BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Some adjustments have been made to the end of the chapter, mainly relating as to how Kajima lives to fight another day. It's down below if you don't want to go hunting for it in the chapter.
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A Full Frontal Assault: A Gundam Unicorn SI
- Thread starter BalerionTheDrake
- Start date
Looks pretty good and I look forward for the After Action Report from Kajima when meeting Bright at the end of the battle they lost to SI Full Frontal.
MrRobot
In doubt there's always the Sun!
It makes more sense since it can't be seen as FF randomly sparing the guy ( albeit the prior vesions was fine-ish, just the pressure on his back making a vit risky for double tap).
But again FF is not like the protagonist of space mecha redshirt that would just murrder any possible rival.
But again FF is not like the protagonist of space mecha redshirt that would just murrder any possible rival.
I do hope SI Full Frontal will meet the Neo AEUG under a good disguise and alias, and see if they can recruit Banagher Links and obtain Unicorn Gundam for him to pilot.
So Banagher will be the Second Coming of Kamille Bidan just like Full Frontal being the Second Coming of Char Aznable.
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Full Frontal is the Neo AEUG. He set it up and is the one to bring the major Neo AEUG factions(Riah Seperatists, New Desides and the proto Cosmo Babylonians onboard)
I see, and I was actually referring to Full Frontal checking out with Neo AEUG of how things are going there since we've seen most scenes of Full Frontal interacting with members of Neo Zeon, which they are cool to see he has good rapport with them.
Such as possibly meeting former Gundam Team members from ZZ and any other surviving AEUG members from Zeta, who didn't rejoin the Federation, being now part of the Neo AEUG.
And wow, New Desides are former Titans if I recall. How very ironic of them to be part of the Neo AEUG.
Then again, the Titans Remnants did align themselves with Zeon out of desperation after the Federation finally drop them like hot potatoes post-Char's Dakar Speech.
Chapter 32
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Chapter 32
~~~U.C. 0095.1.1 0001 EOST
The Garden of Thorns, Loum Debris Field, L4
~~~
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
The tinny chords of Auld Lang Syne started pounding out of the speakers that had been hastily assembled in the mess hall. Confetti flew about wildly as a floating disco ball spun above us. At the front of the mess hall, two Geara Dogas had been placed for the ceremonies. Aside from the absurdly large party hats that had been fitted onto their heads, a white tarp with "Happy New Year! Seig Zeon!" spanned the gap between them.
I looked down, smiling at the happy faces and raucous enjoyment on everyone's faces. Couples were still giving each other the first kiss of the new year, while being cheered on by those around them. Some were taking a wilder approach to welcoming the new year. I raised an eyebrow at the troop of women that started enticing men to do body shots off them.
I toasted them with the red solo cup I had pressed into my hand at some point, and took a sip of it. Oof that was sweet.
"Three cheers for the Supreme Commander!" Someone shouted from the crowd below.
"Hurrah!"
I laughed and toasted the crowd.
"Enjoy the celebrations, you've all more than earned it!" I replied. "Here's to a new year of continued victories for Neo Zeon and all spacenoids! But first! Eat, drink and party! That's an order now!"
"Yes sir!" They bellowed out and eagerly went back to the partying. I chuckled and turned away from the balcony.
"A nice celebration sir, though I feel compelled to mention that productivity will be lower than needed for the next few days." Hill Dawson said as he saw me approach the knot of people standing about that he was a part of. Said people being Neo Zeon's high command structure. "And medical facilities will undoubtedly be strained as a result."
"Then it's a good thing everyone has tomorrow off as well." I reminded the commodore.
"Yes, well.." Dawson took a sip of tea. "That's not true for everyone now is it?"
I shrugged in acceptance. "True, true. The companies on watch and patrol aren't having an easy night. But they'll get their day off when the watch rotation kicks in and we made sure they got good food tonight as well."
"I was actually thinking about myself." Dawson sighed. "My desk is covered in duty rosters that need to be done tomorrow."
"Ah. Well. Nothing can be done about that." I told him honestly. The frankness caused those around us to start laughing.
Dawson sighed again. "Then it's best I get some sleep before the morning. Good night everyone."
As Dawson departed, his greatcoat swishing slightly behind him, I turned to Zinnerman with a question.
"Is Marida at the party?"
Zinnerman tugged at his wild beard and took a deep drink from his beer bottle, annoyance on his face. "Not this one. That Newtype Corps of yours is having its own celebration, she got dragged into it."
I took another drink to conceal my smile. Zinnerman was obviously not pleased that his adopted daughter was growing up so fast. I could tell him that the Newtype Corps party would likely be tamer than the party down below but Zinnerman didn't look to be in the mood to hear that.
Nanai Miguel put on a comforting smile and patted Zinnerman's shoulder in sympathy. "Marida is a responsible young woman, Suberoa. She'll be fine."
"Hrmmm." Zinnerman grunted and drank more beer. Nanai and I exchanged amused looks while Major Rivieria Silk ate more finger food. The ranking officer of the Attack Force never was all that concerned with anything non-combat related.
"As Nanai said." I put in my own two cents then looked at the time. A couple of minutes into the new year. "Well I'll leave for the rest of the night. Plenty of things to do in the morning like Hill said. Good night everyone and happy new year."
"Happy new year sir." Nanai, Suberoa and Riveria said. I toasted them on my way on, draining the last dregs of the cocktail and trashing the red solo cup in a trash can as I walked deeper into the Garden of Thorns.
My footsteps echoed eerily in the empty hallways. Everyone was clustered in mess halls and bunkrooms for the celebrations, and if they were on duty then they'd be around the docks. A good amount of kilometers away. Here in the colony section of the Garden of Thorns, I was completely alone. Even the lights had been darkened to near emergency power levels so that we could reduce the strain on the electrical grid.
Time consuming but worth it in my opinion. As I rounded a corner I saw the tram station I had been looking for. Hopping into the cart, I punched in my destination and sat down in the plastic chair, watching the tunnel whizz by. I closed my eyes and thought about my upcoming schedule for the day.
Do this quick stop, then head to bed. Wake up five hours later for a planning session with other AEUG Member Heads, followed by training then drilling with the mobile suit corp. Lunch, meetings with the captains of the fleet with intelligence reports from Zinnerman. Then I had free time, which really meant I'd be dealing with anything that came up during the day that hadn't been on the schedule. The day ended with more training and drilling.
The tram chimed as I arrived at my destination. The map on the tram told me that I was firmly in the depths of the manufacturing sector of the base.
I stepped out of the tram and was greeted by several automated turrets aiming right at me. I stayed still and handed over my ID card to one of the two visible guards at the checkpoint. I knew there were more soldiers nearby, controlling the automated turrets and the many cameras that had been installed at this particular station.
"You're cleared sir." The guard returned my ID card after verifying it in the system. As he did that, the other guard flipped the lever that he was standing next to. I heard the grinding of gears as the hanger style doors slowly retracted inwards.
"Thank you, private." I said. "Happy New Year to both of you."
"And to you sir."
I walked into the pitch black of the chamber, turned right and briefly groped along the wall in order to find the room's light panel. Finding the right button, I pressed it.
In pairs, the chamber's floodlights snapped to life, illuminating the room in harsh white light. I blinked rapidly to clear the black spots from my vision before taking in the chamber.
I was not alone. Far from it.
Made up like they were in parade formation, two blocks of twenty five mobile suits faced each other, each block made up of five mobile suits. Each mobile suit, painted dark green with white lines accenting the various parts of the body. The signature black cuffs of my Neo Zeon had also been painted to the mobile suits arms. However the suits lacked any rank signifiers. They'd yet to be assigned to a pilot.
Their optics were dark, inactive, and their hands were empty of any weapons. I could smell the lingering odor of paint in the air.
I smiled as I took in the wonderful sight again. This was not the first late night visit I had made to this chamber since the completion of the first production run in December. It probably wouldn't be the last.
"How wonderful you turned out, Geara Zulu." I said to the nearest mobile suit. The stahlhelm designed head, the elongated, gas-mask like sensors on the face of the mobile suit, the bulky spiked shoulders, and the faux-exposed power cables that bracketed the face and hugged the waist.
The AMS-129 Geara Zulu had finally arrived into the world. And he was perfect in my perfectly biased opinion. In another world among a different Zeon, he'd had been cut back in function and capability. Compromises would have been made at the altar of cost-efficiency. Perfectly understandable and it had taken a lot of sweat, debt and political promises in order for me to not have to make the cost-saving alterations.
But I had managed it, and now the results spoke for themselves. The Geara Zulu was a mobile suit purpose built for my Neo Zeon. It was made to fight on the frontlines of a war unlike its predecessor the Geara Doga, which Char had commissioned as an interceptor style mobile suit to meet the demands of his short asteroid drop missions. Now the Geara Zulu would replace the Geara Doga as the line mobile suit in my forces, while the specialized mobile suits like the Zaku III, Dreissen and Zssa continued in their existing roles.
The haphazard R&D team I had inherited from Char had even incorporated the scavenged gundarium from Axis into the Geara Zulu. Not much, mind you, but it was my hope that the added gundarium around the cockpit would increase pilot survivability. Other than that addition, we were still using the same titanium alloy ceramic composite used in the Geara Doga for the mobile suit's armor.
Fifty Geara Zulus had been produced in the first production run last month, and once the new model beam machine guns were delivered from Anaheim this week, the second production run could begin in earnest. Fifty mobile suits a month was the minimum. I hoped that come March the industrial crews would have both worked out any kinks in the assembly line and become familiar with the production process to get us up to seventy mobile suits a month without resorting to excessive overtime.
I walked down the middle of the chamber, taking in the towering mobile suits. Twenty meters tall sounded a bit small until you were next to it. I peered at the back of a Geara Zulu and was pleased to see that the mechanics had been able to mount the thruster backpacks already. With a few tweaks, the backpack of the Geara Doga had been able to make the transition to being the standard backpack for the Geara Zulu.
I reached the end of the mobile suits and spun around on my heels.
Reactors and panoramic cockpits from Anaheim Electronics, thrusters and electronics from the Buch Concern, manpower from the AEUG and the materials provided by Neo Zeon. If I thought about it for a minute, it was staggering that I had managed to pull so many fingers into the pie that was Neo Zeon's newest mobile suit.
But we needed more, far more. I felt my determination burn brighter inside me. I had come this far, and I'd go as far as I had to in order to win.
More mobile suits required more warships to bring them into battle. The keels of eight Musakas had been laid down since the middle of last year and were gradually being built. Slow going when put up against the comparable speed with which we could build mobile suits, but a ship was far more complicated. The Loum Debris Field provided plenty of salvageable metal to be fed to the forges and the Buch Concern was able to funnel their own metals our way. Hopefully all eight would be ready to leave the drydocks in March.
Neo Zeon was the only AEUG organization building up either. The Riah Restoration Movement had converted two dozen light freighters into cruisers while they slowly built their own Musakas. I didn't know much about the RRM's industrial abilities or processes, and I didn't want to know. I trusted Pepe Menegamon's reports.
Neuer Mann and his New Desides, I had less trust in. But they'd reported that they had five Musakas of their own under construction below Aires City.
Ronah Meitzer's faction of the Buch Concern had been given the Musaka-class designs but I'd yet to hear if they had begun construction of their own vessels. I could vaguely remember that they had their own fleet when the Crossbone Vanguard made their move originally but who knew how long they'd taken to design those ships.
The mobile suit front was much clearer, thankfully. Anaheim Electronic made Nemo IIIs like they'd been contracted to and delivered them regularly to the RRM and New Desides. Neo Zeon continued to have the largest mobile suit force. For the moment those of us who made the decisions for the AEUG had decided it was more important that our groups had a large base of trained mobile suit pilots before we focused on expanding mobile suit numbers.
Neo Zeon was already in this position, the Riah Restoration Movement was close to making the jump to unit expansion and New Desides was still in their recruiting phase.
As I stared back at the closed chamber doors, flanked by my mobile suits standing inert in their parade formation, I had to acknowledge that there was one glaring absence in my coalition: Zeon.
Being the Republic of Zeon of course. Or Side 3 if you were feeling geographic. Neo Zeon had contacts with them, back before my birth in 0093, but according to everyone on my side those contacts had fallen silent over the past year.
I had vague suspicions about why that might have happened but a gut feeling continued to tell me that now was not the right time to reach out to the factions within the Republic that were bent towards my way of thinking. They existed, my knowledge and the historical record attested to that. Groups that wished for the continued existence of an independent Zeon state.
The military of Zeon, I had to assume, contributed heavily to these groups. The Republic had been able to maintain much of its military strength following the One Year War. While they couldn't produce modern mobile suits, their Navy kept pace with the Federation. It helped that warship development moved at a glacial pace compared to mobile suits.
The support of the Republic, formally or informally, was critical to my long term plans. But how should I go about approaching them, and when?
Questions, questions, questions.
~~~
U.C. 0095.2.13
Governor-General's Palace, Palau
~~~
Mineva Lao Zabi, Princess of Zeon and forcibly styled Sovereign of Side 3, was bored. To be fair, she was in the middle of her afternoon classes and it should be assumed that any fifteen year old teenager, no matter how studious they were, would share in her boredom.
But while other teenage girls would be able to get away with not paying attention in class, Mineva did not have that luxury.
"Princess." The whip of her tutor's stern voice broke Mineva out of her daydreaming. She looked up from her desk to see her history tutor looking down at her with disapproval.
"Yes sir?" She said, keeping a blank face.
The tutor, Mr. Cranscholk, frowned. "Is this lesson boring you?"
"No sir."
Mr. Cranscholk frowned deeper. "Is that so? So you've been paying the utmost attention to this lesson and not at all doodling on your desk?"
Mineva belatedly swiped at the sheet of tablet-paper she had been making her idle scribbles on. Those disappeared and were replaced with her actual notes. Mineva quickly looked at the holoboard and the mass of notes Mr. Cranscholk had on it then she looked back at her notes. They did not match what was on the board.
"Yes sir." She replied.
Her tutor did not believe her but unfortunately she was who she was and even a tutor couldn't directly call her a liar. But he had other ways of telling her what he thought.
"Indeed." Mr. Cranscholk shrugged and turned back towards the holoboard. With the flick of a wrist, he erased the notes from the screen. "Then you should have no problem summarizing the impact of the Sides Reorganization Act on the development of anti-Federation resistance groups in the late 0080s."
Mineva blinked her green eyes at the blank holoboard and unconsciously swept a strand of orange hair out of her eyes.
"Well?" Mr. Cranscholk looked back at her with an impatient expression.
Mineva schooled her face into blank disinterest and prepared for her weekly political argument with her tutors.
"The Sides Reorganization Act was implemented by the Federation Assembly in the spring legislative session of 0084. This resulted in…."
After another unsuccessful debate with her tutor, Mineva was dismissed from lessons for today. Governor Mengamon was a friendly man and in most things, very accommodating to her requests. But he was a stickler for education and refused to budge on the extensive and comprehensive education plan he had assigned to Mineva.
Her "guardian" had impressed upon Governor Mengamon that Mineva's higher education was to be her sole focus for the time being. So she had spent her days since last year ensconced with tutors in every subject Governor Mengamon decided a high society lady like her needed to be a master of. A part of Mineva was happy with the arduous curriculum. It reminded her of better days on Axis, before the war. The rest of her was old enough to understand that this was Full Frontal's way of keeping her out of his way.
That warmonger had the gall to act concerned about her education, concerned about her. It made Mineva furious. That man had no right, none at all. He was everything she hated in the universe. Careless violence for a goal not worth killing for.
As Mineva left her classroom, two guards fell in step behind her. That was another old callback to Axis but Mineva could feel the difference between then and now. Back then the guards had been protecting her, now they were watching her. She was sure that every movement she made was reported back to Full Frontal. She was very sure that if she toe'd the unspoken line she walked along, she would be harshly put back in line.
Her guards also changed regularly now. They had been the same back then, drawn from the survivors of the elite units that protected the Principality's royal family. She had known those men and women her whole life and could pick any one of them out in a crowd with ease. She was hard pressed to remember the names of her guards now.
Still, Marida and Mr. ZInnerman were semi-regular visitors in her life. The unlikely pair made an effort to visit her whenever their assignments took them to Palau. The rest of time she believed was spent at the new base that Full Frontal had established for Neo Zeon. A base she had deliberately not been told the location of. For her own security and that of the base, of course.
Mineva arrived in her room and tossed her school supplies onto her bed. Then she changed out of her clothes into a more utilitarian sweater and pants combo with thick boots instead of the sneakers she had been wearing.
"I'm ready to go." She told the guards after leaving her room again. She had other things to do today before homework.
"Right this way Princess."
Mineva was taken to a tram station underneath the palace. There were others on this section of the settled asteroid Palau's government resided, where the daily traffic came and went. This tram was used when security was the priority and Mineva could not convince anyone that she didn't. For a few short minutes Mineva and her guards rode the tram, traveling through the alien rock that human hands had carved into a home in the depths of space to Palau's working neighborhood.
Located right behind Palau's primary spaceport, it was the rough and tumble neighborhood for the asteroid. Dockworkers and their families lived hard scrabble lives right next door to seedy bars, gambling dens, opium dens and whore houses. The recent investments of Imago Trading into Palau's docks had brought much needed income and new jobs to Palau but people still needed a helping hand.
Mineva's guards peeled off as she approached the single story building with 'SALVATION ARMY' painted above its doors in bold white paint. It was old and the artificial lighting of the habitation block's sun rod didn't do it any favors. But it was sturdy, like most things the first wave of human colonization had constructed. Mineva had no doubt that this building would outlive her.
The warmth of the interior greeted her as she entered the foyer. She walked up to the makeshift receptionist desk, where a matronly woman was writing away at a ledger.
"Hello Mrs. Riddeman." Mineva said cheerfully. The woman's head rose and a smile blossomed on her face as she took Mineva in.
"Why hello there Audrey." Mrs. Riddleman said. "Right on time, as usual."
"You know me, Mrs. Riddleman. Always eager to get my hands dirty." Mineva, or rather Audrey Burnes to these people, said.
"I certainly wish my children had half your work ethic Audrey. I really do." Mrs. Riddleman shook her head and consulted a sheet of paper on her desk. "Looks like you're in the kitchen today. Gloves, apron and hairnet are next to the sink. Be sure to wash with hot water and disinfectant soap now."
"Of course mam." Mineva walked towards the kitchen and she had to smile to herself. She was constrained for the moment but here she could help people. And every little bit counted. As for the rest of it? That would come in time.
~~~
U.C. 0095.2.26
Garom, Musaka-class cruiser
In transit to Side 6, Moore
~~~
Angelo Sauper was being annoyed. He did not like being annoyed.
"Angeloooooo!" A finger poked him repeatedly in the cheek.
Angelo continued to stare at the performance reports. He would not give in.
"Angelooo!" The finger continued to poke.
Angelo valiantly went to the next page of the report and started reading the helium-3 consumption graphs.
"Angelo!"
"What?!" Angelo slammed the tablet down and jerked his head over to look incredulously at Luger Lugh. The pinkette was floating flat in the bunkroom, like she was lying on her stomach on a bed, one hand extended with a finger ready to poke at him.
Luger blinked her mismatched eyes and smiled. "I'm bored."
"You're bored?" He asked.
"Yep. Bored." She cheerfully said.
Angelo sneered. "Good."
Luger squawked in disbelief and twisted her body around so that she had her feet on the floor again. "How is it a good thing that I'm bored Angelo?"
"That mean's nothing is happening. And that means I have plenty of time to finish reading." Angelo picked the tablet back up and gestured at the report on the screen.
Luger scoffed and put her hands on her hips.
"You are such a bore." She said. "That's not even an interesting one. At least read an AAR."
"This is about the new models Luger." Angelo defended his choice in reading. "We need to be familiar with them."
Luger blithely shrugged and kicked off the floor, going back to floating about Angelo's head. Angelo absently swatted a few strands of Luger's waist long pink hair away from his face.
"Besides I already read that, so did you. Why are you reading it again?" Luger asked.
"To make sure I'm familiar with it." Angelo replied, scrolling to the next page. "The Supreme Commander might want a summary of it."
"He has people for that." Luger waved Angelo's words away. Literally, she waved her hand towards the door.
"And those people aren't us." Angelo replied. "We have a valuable perspective for the Supreme Commander, otherwise he wouldn't have created the Newtype Corps."
"Then you should get in the simulator again. Or one of the test units back at base." Luger suggested
"Already have. As I said, it helps to be familiar."
Luger sighed. "And I'm still bored. Why don't you ever do anything interesting Angelo?"
Angelo smiled slightly, not that Luger could see it. "I do plenty of interesting things, Luger. Just not with you."
"Oh?" Luger rotated so that she was staring down at Angelo. "Is that a confession I hear?"
Angelo shook his head. "No, just that I don't bring you along to my interesting things."
"Like what?"
Angelo rolled his eyes. "I go out for drinks with the other Guards every week. At that bar on the thirty-second level."
"The one that's made out of steel crates?" Luger incredulously asked/
"Yep."
"Angelo, that place is a dump."
"It's got character. And it's the first place I got a drink at when we moved into the base."
"Ughhh. Men."
Speaking of.
"Isn't that ensign you like, Manfredi, on this ship? Go spend time with him." The 'and get out of my hair' part went unsaid.
Luger made a noise of anger and disgust. Angelo looked up to see her scowling and one of her eyes was twitching erratically.
"Apparently…I am not his type." She forced out through clenched teeth.
"Really?"
"Really! Really really! I'm not his type! Can you believe that Angelo? I'm not his type!" Luger shouted in anger. "I mean really! Look at me. I'm hot!"
Angelo and Luger were both wearing their pilot suits. They weren't on the hot seat at the moment, so they were able to wear them loosely. Angelo had the upper half of his suit tied off at his waist, revealing the white tank top he wore underneath. Luger had unzipped her suit down the waist, showing off her lithe and supple torso, and the drab military issued sports bra she wore underneath. Angelo noted that her abs were very well defined.
"You are hot." He agreed with Luger. She nodded in agreement, visibly pleased, and opened her mouth to say something else before Angelo cut her off. "Must be your personality then."
"What?!" Luger squawked.
"You heard me." Angelo slyly said. "Your personality must be what drove him away."
Now Luger's right eyebrow was twitching erratically. "You jerk Angelo."
Angelo shrugged. "That's why you love me."
"Ha, as if. I'd tear my hair out within a day if we were together. A workaholic like you and a hot piece of ass like myself? It would never work." Luger floated down to Angelo's level again, arms now crossed behind her head.
Angelo made a note about the sensor array on the Geara Zulu he wanted to follow up on with the technicians, and scrolled to the next page. "Then why are you complaining to me about Manfredi instead of going to find another guy who wants you. You are a 'hot piece of ass' after all. Any man should fall over himself for you."
"I know right." Luger agreed with him, ignoring Angelo's sarcasm. "But everyone I can think of is off the table."
Angelo rolled his eyes. Luger was a ditz at times, surely she was forgetting available bachelors to chase her.
"What about Carson on the Rewloola? The gunner with blonde hair?"
"Hmmm, no. He's an item with Emiko currently." Angelo knew from several discussions that Luger had forced on him early in their friendship that Emiko was one of Luger's old friends. They had served with Lieutenant Commander Banham before joining up with Neo Zeon again.
"Oka then. Raphael, pilot from the sixth team. The one with green hair."
"Our color palettes would clash horribly. Pass."
"Akiro, on the supply corp. The forklift operator with the ear piercing. He's got muscle."
"Ew no. I'm a pilot Angelo. I can't be seen going out with a supply corps guy. My reputation would be down the drain."
"You got rejected by Manfredi." Angelo reminded her. "The guy chases anything that has swaying hips."
Luger grumbled. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Hey, maybe try working on that personality angle."
Luger swatted at his head. Angelo looked up from the tablet to glare at her.
"Like really? That's so totes not my style." Luger said, playing up the valley girl.
"Not your best work." Angelo said.
Luger frowned. "Yeah, not my best."
"Try pursing the lips more." Angelo suggested. "So the looks match the voice."
"I'll think about it." Luger looked over at him. "And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Please Angelo, you need to find yourself a girl." Angelo shot her a look. "Oh so you can chastise me about my man troubles but I can't do the same."
Angelo nodded. "Yeah."
"Boooring." Luger had a teasing gleam in her mismatched eyes. "What about that redhead Sarah from the twelfth team?"
"Cuaron's chasing her."
"Oh good for him, they'd make a nice couple. Uh, what about Vittoria, that ensign from the Claxon?"
"Not my type."
"Fine. Umm, Isabella from the third team?"
Angelo raised his eyebrows in amusement. "She's twice my age."
"You know what they say about older women. Cougars, all of them."
"Yeah right."
"Okay then. Alia, brunette from Headquarters. The secretary."
"Nah, too focused on her hips."
"Huh?" Luger looked at him, confused.
"That's all she shows off. Means it's her only asset she thinks is worth showing off. Means she's insecure."
Luger pouted. "Man, you have impossible standards."
"That's rich coming from you."
Luger laughed. It was a nice laugh, rich and free.
"Well aren't we two peas in a pod?"
Now it was Angelo's turn to laugh. "Guess we are."
Luger floated over to the bunk opposite Angelo. "So. You know why we're heading to Moore? Not much of anything over there as far as I know."
Angelo could only offer her a shrug. "I don't know but the Supreme Commander wouldn't go there if it wasn't worth the effort. We'll have to wait and see."
Luger made a noise of agreement and started fiddling with her nails.
"Want to go down to the simulators? This report is boring."
"I told you!"
~~~
Several Hours Later
~~~
It was raining shell casings and the walls were on fire. My ears were ringing from the explosion and my thoughts felt sluggish. I watched as my bodyguards slowly charged across the room, guns blazing away.
I looked down at the shard of metal protruding from my left side. Red was quickly spreading down my side and I could faintly feel other pinpricks of pain across my left side.
A feeling made me look up and to the left, just in time to see a man charging at me. He was wearing slacks and a button up shirt with brown loafers to complete the office drone look. The belt of explosives tied around his waist did not fit however.
My hearing rushed back to me, the deafening cacophony of shouting, screaming and gunfire feeling like a stake being driven into my head. But I could hear what the crazed looking man was shouting.
"For the Moore Brotherhood!"
Well this wasn't going according to plan.
A/N: Nothing ever goes to plan eh? We're starting off 0095 with a bang and I don't plan on stopping. Mineva's still around, in case you forgot about her. She's doing things, while planning…stuff. And Angelo continues to be socially interacted with. Will wonders ever cease? The Geara Zulu has officially entered the arena as well, right on schedule with the new Jegan variant. Surely this was not planned by Anaheim. See everyone next time
Those guys are from Gundam Thunderbolt led by the guy who likes jazz, Io Fleming during the One Year War. I wonder if that guy is still around alive and kicking or the Moore Brotherhood are on their own.
Either way, SI Full Frontal will have to deal with the Moore Brotherhood. Perhaps through the Neo AEUG to give them their chance to kick ass after building them up with new members, mobile suits, weapons and ships, etc.
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
More will be revealed next chapter about how Full Frontal got into this situation. But I'll say that this Moore Brotherhood and the one that sponsored its own division during the One Year War are not direct continuations.
I see and I look forward to it. This is gonna be fun to see SI Full Frontal end up encountering the Moore Brotherhood and a fight ensues.
Happy April Fool's Day by the way.
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Woo April Fools Day.
On a Monday
And its rent Monday for me.
Huh
Boo April Fools Day. Boo I say
Chapter 33
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Chapter 33
Two Hours Earlier…
"It's important to remember that the individuals we're meeting are used to being afforded a certain type of respect." Suberoa Zinnerman reminded me, not for the first time today. "They're wired differently. Not used to our ways. We don't want to come in too hot this first meeting, otherwise they're likely to get cold feet and go dark on us."
I glanced over at him. "And now you're going to tell me not to go in too cold also, otherwise they won't respect me."
"Ha, he's got you there captain." Flaste Schole, Zinnerman's right hand man, chimed in. Sitting next to him, Gilboa Saint, the Garencieres pilot, chuckled at the remark.
Zinnerman rolled his eyes. "Keep your eyes on the colony." He ordered before leaning back uneasily in his captain's chair. I was sitting to his left in one of the bridge's jump seats.
"I understand Captain Zinnerman." I told my head of intelligence. "These are prickly men with an overstated opinion of their self worth and importance in the world. We go in, introduce ourselves, tell them what we're looking to purchase from them, let them tell us a price and then say we need time to discuss it and we'll be in touch. Simple."
"Simple." Zinnerman grunted and I saw him stroke his wild beard with one hand.
"Simple. Just another business transaction." I said. "We'll be treated like kings too, they're going to wine and dine us to our stomach's content if half of what I've read is true."
"Oh yeah sir?" Flaste Schole shot over his shoulder. "Think we can tag along for some grub. It would sure beat rations."
"Sorry Flaste." I joked back. "I already RSVP'd with my plus one. Maybe next time."
"Ha, yes sir."
I floated out of the jump seat and moved over to Zinnerman. I grabbed his shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear.
"Come with me." He grunted and got out of his own chair. I waited until we were out of earshot of the bridge before asking the question.
"Is everything alright Suberoa?"
Zinnerman grunted and was silent for a few moments before responding.
"Feels…strange to fall into bed with the mafia." He eventually said. "Different from the other groups we've been dealing with. Anaheim and the Buch Concern. They were…solid."
"Understandable." I nodded. "Relatable. Us and the companies move in the same circle. The same with our friends on the Moon and Riah. Our goals all intersect and even converge. There's… a codependency among us that no one's going to completely sever. And the Moore Mafia is different."
"Yes. They are."
I clapped Zinnerman on the shoulder. "I agree. Zeon fights for a cause, always. Gangsters always worship at the altar of money and play at being loyal to something greater than themselves. But our situation demands that we give every offer our complete attention."
Zinnerman shot me a look. "Now you're just repeating what I told you earlier."
I grinned. "Can't improve on perfect you know."
Zinnerman shrugged slightly in acceptance. "Still, I have a bad feeling about this."
"Then we'll wear vests under our jackets and you'll tell your men to have a finger on the trigger at all times." I clapped Zinnerman on the shoulder again before stepping away. "And let's not forget that we have Marida and her Kshatriya as our last line of defense until the fleet could reach us."
The reminder that Zinnerman had his maybe-daughter waiting in the wings to come to his rescue did seem to cheer the burly man up as he went back to the bridge. Though I doubted he would have liked the mental image I had of Marida being his knight in shining armor and him the helpless maiden. Funny though. I did have to wonder how Marida's personal development was proceeding. I'd mostly left her with Zinnerman, while I had spent time…I guess mentoring Angelo into being close to a normal person.
Marida had turned out just fine with Zinnerman and his crew without outside interference in one timeline, I was sure she'd be the same now. She seemed to be positive towards me, I think. Though that might just be her version of formality and obeisance to higher authority. I knew she got to go to more places than she might have overwise, so that had to be a net positive.
The Garenceieres pulled into the spaceport of Colony Moore. Moore had been the first colony constructed in Side 4, as it was called then. It had been destroyed in the One Year War and had been the first colony reconstructed in the post war period. Moore continued to serve as the capital for Side 4, now renamed to Side 6 by the Federation as part of their attempts in the 0080s to stamp down on independence sentiments in the colonies. The Side was still called Moore, so we were arriving in Moore, Moore if one wanted to be overly technical.
A lot of money and resources had been poured into rebuilding Moore, both this colony and the side as a whole. And where there's money on the move, crime swiftly follows in its wake. Organized crime had surged into the new Moore and quickly taken root. Side 6 was well known to have a crime problem these days and in the mess of reconstruction, the Mafia had become the top dog of the criminal world.
They had reached out to Zinnerman via a complicated series of intermediaries with a simple and enticing offer: military equipment. In exchange Neo Zeon would only need to provide cash and a favor or two in return.
I had reviewed the offer. The price was far below what we were getting from Meitzer Ronah's faction of the Buch Concern. Anaheim's highway robbery wasn't worth mentioning. But the unspoken assumption was that these favor's the mafia was asking for would be utilizing the might of my Neo Zeon in their criminal undertakings.
Bizarrely, for all the heinous deeds I had ordered and taken part in, the mere thought of allowing my men and my mobile suits to be used as tools by criminal lowlifes like the Mafia…filled my mouth with sourness and I had a sudden urge to spit. I didn't like this.
But I had an obligation, I felt, to my Neo Zeon and even the AEUG that demanded that I pursue every advantage possible. Supply lines were hungry beasts.
As we landed in the colony and met our shadowy friends, I couldn't shake the ominous feeling that was clinging to my thoughts. When our party reached the meeting place, a bar deep in the colony's industrial sector, that nearly unidentifiable feeling of something not being right only increased.
We tramped into the bar, Zinnerman's men going in first, we found it fairly full. The bar itself had three bartenders manning it and along the opposite wall stood a dozen or so waiters. The staff was dressed in the type of vest and bowtie affair you'd see in far fancier places than this.
Clustered around the bar was the Moore Mafia. They looked the part. Slicked backed hair, roman noses, each man adorned with a plethora of gold chains, bracelets and rings. Baggy clothes, sweaters and sweatpants, on some, while I could see blazers over turtlenecks for men who might be ranking members of the Mafia. Overall? If I was a normal person on the street and I saw one of these men, I'd peg him as a likely criminal.
We didn't look that much better, wearing bulky trenchcoats and bomber jackets(I was wearing a black and red one) to conceal our kevlar vests and guns. But as I looked from group to group, I could see that the stiffness in my men's stances, the way they held themselves suggested military training.
"Ah if it isn't my friends in green!" One of the bulky men in blazers stood up to greet us. He spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture and smirked at us. "Knew our offer was too good to pass up eh?"
From the way his fellows started chuckling at his words, we were the butt of some joke.
"Come in, come in." The same man gestured at the empty tables in the bar. "Pull out a chair, take a load off, we're all friends here eh?"
Zinnerman nodded the men forward and we filtered into the bar. Zinnerman and I walked up to the group of mafioso's the speaker was a part of. Our men, split into duos and trios, surrounded us in a protective detail. I watched as the mafioso's thugs did the same, but in a far more sloppy manner than my soldiers.
"I am Full Frontal." I said loudly to the bar. "You've said you have a…business opportunity for me."
"A direct man." The same mafioso replied. "Something we can all appreciate. But I believe introductions are in order first. You, Full Frontal, are the type of man who needs no further introductions."
"If you say so." I gestured to Zinnerman on my right. "This is Captain Suberoa Zinnerman, the head of my intelligence department. You arranged this meeting with him."
"Sure you don't have any Italian in you, Captain Zinnerman? I could make you for one of Paulie's cousins!" One of the sitting mafioso's butted in.
"Heyo!" This seemed to be another well known joke among the Moore Mafia, because they all started laughing.
"I don't think so." Zinnerman replied with a frown.
"Eh too bad. But, introductions!" The speaking mafioso clapped his hands. "Right next to me is Ralph Maggio, over there with the cigarette is Marcellus D'Amprezzo, next to him is his brother Paulie D'Amprezzo, opposite Ralph is Micky Cloister."
The mafiosos waved, nodded and said 'sup.' as they were introduced.
"And you are?" I asked.
"Donny Smalls." He said with a grin. He had a fake gold tooth in his smile. "Now all of us are the uh…capos of our organization. Captains. Kinda like your man Zinnerman here."
I glanced over quickly and confirmed my gut feeling that Zinnerman wasn't pleased with the comparison.
"We all know each other now, so let's hear your offer." I said, pulling out a chair. Before I could sit down, Donny Smalls interjected.
"I don't know how you Zeon types do business, but among my people we eat first, then discuss business." He shrugged in a 'what can you do?" manner. "It's a tradition."
"You are our hosts." I admitted. "What's on the menu?"
I still hadn't sat down. Zinnerman mirrored me along with the rest of the men. The mafia men were lazily slouched in their seats, bosses and muscle men alike. They were confident, cocky even. Why not? We had walked into their colony and then wandered into their place of business, as they saw it. I suddenly saw that they considered this a done deal. We'd bow to their demands because that was what my kind had been doing since the end of the One Year War, compromising our position due to necessity.
That made me angry, I realized.
"We got a whole spread." Donny Smalls assured me as he retook his seat and lit up a cigar. After taking a few puffs, he twisted in his seat to look at one of the waiters. "But uh, Charlie here knows the whole spread. Why don't you tell him, Charlie?"
The waiter, balding and with a tiny mustache that made him look like he was out of a period piece, walked up to the mafioso's table with a small paper menu in his hands.
"Yes, Mr. Smalls. We have a fine spread prepared for tonight. But first, my boss wanted me to pass along this message to you, Mr. Smalls. A message of thanks for your long years of patronage to our catering service." Charlie tucked one hand into the pocket of his waistcoat as he spoke.
"Very well, but hurry up will ya? I'm starving." Marcellus D'Amprezzo said.
Charlie the waiter smiled. "Of course Mr. D'Amprezzo. It's a short message."
He cleared his throat and looked over the mafiosos. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. Goosebumps rushed up my arms and that feeling of hyperalertness, of danger nearby, I had often felt in the depths of battle rushed up.
"You are a blight upon the lands of Holy Moore!" Charlie the waiter shouted. "You must all be purged from her! In the name of the Moore Brotherhood, DIE!"
"Get down!" I yelled, turning as I shouted and jumping into Zinnerman, taking us both towards the ground. I heard the start of shouts begin to ring out in the bar as we fell.
Then..
WHUMP! Fire exploded and a shockwave hurled me to the ground, I felt my head knock against something hard before my vision went black.
~~~
Now.
It was raining shell casings and the walls were on fire. My ears were ringing from the explosion and my thoughts felt sluggish. I watched as my bodyguards slowly charged across the room, guns blazing away.
I looked down at the shard of metal protruding from my left side. Red was quickly spreading down my side and I could faintly feel other pinpricks of pain across my left side.
A feeling made me look up and to the left, just in time to see a man charging at me. He was wearing slacks and a button up shirt with brown loafers to complete the office drone look. The belt of explosives tied around his waist did not fit however.
My hearing rushed back to me, the deafening cacophony of shouting, screaming and gunfire feeling like a stake being driven into my head. But I could hear what the crazed looking man was shouting.
"For the Moore Brotherhood!"
Well this wasn't going according to plan. My right hand darted into my jacket and whipped out a pistol.
The pistol barked twice and two bullets took the Brotherhood member in the head, snapping his head backwards and he tumbled lifelessly next to me. The explosive vest did not go off.
I hardly had time to take another breath before a hand gripped the back of my jack and hauled me to my feet.
"We need to GO!" Someone shouted. As I was pulled upwards, I continued to fire away anyone I saw with a gun in their hands. The original waiters were dead, but men shouting the same battlecry as them, dressed like the bomber I had just killed, were rushing in from the kitchens. The table where the capos had been seated was gone, and horribly burnt corpses were clustered around it.
I blinked and the world gained a blue-ish tinge. Slowly, my gun tracked to the left, I looked and saw a mafia goon slowly jumping up with a shotgun in his hands. Slowly, my pistol barked and I saw the bullets fly through the air and cut him down.
Danger! The world started moving properly again and I shoved myself backwards, taking myself and whoever was pulling me down behind an upturned table. I watched as buckshot punched a head sized hole in the wall where my head had just been.
"Oof!" I craned my head and saw that Flaste Schole had been the one pulling me.
"Zinnerman?" I shouted over the gunfire and the shouting.
"Here!" Suberoa replied. Surprisingly, he was next to me. I looked him over. He didn't look good but he didn't look bad.
"Thanks sir!" Flaste Schole saw the buckshot hole and he poked his submachine gun over the lip of the table and fired away.
"Can you walk?" I loudly asked Zinnerman. He prodded at his legs and grimaced. "I'll manage, what about you?"
I looked down at the metal in my arm and sneered. I'd live, I knew.
"Good enough to blow this popsicle stand, Suberoa." I shouted. "Status report!"
"The gangsters and the bombers are fighting in the back, shooting us when they can." Flaste Schole reported. "But the front entrance is crawling with more of the bombers. We're pinned down."
Blue came into my vision and I knew where the danger was coming from. In slow motion, I peered over the table and cut down a pair of gangsters who had been charging us. The world sped back up as they toppled over and the molotov one of them had been carrying combusted over their bodies, adding to the flames that were starting to overtake the bar.
"Holy shit!" Flaste said in awe as I sunk back down. I flicked away the empty magazine from my pistol while I thought about what to do. I realized I couldn't reload with just one hand, the other magazines were in my jacket. And judging by the muted jolt of pain coming from my left arm, it would be a bad idea to move it more than needed. Then I looked back at the hole in the wall left by the buckshot from earlier.
Through the hole I could see the red-white 'Maintenance' label on the wall.
Aha. I knew where to go.
"I need a gun like yours." I got Flaste's attention and gestured at my wounded arm. He nodded, reached into his jacket and pulled out another submachine. I holstered my pistol and took the submachine gun. It was an Uzi clone, easy to fire with one hand.
"Listen up soldiers!" I roared in the chaotic bar. "We are leaving!"
Around my positions, rough cheering started up.
"Frontal! Frontal! Frontal!"
"No prisoners Zeon! No prisoners!"
I felt that the men had been nervous that I was downed by the explosion, or worse, that my proof of survival had stiffened morale. Then I was annoyed that that particular battlecry was back. It's not like I didn't want to take prisoners, circumstances just conspired to prevent it.
The flames were roaring higher, the smoke was just about to become overwhelming and we were pinned. Time to move.
"Follow me!" I shouted, tapped Flaste on the shoulder with my gun's barrel to show I meant him, and pushed to my feet, sprinting straight at the wall. I tucked my shoulder like a football player and slammed into the fake wood paneling. Then I was going through the wall and slamming into the cool metal walls of the maintenance tunnel, whose entrance I had been betting the mafia had covered loosely so they had easy access to it.
Flaste sprinted in after me, covering the left side of the tunnel, Zinnerman and two others came in after.
"Left side!" I shouted, making an instinctive judgment call. I sprinted down the tunnel, submachine gun up and ready to fire. We ran the length of the bar before the tunnel split in two, sloping downwards and upwards. I paused to listen and heard the chatter of automatic gunfire to the right.
"This way!" I ran up until I found a large grate on the walls of the tunnel. I knelt, trying to ignore the pain that was caused in my wounded arm. The adrenaline was starting to fade. I peered through the grate, seeing the groups of Brotherhood soldiers shooting into the bar, specifically, the backs of the Moore Brotherhood.
Panting behind me signaled the arrival of everyone else in my group.
"Who else is behind you?" I snapped, not taking my eyes away from the grate. That drop looked minor, a couple of feet.
"Five others." It was Zinnerman who answered. "Everyone else is still pinned down."
"Call them up." I told him. "And someone get this grate open."
"We're going to shoot them from up here?" A soldier asked. "Be hard to hit them all."
"No," I said over my shoulder. "We are going to jump down to the street from here, then shoot them."
"Oh."
The grate was popped off and we held our breaths. After a moment of the Brotherhood soldiers not turning around and shooting us, we breathed out. I crouched down and shuffled to the opening, which was only waist high.
"Wait, shouldn't one of us go first?" Flaste asked. My responding glare made him flinch. These lowlife scum fuckers had tried to kill me and my men. There wasn't a force in the universe that would stop me from returning the favor.
"Follow me." I growled and slid out of the maintenance tunnel to the street below. One six foot drop later, I hit the street with a grunt and managed to not lose my balance. The Brotherhood soldiers hadn't heard me over the retorts of their guns. I heard the scuff of boots hitting the pavement behind me.
As I raised my submachine gun, I tried something new. Urged onwards by a feeling of a feeling, I mentally reached inwards and tugged. My vision tinged blue and I felt not the world speed up as I had thought before, but my own body speed up as I gained some kind of greater awareness and control of my body.
My not-an-Uzi rapidly spat bullets into the backs of the Moore Brotherhood in slow motion. Or was it bullet time? I had managed to cut down a full squad before I faintly heard the opening gunshots of my men joining in. I slowly, to me, strafed my fire to the next Brotherhood squad. I managed to drop another three before my magazine rattled empty. Then I felt a pinch in my head and the world sped back up.
Ratatatatat! Roared the guns of my soldiers as we shot the Moore Brotherhood down like rabid dogs. I stepped back into the firing line. I flicked out the stick magazine from my submachine gun and Flaste was kind enough to reload it for me.
As the last of our guns fell silent, the Brotherhood squads that had been firing into the bar were dead or currently sprinting away.
"Take up guard positions." I ordered. "And help Zinnerman down."
I jogged over to the doorway. "Everyone out we've cleared the street!"
My men came out, coughing and rubbing at their eyes from the smoke that was now billowing out of the bar. The last men came out at a walk, despite their red eyes, firing their rifles into the bar.
"Everyone here?" I asked.
"Everyone who's still alive sir." A soldier answered.
"We'll remember the fallen." I said. "Now into the cars, we're heading back to the Garencieres. The colonial authorities will be here any minute."
Quickly we piled into the cars that the mafia had used to take us here and sped away from the burning bar.
"Gilboa is on the comm." Flaste told Zinnerman and myself. "He wants to know if Marida should sortie?"
"No." I firmly replied. "This has turned into enough of a clusterfuck, I don't want a battle inside a colony being used against us in the media."
Yet.
"Copy that." Flaste turned back to his radio and gave my answer to Gilboa Saint, Zinnerman's pilot.
Despite the odds, it was a quiet, if breathtakingly fast, trip back to the Garencieres. Flaste gave the port authority some bullshit reason for us undocking so quickly after arriving and then we were flying away from Moore, back to our own fleet.
We had accomplished nothing and lost two men in the gunfight, with everyone else being medically classified as walking wounded. Zinnerman had two fractures in his left leg's tibia that would require him to be in a cast for a month and I needed fifty stitches total across the left side of my body for the various shrapnel I had been pelted with. The big piece in my arm had barely missed an artery. I would be wearing a sling for two weeks according to the doctors.
Overall, a pretty shit result. I couldn't bring myself to care that much about not striking a deal with the mafia. They were scum and I was already in bed with people I didn't care for. At least I hadn't added actual criminals to the list.
As I watched Side 6 Moore slip away in the distance, I thought about the discovery I had made. As time had gone by and I had devised the creation of my own Newtype Corps for Neo Zeon, I had discovered that my own progression into utilizing newtype abilities was slower than the other newtypes. Sure Marida Cruz and Lugh Luger had been operating mobile suits as newtypes for years now, but I was lagging behind Angelo too.
Now I think I know why.
Funnels and other military applications of Newtype powers were focused on controlling things outside of the human body with incredible precision. Likewise, the famed true communication of Newtypes, one devoid of barriers of misconceptions. Your mind speaking directly to another mind without any barriers present, I had to put hard effort and continual focus into achieving.
But what I had been doing earlier, was inward. I was speeding myself up. Lowering the communication barriers among the parts of my body to near instantaneous levels. I could remember doing something similar in my first mobile suit battle in this lift, nearly two years ago. And again during my first fight with the Sinanju.
Was it a result of my origins? A soul being shoved back into a body, going inwards, focusing inwards, instead of outwards, reaching out towards other bright souls?
It would need to be thought about further.
This power, I felt, would be of significant use in the upcoming battles that lay in the way of my goal. The liberation of mankind from the rule of the Earth Federation and the unshackling of its future would indeed be a bloody road to walk down.
For the moment, I was on mandatory bed rest for the next few days. So I'd be recording more speeches for Radio AEUG to play. Fun.
~~~
As March of 0095 neared its end, a concerning message started to sweep through the Earth Sphere. From information brokers and shadowy black market dealers to up and coming politicians and establishment powerbrokers, a faint rumor slowly began to reach their ears.
The rumor spoke of a power that could control the fate of the Earth Sphere itself. Whoever owned this object would be the master of humanity's fate.
A fanciful rumor that most dismissed, but to those in the know, ears pricked up as the rumors continued to slowly trickle in. Something was afoot and all interested parties would keep their ears close to the ground, waiting for more rumors to appear.
And in a military funding omnibus bill passed for the coming fiscal year, buried in the addendum of a subsection primarily revolving around appropriations for new shoes, three trillion dollars were allocated for the UC Project, managed by Anaheim Electronics with significant technical consultation from the powerful and shadowy Vist Foundation. The addendum stated that the funding was to be used to implement the "Brothers Three" phase of the project.
The Earth Sphere was beginning to march towards a new conflict.
A/N: Well can't have Full Frontal win everything, now can we?
For further clarity, the Moore Brotherhood introduced in this chapter is my own creation, they add a religious bend to the historical brotherhood and were created, as you might have guessed, to be a vigilante army against criminal groups operating on Moore. Can you guess that I might have been watching The Sopranos lately?
Comments are appreciated, as always. See you all next time.
- Location
- Germany
Ahhh, corpos. If they don't control the government then you bet on them making weapons for every side they can get away with for exorbitant sums of money. Even when they ARE the government, they will sell atleast substandard weapons to a competitor if the benefits are there.
Maybe the Foundation will get shafted by Anaheim, who knows *rolls eyes*
Maybe the Foundation will get shafted by Anaheim, who knows *rolls eyes*
- Location
- USA
Yes. The bad guys in "Gundam Victory" were the Zanscare Empire, not Zeon.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
And a hundred or so years after Victory in G-Saviour (UC 223) the main conflict is CONSENT vs. Gaia with the Illuminati getting involved.
I mostly brought this up because it's always fun to remember G-Saviour exists, and the Gundam in it was built by a faction called the Illuminati. XD
I mostly brought this up because it's always fun to remember G-Saviour exists, and the Gundam in it was built by a faction called the Illuminati. XD
- Location
- USA
Wasn't "Victory" in the 150s? So less than a hundred.
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
The last big zeonist episode in UC is the Oldsmobile wars covered in the F91 prequel mangas
Chapter 34
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Chapter 34
~~~U.C.0095.5.7
Londo Bell Headquarters, Londenion Colony, Side 1
~~~
Yuu Kajima was standing on the highest gantry of one of the many military use hangars built into Londenion's structure. Below him the hanger writhed with movement. Technicians and mechanics bounced around a trio of mobile suits, doing through the last finishing touches in their exhaustive pre-flight checklist.
Yuu cast a critical eye over the all blue mobile suits. High parts commonality with the Jegan, but with several new designs. The roughly triangular backpack, whose highest point jutted over the mobile suit's head, was the most obvious. Red sensors built into the front of the shoulders and the upper chest along with a new red compound sensor visor. But a discerning eye would also be quick to pick up the multitude of vernier jets on the shoulders and legs, and the lack of armor along the back of the legs. This was a transformable mobile suit, another scion that claimed descent from the famed Zeta Gundam.
The RGZ-95 ReZEL. The latest weapon in Londo Bell's arsenal. Today would be its final, public, testing before being formally adopted into Londo Bell's service. It had already been decided behind closed doors among Bright and General Staff Headquarters. But the budgetary committees wanted the process done properly, so Yuu was supervising.
He heard footsteps behind him.
"Captain Kajima, sir!" There was the rustle of fabric as Yuu heard boots stamp on the ground. He turned around and saw the guests of honor for today's testing.
"Tri-Stars Team reporting as ordered, Captain Kajima!" Three men held their salutes are Yuu examined them.
Captain?
Oh right, he was back on the Space Force ranking. No more Colonel Kajima for now. Yuu made a mental note to pay more attention for the next few days until he had adjusted. Wouldn't do to appear unprofessional by not responding to those who addressed him.
"At ease Lieutenants." Yuu returned the salute and the Tri-Stars went to parade rest, shoulders squared and arms held straight at their sides. He cast a critical eye over them.
The Tri-Stars, one of the more famous pilot teams these days. Composed of Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, team leader, along with Lieutenants Junior Grade Daryl McGuinness and Watt Stepney, the Tri-Stars team were an elite unit. Currently they were doing a stint in some top secret mobile suit development project as test pilots, but before that all three of them had made ace in the First Neo Zeon War.\
Honestly, Yuu Kajima wanted them. These men were exceptional pilots who he knew were wasted on such trivial things as mobile suit development programs. The Tri-Stars would be put to better use in Londo Bell, putting their skills to use against the Zeon.
But that was an objective for another day. Today, they had a test run to complete.
"I'm sure you've already reviewed the briefing, so I'll keep this short and sweet." Yuu joked. The Tri-Stars obligingly chuckled for him.
"You're conducting the final test run for the RGZ-95 ReZel. Your assigned units are down there. Execute the tests, eliminate opfor, come home in time for dinner. "
"No last minute additions sir?" Watt Stepney asked, an expression of minor disbelief on his face. Yuu shook his head. What kind of development program were they in where test runs had last minute additions?
"No. This mobile suit is ready for deployment." Yuu decided to be more open with the Tri-Stars. "And frankly, we needed these on the front lines yesterday."
Nigel Garrett winced. "Is the situation with Neo Zeon still worsening?"
"We'd heard the rumors but…" Daryl McGuinness trailed off, clearly not wanting to offend.
Yuu understood. Rumors were one thing but to have the commander of Londo Bell's mobile suit corp all but say it out loud? That was different.
"We're gathering our strength but they're doing the same." He admitted. "We haven't gone back to shooting at each other but that just means now's the time to upgrade our mobile suits to keep our edge over the zekes. So do your job and do it by the book."
"Understood Captain." Nigel Garrett saluted again. "You can count on us."
"But you sure you don't want to join us for the milk run Captain?" Watt Stepney said. "Might be fun."
Yuu shook his head slightly. "Nah, I already had my fun."
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the four ReZEL in the hanger. This one had green composite cameras on it, and a mega beam launcher, nearly the size of a mobile suit, was sitting in its hands.
Watt Stepney whistled. "Now that's a mobile suit. Custom model?"
"Yeah." Yuu grinned. "The C-type. Commanders and aces only. Since I'm both, that means I get double the goodies. Now, to your mobile suits."
An hour later, Yuu had the final results. Tomorrow General Staff Headquarters would give the deployment of the RGZ-95 ReZEL their stamp of approval, then the Assembly's Committee on National Defense would vote in a special appropriations session to allocate funds to pay for the mobile suits and finally the President would sign off on the order. In two weeks the first deliveries would be lining the hangar walls of Londo Bell ships, and whoever else General Staff HQ felt like being generous to.
As he was on his way to give Bright the good news on the final testing of the ReZEL, Yuu came across a familiar face in one of the many hallways in Londenion's military sector.
"Captain Mitas." Yuu greeted the man as he passed him in the hallway.
"Oh? Ah!, Captain Kajima! Hold on a moment!" There was a flap of an unbuttoned trench coat as Captain Otto Mitas flipped himself around, using the lower gravity of the military section to move quicker than a man his age would under normal gravity. Yuu paused in his stride to allow his fellow captain to catch up.
"Ahem, good to see you again Captain Kajima." Yuu shook hands with Otto, a bemused half-smile on his face.
Otto pulled off his peaked cap and brushed back his hair, showing off his prominent widow's peak, before re-affixing his cap. Yuu noticed that Otto was in full uniform, the officer's high-collared trench coat pulled freshly starched.
"You too, Captain Mitas. Something I can help you with?" Yuu waggled the folder that had the ReZEL's final testing report in it. "I'm on my way to Commodore Noa's office with this report."
"Good, good!" Otto smiled sheepishly. "I was trying to find my way to his office. But I'm…unfamiliar with Londenion's layout."
"Not your usual haunt huh." Yuu said before shrugging. "Come with me then."
"Much appreciated!"
The two men set off in the direction Yuu had been going in. As they walked in amicable silence, Yuu thought about what he knew about Otto Mitas.
They were familiar with each other but so was everyone, to some degree, once an officer reached the upper elections of the military. Yuu knew that Otto had spent most of his career in Luna II, cutting his leadership teeth in the command of a Lepanto-class frigate in Luna II's defense fleet as a Lieutenant in the One Year War if Yuu was remembering right. From there Otto had served as the executive officer on one of the Magellan battleship's stationed at Luna II. If Yuu remembered right, in the wake of the First Neo Zeon War, Otto had secured his promotion to the captaincy but Yuu didn't remember what his posting had been.
Londenion was out of Otto's usual haunts, that was certain. Yuu wondered why he was looking for Bright. Did Luna II Command need something from Londo Bell?
Yuu and Otto exited the maze of hallways and to the opening foyer of Bright's office. Three hallways in total converged on the foyer and a L shaped desk guarded the door to an office that had a bronze placard freshly installed on the door.
Brvt Commodore Bright Noa was etched on the placard. Yuu's sense of loyalty was always insulted when he saw the Brevet before Bright's new rank. Bright Noa was one of the most accomplished war heroes alive today but his habit of getting on the wrong side of the powers that be and involvement in the AEUG had made General Staff HQ do their best to freeze his career. Bright had only been begrudgingly breveted to Commodore in order for Headquarters to be able to say to the Assembly that they were reacting appropriately to the renewed Neo Zeon attacks in the Earth Sphere.
Having a mere captain be the face of the EFSF response wouldn't do. But a commodore? Now that sounded official and proper to the ears of the press and the assembly.
Londo Bell ballooned in size as a result and Bright said he didn't care that the rank wasn't official. But Yuu Kajima cared.
"Hey Jeanne, the Commodore in?" Yuu asked the secretary. The fetching redhead flashed a smile that belonged on a magazine.
"Yes Captain Kajima. The Commodore is expecting you. You as well Captain Mitas." Jeanne picked up her desk phone and pressed a few buttons. Yuu glanced over at Otto's minutely fidgeting form. Just what was going on here?
"Of course sir." Jeanne put the phone down.
"He'll see both of you now." She cheerily said. There was a click as the door to the office was electronically unlocked.
Yuu and Ottos walked into the office and snapped to attention.
"Gentlemen, welcome." Bright Noa greeted them from behind his desk. "At ease. Coffee? Tea? Water?"
"I'm good." Yuu replied. Otto elected for a cup of tea, Bright joined him in that.
After the tea had been poured and the needlessly complex ritual of adding sugar and milk was over, Yuu handed Bright the test report for the ReZEL.
"As you asked for sir."
Bright grabbed the folder with a nod of thanks and deftly flicked through its contents.
"Very good. This will get General Staff Headquarters to authorize its deployment to us as part of the wider Reorganization Plan. Good work on this Yuu."
"Just doing my job sir." Yuu responded to Bright's praise with a grin. After quickly confirming that Otto wasn't looking at him, Yuu pointed at the door surreptitiously and raised an eyebrow at Bright.
Bright shook his head and minutely gestured to the other chair in front of his desk. Yuu nodded and took the offered seat.
Bright cleared his throat. "Now then, Captain Mitas. What can I do for Luna II Headquarters?"
"Ahrm yes." Otto put his teacup down and stood up. Reaching into his trenchcoat he pulled out a letter and handed it over to Bright. Yuu watched with interest. That envelope looked quality.
"Commodore Noa, that is my official request to be transferred from Luna II Headquarters to Londo Bell." Otto continued. "The situation in the Earth Sphere is worsening far faster than anyone would have guessed following Char's Rebellion and I believe that my talents would best serve the Federation by serving under your command. Luna II Headquarters had conditionally approved my transfer request, pending your final approval."
"You're offering your services in the capacity of a staff officer?" Bright asked, holding the unopened letter in one hand.
"No sir. With Londo Bell's recent expansion in numbers, you need officers with experience captaining warships. I have that." Otto offered, his eyes steely fixed on an invisible point above Bright's head.
Ahh, Yuu thought, so that's what brought him here. No doubt Otto's connections throughout the EFSF upper echelons allowed him to be on the cutting edge of the military rumor mill.
Bright opened the envelope while Otto was speaking and started reading the transfer request. The room was silent until Bright finished reading. Otto not wanting to appear over eager and come off as rude. Yuu was enjoying the silence too much to interrupt it. He'd had a busy and loud few weeks.
Bright breathed in as he put the paper down. "You understand that you'll not be getting one of the new Ra-Cailum battleships right? Those are going to proven Londo Bell captains."
As part of the EFSF's expansion of the Londo Bell Taskforce, two new Ra Cailum class battleships had been assigned to Bright's command, Yuu knew. The Ra Gustar and the Admiral Tianem would join Londo Bell's fleet, along with the entirety of the next batch of Clop-class cruisers.
Yuu didn't know the final number of the expanded Londo Bell fleet but he knew their forces would be up to at least twenty state-of-the-art warships.
"Of course. And I wasn't going to request that either." Otto replied. "I'm willing to command any ship you see fit to assign me. I only ask that the ship be a fighting one."
Bright smiled enigmatically and then signed at the bottom of the transfer request. "Don't worry Captain Mitas, Londo Bell only has fighting ships. Welcome aboard."
Bright stood up, exchanged another salute with Otto then shook hands with him.
Yuu stood up from his seat and shook hands with Otto as well. "Hope you're not expecting a party or anything. 'Fraid our recreational budget is drained for the foreseeable future."
"There a fund I can chip into?" Otto jokingly asked.
"Ha!" Yuu laughed. "We got a coffee fund as usual. Maybe with you in the pot we can get that espresso machine the budgetary committee keeps shooting down."
"One can hope." Bright interjected. "Captain Mitas, the paperwork will take a day or two to complete. That doesn't mean we can't get your orientation underway. Yuu?"
"Yes sir?"
"Why don't you take Otto down to Dock 37-A so he can get a look at his new command. The refits are scheduled to be complete by the end of the week. Then introduce him to the command staff. I'll have Lieutenant Command Basilicock meet you two at the dock." Oh. So Bright was giving that ship away. Yuu honestly didn't expect that.
"At once Commodore." Yuu turned to Otto. "Tell me Captain Mitas: are you familiar with the Nahel Argama?"
~~~
There was the faint squeal of feedback and the crackle of the microphone as an up-beat tune hit the radio waves of the Earth Sphere.
"BA-BA-BABA DA-DA-DA-DA!"
"Welcome one and all to Radio AEUG! I'm your host, FIFTH WAVE! Coming to you live and hot from an undisclosed location, shrouded in the comforting blanket of our local Minovsky particles! Much to the dismay of our overlords I'm sure. And before we get started I have one special message for my very special someone….
Better luck next time you spec ops fucks! You're messing with Fifth Wave here, you're messing with Radio AEUG! This isn't amateur hour! Bring your A-game next time, so I'll at least be able to boast about outsmarting you instead of just feeling sorry for you.
Now that was a fine hour of the latest and greatest techno-synth, fresh from our affiliate station KPWZ in the Sea of Solomon. Be sure to tune in every other day for their weekly hot hits.
Yeah yeah.. Well dear viewers, that was my producer gesturing very very angrily at me. Apparently we're off script. Wow, who could have foreseen that. Afraid our dear producer Matt still hasn't made the full jump to our fast paced lifestyle here at Radio AEUG folks, but we're sticking with him, aren't we?
Now that we're done with digesting those sweet tunes, it's time for your regularly scheduled Radio AEUG Public Service Announcement!
In this week's hot hits: Election Time!
That's right folks, while our gravity bound tyrants may have crushed your ability to self-determine completely back in 0084, they still haven't been able to totally remove local government. If you're a resident of Riah or Hatte, know that your local primaries are coming up at the start of June for the 0096 elections! I know, I know. These aren't as glamorous as the mayoral elections scheduled for 0098 but they are just as important folks!
This is your chance to elect the folks who'll fight the good fight. Push out those dogs of Earth, corrupt bastards, and get one of your own in the big chair. If you're in the know, then go down to your local AEUG watering hole and get the approved candidate list from AEUG High Command! Then tell your friends and family who to vote for.
This is too important to leave to chance, folks. Support our comrades from the Restoration Movement in the good fight. Like Full Frontal says 'We'll stand together, or die alone."
And if you're getting the itch to do more than vote, then let me tell you this: We're always looking for fresh talent in the AEUG. Talk to your local rep for more info now.
Now that today's PSA has concluded, we're getting right into the meat of the broadcast. First up, Full Frontal's latest speech on the necessity of spacenoid self-determination. Followed by a roundtable discussion with myself, Miss DHT and Biggie A on the re-establishment of Spacenoid regional identity and how this naturally grows into wider spacenoid unity.
The microphone crackles again before Fifth Wave's voice is replaced with the voice that some called the reborn voice of Char Aznable, Full Frontal.
"My Fellow Spacenoids, I speak to you today not as the leader of Neo Zeon nor as the heir of Char Aznable. Today I speak to you as the duly elected leader of the Anti-Earth Union Group! For too long have we denizens of space fought alone and divided against the tyranny of Earth…."
~~~
Aires City, Luna
~~~
Neuer Mann, leader of New Desides, gazed impassively down on Aires City. From the highest building in the city, a spiked tower that bristled with defense guns, he watched the countless pin-pricks of engines dart across his city.
Some were larger and faster moving than others, he knew that those would be the patrolling mobile suits of New Desides. White painted Nemo IIIs and Xeku Eins, the former piloted by new recruits to the cause while the latter were operated by the old hands of White Squadron. The rest were the mass of mobile workers.
Aires City was coming back to life, as it had been ever since their first war had ended in 0088. While the aid of their fellow lunar cities had allowed them to stave off death, the city hadn't been thriving in the meantime. Thanks to New Desides entrance into the reformed AEUG had injected fresh flood of capital and resources that had increased the reconstruction rate tenfold.
New Desides acceptance had also heralded a job boom for Aires City. The Buch Concern had opened a new mining operation nearby and Imago Trading had invested in a refinery-foundry complex. Neuer knew that Imago Trading was a shell company for the AEUG and no material ever left the refinery-foundry complex in Aires City. Instead that precious titanium and super hard steel alloy found its way into the construction bays of New Desides, feeding their growing war stock.
Buch Concern was a real enough company, second only to Anaheim in some industries. Neuer guessed that parts of the company had aligned themselves with the AEUG, though he had not been told what their asking price was. Perhaps that was unfavorable of him, he admitted. Good people worked for mega-companies too.
An alert chimed behind him. Neuer turned to look at the source of the noise.
A video call request popped up on his computer. Neuer walked back to his desk and accepted the call. It was on his special, AEUG installed encrypted line. Only two other men had such lines.
"Neuer Mann here." He said as he accepted the call.
"Aha, Neuer my boy. It's Pepe! How are you on this fine day?" The always cheerful voice of Pepe Mengamon, Governor-General of Palau and leader of the Riah Restoration Movement, answered.
"I don't know if I'd say this day was more noteworthy than any other day, Governor-General. But we are on track to meet our quotas in production and recruitment this week." Neuer stated.
"Well that's jolly, isn't it? Progress is progress after all."
"Indeed. Will Full Frontal be joining us?" Neuer asked.
"Oh no, this isn't our weekly meeting. But I've already told Frontal what I'm calling about, if that's what you're asking." Pepe told him. "How does that production and recruitment go exactly, by the by?"
Neuer suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
"After my provocateurs made the EFSF garrison in St Joseph lash out against that union demonstration at the docks, we've onboarded fifty new members from those unions. Recruitment drives in Von Braun and Grenada have rustled up a total of thirty vetted recruits, we're testing them for pilot standards now." He detailed for his fellow insurgent leader.
After Full Frontal had struck down the EFSF Lunar Orbital Fleet, the Federation had heavily increased their garrison strength on the moon. Tanks, APCs and mobile suits became common sights in cities in the year since Left Hook. Crackdowns against 'divisive elements' had only fed the flames of discontent that the mercantile trade regulations instituted last year had lit.
A lush harvest to reap for New Desides. Luna for Luna. Their own interests should be put first, their own people should be put first. And with every poor move by the Federation, helped along now and then by Neuer Mann's own agents, more lunarians woke up to the truth New Desides championed.
"Very good, very good. If I remember right from last week's meeting, you've laid down more hulls?"
"Yeah." Neuer confirmed. "Added another Musaka-class, so that brings our total up to six. Then we've got another two dozen Sinope-class in the works. They're cheap, inexpensive and require less crew than the Musakas."
And easily passed off as commercial cutters, passenger ships, or innovative salvage vessels. Fast too. Very fast.
"Hmm..but they lack armaments, armor and can only carry two mobile suits if I remember Horst Harness' presentation on that design." Pepe mused. "Not something I wanted in my force, I must say."
"That's right. But I have my strategy and you have yours. What did you call about?" Neuer said, wanting to get the conversation back on track.
"Ah yes. I want to arrange a wargame between your men and mine." Pepe said with a boyish grin on his face. "Full Frontal's lads are getting all the combat experience so far, as we've planned, but that's no reason not to hone our own blades while we wait."
This was interesting and a matter Neuer had been musing on his own end for a while. He had hoped to arrange it with Neo Zeon but…
"On the moon?" He asked.
"Yes, too conspicuous in Riah."
"Very well. Send me the details and I'll have my staff coordinate with yours. Mobile suits alone or mobiles suits and ships?"
"Just mobile suits."
"Okay then. Expect the rough draft by the end of the day."
"Excellent! A pleasure as always Mayor Mann. Keep on giving the Federation hell now, you hear me?"
"I hear you." Neuer ended the call.
He didn't believe that Pepe Mengamon hadn't already discussed this with Full Frontal. The two of them were thick as thieves. The original founders of the new Anti-Earth Union Group. But Neuer Mann knew what the coming war would require from his forces and he would always seize every opportunity to prepare his forces for that war.
Nothing would be anathema to New Desides. They were the heirs of the fighting spirit of the Titans and they would see the Moon as the master of its own fate.
A/N - an interlude chapter, it's been a while. For the Radio AEUG portion, you would benefit your read by having Roundball Rock playing for the opening section.
Here we see that the Federation and Full Frontal's AEUG are beefing up for the coming war they see. But for the moment, all's quiet on the western front. But what about the home front eh?
Will SI Full Frontal get the White Tri Stars from the Republic of Zeon to his forces? They did appear in Gundam Narrative manga.
Hopefully, they won't go Titans.
Never go full Titans.
I see that SI Full Frontal decided to publicly appear as leader of Neo Zeon AND Neo AEUG at the same. I thought he'd go with an alter ego like what Char did as Quattro Bajeena. Because in the Zeta Gundam manga, he explained to Reccoa Londe that if he appear as Char Aznable fighting for the AEUG, the Federation would see the organization as another Zeon group and it would have jeopardized the AEUG's cause.
Not that the Titans would have cared about the distinction of course.
Ivan the Not-so-Terrible
AH MEW CHEEKI BREEKI I V DAMKE
- Location
- Mikonyan’s USSR
Unlike the original AEUG, Neo AEUG is explicitly aligned with Zeon revivalism. There's no point in a secret identity because everyone already knows that the Neo AEUG is Full Frontal trying to set up a united front.
Fair point. Londo Bell (even when getting more support and funding) is gonna have their hands full in dealing both Neo Zeon and Neo AEUG, which would be deliciously ironic as members of Londo Bell including their leader Bright Noa were former OG AEUG themselves.
Especially the fact that they quietly disbanded and returned to the Federation and its status quo after losing their comrades who genuinely believed in the OG AEUG cause and the remnants of the organization were left a shadow of their former selves.
BalerionTheDrake
Pacta sunt servanda
Or is it that zeon revivalism is explicitly aligned with any anti earth movement?
Attrition is a bitch and doubly so for the Gryps war, where those who joined up with the AEUG from the EFSF did so due to their beliefs. And when they died, there wasn't anyone of similar beliefs taking their place in the EFF. I attribute this to the culture shift we see in the federation during ZZ. Anyone who would have objected to the way they handled Neo Zeon already died fighting the Titans
The Titans seemed to think so when the AEUG defied their tyrannical stance. Anyone who oppose them must be eradicated even if they're not aligned with Zeon.
True, the AEUG should have consolidated themselves after succeeded in getting the Titans lose everything than rush after them and finish them off. The AEUG would have even succeeded in their original goal of reforming the Earth Federation as well.
It might result in Titans allying themselves with Axis Zeon (very ironic that they joined the very enemy they're supposed to fight against on paper) more firmly and slowly rebuild their strength. But it would eventually devolve into infighting between Paptimus Scirocco and Haman Karn, both with clashing egos and ideologies that would tear apart both Titans and Axis Zeon.
Like what happened to Haman Karn Faction and Glemy Toto Faction in ZZ.