Gundam Fire Still

"You guys too?"

"Yes, you landed and fought them, right, and they sent a couple of squads of Desert Ginn to search the desert heading your way, which I would have blocked if I'd tried to go to support them. But with those shambling guerrillas, I wouldn't have been in a hurry to come to you, hacked those Desert Ginn a few guns and got away, took out one and one broke a branch arm and gave it away."

"Good job, Lieutenant, I don't think the Eurasian Union will be stingy with medals." Hoffman stood up and poured himself another cup of coffee, then poured another for the Lieutenant.

"Speaking of which, Mr. Colonel, if it's all right, I'd like your men to check the tracks and dust control equipment on our vehicles, you know, although the Eurasian and Atlantic Unions...."

"No problem, Captain, don't worry so much, we're behind enemy lines so we have to cooperate. Unfortunately your ammunition probably isn't common with ours." The Colonel said as he pointed to the two Super Abrams parked in the back.

"Ammunition is fine, you guys are airborne and you'll have to save your own ammo. If there's a lack of anything, the black market in the town called Azer to the north can get all the usual specs, probably a conduit for waste dealers, I'm not sure."

"But watch out, the tigers may already be watching there." With the sound of the gates opening, Roy . Gail and Valeria . Bokarpov came through the doorway.

"Yo, what's new with you guys?"

"First of all, bad news, the Victoria Cosmic Port has been taken by them," even though it was bad news, the speaker's face did not show any sadness. The listener likewise realizes immediately that this is not bad news for them.

"Then the old gentleman speculated that the tiger should not be in a hurry to strike at us whose whereabouts were unknown. I think that's a reasonable judgment."

"True," nodded Hoffman, "but he probably won't go hard against the Eurasians either. There will still be a fight to be had then, so take advantage of the present, rest, recover, and then prepare for battle."

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8.The Mercy of Tigers

"Rest, recover....." The words were easy to say, but how could one relax and rest when they were already deep behind enemy lines? Lying on his bunk, Hoffman tried to close his eyes and told himself to rest; the terminal connected to the ship's main computer was right next to his bunk, and if he looked up he could see the faintly fluorescent numbers on it, and when he lifted his hand he could check on the situation in various parts of the ship, for the umpteenth time, but he opened the eyes he had tried to close before, then lifted his hand and browsed through it again to make sure that The ship's status was unharmed. The small number in the lower right corner showed the time, and he remembered that the Ensign in charge of CIC should be the one on bridge duty now, and yes, it was only an Ensign, but she was clearly no panacea having been involved in the ship's earliest series of battles.

As he was about to close his eyes again in satisfaction, his ear drums caught some sort of sound coming through the bulkheads that would have alerted and energized a soldier. It wasn't the common alarm sound of the Union Army or the Atlantic Federation, but the shrill, artificial sound obviously wouldn't have a second use.

Somewhere on the skyline was glowing red, something that Hoffman, leaping from his bed, first saw from the porthole. The map of the area had been imprinted on his brain, and as he ran through the ship's passageways, his brain had become roughly aware of what was happening.

"It's a guerrilla alert," Natal on the bridge explained.

"Looks like a tiger shelled one of their towns to the east. Just as the old man predicted."

"It seems so, their jeeps are out, are we going to follow them?"

"Well?" The next to appear on the bridge was Mu, who crossed his arms and looked at the pickup truck on the screen as if it were an ant driving out of a nest through a crack in a boulder, "'Desert Tiger' cruel and ruthless - I've never heard of it. --"

"Maybe it's because you're being pushed a little too hard? Would you be interested in checking it out, you're supposed to be the fastest airbender, right?"

"Uh, me?" Mu took a half step back in surprise, who had seemed to be planning to cross the river but hadn't expected to be assigned a strike mission, "You can take off anytime, but is that necessary?" While promising to do so, I had a look on my face that was too much trouble.

"The tiger might set up an ambush on the way there, or lure the guerrillas into a chase or something, but the tiger shouldn't have too much anti-aircraft firepower, so anyway, reconnaissance it is." Hoffman pulled up the map from the screen, then pointed out the approximate area to be scouted.

"Understood." Mu shrugged and disappeared in the direction of the hangar with a helpless shake of his head.

"So what should we do?" The next to appear on the bridge was Marius, disheveled long brown hair and somewhat confused eyes indicating that the young captainess had obviously just woken up from her sleep, "Do we need to send a doctor or bring rescue supplies?"

"Oh, how is that possible? We don't even have enough medicine or supplies ourselves, so where's the spare time to support them." Hoffman shook his head vigorously, emphasizing that that was obviously not advice that someone with a clear understanding of the situation would give, and that mercy was a good thing, but doing so when she was all on her own probably could only be attributed to a lapse in judgment that had just woken her up to the alarm.

A few minutes later, Mu's voice came over the comm channel

"This is Vrada...confirming survivors." , simultaneously projected on the side communication screen, and the image taken by the airframe reconnaissance pod, the entire city complex was submerged in flames, the image shuddered slightly from time to time, probably due to the shaking caused by the updraft of hot air caused by the burning, but at the edge of the city, the firelight mapping did show dark silhouettes of people.

"It's literally like everyone's alive." Mu's voice looked confused. Below his wing, there wasn't even a shadow of the enemy other than the burning city and the crowds outside of it.

"Was it a ploy to draw our attention and divert the tigers away from the city? Is there anything close by?" Marius seems to be waking up.

"No. Neither radar nor IR sensors are responding, and the MSDs and drones out on forward alert can't see anything." The radar officer on duty shook his head, dismissing the speculation.

"They're not supposed to be hiding under the sand." Mu looked confused trying to make a poor joke "The guerrilla jeeps have arrived and it seems they really aren't in ambush. I'm requesting permission to land and ask about the situation."

"Permission granted, but don't let the airframe be stolen." Hoffman nodded.

The tactics of an invading army from a foreign country against a local guerrilla force with a sufficient mass base were limited, and there were even fewer of them that could be achieved with the small number of elite troops in the Tiger's hands, and even without a report from Vlada, Hoffman could probably guess what the other side was up to.

"This is Vrada, somewhat unbelievably, the casualties of the inhabitants there were zero, Zaft sent out a warning before the attack began, told the inhabitants to run for their lives, then hit the empty city with a *gun*" Mu grinned and smiled, seemingly satisfied with his thoughts "if I'm not mistaken , is taking revenge for the guerrillas fighting yesterday."

"Nice revenge, and not only that, but he burned all the food in the city, so the guerrillas have a whole more city full of hungry mouths looking to them for food, and maybe they lost the weapons and ammunition they left in the city. And a few other towns around here would have thought a little more before giving shelter to the guerrillas."

"And he's showing his 'mercy', huh, the 'magnanimity' of the Adjuster." Roy behind the scenes commented icily, "He'd probably be enough to be called Fox if the name Fox hadn't been used long ago."

"What do you mean?" Marius thought she heard something hidden in that tone of voice.

"Lack of discipline, impulsive guerrillas, what do you think they'll do when they run into this kind of 'mercy'?"

The question no longer needed to be answered, and Frada's face reappeared on the comm screen, saying nothing different from what everyone had expected.

"Such stupidity......." Marius clenched his fist under his breath.

"But it's an opportunity," Hoffman spoke slowly, then connected the hangar contact from the terminal in front of him, "This is the bridge, what's the status of the hangar's hull?"

"One Air Tyrant is under repair, two are ready to strike, one is still mounted to the air and the other is mounted to ground support. The MBT and MSD that went out on alert last shift are in good condition, but the crew is resting, the other MSD is now out on alert, the two MBTs in Eurasia are cleaning dust covers; Major Ginn removed the jetpack on his back, but the rest has been repaired, but according to Ensign Young, the procedures need to be adjusted, and the Major has been in the cockpit for several hours. "

"Have the two Air Tyrants ready to strike, the next alert is cancelled, and the crew will stand by directly on the vehicle once it's rested." Hoffman nodded "Also, shout the Major out of his MS and get him back to his cabin to sleep, that's my order."

He then turned his attention to the map once more, the burning town marked in blinding red, and around it, among several other settlements in the starry sky, there was bound to be one that was now a tiger's lair.

Desert, 20km east of the Resistance base.

Seb. Asuman wanted to curse his companions in the cars in front of him in the angriest possible language, but his senses told him not to do that, and he had to keep pressing hard on the accelerator, while shouting ahead, ignoring the mouth-filling, gritty desert night wind.

"Kagali, Avmonde! No. Get back here!"

"Assad, Said, come back here, you want to go get yourselves killed!"

The words faded into the wind, but the only replies that came back were the smug laughter of a young man and the deep face of a middle-aged man.

Some people are just going to die, and he knows it. Their own homes, houses, mosques, streets, everything was burnt to a crisp, and the enemy spared their loved ones with contempt, leaving them helpless to watch the flames rage and shed tears as they watched, unable to do anything about it. It was an almost unforgivable humiliation for these Sons of the Desert, and since they were warriors, they must take their revenge with machete and flame until they died. He could guess what would be in the eyes of the middle-aged men of similar age to himself, "Wife, children, and the old man of the house will be taken care of." He knew he couldn't stop them.

But others were different, the young men, who were not yet bound by ancient traditions or religion, and no one was pushing them towards this near-suicidal situation. He was almost beginning to think it had been a mistake to take them with him that day. The methods that had been slowly fathomed at the expense of countless lives against those steel behemoths, coupled with the successes achieved that time when a combined force had drawn enemy fire, had given the young men the illusion that the machines were vulnerable pieces of junk waiting to be sold to a junk dealer, an illusion that was fatal, he knew, but those in front with their launchers in hand, eager to try their hand at it. The young people did not know.

And to make matters worse, that child was in the mix. Not everyone knew who she was, but he knew that if anything happened to her, it would cause far more trouble than he could ever understand. But how was he going to stop that group of complacent young people?

Far different from the pickup, the low engine roar had reached his ear drums, but the front showed no sign of slowing down, instead he could see the silhouette of a man standing up with a launcher on his shoulders. Seb turned his head and gave a wink to the man in the back seat, who would also shoulder the launcher at his feet and begin to deactivate the safety on the warhead.

The vehicle plunged over the top of the dunes, and in the low valley ahead, the four-legged behemoth-like silhouette of the machine seemed oblivious to the slow progress of its pursuers in the rear.

"Seb! When did you become such a coward?" With the wind came the excited shouts of the young men in the jeep ahead. Several thin streaks of jet smoke shot out of their vehicles and stretched toward the target.

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