Gundam Fire Still

The task wasn't difficult, the lack of communications coordination made the Union rather passive in the night battle, and the target of the attack wasn't armored per se, but rather rather rather defenceless units that didn't have much to look out for other than a quick break through the lines. The Combined Forces had not laid mines on the desert roads because their troops withdrawing from the front had always needed to use those routes, and the lack of communications made it easier for mines to mistakenly injure friendly troops rather than the enemy. They did not know, however, that these roads had likewise served as easy maneuver routes for Zaft.

Breaking through the lines was in fact easy, a few missiles with anti-personnel warheads, even if the means of guidance had been overwhelmed by their own, and a casual flush shot would have blown the fixed outposts of the lines into flames, and by the time the survivors of them found communications facilities and alerted the rear, their mission would be long overdue. For the next part of the journey, the main screen was still just the stereotypical sand dunes, giving him the feeling that this was still almost within Zaft's control, though in fact there was little difference in the terrain throughout this entire area. The only possible trouble with this mission was probably the strict time limit, and the countdown on the mission clock meant that they couldn't waste any time.

Jettfrid put his head on the scope, trusting this purely optical device more than the larger LCD main screen in front of the captain's seat. The easy desert roads ahead were clearly visible in the night vision, and he had no doubt that Zaft would use them as well, and he had the main gun pointed over the road.

"Do you really think they're coming?" Tariq the Gunner asked.

"At least I think she's right this time."

There was no need to ask this who she was, and that was the only female in the platoon.

"Well, I hope she's right then." Tariq checked the capacitor again, "This cannon hasn't been fired yet."

Jettfrid made no comment, he felt for a moment that it was actually okay if she was wrong, maybe the rest of the team didn't know, but he knew exactly how dangerous he was making the entire platoon do it with him. Ambushing a small squad of MS, in and of itself, was nothing, but if the target was an unknown number of elite commandos, then the danger was exponentially higher. At first he was even planning on not letting the infantry off and being ready to retreat at any moment, but it quickly occurred to him that these new machines were likely fast enough to outpace the BMPs under his command, so there was no point in running away.

"The infantry is in position." Someone was reporting.

"Take cover, prepare for laser radiation and anti-MS missiles, but don't rush to fire, put it close and hit." Even if the infantry was sent out as well, he didn't want to expose the vulnerable infantry to superior enemy fire. "BMP get your missiles ready, use line guidance, no need to take the top, timing of fire you coordinate with the infantry and be ready to maneuver at a moment's notice." He thought it was a good idea for him to get rid of that Weasel, no need to risk that little vehicle here together with the firepower that could only tickle the heavy armor MS, too bad that Warrant Officer couldn't see the enemy's new machines.

"Don't range before firing, enter it manually, get the distance between us and the road on the navigation system, and be quicker with your hands when you fire."

Tariq flinched before he realized the platoon leader was talking to him, he felt the somewhat jumpy thinker had reversed his impression of the average German, but did as he was told.

He soon realized that the warrant officer was indeed right, at first there was just some sort of inaccurate intuition that something was approaching, some sort of trouble, then he felt vibrations, vibrations from the ground that were somewhat different from those produced by the tank's un-engined engine, so accustomed to the latter he felt the former easily.

"Ready," he whispered, as if he were just telling himself.

A set of shadows, extremely clear in the night vision, slid out from behind the dunes.

----. ------. ------. ---Separations--. ------. ------. ---Happy New Year, you all will face some 3rd dimensional trouble after a while, so you may stop coding for a while, sorry. That's all.

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3. desert storm (below)

This is a bit different than I expected, was the first thought that came to Jettfrid's mind after seeing those MS that had appeared before him. He wasn't sure where it came from, as if he already had some kind of vague image of the new machines of the future, but the quadrupeds that appeared in front of him shattered that vague image that had already surfaced and he couldn't remember it anymore. It seemed that those guys weren't so confined to a structure with arms and legs?

Tariq pressed the gun button, just as the captain had instructed, he had only slightly corrected his aiming spot before firing, the shot was sure to hit the target, or so he thought. The supersonic projectile from the electromagnetic cannon made it so that there was barely any time between firing and hitting, and in the scope, a dot of lightning drilled into the side of the speeding 4 footer, which shook violently and was carried away from the center of the road by inertia, and after a half turn, it stopped and began to burn.

The shock of the firing brought Jetfrid back to his senses immediately, and he looked at the glowing screen in front of him, its backlighting distorting his facial expressions and hiding his terrible complexion. The number of enemy bodies was eight, which meant that his zone of four tanks was facing a full two squads of MS.

Dakusta was almost tired of the uniformity of the landscape and the whistling wind in his ears. So when a deafening bang exploded, his brain was almost all but blown away. The onboard electronics immediately lowered the ambient volume of the cockpit, so then the more subdued sound of the gunfire that reached his ear drums brought him to an immediate response. Normal thought and judgement returned quickly, eyes flew over each screen, the airframe was all green, forward path unobstructed, navigation normal, speed normal, right side heat pattern, and on the command interface, three dots flew from green to yellow, while two of them turned red. The ear-splitting scrape of metal being torn apart, though it lasted only an instant, was captured by his keen senses, the organism was finished, and his brain gave the correct but meaningless conclusion. The Adjuster's quick reflexes allowed him to make an immediate command judgement, the mission clock at the bottom of the screen was still beating, "All hands accelerate, charge through,"

"Number 2 is losing power." Someone reported, no longer having time to think about who it was, it was probably the body showing yellow status on the screen, damn, the task at hand was going to be a rush.

"Never mind, accelerate through as fast as you can." As if ignoring it again repeated the previous words

"Your squad goes on with the mission, Marco is in my squad, I can't leave him behind, Ringo team, turn right to pick up the enemy." There was another voice in his ear, hell, on the screen, the two intact friendly aircraft had started to turn, Dakusta clenched his teeth, what would the captain do if it was him?

Zaft was on equal footing between the squad leaders, he knew he should have stopped Ringo but he couldn't, the latter didn't have to follow his orders, the captain had his prestige and a reputation that was proof enough of his ability to command but he didn't.

"Squad one, continue the mission." He said briefly, the aircraft had reached the rear of the dunes again and had broken out of the Combine's firing range, he recalled that he had only seen four Combine MBTs out of the corner of his eye, so Ringo might have been right, Zaft's new ground baku, even if it was only two, should have been sufficient against that number of enemies? In any case, the squad that had also lost one mech was now down to three mechs to complete the mission, but that firepower would be enough to destroy that vulnerable target.

Jettfrid was slightly relieved to see that only two of the mechs were turning in his direction. The first barrage was quite effective, all four MBTs hit their targets, one of the MSs was hit by two shells and tipped hard under the roadbed by the powerful kinetic energy, the one from Tariq started one MS burning on the road, and the last one that was hit was crooked on the side of the road, seemingly out of action, but not on fire, as if the suppression system had worked. The remaining MS was enough to eat the squad in one charge, but presumably due to some sort of luck, only two stayed behind.

The other side was well aware that their MBTs would take time to reload, and they were closing in at high speed to take advantage of the MS's melee advantage, but he could see that the charging MS also had a multi-mounted missile launcher on their backs as a long-range weapon, and they had no reason not to use it.

"Jammers, fire." He shouted at the on-board computer, watching the screen as the approaching MS back sprayed out trailing flames of missile swarms. He wasn't going to test the Neo-Panther's frontal armor or the enemy's ability to penetrate armor. A combined jamming barrage of smoke bombs, foils and infrared decoys shot out in unison from the multipurpose launcher on the side of the tank as directed, he didn't know what kind of guidance was being used, but at least those missiles missed their target and hit the sand far to the rear.

Then two flares bobbed up from the dunes on either side, exposing the MS charge line to the light. The infantrymen in cover began shining handheld lasers at their targets, firing two single laser rack-beam missiles at the same time, and the three BMPs fired theirs at the same time.

Both missiles lost their target and hit the dunes, but the BMP's missile hit its target due to a wire correction. Two small spots of light hit the back half of one MS, it immediately stopped from its high speed evasive manoeuvre and the spot where it had been hit began to smoke or burn, Jettfrid was a little uncertain, the hot smoke and flames looked about the same in the night vision view, at least it slowed down. But the threat wasn't gone, the other MS was still approaching at high speed, the missile that had hit it had penetrated its side armour but didn't seem to do much damage. It had switched on the beam blade in front of its head, and in the view of the night vision goggles, the MS head was a bright white light under the single eye.

The next 2 had started backing up, not a wise move, it didn't have any positive effect other than to destroy the aim, but he couldn't care less, the gunner, Tariq, had steadied on the onslaught and the autoloader's reload countdown was down to zero.

"Put it closer and hit it again." Jettfrid whispered, knowing that Tariq didn't need his instructions, and then even the sound of breathing disappeared inside the tank for a moment. Both pairs of eyes moved with the alignment of the optical viewing equipment in front of them.

I don't know how long it took, but the hull shook violently and the MS directly in front of him bent over on its front legs and fell, the single eye on its head and the beam saber both beginning to slowly go out.

With the 3rd vehicle giving the MS on the far side of the road a fillip, all that was left of the MS on the battlefield was burning wreckage. Jettfrid slowly scanned around the battlefield, several of the enemy's new MS were burning and he wasn't sure if he should feel proud or lucky.

Both of the MSs equipped with Mag Rail Cannons were either paralyzed or destroyed in the first round of fire, the one that was paralyzed on the road seemed to have lost power and at the same time probably failed to give fire support to the charging MSs because the Mag Rail Cannons didn't have enough range. It had to be a blessing that he didn't want to take a magnetic rail cannon shot at all, its ability to smash itself open like a canister in the static was as good as its ability to smash those MSs open on its own. And there were three more MS that weren't turning to attack themselves, and the infantry and BMP missiles were never going to stop more MS from hitting them.

"Where do you think those fleeing MSs went?" Tariq turned his head and asked.

Jettfrid felt his newly laid down heart hanging again, yes, where else could they go? An unscathed 3 MS would be enough to take out that feeble Standard V missile position, if that Intelligence Warrant Officer was right.

"Retrieve the infantry quickly and prepare to move." He plotted a new course on his terminal that pointed to the missile battalion.

Hopefully that Warrant Officer would be able to rely on her Intelligence Integration epaulettes to convince the commander of that Standard V missile battalion that Zaft was headed there, and if that was stubborn, hell, he didn't want to think about it.

Valeria. Warrant Officer Pokarpov was looking at the sky through the weasel's observation port, she was waiting for something, though that missile battalion had moved to safety and just a few minutes ago she had confirmed a few explosions from the original direction of that missile position, those MS were supposed to have stepped on the hastily laid mines. Even if those Standard V missiles had been spared, the anti-aircraft umbrella over the coalition was no longer solid, she wasn't sure if that unit would be able to re-deploy in time, and if her estimate was correct, time was running out.

A red flare pierced the sky, one of the few means of wide-area communication the Union Army had after communications had been jammed, and three seconds later, there was no next shot. Confirmed, Valeria sighed, she'd been right, but the Combine was in trouble. A single red flare could mean only one thing.One of Zaft's most familiar tricks, an ace in the hole they were trying to eat up the Combine in North Africa, orbital airborne.

Jettfrid also saw the red flare in the sky, and "really gave her the right word." Then he saw, in the other direction, a shining dot of light shoot up into the sky, followed by another. "Looks like the missile position is holding, all turn around, take a new course and meet up with the Warrant Officer's reconnaissance vehicle." Standard V missile. The coalition's high-altitude anti-aircraft parachute, while radar guidance was less effective with neutron jamming, there was another form of guidance that wasn't interfered with, the heat generated by the friction of the airborne pods slicing through the atmosphere made each one shine like a small sun, and infrared guidance could easily grab targets whose orbits were unchanging. The only question was, how much time was left to keep firing, and how many of them were airborne?

"Why are there flares? Wait, this is?" The scout car pilot's alarm made the Warrant Officer look to the sky again.

"Shit," Valeria clenched her fist firmly, 3 rounds of red, 'Command is under attack and no longer operational.' "Damn, or, was it an error in judgement?"

Somewhere in the distance, Zaft Army MS.

Antebellum . Baltefelut stared firmly at the main screen of the cockpit, his eyes focused not on the burning cluster of Union tents and cubicles in the near distance, but in the distance, where the horizon was, a few points of light rising from the ground into the sky, "Looks like Dakusta's in trouble." He laughed and stepped on the pedal.

----. ------. --- Here is the author's dividing line ---. ------. ------. ---Let's call it a New Year's gift? Or are you saving your character for the test?

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Defeated Soldiers (C)

Walter was pleased to see on the screen that his Ginn was mostly intact, already on the edge of the battlefield he had managed to get away from the burning death zone, how much radiation he had been exposed to was a no-brainer, and he knew he had to get back alive, taking a few of his sidekicks with him if he could. Retreating wasn't the style of Zaft, who had been playing high and mighty since the start of the war, he was well aware of that, but when he saw the mothership Loraxia-class, which had been giving the enemy a devastating blow in low orbit, and his own safe and sound, explode into a ball of fire in mid-air, he knew the battle was over.

No victory, no glory, no nothing, the sighs of his fellow officers hammered against his eardrums, a feeling of loss he knew all too well from the time he'd been tied and then lost by a Union army in the battle for his MS.

Victory and glory did not always belong to one side or the other, and as he walked mechanically across the endless white plains of the moon then, watching the oxygen readings drop bit by bit, he had wondered, with malice, if they were just taking an expensive revenge. It wasn't defending his homeworld, and the Combined Forces, having lost their nuclear weapons and the mainstay of the Cosmic Fleet, were no longer able to threaten the PLANT satellite cluster; Patrick. What did Sara claim, to prove that Adjusters were better than Naturals? So it's going to take countless young people risking their lives on the moon to prove it? You know the Adjuster has also been plagued by underpopulation; everyone knows Sara's wife died in that nuclear blast, along with countless others, and he is indeed one of the rare, deeply emotional Adjusters, yes, so the people of Plant have plenty of reason for revenge? But revenge itself was meaningless, and as adjusters with more rational minds understood that, but at that point it seemed like everyone was overwhelmed by a rare and intense emotion? Or is it your own mind that is the problem? The jumbled thoughts were quickly overwhelmed by the CO2 gas. When he awoke, he had been assigned a new MS to a new ship and continued to be a glorified Zaft warrior.

But now, the jumbled thoughts that he had thought he had forgotten were back, lingering in his brain and lingering. There was a low sobbing sound in his ear, probably some pilot thinking of his companions involved in the Crater Blast.

"I think we should retreat," he whispered over the channel, there were no specially painted airframes around, there were no captain machines, there was no command sequence in the Zaft army that upheld the principle of equality, but someone had to do something now instead of wasting time and the limited oxygen in the airframe for nothing. Though questions and tangles circled in his brain, he knew those things had to be put aside for now.

"But there's a Union stronghold on our route, within visual distance." A rather calm answering voice rang out, "I suggest we take it out rather than go around."

"If our MS is in good shape and we have enough ammo." Walter replied, it was always handy to talk to a veteran who knew how to observe the environment ahead of time, and while he wasn't a radical and risky newbie, he didn't want to go home empty handed.

Norman slung his rifle at the Intelligence Integration Officer who had lost a leg as the latter spread his empty two hands and then stated that an anti-MS missile operator obviously didn't need that thing, much less take it on the MA.Norman thought he had a point.On the other hand, while he didn't know what he was going to do, for his already overused leg muscles, the lever was Assault rifles that can't do any damage to MS are a heavy burden indeed.

"Hello lad, doesn't look like a mechanic? Um, the anti-MS team? Javelin III missiles ever used? Great, the air-launched models aren't too different from the ones you're using, the question is mostly about the guidance system..." a skinny technical officer quickly greeted him, just as Norman had imagined a technical officer would, and after confirming that he was the only volunteer, began chattering away on the channel with questions that weren't allowed to be interrupted or answered. Norman merely nodded when necessary and focused his eyes on the unfamiliar airframe ahead, located at the end of the journey.