Gundam Fire Still

"The portrait match is too high, sir, and if it's not the person, it's only a Shadow Warrior double, but based on our analysis of ORB political figures, the Asha's shouldn't do that." Roy looked equally serious as he showed the material in his hands to the chief of his intelligence unification department.

"I know that, the ORB part of that report was put together by me." The Colonel of the Intelligence Unity, far away in Cairo, chimed in for a while

This line of communication relay drones that is maintained by the communication drones cruising the air is not stable, and in fact it's costly in itself to maintain those drones in shifts to keep them cruising, but both the previous combat operations and this intelligence-... -If true, all could tell the United Earth executives that the waste was definitely worth it.

"And there were some things that I removed from that report, like the daughter of the Asha family, and there were also rumors that she was an adopted daughter, with rumors of running around various agencies in Obu, but we were never able to confirm that, so I removed that from the report."

"Can't we even figure out if Führer Ob's daughter is an adopted daughter?" Roy frowned, something that shouldn't be taboo information in the modern world.

"In a country like that, where there's a lot of family politics, it's hard for our people to investigate such issues, and it might touch their sensitive nerves that we're going to dictate their inheritance.

." The Colonel, who looked like he had once been a diplomat, looked a little embarrassed, "But this is an opportunity, we'll be contacting ORB intelligence through secret channels...."

"What are you going to do if you confirm it's her? What do we do if they ask us to send them back, our special detachment is affiliated with the Atlantic Federation...? She shows up here in the anti-Zaft guerrillas, this thing for the ORB ...."

"Wait a minute Lieutenant, I see what you mean" the Colonel's head was almost breaking out in a cold sweat, it occurred to him that the Unified Intelligence Division had been working with the CIA on some work recently, "I think we need to contact Washington and maybe Beijing and Brussels, please stay on the line. "

The Colonel was no longer interested in the complaints of the officers of the Eurasian Union about him taking up too many drones and not being able to deploy his forces in the most efficient manner, the Tiger's flagship had been killed, and he himself had escaped.

=====================================

Desert Zone, Time: Unknown, Location: Unknown

"Hey, who is it?"

"Attention incoming aircraft, please identify yourself!"

The blunt, heavy footfalls were something that could not be mistaken for the roar of the engine and the sound of footsteps, though the rolling dunes of the desert and the dust that still rose from time to time in the gale obstructed the view.

"Don't hide, you only have one chance."

"You should identify yourself before you let someone show up, right?"

Radio waves were exchanged in the air, and in this almost deserted place, the appearance of one manned MS was a miracle, while the probability of a second one appearing at the same time was even lower; there was no doubt that for both sides, the presence of the other gave him ample reason to be on his guard.

"We're waste merchants, we're not hostile and we're not going to kill anyone, so you can come out now, right?" After a long silence, a young voice spoke up.

"Yo, a waste dealer? In that case, there's a piece of business delivered to your door," the slightly tired middle-aged male voice replied, "Sending two people on PLANT, can you do that?"

"PLANT?It's not easy to get people over the border under the old Sara's wartime system now. And it's going to cost a lot of money just to dock on PLANT. What? Going to be a spy?"

"You'll guess at this sort of thing, as for us, just rely on the satellite, we'll take care of the rest ourselves; as for the money, not a problem, if you can't trust it, how about this MS as an advance deposit?"

The orange steel quadruped slowly stepped out from behind the dune and stood at ease in front of the humanoid MS whose hand already held the hilt of the blade, the beam blade slowly extinguishing with some particles showing on the edge of its mouth, its red one eye flashing as if the behemoth was showing a smile.

The next update will probably be a little slower, meow, that's all.

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1. old sea wolf (above)

CHRISTOPHER. Lieutenant Colonel Bernard opened his eyes slowly, it had been months since he had experienced such a restful and dreamless sleep, but as the ceiling he saw was projected into his pupils, he felt for a moment that he couldn't tell which side was dream and which was reality. But the slight vibration of his body enough to feel and the familiar faint noise in his ears woke him up immediately, his memories were recalled, his brain went to work, and lifting his upper body he reached out skillfully and clicked on the glowing screen on the wall.

The Atlantic Commonwealth Navy, the Nautilus experimental attack submarine was in the heart of the Indian Ocean, she was originally a nuclear submarine, designed to sail one of the five oceans as one of the most powerful killers in the world.32 vertical launch cells filled with underwater-launchable anti-ship missiles, MK73 heavy torpedoes in eight torpedo tubes on the starboard side, and a quiet unmanned submersible that could mount torpedoes and bombs. The ability to allow her to destroy manmade objects in almost any sea, the excellent sideways sonar arrays and trolling sonars that would allow her to spot her targets before they were spotted, and the two powerful fission reactors that would allow her to dive underwater for an almost infinite amount of time with only the survival of her crew to consider. But she had never actually fired on a hostile target since she'd launched, born after the Reunification War, and there was no longer anything in the sea she patrolled that required her to fire, all of her armament lay silent in her launcher. Faced with a peace that was thought to last an entire century after the Reunification War, the submarine force's budget faced the same fate as all other units' budgets were cut. Only one submarine of this class was ever built, and all the rest ended up on the budget committee's desk.

Some thought that this behemoth, built for war, might end up in port without having fired a single shot.

Still, the erratic hand of fate held her, as did Lieutenant-Colonel Bernard himself; he had heard his father's stories over and over again in his boyhood, the stories of all that had happened beneath the blue sea, the search in the darkness of the deep, the circling up and down the thermocline, the screech of the active sonar and the noise of metal torn apart by water pressure, and the seeds of such a longing had long since been planted in his heart; but when he first By the time he walked up the narrow submarine corridor, peace had become the dominant theme once again. No war, no firing, no nothing; he had served in various capacities on several submarines, and by the time he had taken over the Nautilus, even the boring job of smuggling Special Forces micro-subs offshore and picking them up again, which for his father had been a substitute errand, no longer existed. All he had to do was direct the submarines to head into the naval harbor with their heads above water, instead of sneaking past patrol lines and admiring the lights of the coastal cities in his periscope.

By the year 70 CE, the old sailor, who had learned to search, track, intercept, and disengage, was facing the same fate as his "old buddy," and everything he had learned and known for most of his life seemed to be as useless as the warheads that lay dormant in the torpedo tubes.

When the war in the universe ignited, he almost thanked fate that it hadn't happened after he was too old to fight; when the black whale beneath his feet drove out of Norfolk's military harbor, what burned in the eyes of a man old enough to be called an old man standing on the deck was the same light that had burned in his eyes when he had first stood on the spine of a submarine.

But fate is never simple enough to make things easy, and the submarine that had left the harbor with the best of intentions was back in port again when it arrived, but hobbled in on a tug and spare power. The Colonel remembered circling the failing reactor in the narrow corridor over and over again, wondering why fate had dealt him such a hand when neutron interference from the sky had shattered almost an entire era, and he felt like a small piece of wreckage from that shattered era.

Ashore he watched the news every day, watching the battle on the front lines, the engagements off the coast of Australia, and the naval battles in Casablanca, where those heavenly adjusters had actually formed a fleet with diving carriers, complete with those noisy MS, and he always looked longingly at the charts posted on the wall, if he was still in command of a submarine, against those who only knew how to sail like bulls in shallow waters. Diving air carriers that relied on MS that could only fight in shallow waters where there was still sunlight, and yes, that was a stupid name in itself, and he was confident that he could send that entire fleet down to the bottom of the ocean before they found it, just stick to the bottom first, silent at low speed, and then.... But now, he was stuck on shore, like a salted fish hanging on a rack to dry out. He dreamed of submarines every night, every one he'd ever been on, and in his dreams he was always at a different post, listening to the sonar, staring into the periscope, and the engines, but in the end, the submarine always ended up in a nameless little harbor or narrow cave, slowly decaying like a slowly rotting whale, or in a shipbreaking yard, dismembered into a bent piece of steel, never again to be seen as the original A smooth, teardrop pattern, and only the idle self was left; and then like those round-eyed, slowly drying salted fish whose eyes are opened by the glare of the beach sun.

But now, he knew that he was back, and the slight shifting of his feet and the faint noise of the thrusters seemed automatically calming. After stepping out of the captain's cabin and through the narrow corridor was the command room, the brain of the submarine, and quite a spacious place in a submarine known for its cramped confines.

"Shouldn't we move east, Captain, their supply line should be in the direction of Australia," the duty officer asked quickly as the captain walked in.

"No need, this area is just outside the range of their air patrols, and the hydrology is complex and suitable for concealment,"

"But apart from the mission?"

"While we're on the subject of missions, how about the new propulsion system?" Bernard was pleased that the duty officer was as unsatisfied with the task of testing the temporarily installed power system as before.

"Everything's fine, as quiet as it was, in fact it's quieter without a cooling pump, but the engine still feels weak underwater." The duty officer sighed

"We'll have to get used to it slowly, knowing that our opponents use similar electric propulsion,"

In the aft cabin, the powerhouse that once stood with a nuclear reactor and a bunch of warning signs was now lined with high-energy batteries developed from the Paradise Island base, the surges of energy from nuclear fission being replaced by slow chemical reactions within the batteries, and the water jet thrusters they drove to keep the sub quiet enough to move forward underwater, but it was probably unlikely to get to the high speed of 45 knots it had once been able to reach, but to him, being able to get the sub back to operational capability was better than nothing, the sub basically didn't need radar, and the way it fought wasn't really all that different from the wolves of centuries ago, and submarines were never better the faster they went.

"Anything on the sonar array?"

"There has been no vessel sighting, caught the sound of a small distant baleen whale for air an hour ago, and then nothing worth reporting."

"There have been very few ocean-going fishing vessels in the area since the absence of radio and satellite phone signals." The assistant boat captain added

"Attention, steering to 310, same speed, up to vent tube depth, then raise the photomast, we need some information." Bernard already had some plans in mind.

"Even if the neutron interference is not strong in this area, we can only receive super-longwave communications, but super-longwave communications themselves are rarely used."

"Yes, there are no more decent submarines in India, and the joint Eurasian fleet in the Red Sea has long since been scattered, but do you remember the battle announcements before you sailed? Eua's brewing up a counterattack, it's not too far from here there, I remember the intensity of the disturbance on the ocean is less; and Zaft, how do you think they'll summon their diving aircarriers?" Bernard shrugged, the lack of a data link wasn't much of a problem for the submarine.

"Report, intercepting their ultra-longwave communications." The telegraph room duty officer who had walked in before the words were out of his mouth had corroborated his statement.

"Content is?"

"We couldn't decrypt it, we could only identify their sending pattern, first a small byte of information, then a large, informative section."

"Can you tell from which direction it was sent?"

The translator pointed wordlessly to the sky, it was clear that Zaft was using the orbiting satellites to send some sort of message, and the first reaction of a submarine captain was that this would have something to do with him.

The chart table in the command room had long since been replaced by an electronic screen, but what was displayed on it differed little from the submarines of the last century, "I'm not sure how well their ultra-long-wave communications are directed, but it couldn't be worse than ours," the colonel drew a circle on the chart with himself as the radius." And they can't just send large sections of information without a target to an unidentified place, which means that the unit that is scheduled to receive that information is within the circle."

"I think we can be almost certain that was sent to their submarine carriers, who rarely use this type of communication on other occasions."

"So, what do you think the contents will be." Bernard stared at the charts in front of him, the only thing left in the quiet command room was the faint hum of the electronics, and as a submarine that had been operating underwater for years in a two-eye view without being part of the data chain and without access to real-time information, prediction and analysis were often more important than searching with sonar in the field.

"According to our guess, the first paragraph is a short order, a mission, to search a certain coordinate, attack a certain target, that sort of thing, while the longer second paragraph could be an account of some sort of operational background, or details of the target." What the translator telegrapher said seemed to make sense.

"According to Zaft's flattened chain of command and the high degree of freedom of each unit, there's no reason for them to dwell on such a large list." The co-captain seemed to have made some acquaintance with the enemy during his time ashore.

"True, they're not supposed to be chatting on ultra-longwave communications, but a normal mission instruction can't take up that many bytes either."