Gundam Fire Still

"In fact they're a lot dumber now than they were in the universe, they didn't need to resort to those pedals that slowed their movements down when they were in the universe." Carl said as he shook his head, though he knew that the guy he was talking to couldn't actually see his movements. Those familiar planes were causing him bad memories, and the fact that he was now facing a situation just as bad - if not worse - than he had a few weeks ago, "Besides, I suggest you aim for their pedals, because they don't That kind of amazing armor.". .

According to the original plan, they could have spent a short vacation on the North African coast, which had been recaptured by the Eurasian Union, getting enough replenishment and reconditioning, and then find a way to get back under the control of the Atlantic Federation or into a new combat mission. But a troublesome man had interrupted all these plans, and when the message from Washington arrived, the ever-so-cold-faced guy from the Intelligence Fusion had cursed a foul word, and he had actually been the first to spot the difference in the scantily-clad guerrilla crowd and finally identify her. He had also expected that the person who had reported the MS number of the one that had survived Project X in one breath must have brought some kind of trouble and promptly identified who she was and then reported it to HQ, which would obviously be a good note on his own record, but she had brought even more trouble than he had expected.

If the new orders had only come from the command in Alaska, there wouldn't have been a great deal of trouble, and the generals there would have given logical orders; but when the orders came from Washington it meant that politics were involved, and that was not good news for the soldiers.

The thing itself was actually very similar to what the school officer named Chisaka had said, that the ORB needed to get Kagali. Yura. Asha, their country's VIP, left the anti-plant guerrilla group and made their way back to ORB as quickly as possible, and the fastest transport they could think of along that route was this ship. The members of the Archangel didn't know how much the ORB had offered or what deal they had with Washington, all they knew was the courier mission that lay ahead of them, maybe the two at UIC knew a little more, but they were as quiet about it as they should have been.

The Archangel, which was on its way with only a full refueling, had to embark on a route across the Indian Ocean with a half-filled hangar with a damaged hull, and their greatest reliance was left to the four Air Tyrants under Mu, and as for the battered Ginn and the one MSD that was still operational, it was left on deck to be used as a turret. The remaining tanks and infantry fighting vehicles were naturally useless at sea, and the broken MSDs and tanks had no hope of recovering their combat power with the Archangel's ground crew, as they lacked both professional maintenance personnel and spare parts. Crossing the Indian Ocean with such a force was risky, but orders were orders, and the ship also had a high enough speed to rely on and a ground-effect flight design proposed by the ORB designers, the ability to hover over the water meant it could be free of drag from water and waves, and theoretically it could shrug off any ship that tried to catch up to it.

But as many on board had predicted, one misfortune would lead to many more, and just after leaving the Eurasian Union's surveillance circle in the Red Sea, several of Zaft's underwater MS popped up, apparently ambushing them and their mothership in the area. Roy of the Intelligence Convergence said that whether they were waiting specifically for this ship or just waiting in the area would indicate that the opponent had good intelligence capabilities, but this discovery does not change the situation in any way. The final solution to the problem was a maritime stunt by a good helmsman, after the ship rotated 180 degrees, the main gun with maximum dispersion completely blasted the MS emerging from the water below with a particle beam, but at the cost of Karl's Ginn being hit on top of the hangar and incapacitated, if you don't count the ground crew being hit on the head by unsecured parts or the large number of shots from the galley and personnel quarters. Small accident then. But for the pilot who had struggled to get out of the cockpit, the fact that the airframe hadn't fallen into the sea was thankful enough in itself.

Next came Malacca, the inevitable and obvious opportunity of the route, and any sea commander of normal intelligence would have known that it was suitable for interception or ambush, but they could equally well have expected their target to be prepared accordingly in the danger zone. This could have been a representative hard-fought sea-air battle to be recorded by the poor neutral inhabitants on both sides of the straits; but, like so many other things in the world, it didn't happen as the script had designed, Dinn and the underwater MS from one of the submarines had entered the ship's line of fire, and then the bridge monitors were trailing sonar noises (high speed out of the water) Two dull explosions from the far side were heard in the ship (so less audible), and then the targets turned around and disappeared like bubbles that had shone the sun.

But the good times were short-lived, and new adversaries soon appeared after crossing the strait, and for about half of the, members of the ship who had fought on it since the Heliopolis incident, it was an old enemy that had not been seen for a long time.

And every time they ran into them, they were always in bad shape, Karl thought somewhat pessimistically, and the last time, there had been a G-series MS that could fight, and his own Ginn was serviceable, but this time, all that could be relied upon, apart from speed, was the MSD that served as a turret. On the screen in front of him, the red MS was flipping up and down around the line of fire drawn by the melee gun, and then the vibrations that followed meant that the ship had taken a shell in the other direction, and was now closing in on nothing more than a decoy to draw fire.

"At the current rate, we're five minutes away from entering ORB territorial waters!" The navigator reports over the command channel.

"Received a warning from the ORB fleet on the civilian channel, they claim they will not accept any armed units into their territorial waters and airspace."

"Damn, where is their fleet?"

"Within the border, at least five targets, presumed to be two destroyers and three frigates, exact type unknown."

"Are we turning?" I could tell it was Major Lamias' voice.

"No, hold on, but slow down a little, I think we should signal." Hoffman's reply was restricted to a channel that only the commander could hear.

"No, not to them," Roy's voice cut in coldly, "that's the Second Orb Fleet, the Asha family's sphere of influence."

"That means it's the kid's...."

"Yes, they won't be firing at us, but they're not the ones we want to engage either."

Then the conversation was interrupted by the concussion of an incoming port side attack, "Starboard side, the third CIWS has been hit."

"Send a damage control squad, we need to find a way to lose them."

"Requesting control of the remaining CIWS on starboard side, I can find a way to dry down one or two of them in three minutes," Carl offered somberly, from the screen he could clearly see that those guys were already familiar with the patterns of this close defense system and could effectively trick the computer through strategy.

"Leave it to you, Major, we don't have much time," skipping the CIC and the fire control officer, Hoffman gave the CIWS direct access to operate, most of the terminals on the ship had equal functionality, which meant that theoretically relying on the terminal in the officer's quarters would be sufficient to maneuver the ship. The terminal in front of Carl was also sufficient to perform some kind of operation on the CIWS, although the location of these 75mm rotary cannons was fixed and their armor-piercing ability was mediocre, far inferior to that of a squadron of tanks or MS, but it was also usable against an opponent that was starting to become a bit careless.

"Galen, point the main gun in this direction and watch for a signal shot on the data chain."

"Roger, but I don't think I can hit it."

"Major Frada, can you drive that blue one to starboard, and point it at his ...."

"I'm sure you know I can do it, Karl."

The swooping Air Tyrant fired its beam cannon continuously, a light green beam of high energy particles forcing the dueling Gundam on the pedals to pull up in height and traverse to one side, then a somewhat dull sonic boom sounded and the 15x sonic EMP shell was launched into orbit, the MS on the pedals dodged the blow with a twisted pose that upset their balance, but the sonic boom stirred up a wave of air and the MS's maneuvering itself made the underfoot The flight pedals wobbled. The ensuing line of fire from the 75mm melee cannon easily ripped through the thin armor of the flight pedals as the auto-balance system quickly came into play, and the pilot's preconception was that the melee cannon should now be tracking the feinting teammate on the other side, and the blue and white MS dropped into the sea with the pilot's curses on the public channel.

"I figured I couldn't hit it," Galen said with some frustration.

"But I'm sure you could have hit that one." The data link lit up a bright spot on the radar screen, a set of anti-aircraft missiles from a sideways missile launcher were being intercepted in mid-air in a shower of sparks, a sneaky black MS was looming in the smoke of the explosion, and four missiles on his side launcher had been activated by remote controls from the data link to guide the head. Two lines of CIWS fire were cutting through the smoke towards the MS, of course it wasn't enough, the guy was skilled at dodging rapid fire cannons, but dodging rapid fire while dealing with missiles that were already in the inescapable zone was a different matter. Galen smiled as he saw the guy raise his shield in the direction the missile was coming from, and found the missile's target at its feet.

"4 o'clock, new heat source approaching!" The moment the battle situation improved slightly, the radar crew chilled the air on the bridge once more.

"Wait, that's where Orb is headed." Carl spearheaded.

"The results of the optical observations below."

"This is, what kind of body?" The people on the bridge were stunned.

"It's sending broadcasts to almost all channels!"

"What's being said?" Hoffman frowned, he had already seen too many accidents lately, one more did challenge his nerves a bit "Link in."

And so, a voice familiar to some of us sounded in the bridge.

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=====The following are the author's delimiters===.

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One apology: the submarine warfare section, calculating the following findings on the map myself, the time and speed numbers are a bit off, either we'll have to move the ORB's or some of the speeds or times will have to be reset, there's always a hole and it can't be fixed at the moment.

Apology #2: The next update will really slow down - if there's still an update... That means there's a chance it'll be gone for a while, but it shouldn't be too much of a monitor, and there's a belly draft for the rest of the story.

Welcome to read the latest, fastest, hottest serialized works at! READ.

The Story of a Teenager - Its Fourth - Borderline

Kira. Yamato, the average Twilight Society member, is sitting firmly in the cockpit.

No, in a way that didn't make sense, being able to sit in a plane that wasn't supposed to be in an ORB originally couldn't have been an ordinary event, and someone who could still hold a steady grip on the joystick and put their fingers on the right buttons in the face of an unfamiliar cockpit interface was even less likely to be an ordinary Aurora staff member.

He hadn't thought he'd get used to it all so quickly, but as he sat down in the ergonomic, and quite different from before, driver's seat, he realised he'd expected this day to come.

"This mission is about Orb's future, and right now, the only one who can accomplish it is you." He remembered how Erica Simmonds, the development director of the Aurora, had said this in the newsletter, "It may, perhaps, also concern your future." And then the communication was cut off.

He didn't like the tone, but he opened the navigation interface and then activated the already warmed-up engine.

He had guessed part of the Twilight Society's intentions a few weeks ago when Thor and the others who had arrived on Earth before him had told him that their mentoring professor, Kato, was also safe and sound and that they could continue with their research project; after all, he could see some familiar traces of it in the initial error-filled code of the Combine's airframe. Then he did what he had to do when he had to do it, so rightfully so, the Dawning Society saw his value, as did the Combine that tried to exploit him.

Perhaps it wasn't so bad that a man-whether he was an Adjuster or not-had to use his talents somewhere, and in this case, the best research facility in his own homeland, ORB, there weren't many options that would be better than this one for a Better for an engineering graduate, yes, even if he was a student with special experiences. Compared to the war machines he knew, the Union or Plant were running at full tilt, at least the ORB was maintaining a respectable peace.

But war was real, and such awareness did permeate the air within the Twilight Society, which was comforting, but at the same time a little sad. The researchers and staff here had a clear sense of urgency compared to the near-unaware populace of what war was, and they knew exactly what they were doing, whether it was MS's movement procedures or the cooling system for a certain weapon. In higher levels of secrecy, he had been told by his predecessors, there was also a set of quantum computers that were acting out something deeper.

"Hatred or lack of understanding or whatever is just an excuse, and the nature of war is just the interests of various parties." A young man in the same office once said this, and others heard it and just laughed and said, "Ah, maybe it's like that.". .

"Nah, I heard you guys went to war, any stories you can tell me?" There are also technician uncles who have said so, and while the end result is often little more than a few perfunctory comments and laughs, these are never out there in the light of day.

And the reason for this difference is actually quite clear. Family politics, a somewhat outdated term, can indeed describe the political system of ORB, the five clans of power spread across the island's various industries, and the combination of them is what makes the country itself. However, these are ultimately five groups with their own interests and ideas, and although they maintain the country and support the Asha family as the head of state as a default, they still divide the island into different spheres of influence. And here, the Aurora, as part of the military-industrial research and development system is clearly the territory of the military-industrial giant, the Sahak family.

He'd heard rumors of it only slightly in Heliopolis, since it was, after all, only a newly built satellite far from the mainland, and there was a less traditional and decadent atmosphere among those who dared to go far into space, and things between the several families were as lacking in reality as war to the inhabitants of the colonial satellite. The feeling of being out of place was highlighted by the fact that the old Asha, who was the head of state, was not always talked about in a good manner, and when he had a little time, there were always people talking about whose fault it was that Obu had made a diplomatic mistake. He remembered seeing the head of the Sahak family from a distance at the Institute once, the woman known to many as Lord Sahak walking down the high corridor surrounded by a group of people, he didn't know what they were talking about but it did make an impression on him-. -- at least her above-average height was impressive.

As his work progressed, the teenager had moved further and further away from his old friends, but he knew what they were doing, and it would take a lot of time just to record and analyze what could be gleaned from the combat experiences of the Combine, and while that ship itself was an ORB production, the lessons that could be drawn from combat were irreplaceable by any laboratory analysis. As for himself, he was well aware that he was nowhere near the limits of his work, and in fact nowhere near the level he had reached on that Combine MS, and he knew that the head of the project was aware of that, and he was equally aware that he didn't need to make anything more in-depth for the time being, and there was obviously a reason why he hadn't been allowed to go any further.

Then, for the first time, he met Director Erika Simmonds, a mild woman with light brown hair. For some reason, he felt some kindness when he saw her in the latter's office.

"Actually, like you, I'm an adjuster," she said with this smile, "not too many people know that, but it's not a big secret."

"...." There was some silence from the young man, but the distance between them seemed to have been drawn closer in general

"No, of course, I wasn't planning to talk to you about adjuster-related matters." Without a word of wind or other movement, the office door slowly closed itself.