November 30, UC 0079 - Luna Two's Dock

She looked a lot different when he first saw her, but he could still recognize her despite all the scars she had taken at the hands of the Zeon Navy and the shipyards of the Federation. "She" was his old battleship, the Amerigo, and he could still smell the fresh blue paint that once covered her exterior. The blue paint was gone now, replaced by a low visibility grey-black color scheme that was more practical in war time conditions. Most appropriate for a now veteran warrior that had lived past many of her sisters. Beside her was another survivor, the Johnston, but unlike the Amerigo her phenomenal luck had left her elegant superstructure nearly the same as it was when she was built two years ago. Except for the new exterior MS hangar that had replaced her rear turrets, that is.

"Will you be taking command of her now, Sir?" Sean asked. The plan was to make the Amerigo the overall flagship of the fleet, while the newer, faster ships would operate under Patterson from the Spruance. Much as he admired Dolvich, he didn't really want to share the bridge with a superior officer who could always look over his shoulder...

"Alright, I'm taking her now, Patterson. Take good care of the Spruance, we'll be heading to Malta Base in an hour or so."

"Yes, Sir."
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The cold-hearted officer that had greeted her was bad enough, but her memories of this place were nothing short of painful. Luna Two was almost the only safe haven for the Federation fleet after the One Week War, as well as a stopover point for many of the surviving refugees from the destroyed Sides. She could still see it, the rows and rows of dead, the grieving families, the little kids made orphans who were just wandering around, looking for mother or father, not able to understand that they would never see them again. All in the name of spacenoid independence. She swore out loud.

"Sylvie?" John asked, suprised at her outburst as he tried to keep his balance. There was a little gravity, but not enough to keep him from getting dizzy. But it wasn't as bad as he thought.

"Nothing, forget it, let's get out of here as soon as we can," Sylvie replied coldly.

"Are you..." John started.

Sylvie sighed. John had a peculiar way of knowing how people felt, even if they tried to hide it. At least, she consoled herself, he was a nice guy... despite her glaring first impression of him, "No, and I don't want to talk about it."

John sighed as well. Sylvie just kept too many things to herself, even if she couldn't handle it very well. This was just another one of those cases, "Alright, don't worry about it. Let's just wait till the briefing, alright?"

"That's a good idea..." Sylvie responded. But she kept looking at the floor below her, not wanting to look outside. Damn, John thought, this girl has some serious problems... but he wasn't the guy that could help her.
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"Max, sorry if I never told you this, but thank you," Maurice said rather shyly as soon as she and Max were alone in the wardroom. She'd been waiting for Fred, Eric and Juan to leave so she could finally tell him, and she just hoped...

"What do you mean?" Max replied quietly.

"I mean... I never thanked you... for what you did after we met here..." Maurice said as she blushed lightly, looking at the floor, "I had... pretty much broken down... I just wanted to see my dad, my mom, even my little brother... I wanted to be with them, and I just didn't want to live..." Maurice looked at him, but kept her stare away from his eyes as a frown formed on her lips and tears began to form in her eyes, "Then I met you again, and even though you were in as bad a situation as me you tried to comfort me. So there! Thank you!" Maurice finished as she turned her gaze to his eyes, her frown turning to a smile, "For being the big brother I always wanted, but never had."

"You're weird, you know that?" Max said quietly as he gave her a brotherly hug. But still, he didn't smile.

"Yeah, I know..."
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"Where's Max and Maurice?" John asked as he saw the three other pilots chatting quitely in the hall.

"Oh, they're talking in the wardroom," Juan replied, "Maurice asked us to go on ahead of them..."

Sylvie seemed to turn a touch paler than usual. Fortunately for her, only John had noticed that.

"No worries," Sylvie said in a very even tone, "Let's go."
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"Another telegram?" Zeon's Captain Ming Chow said sadly as an orderly handed him an envelope.

"Ming, what is it?" his wingman, Lieutenant Michael West asked with concern in his voice. Ming had just lost his older brother at Odessa a few weeks ago, and now this...

"It's my younger brother... he's dead. Killed in the Philippines. Damn the Feds!" he replied angrily. But he didn't cry, instead his eyes began to fill with rage. He hated the Federation. For forcibly evicting his family from Earth, for being responsible, directly or indirectly, for the death of every member of his family. Except his younger sister Mei Li that is. His anger went down a notch.

"Ming, are you..." Mike started, as he tried to pat Ming in the back.

"No, don't worry. War is war. I'm going to avenge him by killing more of those *******s," he replied, determination in his eyes, his fists clenched as hard as stone.

"Well, maybe this will help you do that," Mike said as he started to pull his wingman to the hangar. The Bremen, the Musai class cruiser they were serving on, had just gotten a few new MS from a resupply Papua to replace their aging C-Type Zaku IIs.

Ming wasn't really in the mood to go, but he went anyway. Better to forget and get back to work, he reflected. What he saw in the hangar didn't disappoint him. In fact, it even managed to temporarily take away his anger and frustration. It was a Zaku, but not just an ordinary one. It had huge legs that housed many extra maneuvering thrusters. It was the High-Mobility Type Zaku, the R-Type (right). The ultimate MS to pilot for any true Zeon ace. And it was painted in the orange paint scheme that he used, and the Chinese character Ming painted in an elegant calligraphic style on its left shoulder. This was HIS Zaku, he realized.

"You lucky dog!" Mike said as he saw the R-Type. But he knew he deserved it. They were both part of Zeon's "Jolly Rogers" fleet, whose job was to harass the Federation's supply lines. And Ming was now the best ace in the fleet after the "Crimsom Lighting" himself, Major Johnny Ridden, who had left the force to test out a new prototype MS in the Ace Pilot Corps. Ming even managed to kill at least one of the new enemy MS last October while escorting a prototype Dom-Zaku. Even though that prototype was later lost, it didn't keep Zeons from completing Mike's new MS, the Rick Dom.

"Alright Ming, I got you what you wanted, didn't I?" Colonel Jefferson, their CO, said as he joined the two nearly awe-struck pilots. Though Jefferson had some aristocratic connections with the ruling Zabi family, he didn't act like one and cared for his men. And he talked just like a pirate, the two thought with a smile.

"Thank you, Sir," Ming replied with a bow. He was very appreciative.

"Hell, you've earned it. Besides, you really don't want to know how I got that..." Jefferson replied with a grin. It had taken a few strings to get it, but he had convinced Lieutenant General Dozul Zabi to give him a "surplus" one. This unit had probably belonged to one of the now deceased ace pilots, maybe the Black Trinary, or somebody who had traded it in for a new prototype. In either case, he really didn't want to know, lest it cause even MORE paperwork and a lot of explanations to other ace pilots..."Just don't disappoint me."

"I'll get you a cruiser next time we sortie, Sir," Ming replied confidently.

"That'll be soon. Fleet command is telling us to team up with the Hannover and the Hamburg. They think that the main invasion maybe coming."

"We'll make sure they don't take our homeland. Right, Ming!?" Mike declared confidently.

"Yes. We won't."
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Max and Maurice made it just in time for the briefing, but perhaps it was better they didn't. The briefing really didn't tell them much more than they already knew, Sylvie thought, though at the very least the Colonel tried his best not to make it boring. Basically, the plan was to get to Fire Base Malta, keep it operational and await for further orders. Enemy status and intentions were, as usual, unknown. But it was a simple plan. Unfortunately, the simplest things in war are often the hardest to accomplish.
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Brigadier General Dolvich took a deep breath as the Amerigo eased itself out of the Luna Two's drydock. His was the last ship to leave, and he realized that at last, despite all the near misses, they were on their way. Up front were the three newest ships, Spruance, Gloucester and Anzio. To his left was his first squadron of cruisers, composed of the Normandy, Johnston, and Ramillies. To his right was the second, composed of the Salamis class cruisers Ulm, Quantico and Austerlitz. Behind him were the Colombus class supply ships De Gama and Clark, bringing with them some extra support units. He had a total of twenty-eight mobile suits, ten Balls, eight Sabre Fish and a quartet of Public PT boats. Two Publics, four Sabre Fish and a modified obsever type Ball were far off in front, acting as forward pickets. The journey would take about five days, and it would most certainly be dangerous.
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At Zeon's lunar base in Granada, under the close supervision of Cecilia Irene, four Musais and a Tibe are launched out of dock and begin to head towards Side 2. The journey would only take three days.
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December 2, UC 0079 - Somewhere over the Earth Orbit

The first two days were almost boring, John thought. The route they took was almost clear of any debris and it was very easy to spot any Zeon units that may have wanted to attack them. Not that any had appeared, that is. That changed dramatically today. His radar screen was now covered with blips from the pieces of wreckage that littered this "shoal zone". Part of ships and colonies that had drifted from the derilect Sides. Sylvie was holding up, despite her memories of this place, and he could only hope that she would continue to do so. He turned his attention back to the screen. The coast was clear, or so it seems...
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"Our Flipper have sighted a large force of enemy ships. Numbers are still unknown," the senior communications officer aboard the Bremen reported.

"We need more to work on..." Jefferson replied. His ship's third MS was a reconnaisance E-3 Type Zaku, affectionately called the Flipper due to its flipper like sensor arrays installed in its head, and he had specifically ordered it out first to assess any enemy that may be coming. As said in an old military text... "He who knows himself and knows the enemy will surely win..."
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After receiving the Bremen's transmission, the Zaku Flipper immediately set to work identifying the enemy fleet. Its powerful optics told its pilot the enemy fleet had at least ten ships, and the three up front were new ones. The pilot flipped a switch to begin recording images on the new ones, sure that the engineers would be interested in the Federation's latest ship designs. If they didn't send back the wreckage instead that is...
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"Fifteen? Too many..." Jefferson said as he heard the Flipper's report, "We have to settle for a quick hit-and-run raid. How are the Hannover and the Hamburg? Are they ready for our little ambush?"

"Yes, Sir, guns are locked on to the kill zone. Hannover has also set the mines in that area too, Sir."

"Good, now don't fire until my signal..."
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Something was very fishy, John thought. The path in front of them seemed to be too clear, while those on the side seemed to have more wreckage than usual. The forward pickets hadn't detected anything, but Eric's EWAC GM was down for maintenance, and the remaining scouts' radar was not as effective. To him it felt like somebody WANTED them to take the middle route. "Sir, could we slow down a bit? I have a bad feeling about this..."

"Be more specific," Sean replied sternly, "We have a schedule you know."

"Somebody seems to have prepared a ready made path for us, Sir," John said as he pointed to the radar screen.

Sean considered it for a moment. It could be a trap, or it could be nothing. Slowing down would cost them time, but going forward could cost them lives. He made his decision. "Alright, signal the fleet, Sylvie."

"Yes sir, and Magic, I hope you know what you're doing..."
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So, the enemy fleet wasn't THAT stupid. But Jefferson had already thought out contingency plans. "Execute secondary plan now. Prepare to fire missiles!"
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Ming had heard the orders, and was a little disappointed. Had the enemy just rushed in, it would have run afoul of beam fire and mobile suits from three directions while mines detonated about them. Now, since they stopped just outside the kill zone, they could only be attacked head on, and it had to be quick and decisive. But he had no worries, his R-type could handle it. Beside him, the Bremen fired two of its missiles at the enemy fleet, its smoke trails barely visible thanks to some modifications the engineers had done...
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John's blood turned cold as the radar screen suddenly blanked out on him. The surest sign of Minovsky interferance. "OH ****! Colonel! Minovsky interferance! We are under attack!!!"

"I can see a pair of missiles heading for us!!!" A lookout reported.

"Anti-air guns, open fire and shoot down those missiles! Launch all mobile suits!" Col. Patterson quickly ordered. All around him, alarm claxons started going off as the Spruance and the rest of the 17th Fleet prepared for its first battle.
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A total of six missiles were fired, Ming saw. Two headed for a brand new Magellan up front, while the other four headed for some of the older Salamis behind them. He watched as the new Magellan's AA guns take down both missiles before they got close, and downed another heading for the ships in the back row. Those ships then began to open fire, killing all but one missile. But the last missile struck true, hitting the cruiser Quantico and destroying her bridge. And now was their chance.

He and seven other Zeon MS began to rocket their way towards the enemy fleet. Behind them, the three Musais opened fire with their beam cannons to cover them, scoring a few hits on the enemy ships in the process. But the fire was not intense enough to supress the enemy fleet entirely, and the big guns of the lead ships began to fire.

Two F-Type Zaku IIs were instantly hit and taken down. A S-Type Zaku II, piloted by their squad leader, followed them. The other Zakus began to break off as the fire became too intense, but Ming and Michael pressed on the attack, their highly manueverable MS able to avoid the beams with ease. Two Sabre Fish tried to sneak up behind them, but both were taken down by the other Zakus now trying to provide covering fire for both of them. As Ming approached the first row of ships, he fired a rocket at the new Salamis to his left. It hit, but didn't do serious damage. Michael fired at the new Magellan, but it missed. Ming swore as they continued on to the second row of ships, they had lost three MS for practically nothing in return. His attitude changed as he saw a heavily damaged Salamis almost right in front of him...
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"Damage report!!!" Brigadier General Dolvich demanded as another explosion shook the Amerigo.

"Scratch hit on the port bridge. Normandy has taken one direct hit, and the Quantico is requesting help..."

The General turned to the Quantico. Out of all the ships, she had suffered the most. One missile and two beam hits, but even though her bridge was gone she was still operational. But then he suddenly saw two objects heading straight towards it...
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Ming grinned as he weaved through the last of the enemy's AA fire. It was just too easy with his Zaku's incredible maneuverability. The Rick Dom was a little less maneuverable, but Michael was able to keep up with him as well. Michael, having a longer ranged bazooka, fired first and broke off. The shell hit a few seconds later, shattering one of the cruiser's turrets. But it was still intact. Ming headed straight for the cruiser, fully intent to finish it off. Like a wolf, he preferred to stalk the weak and wounded prey. He fired two shots, one at the forward torpedo room, the second near the engines...
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"****!" John screamed as the Zaku scored hits on the Quantico. The first shot had hit the forward torpedo room, causing a catastrophic explosion in the forward compartments as the Quantico's torpedoes cooked off. But it was the second shot that finished her off. The round had penetrated the armor belt around the engine room of the ship, and the shell exploded right in the reactor. The ship was vaporized by her own nuclear engines a second later.

"Shoot down that son of a *****!" Colonel Patterson demanded as the Zaku started to break off. But it suddenly turned around and began to charge another target. His target, Sean realized as his blood chilled, was the flagship, the Amerigo.

Remarks:

- I "borrowed" one of the 70 odd Zaku High Mobility Types. If I read right, there are twenty-two original R-Types and fifty or so improved R-Types that had propellant cartridges for easy refuelling. And this is the only R-Type I'm ever going to use ("It's harder to get your hands on an R-type than to sink a Federation battleship").

- I also borrowed a Zaku Flipper. I know that the Flipper is also pretty rare, that's why I took only one.

Notice: This story and all related material is copyrighted by Thomas E. "Zinegata" Ting, no part of this story may be taken by any other person. If you wish to use any material, please contact me first. Gundam and all related trademarks are owned by their respective companies.