Gundam Fire Still

But why are you here?

The friendly seemed to recognize him and generally turned away, but the firefight continued, and the female officer pulled him violently and climbed into the fuselage of the MS, bullets slicing overhead, but the continuous sound of gunfire masked some other sound, the sound of some sort of metal bouncing against each other. The middle-aged soldier in a steel helmet suddenly appeared from the corner of the MS's armor and violently pushed the female officer into the MS's open cockpit, Kira noticed that he seemed to hesitate, then a large, strong hand pushed him towards the cockpit as well.

There was an explosion behind him, and the impact of the explosion that followed propelled his body tumbling into the cockpit, his back seemingly splattered with some sort of warm liquid, and his out-of-control body hitting the dashboard, the cockpit, and some sort of soft shocking sensation, presumably the female officer's body. The dark cockpit was slowly glowing with dashboard fluorescence as he steadied himself.

He watched her operate, first curiously, then anxiously. The fuselage slowly rose and moved, but everything lacked the stability of a toddler.

"I was just, like, able to get it to move." The female officer squeezed the statement out of her teeth, she seemed to be doing her best to type on the keyboard, but the teenager could tell that wasn't right at all.

"No, it's not right at all." He pushed the female officer aside in a strong stance he had never been in before as he saw on the corner of the side screen, his companions who hadn't made it into the shelter in time, looking upwards in fear, he knew they were only looking at the body, but the familiar faces on the image the camera had captured and projected onto the screen were looking at him.

It was almost over by the time his consciousness began to catch up with his body's movements, and in just a few minutes he found himself completing a workload that would normally take him almost a week to complete, his overloaded brain making him almost feel like he had lost the memory of those few minutes, but the fallen MS projected on the screen, a huge humanoid with a dagger plunged into his neck, lay solidly in front of his eyes. The eyes of the female officer who had been pushed aside were shocked, if not a certain awe.

The teenager felt momentarily overwhelmed when a clear male voice's question came to mind in the cockpit.

"Newtype, what, again, is that?" The female officer replied so, taking on a certain tone of relief, as if the conversation was about the other being her fellow officer."

"No, hell." That male voice suddenly became a little more urgent, "Wherever the brat is, if you don't want to die inside this machine, go to the Twilight Society."

There was no time to review his momentary slip of the tongue, the term NT was still a non-existent concept here after all, but the unfolding of "a civilian boy who mistakenly piloted a white giant beginning with the letter G and defeated MS with a red one-eyed eye" kept hammering somewhere in his mind, echoing the not-quite-dusted Too long the saga of the One Year War Era. Now was not the time to think about those things, he said so to himself.

Karl let the fuselage pick up the rifle dropped by the downed Ginn, as well as a few magazines lying beside the unexploded wreckage. Overwhelming superiority was always easy to get carried away with, and when that Ginn's pilot had dumped a barrage of bullets on the factory, he'd noticed the rhythm of his opponent's magazine change, which was perhaps one of the drawbacks of live weapons, when you saw an MS that wasn't friendly by any means coming at you, and the weapon in hand had run out of ammunition, there were few options left for the pilot, and it was clear that that Zaft The pilot had tried to draw his melee weapon, but wasn't able to finish it.

Just as the new clip and weapon were recognized by the system, a new alarm sounded from the object sensor. The alarm sounded almost simultaneously with the firing from above, and he lifted his aiming star and fired a short point-blank shot at the white MS that had a hole in the satellite's spindle above him. It was too late to determine the identity of the other plane, but it was clear to him that it couldn't have been a friendly from anywhere. The other descending red silhouette had a familiar look, but now was not the time to confirm that, the surviving G would no doubt need to go to Aurora to resupply its weapons and ammunition, regardless of whether or not it was a teenager sitting on top of it that bore some resemblance to the legend. The body that he was operating had the advantage that all mass-produced machines had, and even if this one was a joint property, even if it had a different paint job, and even if the person sitting in it wasn't an adjuster, Ginn was still Ginn.

The unexpected 76mm line of fire had surprised some masked man for a long time, and after taking out that pesky Möbius Type 0, finding the last of the Union's new machines and then taking it out was a script that would never miss. The first time he spotted the standing white MS on the satellite's ground, he came up with a perfect plan of attack the first second he saw it, but the string of 76mm rounds coming from an angle he never thought possible just shattered everything he'd planned. What caught his eye was a Ginn, and even with its odd blue-and-white paint job, there was no way the seasoned Zaft pilot could have mistaken the familiar airframe - and just as impossible to mistake for the familiar 76mm trajectory, except that This time it was aimed at himself.

From a certain point on, the pace of the fight was out of his control, and it had been a long time since Crozier had experienced such a nasty feeling. Whether it was as a MS commander or in some other capacity, he would lay out his plans into a large web and then slowly watch his target go deeper and deeper into it, whether that was a natural or an adjuster; but now the spider sitting in the web found himself seemingly losing control of it.

It had started out just as he had planned, with the chaotic Combine and ORB failing to prevent the first few MS from falling into his hands, but then the rest of his assault team failed to return to the ship at the scheduled time. He was forced to turn off the neutron jamming, but all he heard was the report of an MS crash, followed by a Ginn slumping back to the mothership with injuries, and all attempts to contact the commandos or the other MS went down the drain. Feeling something was wrong he flew out to the battlefield, and after taking out that pesky old enemy he thought things should be back on track. But now this Ginn that was dangling in the center of his screen shattered his thoughts once again. He had to finish it off quickly, and then take care of the new machine, he knew very well that it was no longer the time to worry about the commando team, after all, those "important people" had already gone back in the MS, as for the rest, no one would care. Siku nimbly dodged in mid-air while the 76mm machine gun and shield tapping gatling gun rained down rhythmically, he knew very well that the Ginn was using the magazine carried by the Ginn that had just been destroyed, those high explosive shells used to destroy the factory facilities were not suitable for penetrating the MS armor, but as an ace pilot, he didn't want to damage his own body in such a small battle! .

That same Combine Ginn was also making most of the high-speed armor-piercing rounds that were falling from the sky embedded in the streets of the colonial satellite with erratic evasive maneuvers and occasional jet thrusts with its thrusters on; but Kruse could see certain signs that his opponent was slowly approaching the limit, such as the counterattacks that were becoming less and less accurate. It was clear that this opponent was a natural, and the evasion he was performing was not being carried out entirely by his own operation, but by some sort of program, a smile appeared on his face behind his mask, programs were easy things to deal with, and he let the machine gun in his right hand keep firing, then gave the tapping shield Gatling a new clip, just throw away that stupid lock-on program and use your own brain to calculate the advance! Then fire.

"Now is the time." The Gatling gun on Siku's attack shield reached its maximum rate of fire for the first time, and the entire clip of bullets was fired off in an instant.

But in the next instant, a lot happened.

A dense gray haze lifted off the street surface of the satellite, and for an instant he lost sight of the Ginn. At the same time, a tremor from behind caused a new window to open on the side of the Seguin's main screen, and the direction of the colonial satellite's mines popped up in a cloud of drifting dust, and then some giant white body broke through the fog.

It was, a battleship?

He didn't need to look at the emerging window to guess that there must be fire snakes from the CIWS flying around the fuselage now, and perhaps a few anti-aircraft missiles, and it would be easy for him to traverse the ship's near fire net, but he suddenly felt something unusual.

The smoke in the center of the screen was dissipating, and he didn't find what he'd hoped to see in the center of the battered, beehive-like disfigurement of the road. At the edge of that beehive, the muzzle of the blue and white painted machine was pointing upwards.

"Damn." The smile behind the mask had long since vanished, and the wings on Siku's back turned on full blast for the first time, the silver-gray airframe slamming through several gaps in the line of fire from the CIWS.

But the next second, all he felt was a sharp flash of ambient light around him, and a torrent of light from another angle swept underneath the fuselage.

Book lovers are welcome to read the latest, fastest, hottest serialized works at! READ.

8. old times (below)

"Yo, nice shot." Yang whistled, and despite his grizzled appearance, the blond tech officer squinted at the unobtrusively bright beam that was making the satellite's inner walls slowly redden and melt. Zero seconds later, the beam disappeared, but he could see a small dot moving towards the exit that was just beginning to cool.

It was a bit of a shame that the target was still moving, but there was a smile on his lips, as a technical officer he knew that it wasn't easy to have a MS made up of thousands of moving parts, operating a particle beam weapon that required precision optical tuning through an operating system compiled from tens of thousands of lines of code, and inflicting damage on the target on the first shot with a lack of preparation, he'd seen old artillery smoke filled shots on Earth, as well as old electromagnetic cannons and laser weapons surrounded by coils, and in any case this shot was far more accurate than those gunpowder weapons of a previous era.

Meanwhile, the departing dot meant that the Combine had barely regained its initiative inside this colonial satellite, and all the Zaft had been shot down or driven out of the satellite, at great cost.

The white ship slowly descended towards a clearing in the Twilight Society's factory area, and the MS that had fired the powerful blow just moments ago was standing at a loss for words. The minutes that had just passed seemed as long as a year, and now it seemed that everyone was starting to remember what they had done.

"No, you... We, you have to get down from here." The female officer was incoherent in the cockpit.

"Sh... What...?" The teenager looked overwhelmed by having just dropped the joystick, the hideous hole that had melted out on the satellite still in front of him.

"I don't know who you are, but the civilian who was just piloting the plane, please leave the plane immediately if you can hear me." Some inserted male voice.

"This is Archangel, communications have been restored, please report casualties and damage."

"It's still a mess." Roy shook his head, although Zaft had shut down the neutron jamming and been largely driven off the satellite, it was clear that the Combine hadn't recovered from the chaos.

He was in the communications room of the Aurora, and as expected, the ORB staff had long since left their posts in what was supposed to be a classified facility and hadn't even locked the door. And it was clear that they weren't going to be back for a while, the ORB residents who lacked a sense of crisis didn't seem to realize that there was a war going on. Roy lit up the slumbering screens and terminals, then gained access to them within minutes - they actually recorded their passwords directly to the computers less than 10 meters away. As the ORB's state-owned research facility, there was enough equipment here to allow him to pick up most of the radio traffic transmitted from the satellite, if not the fog of war caused by neutron interference.

The neutron jamming would be diminished or shut down soon enough, as those Zaft would quickly realize that these things that made the battlefield two-way opaque didn't always give them an advantage. They would find that their Marines or the boats carrying them hadn't gone back without being able to determine exactly what had happened, and they would try to find them, but they would never be found, Roy was sure of that; and the Combine, if there were any survivors, he could thus hear them as well.

He didn't expect to be lucky, as that small group of Marines without heavy firepower could barely survive a Zaft assault team with MS support, and for the first time he thought it might have been a mistake to empty that Ginn's Combined OS completely, if that MS could have shown up in time with that supposedly skilled pilot at the wheel, but if that OS had also fallen to the They'll have worse on their hands... No, no ifs here, he reminded himself.

But the situation sounded better than he'd expected, and Zaft's comm channel was soon filled with all sorts of noisy conversations about not only people looking for their missing Marines, but also reports of damaged and downed MS, good news that the Combine was still fighting back, and fruitfully.

Then there's a conversation that sounds unreal anyway, a civilian, a young man with no connection to the military, flying this classified mobile weapon and destroying an enemy aircraft, something that is challenging the mental acceptance he has as an intelligence officer, even though there is some good news mixed in with it. Hell, this was, or should have been, a secret mission, but now a no-holds-barred battle was going on in this satellite, and then an ORB civilian brat was allowed aboard what was supposed to be a top-secret item.

"I'm sure your presence will be needed at the battleship." Roy turned to the two loaded and vigilant Marines behind him, "I'm sure you heard that a certain civilian was involved in the battle, and this situation might cause some trouble, so I'm sure that tech captain will need your help, and I have some work to do."

No one would think this was a "covert" operation, Roy sighed quietly, remembering his mentor, the man who had hitched a ride in the last hot war on Earth would have laughed at them, the man who had been part of the game surrounding the nuclear bomb dropped on Kashmir, and then played some unspoken role in "reconfiguring" the post-war world, but who was now probably hiding out on some North Atlantic island fishing and watching his own kids on the news.

Yes, the wipe passes he'd done on Earth or getting something out of some dead mailbox was nothing compared to the shit that was going on. The biggest scene he could understand as a field agent might have been creating some chaos or a shootout on the outskirts of some city, but that in no way included using light infantry against MS or commanding a battleship, and even the super agents in those movies couldn't have that much talent all by themselves. And now, even under the best of circumstances, he had become one of the handful of officers on that ship. But, as a former field agent, he was well aware that he could never choose the situation he faced. He had to make himself think and then act, and like every mission he'd ever been on, it wasn't always going to be smooth sailing, but the opportunity was always there. The head of the Intelligence Integration Division, the same Hayden who had come from the farm, must have known the risks involved. Dan, the Moonface's undersecretary, who came from Naval Intelligence, might approve of such a risky operation, but he wouldn't, and couldn't make the call himself. And the CIA-born minister, one of that old fox's best disciples, could never just casually participate in an operation that was almost certain to expose him simply because of pressure from a few generals in the Cosmic Army, and he definitely had his plans beyond this MS program. And he, and everyone else here, is just part of the plan.

Whatever that plan had been, it had now apparently turned into chaos due to some accident, and he even had a bit of a chuckle at the fact that some unknown Zaft commander had let that cunning guy get the short end of the stick, a situation he probably hadn't expected. What was the problem? It's a question, and perhaps a less important question is, who is that guy? Then the other question was whether he could piece together some possible details based on what he had on hand. With enough luck, he might be able to make the battered painting turn back into what it had originally been? Roy thought unconsciously like that while continuing to retrieve the waves flying through space.

==== Here are the author's delimiters ==== Sorry for the long delay. But the next update is probably going to be even slower, and with the busy dog on the third dimension side and some grammar and phrasing issues lately, there's always a need to recharge ah. Anyway, I'm trying not to let it pitter-patter. Above.

Book lovers are welcome to read the latest, fastest, hottest serialized works at! READ.

9. the united fightback (I)

Reunions weren't always pleasant, and some sort of not-so-pleasant memory flooded his brain for a moment when Mu recognized the face that had appeared from Ginn's cockpit, and he could see that the other was the same.

The last two remaining members of Moonface's Möbius Type 0 test team had met again as survivors. Memories of the endless white wasteland of the Moonface could only, and would only, last a moment, as both men were well aware that this was not the occasion for reminiscing.

"I think I need to request permission to board, my ship has been sunk." The tall blond pilot seemed to instantly return to his usual smile.

"The captain and all key officers below have been killed in action." The heavy tone and the corresponding reality seemed to make the air heavy, "According to the command sequence, the one who took over the command should be Captain Lamias." The short-haired female officer stated the facts.

"Sh... What?" The female officer didn't seem to be able to slow down from the trouble that the group of teenagers had caused, and looked blankly at the few joint officers in the conversation.

There was no time to mourn the dead. Mu slapped Marius on the back who was frozen in place - "Take command! You're the captain now."

"I think it's important for me to know how the civilians who came into contact with the body were treated," said Fred. Young, as the only member of the intelligence unity present, knew he needed to confirm this.

"Everyone but that kid is on the ship, that kid is on the raid, and we need to find as many spare parts as we can at Twilight to do that."

"Damn, we need to keep an eye on this guy of unknown origin, even if he's just a kid, can you guys fly that machine?" Jan turned to the two pilots present.

"Can't do it." The two pilots shook their heads in frustration, "The combined OS can only operate normally on Ginn now, and with the structural skeleton and nozzle configuration of that airframe, even if the OS could establish a connection to the airframe, forcing an unadjusted OS might not even qualify as a target plane." Carl explained.

"I remember those newbie pilots had some of the OS they used...." Before Mu could finish, he was interrupted as he had expected.

"Never mind that the intended meeting place got caught in the crossfire and all got lost."