Chapter 3: Reorganization
June 30, UC 0087 "Are you absolutely sure you saw what you saw?" former Federal Forces officer John Paul Recto asked as he finished listening to the old fisherman Pedro's story in his harbor master's office. It was bad enough that he was having enough trouble keeping the old Philippine National Museum in one piece, but with the added duty of harbormaster... "I'm pretty sure, young lad..." Pedro replied with some difficulty with his now degrading voice and teeth, "It was a big fire. Near the old Subic Port. I wanted to land there for the night to meet my granddaughter in Olongapo, but with the fire I was afraid that..." "Don't worry, Pedro," Juan replied as he gave the old man a pat on the back, "I'll look into it. I promise." "Please... my little Angelina..." Pedro begged on. "Don't worry about it Sir, alright?" John assured, "I'll call somebody in Olongapo or San Fernando to check her out, I promise." Still with a worried look on his face, but trusting the younger man nearly forty years his junior, the old fisherman nodded in reply, before carefully stepping out of the door. John could only feel his heart sink as he tried to figure out what the hell had happened. "A big fire in Subic?" John thought, that was right where Zeon had put up an old submarine base that the Federation had taken over after the war. And a wonderfully plum target for those guys in AEUG or Kalaba. He wasn't an active supporter of either group, but he did sympathize with them. He'd seen too many innocents get dragged off by the Titans never to be seen again, and he'd fought in the war seven years ago mainly to keep those crazy Zeeks from mass-murdering the people he cared for in Earth.
In fact, he HAD been suspecting that the Kalaba, which might indeed have been taken from the Filipino term for "enemy" -Kalaban- after all*, had been maintaining several cells right here in Manila, but he had never reported them to the authorities. But if they were just as careless as those Titans when it came to fighting, then maybe... Subic Bay Military Base, The Philippine Islands "A total of two paratroopers killed from the platoon, including the Lieutenant, plus another seven wounded," Kalaba's Sgt. William O'Connor reported as he finished jotting down the numbers, "Enemy losses totaled eighty-three killed, and around three hundred fifty or so wounded and captured. Fifty-two of the dead are from the Federal Forces, so are nearly all of the wounded," O'Connor warned. "Damn..." Cpt. Jean Powell muttered. He wished it wasn't necessary to hurt or kill their former brothers in arms, but... "Doesn't really matter much anyway," Yoko Nagato replied coldly, "This is SpecOp. We aren't even supposed to take prisoners. There is no room of civility in our line of work. And with the death of your Lieutenant, it looks like you're the platoon leader now." "Yes, Mam," O'Connor replied quietly but disapprovingly. Unlike Yoko, who had no problems killing "Feddies" or seeing them get wounded as an old Zeon soldier, he was a former Federal trooper who had joined AEUG to stop excesses like these, and not participate in them. Unfortunately, Special Operations was no school for humanitarian conduct. The mission and the men always came first. Anything else was always put firmly into second place, and never any higher. "Concentrate on getting that sub ready for departure," Yoko replied almost as a snarl as she noticed the disapproval in O'Connor's voice despite his promotion, "We need to get out of here as soon as possible." "It'll be done in just over four hours, Mam," O'Connor replied back, not changing the tone of his voice one bit even in the face of a superior officer, before turning his back on her as she began to scowl. "Take it easy on him, Yoko..." Jean warned, "He's a good kid, and you really can't ask people like that to..."
"If he doesn't, he'll just get in the way and get killed," Yoko replied coldly as she wished she could stick out her tongue at the sergeant just like how she did back in grade school to her English teacher, "That is the way of war, and there is no other way." And not even that idiotically lucky Gundam pilot could convince me otherwise... "Beginner's luck..." Titans' Natalie Dolvich muttered as she saw Ivan Romanov's GM II erupt in simulated smoke. Most of the new recruits were idiots, as usual, especially since she had run an early morning exercise with little light to help them, but one pilot was pretty good. Lt. Makoto Hasegawa, who had just defeated Ivan's mobile suit in a fierce gun and melee battle. "Bloody good pilot, that Hasegawa..." Eaton Hawkins agreed as his mobile suit joined Natalie's GM II before firing a shot that "finished off" Hasegawa's remaining wingman. Unfortunately for that newbie pilot though, he was an absolute wreck when it came to tactics, and the result was Makoto's entire team had been wiped out in record time. But maybe with proper training... "Damn it! Come out and fight!" Hasegawa screamed as he sprayed the area around him with simulated rounds, and not hitting anything except dirt. Both Natalie and Hawkins had hid themselves well, something they had learned from their old, sniper-loving comrade Sylvie Greisser. "Shall I take the shot?" Hawkins asked, "Or do you want him personally, Mam?" "I'll do it..." Natalie muttered back as she watched Hasegawa now moving crazily around the field. He had done well to beat the veteran Ivan, but any good sniper would have sent this moron packing ages ago. Sylvie would have loved blowing this arrogant prick to pieces if she was still around, or at least loved it as much as her hollow shell would allow. She was just so damn depressing back then. Always quiet. Always alone. Always looking at you with cold, haunting eyes and looking as if she really was nothing more than ghost... So much so that she almost wanted to put Sylvie out of her misery by herself... "Colonel? Are you sure you want to take the shot?" Hawkins repeated as he centered his aim at Hasegawa's cockpit. "Yes Eaton, don't remind me..." Natalie muttered in reply before she caught herself saying something she shouldn't have. Oh CRAP! Why the hell did I just call him "Eaton" on duty... "I didn't hear anything," Hawkins replied as he tried to stifle a chuckle. "Don't remind me, Major..." Natalie muttered back in time to see Hasegawa run out of ammo. Deciding not to torment him anymore, Natalie fired the last shot of the exercise. Makoto's GM II was soon billowing in smoke. "Damn!" Hasegawa growled as his GM II powered down, "If only I had..." "If only you had the ****ing sense to think before you fight, then maybe you'd still be "alive", Lieutenant," Natalie shotback before Hasegawa could continue, "An officer like you should know better." "Mam! With all due respect, an officer should come out and fight honorably!" Hasegawa replied defiantly. "Bushido will get you killed in a modern battlefield, Lieutenant," Hawkins observed quietly, adding a bit of sarcasm in his tone just for added amusement. "But, Sir..." Hasegawa started again. "Lieutenant, just get your damn a** back to the hangar and prepare for one NASTY de-briefing," Natalie ordered as she decided that she didn't want to argue with this idiotic Lieutenant anymore, "And Hasegawa..." "...an officer's job is to lead," Ivan finished for the Colonel as he began to power up his own mobile suit, "It's good to be a good fighter, but soldiers are trained to be good fighters. To be a leader though, is an entirely different thing..." "Oh yeah?" Hasegawa thought arrogantly, then why the hell did I beat you? But he was outnumbered by three higher-ranking officers, and he knew his place. He just decided to acknowledge the advice before shutting up. "Idiot..." Natalie thought as she heard the new Lieutenant's still disgruntled tone, before having another string of nasty thoughts enter her mind. A**hole. Halfwit. Nincompoop... "Damn it..." Natalie thought on. Why the HELL did she ALWAYS end up shepherding unfit soldiers for battle anyway...? And PSYCHOTIC ones at that. Getting sidelined was bad enough, but this was just plain torture. The only consolation was that she'd probably NOT get to send these idiots off to combat or there might be a VERY big monument dedicated to commemorating the massacre of her unit and countless discussions by future officers on what an a** Natalie Dolvich was as a commander. Just perfect... Might as well tell Eaton to shoot me now... Or maybe Ivan... Eaton's too gutless to aim a gun at me... "Umm... Colonel, we may have a slight bit of trouble..." Hawkins suddenly reported quite worriedly. "What is it E... I mean Hawkins," Natalie replied, glad that she had caught herself.
"Something seems to be very wrong at Subic..." "Old Pedro certainly wasn't lying..." John muttered angrily as he dialed the telephone again, only be greeted by the now familiar and annoying tone of a busy number. Great... "How about trying to call Tuguegarao or Laoag? Aren't they of a different line?" John's wife, Cynthia Patterson, suggested as she nursed their youngest child. Not even eight months old yet, the newest addition to the Recto family was nevertheless as active as his parents, and Cynthia was simply delighted to have another child in the family. Her only regret was that she STILL haven't had a girl... "The Laoag line is also dead," John replied as he tried to disguise the fatigue in his tone, "And Tuguegarao station is getting the same thing as I am. It really does look like Subic's been hit. Along with Olongapo..." "Maybe we should try contacting somebody now?" Cynthia suggested, albeit more worriedly as she drew her child closer to her, though still trying to be gentle at the same time, "Maybe Mayor Fernendez... he probably knows..." "Umm... Cynthia, you DO remember we don't exactly see eye to eye, do you?" John replied with a slight touch of nervousness mixed in his voice. The touch of nervousness he ALWAYS applied when he was talking to his wife when he wanted to a disagree with her. And something Cynthia had grown to love for the past four years. John would always be hers alone, and he'd do anything to stay that way, a fact that made her love him all the more... "I remember..." Cynthia replied with a smile as he remembered their first run-in with Manila's new mayor. Fernendez had wanted to demolish the old museum when he was elected in favor of a new park, and that had mortified John and much of the original citizens of Manila. In the end, after a couple of rather fierce sparring matches in the town council which almost resulted in John getting nominated for the mayoral elections, it was decided that the tourism revenue from the museum was too great a loss to bear. Besides, the old Rizal Park was still around, even though it still had centuries old slides and swings. But it was already a year since then, so... "But it's been a while since we've actually seen him. Maybe his mood has improved some..." "The man's more stubborn than a mule..." John warned, "Besides which..." John started before deciding to stop himself. He still wasn't sure anyway, but it did feel as though what he suspected was very probable. His suspicion that Fernendez was part of Kalaba, and one who seemed to be the type who'd keep the rebel organization's secrets at all costs... "Besides which?" Cynthia continued for John as she raised an eyebrow in a rather impish way, "And no lies, John Paul." "I..." John started before deciding that it probably wasn't worth a small fight with Cynthia, "... I think he's more involved in the splendid little war** that's going on than he says he is..." "So is that why he's raising a couple of militia companies?" Cynthia asked, remembering how some of her students, her profession being a History teacher, had been spending some of their after-class hours tinkering with a couple of ancient M1 Garands and rudimentary marching drills. "Probably..." John conceded, "But I don't think those companies would make any difference though. When the best weapon you've got is a pre-UC M-16, you won't last too long against Titans or Federal troops. I do have to talk to him about that..." "And if you are, then you'd better add in your request to contact Subic..." Cynthia added with a slight grin. "Do you ALWAYS have to prod me into doing things I don't like?" John asked in a more relaxed tone as he decided to get up and sat right beside his wife. Cynthia smiled in return. "Nope, I just prod you into doing the RIGHT thing..." Cynthia replied as she led John's hand to her son's head. "Fine..." John muttered jokingly in reply, but nevertheless still feeling great contentment in his heart. He was the father of two now, and now... "Speaking of prodding, you know that when we're together at..." "Later tonight John, later," Cynthia ordered, but still smiling sweetly, "Little Antonio will be home soon... But for now..."
Cynthia then stood up, and kissed John lightly on the cheek. It was certainly all they both needed for now... "I want three more Don Escargots, and another pair of Flat Mouse," Natalie growled over the radio to Madras Base, "And no, I don't give a damn if..." "Mam, I'd really like to help you..." the Madras' tower controller started again, "But we simply don't have enough aviation fuel to..." "I know bloody well on what you do with your aviation fuel," Natalie growled, remembering just how much material was being lost "on the side" in the Asian territories thanks to a couple of... "enterprising" Federal officers. But this was absolutely ridiculous, "So I give you a choice: Get me every damn single plane from your base down here to Saigon in six hours or you give me your service number and the name of your commander right now so I can have you BOTH shot dead once this is over!" "But, Mam..." the controller started. "Service number and commanding officer's name!" Natalie shouted into the radio, "NOW!!!" "I... I..." the Madras' controller stammered. "NOW!!!" Natalie repeated as she screamed into the radio. "Three Flat Mouse, six Fly Manthas, two Dep Rogs, a Dish, and six Don Escargots will be enroute to you, Mam..." the controller reported, defeated, "Additional six Sabrefishs available to escort them." "Good," Natalie replied, still wanting to tear the guy on the other end of the line to pieces with her bare hands, literally, "Six hours, or you're dead. Dolvich out." "Watch your blood pressure, Mam, perhaps you may die of massive cardiac muscle failure than in a way that is more... timely," Hawkins observed rather cheerfully. He had... grown fond of Natalie's near psychotic ravings. It gave balance to her tough, orderly demeanor, and much needed release for her soul... "Hawkins, don't start with me right now..." Natalie muttered as she took a look at her map. Timely? Natalie thought as her mind drifted once more. Timely death? What the hell did that suppose to mean? "Umm... Colonel, I do hope I did not cause any undue... distraction," Hawkins replied more worriedly, "We MAY find ourselves in combat very soon..." "I know..." Natalie muttered, "And don't worry, you aren't really that much of a distraction... Just don't leave your a** hanging out in the wind like you used to do. Sylvie will NOT be here to bail you out." "I shall endeavor to remain alive to continue to serve you mam," Hawkins replied courteously, to which Natalie felt like smashing her head into the wall for some reason or another... Damn, she thought, she really needed to... "Colonel! I think I've just a found a recce group that can get to Subic within the hour," Ivan reported as he burst into Natalie's office, "I've found a flight of three Fly Manthas enroute to Torrington from Beijing. They've just made a small refueling stop over New Hong Kong, and they should be only around twenty minutes from Subic by now. What are your orders, Mam?" "Order them to make a couple of passes over Subic," Natalie ordered, glad that she would finally find SOMETHING about that damn base other than a garbled, incomplete transmission from one of its subs detailing a sudden AEUG attack, "And for pity's sake, tell them to just OBSERVE. Don't fight."
"Consider it done, Mam," Ivan replied, before quickly turning and beginning to dash towards the radio room. The message was sent only moments after. "Got anything?" Jean asked as he passed by the tracked radar vehicle they had brought along in one of the Mideas. They had wrecked the base's radar early on in the battle, so it was already decided to bring along a replacement. Several blips on the screen told Jean it was a wise precaution. "Yes, Sir," the technician reported, "I've got three fighter types coming in awfully close to the base. They look like Fly Manthas or Sabrefishs, and I can't really tell yet with the range. They might be heading for Port Moresby or Torrington, or maybe even Kuala Lumpur, but..."
"I know..." Jean replied, and hoping that those Titans weren't reacting faster than expected, "Contact Blinder flight. We just might have some business for them..." "This is Flight 1-0-3, Subic base, please respond," the pilot of the lead Fly Mantha hailed over the radio. He frowned. There was once again no response, and if... "Maybe they've just suffered some communication problem," a second pilot suggested. "Or those Titans idiots at Saigon are getting all paranoid..." the third added. "Quiet you two..." the flight leader ordered as he grimaced. This might get REALLY hairy indeed... "Check the Minovsky particle density, and let's see if we can get anything on radar from Subic." "Heavy," the second pilot reported, "Heavy enough to cloud our radars a bit. But sir, they HAVE been testing new mobile suits in the base, maybe..." "Or maybe it was a battle like HQ said," the leader shot back, annoyed, "Keep your eye peeled for anything..." "Whoa... I think I just got a visual ID of something..." the third pilot reported, "Two o'clock! Up high! It looks like on an old Jet Core Booster..." "Does Subic have any JCBs?" the flight leader asked nervously as hairs began to rise on the back of his neck. Was he...
He never did complete the thought. His plane suddenly shuddered as it took a hit, just before the fuel tanks went off. He was killed instantly. "One down..." AEUG Lt. Olivia Sondergard thought as the first Federal Fly Mantha went down in flames. She hadn't been detected, as she had expected, in her "modified" Jet Core Booster: A VERY modified Jet Core Booster. One that was stealthier, better gunned, more maneuverable, VTOL and space-capable, unlike the old Tin Cods she had flown during the war. And these were all qualities she was using to the maximum effect. The two other surviving Fly Manthas had broken off after the death of their flight leader, and she quickly tore after one of them while her wingman dealt with the second. Her target tried to fly low, not realizing that she was already right behind him. She closed to gun range, and fired off a burst. The deflection was bad, and only one of the shots managed to hit, chipping off part of the wing. The Fly Mantha's pilot, now realizing his vulnerability, tried to climb as he increased speed, before trying to roll to the right to shake her off. But Olivia hung onto him, and her new Jet Core Booster was better at turning than the vintage Fly Mantha. As the Fly Mantha pilot paused to try something else, she fired off another volley, this time hitting the engines and turning the Fly Mantha into a yellow-orange fireball as its fuel tanks cooked off. No parachute appeared.
By this time, her wingman had also brought the third Fly Mantha up his sights, and fired off a burst. The bullets punched big, ugly holes in the port wing of the Fly Mantha, and the plane began to lose altitude. Olivia tore after it even as her wingman broke off after overshooting the now decelerating Fly Mantha. She dialed her sights on the Fly Mantha's cockpit, mindful of not decelerating too much as to cause herself to stall, before firing once again. The shells hit the Fly Mantha's fuselage just behind the cockpit, the whole front section of the plane suddenly broke off. Olivia watched as both pieces, the pilot still in the cockpit, spin uncontrollably in its long decent towards the sea... "Flight 1-0-3, respond!" Ivan screamed into the radio after a last, garbled called for help from one of the pilots. All that greeted him was static...
Author's Remarks: - *Just a little theory of mine. The Gundam saga has occasionally taken some Filipino terms (Magnuacs from Gundam Wing being one), and Kalaba was so close to Kalaban (which literally means enemy) that I made the slight assumption :-). - ** First quoted by John M. Hay, US Ambassador to Britain, at the outbreak of the Spanish-American War which resulted in the Philippines coming under US control. Just a little historical native tidbit ^___^.
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. |
