Chapter 27: The Plan"Lieutenant Sylvie Gressier reporting," Sylvie declared as she entered the hangar. She was one minute early for her lessons. "Good to see you're still punctual, Sylvie," Max commented quietly. "If you don't mind, let's just get started," she replied in a tired tone.
Max simply nodded, and opened the GM Trainer's cockpit.
The Gorbachev eased it's way slowly out of Luna Two's dock. Commander Wakkein had been true to his word, and had given Gorbachev's skipper Tyler McNiel a brand new type of Guncannon a day ahead of schedule. "A good enough gift," he hoped, for the 17th fleet. Technically, he was launching one day ahead of their agreement, but after further discussion Wakkein had allowed him and his escorts, the cruisers Actium and Quatre Bras, to launch for a "border patrol." He really needed to find that guy a good bottle of rum when he got back... "You've improved," Max told Sylvie as she finished a series of complicated maneuvers, "I think we can call it a day." "What about gunnery practice?" she inquired. "Are you sure? EWACs aren't supposed to engange in combat," he reminded. "Yes, I'm sure," she replied coldly.
"Alright... let's get to the firing range..." "Good day, Sir, want the usual?" the bartender asked as one of his best customers entered his little pub. He looked just like another ordinary engineer who plied in and out of Granada, but he had a far different job. "Yeah, and it's not the shaken vodka martini, alright?" he replied with a grin. The bartender's eyebrows went up a notch. That was the signal, "The house cocktail then, gimme a minute, Sir..."
The man nodded and paid the bill beforehand. Nobody could have seen a tiny piece of microfilm he had tucked neatly between the bills. Encoded in it were two documents. The first detailed Shoemaker's death. The second spoke of a rushed shipment that was to be delivered on the 10th. Within hours both documents were in the hands of Federation high command. "What the hell do you mean I'm a 1st Lieutenant now?" Jean asked as he read the document. "Dunno sir, but orders are orders. Looks like you're second in command of the MS force now," Sergeant Nance explained. "Why me?" he muttered. "Because you kept your cool I guess, Sir..." Nance explained, "And you've got plenty of experience." "Not with command..." he muttered. "Hell, you did a pretty good job running those Zeeks down. You'll do well, Sir, trust me. The rest of the boys look up to you and the Captain now." "Oh, really?" he asked, surprised at his stature. "Yes Sir, and the boys are asking for some extra training time with you. After the **** they've gone through, they don't want to have their ***es kicked like that again. They lost a lot of good friends sir," he explained.
"Well then, I'm not a great instructor but..." "Wakkein! What do you mean you sent them the documents?!" Lt. General Nicolo shouted angrily over the videocom. Wakkein's facial expression did not change. "They were on the list of the recipients, Sir. That's why I sent them a copy," he replied coolly. "That's MY fleet..." "Excuse me, but that fleet is not your personal property, it is the Federation's." "Oh, and YOU'RE supposed to be a paradigm of justice now. How do you explain the Gorbachev's early departure?" "Major McNeil is under the jurisdiction of the 17th Fleet now. He could do as he wishes as long as Brigadier General Dolvich has no complaints," he replied almost with a smile. "I ordered him to..." "Sir, I suggest you calm down. What's done is done. I'll simply report this to Admiral Tianem when the time comes." "Wakkein..." General Nicolo started before Wakkein switched off the commlink. His aide behind him was chuckling. "Something funny?" he asked sternly. "Sorry Sir," the aide replied, regaining his composure, "What do I say if he calls back?" "Oh, he won't. Start scattering Minovsky particles from the new ships. We want to make sure they work, don't we?" Wakkein replied.
"Yes, Sir!" the aide replied enthusiastically. He grinned. That ******* Wakkein had it in him after all... Nicolo muttered a curse. That Wakkein was going to ruin everything, and now... "General Nicolo, Admiral Tianem wants to speak with you," his aide reported. "What for?" he asked in an annoyed tone. "He says you're being transferred... you're going to launch with him when Operation Star One begins," the aide explained.
"Alright, fine... I'll get to him immediately..." he replied, trying to control his temper. He needed to think of a good explanation didn't he? But he could still execute his plan. After all, even if Dolvich knew about the shipment, he couldn't do anything about it could he?
Major Alfonso breathe a sigh of relief as he finally stepped out of Admiral Tianem's office. Meeting with the top brass was always scary, particularly since he was new here. Just after John had been reassigned from the Skate, General McCampbell had also reassigned him, this time to be the XO on the new Salamis class cruiser Borodino. He didn't complain. Surface ship officers were a dying breed, and this was probably a chance for him to keep his commission. Besides, it was a chance to be part of history. He'd been to what was probably the last battle that included surface warships, and now he was getting a chance to see the downfall of Zeon. He wondered if he'd meet John up there. "Uhhh..." John started as he pored over the data, "Gimme a few minutes, Sirs..." "Look, don't be intimidated, Recto. But do remember your job," General Dolvich explained. John nodded nervously. It was easy to be nervous when you're a Second Lieutenant surrounded by flag officers, even if your Captain and skipper were vouching for you. But he was there for a reason. He was there to find out what route the Zeon resupply ships were taking, and he couldn't fail Colonel Patterson and Captain Karl. "Alright, Sirs... if this document is true then the fleet would be leaving on the 10th, right sir?" The General nodded, it seemed that much was obvious. "And we need to clobber these ships before they get here..." he continued, taking a deep breath before going on, "Alright, Sir... the resupply fleet will be composed of six ships. A pair of Papuas, three Musais, and a Zanzibar..." "Yes, yes..." Major Martel interrupted in an annoyed tone. John hadn't told them anything they hadn't known yet. "There are seven main routes that the Zeeks could take to get to our position," John explained as he showed them seven different colored lines on the map display, "We can rule out routes one, three, five and seven since those routes are too narrow for the Zanzibar. Now I can assume they'll be in a hurry, right Sir?" he inquired. "Yes, unless they want to wait for OUR reinforcements," the General replied quietly. "Then we can rule out route six, too, because it's a long twisted route and it'll slow down the progress of the fleet. That leaves two routes they can take..." "Which one do you think they'll be taking, Lieutenant?" the Colonel asked. Come on John, put your nickname to good use. John took a deep breath. He shook his head. Both were too similiar, he could not possibly figure out which. He had to find a compromise... "I don't know, Sir. But Sir, the question should be where should we station the blocking force..." "Lieutenant..." Major Martel warned. His job was to figure out what the enemy was up to, not to tell them what to do. "What do YOU think," General Dolvich asked, intrigued. Wondering if they had the same idea... "Alright, Sir... I assume we'll be sending out the Spruance, the Anzio and the Gloucester, right Sir?" "Yes," the General replied coolly. "And how many mobile suits, Sir?" he further inquired. "Just us," Captain Karl explained. John nodded. Oh ****, it wouldn't be enough... but he had to make it work, "We should spilt the ships and the mobile suits up..." "Hold it... hold it..." a new voice interjected. It was Yang. "Give him a minute, Colonel," General Dolvich intervened. Can you read my mind, too, Magic? "We'll station the fleet here," he explained, pointing to what was Side 2's 43rd Colony, "While the MS force here," pointing to Side 2's 12th Colony, "That way sir, we can cover BOTH routes." "I doubt that mobile suits or warships alone could win against a force possesing more of both," Major Martel replied sharply. "Actually no, Sir..." John explained, "You see, their standard formation is to put most of the warships, probably the Zanzibar and two Musais, forward, while the Papuas and a Musai in the rear..." "So?" Martel asked, not understanding the point. "I've positioned both forces so that once the enemy fleet makes contact with one of our groups, the second one could sweep in from behind and attack the Papuas. The Papuas could hold the most amount of equipment, and they should be our priority targets..." "Why don't you just figure out which route they're taking so we can concentrate our forces there?" Martel asked. "Sir, because there's only a fifty-fifty chance that I'll be right. And we'll most likely be only able to sink the warships and not the Papuas if we meet'm head on. A Zanzibar can carry a big complement of mobile suits, but it's smaller than a fully loaded Papua's. Besides, Sir, that Zanzibar may just be there purely for escort and have other duties to attend to afterwards," he concluded. Dolvich grinned. In reality, both he and Colonel Patterson had already thought out the same plan, but had called John anyway on the off chance he'd figure out which route Zeon was going to take. He didn't, as expected, and was honest about it. But he'd also come up with the same plan as the two most senior members of the group. That kid would make one hell of an officer someday... "Alright, so any complaints about the plan?" Martel leaned forward and frowned, he still didn't like it. But the kid was right, so... "I have no more objections." "Same here," Lieutenant Colonel Yang agreed. Ya, he thought, why didn't I think of that? "Let's do it!" Major Miles declared with a nod. "Alright, thank you Lieutenant, you can leave now..." the General ordered, and John was only too happy to leave. The Captain followed him. "John..." the Captain started as the door shut behind him. "I know... gone WAY over my..." "No, good job kid," the Captain commended, "What you said was actually the General's original plan, would you believe..." "You've got to be kidding..." John replied. "I'm not," the Captain replied firmly, "He'd already briefed me on it, and he wanted somebody with a lower rank like me to explain it to the rest of the officers, but you beat me to it." "Why the hell would he do that, Sir?" he asked, confused. "Because if somebody with a lower rank could convince the rest of the brass that it could work, then it WOULD work. It's a lot easier to nitpick a Lieutenant than a General you know..." the Captain explained. "That is a little weird..." John replied.
"No, it's just one of the tricks of command." "So is he going to be your son-in-law?" General Dolvich asked Colonel Patterson once they were alone in the room. The plan had been agreed upon, but he was still interested in that kid... "How..." Colonel Patterson started. "Major Martel saw him with your daughter, Colonel, don't worry only the three of us and Sergeant Chan knows," the General explained with a smile. "I'm... I'm not sure, Sir. It's Cynthia's choice, not mine," he replied. "You don't want the same thing to happen to them, eh?" he asked. His marriage to Patricia von Bock had been no secret, and had caused one hell of a ruckus in the officer corps. "Yes, Sir," Sean replied quietly, remembering the time he and Patricia spent together. "Well then, I suppose you'd better take good care of that kid..." the General added jokingly. "Sir, I will not be nepotistic," Sean replied defiantly. He was a man of his principles, and that was one of them.
"I know that, Sean, I know that," the General replied firmly. But don't take it for granted, he didn't add, or you might end up losing your daughter's love too... Like me. Sylvie stretched her arms before she entered her room. She was bone tired. Two straight days of intensive pilotting lessons had seen to that, and Max was still a stern trainer. But she had improved, a lot, particularly in marksmanship. She now had a ninety percent accuracy rating compared to her initial ten percent, and her beam sabre skills were among the best in the fleet. The improvement on the rest of the troops had also been remarkble, and the Captain estimated that their effectiveness had increased by as much as two hundred percent. Seeing many friends die was part of their motivation, not wanting not to see that again was an even greater one. She laid down on her bed and looked at the two framed photographs in the desk beside her bed. One picture was of her and her father and sister. She sighed. It was the only picture of them together. Damn it Dad, she thought to herself angrily, why couldn't you care for me? I know you were mad at me because mom died giving birth to me... but I'm still your daughter aren't I? And I still love you... Or am I really just that difficult of a person? Even Big Sis tells me that... maybe I should write to you...
She stood up and thought for a moment. "Yeah," she told herself quietly, "Why not?" She'd never done so after she'd joined the military over his objections, she thought to herself, and she had always been afraid that he would not write back. He would, wouldn't he? she thought and hoped. She started to search for a pen on the table. While searching her gaze shifted to the other photo. The memories it held were even more painful. It was of her and Max, in his now dead home colony. She quickly turned that photo face down into the table, before resuming her search.
Max sighed as he looked at her picture. He often wondered if he had done the right thing. He sighed again. even if it wasn't, he could never change anything now... "Oh boy... this'll be hairy..." Major Miles muttered quietly as his cruiser entered the western minefield. This field had been laid by the Federation engineers to ensure that Zeon could not use this route to outflank the Alpha Line, but he had to disassemble part of it now to give Patterson's fleet a way out. They didn't have enough resources to try to break through the Zeon lines, so Patterson would have to take this runabout route. It would be hairy, but the engineers on the K-Type Balls knew what they were doing. They would be done by the tenth.
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. |
