Chapter 26: Stalemate"Ming... calm down..." Mike told his wingman as he started to head for the hangar. "YOU calm down!" he replied angrily, "Those Federation *******s have killed off my ENTIRE family! They SPECIFICALLY targetted my own uncle. A DIPLOMAT! A ****ing diplomat! And they had to kill Mei Li with him..." "But that doesn't mean you should throw your life away!" Mike shot back, "What would your sister think if you wasted your life on a suicide mission?!" "It's not a suicide mission. My R-Type can..." "Your damn R-Type needs two days before it's fit to fly," Mike replied in a calmer tone, "Till then, you're grounded, or do I have to beat you up until you listen?" Ming sat down, finally overcome by his grief. He bowed his head down and put his hands over the back of his head. Mei Li... why... You were the only one I had left... Mike sat beside him and patted his back saying, "I'm sorry Ming. I truly am... she was special you know..." Not only to you, but to me too. But that's something you'll never know now... "Yeah... she was," he replied, laying his back on the wall. But the pain was still there.
"Agreed then," Mike finished as he looked up into the ceiling. He tried to remember Mei Li's face... The two of them had met a few times, and they had both managed to become friends through mailing each other. And, he admitted to himself, I was falling for her too... But he had to put aside his own grief. Ming needed a friend now, and he was the only one Ming had. "Damn it!" a Rick Dom pilot screamed as his heat sword broke in half. He'd been squaring off with a GM for just a short time, and their damn beam weaponry... Jean quickly stabbed the Rick Dom in the chest before he could get a replacement for his broken weapon, and the Rick Dom slumped dead. His GMs were outnumbered, but they had the edge. Beam sabres were far more reliable than the fragile heat weapons used by Zeon, not to mention being more powerful. In addition, most Zeon Mobile Suit pilots rarely, if ever, enganged in close combat due to the Federation lack of mobile suits before this point, while the combat data taken by the Gundam included close combat scenarios and were subsequently programmed into the GM's systems. The results reflected it. His team of six had already killed five Zeon mobile suits without losing a single one of their own, and the rest of enemy force was seriously reconsidering their attack. "Come one you Zeek scum!" one of his GM pilots, the one that was so scared only a few minutes before, taunted over the Zeon communications channel, "We're ready for ya!"
"Insolent boy..." the Zeon MS commander muttered after he heard that. But he only had sixteen mobile suits still capable of combat while the enemy had nearly fifteen. He looked around, trying to find another option. He never saw the beam coming straight at him. "Gotcha..." Max said quietly as he finally located and killed the enemy squad leader. The effect on the enemy was nothing less than demoralizing.
"Alright! That's it! Fall back!" the deputy MS commander ordered. His men scarcely needed any encouragement and soon the battered Zeon force was in full flight... "Yeeha! We have them on the run!" one of the GM pilots jubilantly reported. "Alright, prepare to charge!" Captain Karl ordered. "Sir?!" Jean asked, surprised. "Let's run'm down and kill as many of them before they come back!" he explained. "Alright... are you set boys?" he asked in a nervous tone.
"Yes sir!" was their enthusiastic reply. "What the hell..." the deputy Zeon MS commander muttered as he saw the Federation line begin to advance. He was just about to call for fire support when he was exploded by a direct hit from Max. "Good luck guys..." Max muttered quietly. His last shot was his gift to the rest of the MS team, as his busted leg kept him from effectively enganging in the melee.
But they hardly needed it at all. At first the Zeon troops turned to try to fight, but it was once again a losing game against the GM's beam sabre and computer. The force finally broke from formation and fled in terrible disarray. Most were cut down by the GMs, others taken down by supporting fire from the Balls. Karl pressed the counterattack to its limits, but knew not to press his luck. He quickly ordered his teams to fall back before they could run afoul of the big guns on the Zeon ships. Though some of the now elated pilots needed more convincing, Karl was able to get every single GM back to the safety of the Alpha Line before the Zeon ships began to open fire. The remains of seventeen Zeon mobile suits now littered the space around the Alpha Line, and now it was back to an even fight. "And I thought Germans weren't reckless..." Colonel Patterson remarked as he saw the Captain's battered GM Cannon. The cannon and an arm was gone, and the GM was peppered with fragments, a result of his wild grenade tossings. "Don't start with me right now, Sir..." Karl muttered. This is just one hell of a bad time for... "Don't worry, Karl," the Colonel replied in a far more serious tone, "I'm just glad to see you're back. Your decision has probably just saved all of us you know..." "Huh?" Karl replied, too tired to evaluate why. "You've taken out most of their mobile suits, and most of the rest are damaged. You can probably count on them not attacking us for sometime..."
"Oh... really... well..." Karl muttered. He looked around him. So many of those proud young faces would be gone forever now... But if that was true, at least they hadn't died in vain. He started to head for the Spruance's hangar. He just hoped he could get there without falling asleep... "Lieutenant?" Sergeant Martin asked as he tried to call Jean. There was no response. He was sound asleep. "Leav'm alone," Juan advised, "Let's just drag his GM to the dock..."
"Yeah... oh boy has our **** been kicked..." Fred muttered beside him. But he was alive, wasn't he? And that was good... But a lot of others weren't. And that wasn't. "Need any assistance, Rifle?" Sylvie asked Max as she watched him trying to get in the Spruance's hangar. His GM's bad leg made it difficult. "No, don't worry about it," Max replied. He sighed. Her voice had become cold like his. Maybe it was just the shock, but it might also be... "Then please hurry up, my EWAC also needs some repairs," she continued. And Max complied, skillfuly getting in the hangar even with his unbalanced thrusters. Sylvie followed. "Umm... Sylvie..." John started. "What is it?" she asked without any life in her voice. "Will you..." "I don't think I ever will," she replied, "Please, don't talk about it anymore."
John nodded and sighed. This just kept getting worse and worse...
That moron... Colonel Jefferson thought angrily as he watched the remaining Zeon mobile suits return. The fleet was down to fourteen mobile suits now thanks to that idiotic ship-driver General's decision, and now they were in a fix. They would have to wait for reinforcements again, if any was forthcoming that is. Granada would probably go insane once they hear about this... "So... the base remains..." Cecilia replied coolly as General Wavell concluded his report via videocom. She secretly wished she could give him a 9mm hemorrhage.... "Yes, my damn pilots still haven't adapted to the new Rick Doms, and that is the result. Still, due to the efforts of the supporting warships we were able to push them back." "Is the enemy fleet that formidable?" she asked, the change in her expression barely noticable in the fuzzy signal. "They have this sniper. Most officers go down even before they knew where he was," he reported. "Fine, I'll see. But remember, the thirty mobile suits and the two Musais we sent along with you are already a significant proportion of the Granada fleet. Don't expect me to be able to send you much more." "Thank you," he replied with a smile, "All we need is only a little more support to ensure the enemy defeat." "By the way, has Hill been taken cared of?" she inquired. "General Hill has achieved a glorious death in battle!" he replied with a wicked smile. "Good. He'll recieve a posthumous commendation. And Wavell..." "Yes?"
"The Commander-in-Chief will not be pleased if you fail again. Keep that in mind." But you're a lucky man, Wavell. She didn't add, that Giren doesn't want that Dozul supporter Jefferson in command, or I'd have prepared a zinc coffin for you already. "Again?" Killing asked tiredly, "My commanding officer will be back soon you know..." "We've detained him for a few days further, Lieutenant Colonel, so don't worry," Cecilia explained, "Now, how long before you could send them the necessary equipment?" "The Zimmand and Zeonic contractors are getting slow in their shipments, but the main problem is transport. I don't have any ships since all are busy ferrying troops to A Baoa Qu or Solomon." "Alright, I'm sending the Zanzibar class cruiser Falklands and her Musai escorts by the 10th. Could you get the shipment ready by then?"
"The 10th?" he asked before doing a few mental calculations, "Yes, I can." John was feeling numb when he entered his room. His emotions had been put through one hell of a rollercoaster today, ranging from sheer fear, to elation, and now to depression. The 44th was still luckier than other GM teams, but still not lucky enough. And it was Max and Sylvie who were the most devastated. Maurice was Max's closest friend, the only one who seemed to have his trust. As for Sylvie... it was clear what had been in her mind all that time. But now she was throwing all that away now. He was getting frustrated at that. They were both lonely... looking for somebody to fill their lives. But the war kept them from finding that.
He sighed. Maybe it was just because they reminded him of himself and Cynthia... he shook his head. No, they weren't EXACTLY like that. Both Cynthia and I could stand on our own, but we chose NOT to, instead we chose to want to be together. Because it's sad as hell to go through life alone, and he didn't want Cynthia to be sad, waiting for him to come home. The thought of her waiting for him generated a smile and a worried thought. He hoped this damn war would end soon. But he had to concentrate on keeping alive first. The problem was, Zeon would never cooperate on that. "Max... could you continue with your piloting lessons?" Sylvie asked as she entered his room. "Sylvie, after what happened..." he replied quietly. "I still have to fly that thing," she replied, cutting him off, "I don't want somebody to die because of me anymore, I want to be able to make sure I don't get in your way." "Sylvie, you might be forced to fight again," he warned. "I've killed two people anyway. What's a few more?" she asked, trying to keep her voice firm. He sighed, "Sylvie... I know it must hurt..." "Are you going to do anything about it?" she asked quickly. She knew what the answer would be, but she needed to ask him that. So that she'd really be sure... "No," he replied. His voice seemed colder than ever. "Then trust me to handle it," she replied in an equally cold tone. Inside, she felt as if the best part of her just died. Her heart was begging her not to, but she was finally going to kill it off. No matter how much it hurt. Max could not see her heart tear itself apart. But he knew it was happening, and knew this was the only way. Lest he hurt her even more. "Fine then, tomorrow at 0600. As long as Zeon cooperates that is," he advised.
She nodded and left without another word. "This is becoming a nasty habit for me..." Juan muttered as he stepped just outside Maurice's door. "Yeah, I know. Doing this just sucks..." Fred muttered beside him. "Guys... could you let me do it this time?" Max suddenly asked as he joined them, "Alone." "Max..." Juan started. "Please, she doesn't have anybody to send that to anyway," he replied, the grief apparent in his voice. Fred sighed, "Come on Juan..." he ordered, and Juan quickly followed him as he walked away. Max took a deep breath before entering the room. It was untidy, but Maurice wasn't the tidiest person in the world. He sat on her bed and looked around for a while... trying to remember the time they spent together... their meeting at Luna Two... and finally...
"Sorry Maurice..." he quietly told the room, "But I already told you why... so I hope it's alright..." He then stood up and began the task of collecting her belongings.
The crew chief gave a sigh of relief as he carefully repacked the nuke. At least there wouldn't be mushroom clouds today. And, he hoped, there never would. "They what?" Lieutenant General Nicolo asked in an annoyed tone. "They beat off the attack. And they are now requesting for reinforcements," his aide coolly reported. "Request denied," he replied coldly, "And ignore any further requests." "But, Sir..." "Do it LIEUTENANT, or do you want to be a non-com again?" he replied angrily. "Yes, Sir." the aide replied meekly, ana quickly left his office.
Nicolo growled. Now he was in a fix. He NEEDED Malta Base to be defeated. Then, he could use the demolition charges and claim that Zeon had fired one of "their" nukes at a Federation Base. That should be enough to give him the support he needed to fully occupy Side 6 to "protect" it and to attack the Zeon home colonies with NBC weapons. He didn't care if billions more died, they were dumb spacenoids anyway. But that fiesty fleet was doing a hell of a lot better than they should... And he only had one week before Operation Star One begins. Once the main fleet launched, he was sure that Tianem would come nosing around again... "Damn it, Wakkein! They need the resupply now! What are we waiting for?!" the Gorbachev's skipper, Major Tyler McNiel, inquired angrily. "Orders are orders," Commander Wakkein replied coldly, "You must follow them." "If you aren't going to let me, then...." "You WILL get court-martialed," Wakkein advised. "I don't care! I..." "But if you wait two more days, I might get you even more new equipment..." Wakkein replied in a more conspiratorial tone. "So?" he asked, not understanding what he meant. "In two days, you'll OFFICIALLY be part of the 17th Fleet along with your escorts. You can move to Malta Base at that time if you wish, and it will all be legal," he explained. "Wakkein, you realize we might be too late?" "This is the best I can do. But I will promise you this. That self-serving ******* Nicolo will pay for this."
Remarks: - Although many regard Wakkein as a self-serving stuck up moron (which he is), I do believe that his faith laid firmly in the EF and proper regulations / justice, and with a little encouragement could be made to do the "right thing." This is the TV version though (where he does a lot more, including sacrificing himself to save the White Base). - BTW, again, are the mushy parts just okay with you guys? Especially the Sylvie and Max thing (I think it's REALLY obvious now)
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. |
