once. Humongous stick in the mud.