Gundam Fire Still

"Stupid, because Blue Perestroika supporters don't need to be lobbied. On the other hand, it suggests that the cabal is made up more from the Atlantic Federation side."

"We don't have much of an explanation for that, all we know is this kind of information." Meyer shrugged helplessly.

"You mean the Perestroika elements spread rumors of an enemy attack here to persuade your senior Atlantic Federation officers to activate the self-destruct system if necessary?" Romanov frowned, "It's questionable, but it shouldn't reach the level where your old man at the Intelligence Unity is trying to get us all here. Is there something suspicious about these operations of theirs?"

"Yes, on the one hand, both their men and the senior officers who were lobbied were tight-lipped about the subject of their lobbying, that is to say, the lobbying operations were carried out by them in secrecy; and, more interestingly, we also obtained some other information through technical means. In it, the person conducting the lobbying, which we are still not entirely sure if it was from the Blue Perestroika elements, seems to have produced a very credible piece of information, and he claims that it was obtained by their Boss from PLAnt sources, which clearly and unambiguously indicates that the target of their attack was in fact Alaska, as an extremely secret and sneaky operation."

"This..." The intelligence officers below opened their mouths in disbelief

"Yes, we wondered at first if this was a fake message concocted by the leader of the Blue Perestroika to convince the senior officers, but who knows, it's the real thing," Robert grinned, gesturing to the fierce battle on the small map.

"Could it be a coincidence?"

"We can't rule out the possibility, but we don't think it's a coincidence."

"I see, what's really scary is that if this information is true, then the possibility exists that Blue Perestroika, or the Azrael Consortium and Zaft are in cahoots." The East Asian Major Lin spoke in a calm voice, the East Asian knew well that in all the various internal and external conspiracies in history, it was almost always the betrayal of one's own people who gained the benefit, and he equally remembered how those people were most likely not going to be the ones who had the last laugh, "It's really unexpected."

"Yes, I don't know what Perestroika or the Azrael Consortium are trying to play, but if they were doing that, they'd burn us before they play with fire**." Robert tapped a few keys on his desk and a fixed screen rose up on all of the attendees' desks, "All of our pertinent information is stored on terminals here that you can access, but the network in this conference room is physically isolated from the outside world, so if you need any external information, please call one of our people, and our mission is to find out, in as short a time as possible, what the They're playing some kind of game."

The deep underground conference room wasn't quite able to feel the battle outside, explosions and shelling propagating underground with only subtle and imperceptible vibrations, but the atmosphere here was just as tense as any other command post.

========

"Suspicious person found." Someone so spoke.

After a noisy discussion, the large screen on the front showed the profile of a person to.

"William. Sazarrant, male, Atlantic Commonwealth affiliated, Captain of the Navy, currently Captain of the Fifth Detachment of the Alaskan Base Defense Fleet, openly Blue Persian leaning, one of the most important Blue Persian personnel in the Alaskan Navy, who has been involved in previous lobbying efforts against senior officers," so described by Major Meyer, "his recent actions Yes, there are constant proposals for political censorship and conduct evaluations of members of the Archangel, mainly on the grounds that their reports of contacts with ORB civilians and with North African guerrillas were withheld and that there was operational incompetence. In short, the bases were asked to deal with them seriously, and it was hoped that all those involved would be isolated or transferred out. Of course, all of these proposals have been put on hold for reasons of combat readiness."

Some of the men below snickered, while others looked glum, and it was clear that, whether the man had a problem or not, his actions like this were an indication that he was not a, sufficiently competent officer of the Atlantic Federation.

"And the suspicion is that the Archangel is currently being temporarily assigned to the Base Defense Fleet, meaning that he wishes to conduct this apparently operationally detrimental political censorship of a rather combat-ready force under his command."

"Presumably it's a factional fight, nothing too suspicious, the Blue Perestroika leaners have always been hostile to the Halbadon faction, and even now that the unfortunate old man has fallen from power, they still want to just kick his students in the face again."

"It's probably not that simple, as someone who was involved in the lobbying, he would have known the wind of an impending attack here even if he didn't know the exact information, and it's a contradiction in terms to conduct internal censorship and weaken his own war effort under the circumstances."

"Hmph, putting the interests of the factions above the interests of the coalition, isn't that a common disease of your Atlantic Federation?" Some Maoist yelled loudly."

"So it's not a contradiction in terms," Major Lin from East Asia spoke up again, "if we're right, then their lobbying will be pointless once the Zaft is blocked, and then there will be no chance for them to 'snap' 'Force to Force' now."

"So, if our suspicions are good," was the calm, hard tone familiar to all the intelligence officers here, and used exclusively to report bad news, "their purpose is to weaken your forces, let Zaft break through as far as possible, and then, put us with them in the last Blowing up all the time."

"After he himself, or some of his cohorts have managed to escape." Someone so interjected.

"Of course, these are mere speculations, without much evidence, at least for the time being." Major Lin spread his hands wide in a hopeless gesture.

Ignoring a discussion that was already far more than a whisper, Major Meyer turned for a moment to work on the terminal on the wall, "I have a hard time imagining this being true, but we'd better take it as such. I've reported it to my superiors, and I've also sent someone to investigate, all the Blue Perestroika leanings, the few officers involved in the lobbying, and the recent movements of those who have been in contact with them. The data from the surveillance cameras and their email correspondence within the military system will be sent here for analysis."

"I suggest you get that Colonel William under control," Romanov suggested, "If they dare to blow themselves up, there must be a way they can escape, and once we have him under control..."

Once the man was under control, things would be much easier, most people knew that, and faced with the threat of potentially losing the chance to leave unharmed, he would certainly talk in order to stay alive.

"To control him, I'd have to consult the commander, hell," Robert. Meyer was hesitant, what if he guessed wrong? It's only right to arrest a collaborator in wartime, but if he's innocent, you're in trouble.

But then again, those who worked in intelligence, especially internal intelligence, would always have to face that risk.

"Roy, I'm ordering you to report our actions to the commander in ten minutes, with or without evidence, directly to the commander himself, including our speculations and subsequent actions, remembering that it's not a request for instructions." Major Meyer went to the door and got a few of his men, "You are to come with me to Defense Fleet Command, we are in a hurry."

8. the old man meets again

"Sorry, Major, but you're the only ones we have on hand to move."

The contact from Command came through to the MS Squadron's standby position.

"What's going on?" Karl reached out and lit up the side comm panel, he was a little puzzled that the battlefield situation that was changing on the map seemed to be under control, the Zaft advance was not moving faster than expected, and it was rare for the general command to say something like sorry, much less issue orders in a consultative tone.

"I know the ms is a mobile force ready to be used for a counter assault, but there's been some problems and we've lost contact with the mobile air defences in area B13, we'd like your men to close the gap."

"The squadron can be deployed, no problem. But area B13? The northeast isn't the primary direction of impact for the enemy," Carl zoomed in on the tactical map on the screen, "and the lack of communication could be due to neutron jamming or a lost relay drone, is there something else unusual?"

"Wait, are you afraid of a deserter?" Carl spoke up abruptly into the silent comm line, the east side of the base was indeed a convenient direction to evacuate, Zaft would be hard pressed to get deep into the snow, and all the way east would reach the safer Alaskan hinterlands, meanwhile the air defense unit that had lost contact was a second line unit that might not be too committed.

"No, no, Command isn't going to let precious ms units plug deserters, hell," the command staff officer on the screen looked embarrassed, "The Intelligence Combine suspects a Blue Perestroika has leaked information, and it just so happens that the commander of that detachment is a Blue Perestroika. "

"I see," Carl replied briefly, then switched his communication to another channel.

"Attention all pilots, conduct an immediate airframe self-examination and hurry if you haven't used the bathroom yet. Ground crew please reconfirm weapons and ammunition status, expect to depart in ten minutes, target areas A to B, 12 to 14."

"Worst case scenario is probably those daisies deliberately losing contact and then leaking their people in, right? And then they might have some plan of their own back there, hell," Carl grumbled to the command staff for a couple of moments, "what about their ships in the sky? No airdrop yet?"

"Still maintaining a low orbit, but not into a descending orbit, which is odd, there's no reason for them to run out of fuel there." The commander's staff officer looked at the information, then also replied with some confusion.

"I see, they're waiting, waiting for their ground units to advance into a position or weaken some of our air defenses," Carl said as he stepped on the pedal and plotted a course of action on the electronic map, "Did the Intelligence Integration guys say what those Perestroika have planned? ? Still under wraps? Well, caution is the right thing to do." Carl shrugged and put his hand back on the joystick. "Let the scout planes fly two laps of that area if they can, we can't see as far on the ground as we can from the air."

"The Air Force may be short on sorties, but damn it, I'll talk to them," the staff officer looked embarrassed, but he also knew the importance of this valuable MS unit.

The MS squadron walked the Alaskan tundra and hills with the roar of its engines, Carl could see distant rockets being fired and a red rain of fire passing overhead towards the western sector of the battle; the constantly refreshing tactical screen showed several green dots hovering high above, Zaft's Dinn relied on excellent manoeuvrability to gain control of the low altitude, but their oversized engines were Range problems due to fuel consumption also prevented them from effectively intercepting these coalition reconnaissance, AWACS, and communications relay drones hovering at high altitude. And so far, at least, the map didn't show any movement at all on the eastern flank of the front.

"Why are we heading east? The east is land, and they come from the sea, ah?" Someone whispered a question on the squad channel.

"There's no mistaking the Lieutenant's orders." Another whispered answer.

"Instead of discussing this, why don't you pay attention to your surroundings, or study the terrain of your target location. But I think an explanation would be better, at least it would prevent you from guessing all the way around." Carl opened the comm.

"We all know the enemy is coming from the sea, and we're undermanned so our defenses to the east will be relatively weak. And the enemy, obviously, would know that, and with neutron jamming it wouldn't be hard to get around the AWACS scanning range or use the ultra-low altitude to avoid radar. That's why we're going east, so that should make more sense, right? Cheer up, if they send someone to kick our asses, they will never send losers."

Carl was well aware that he didn't need to, and shouldn't have mentioned too much about those Perestroika or internal instability developments, informing the recruits to that extent would have been enough, or at least they would have been prepared to face an enemy greater than themselves. In fact he didn't want to think at all about the question of how many more of this squadron would survive after this battle. He had seen enough miracles in his lifetime, or two, that a single ship breakthrough with little to no casualties couldn't happen again and again, and there were very few geniuses like that kid who could find a feeling as soon as they stepped into the MS cockpit. It is often only after their unit has suffered a certain number of casualties that the survivors among the recruits grow, not just technically, but psychologically and consciously. Then they will have enough time to understand the fervor of the Perestroika and how unreliable it is.

A lone Dinn flew silently over the line of fire from the ground battle, then clung to the hills and ridges at ultra-low altitude all the way to the Yukon River. No radar scans, no anti-aircraft fire, no obstruction all the way. Just as expected, Rau. LU. Kruse smiled beneath his mask, it looked like the information he'd spent a fortune on was true, and he took a sidelong glance at the armored drawings on the side screen. The route between the mountain ranges had been deliberately chosen, and the other side of the deal came with the added bonus that the place was very loosely defended, and though he had paid a good price for himself, he had earned it in his calculations.

He could hear the noisy communications of friendly troops nearby, they were advancing slowly through an ambush of mines, artillery, and anti-armor missiles, these defenses were causing them problems, but the losses were not heavy, the enemy's refusal to engage head on was telling him that the enemy's forces were indeed stretched thin, the front was already so, then the enemy's rear was an open and undefended open road.

Conducting combat operations with everything in the calculation, controlling everything like a spider coiled in a web, that was Crozier's fighting style, there weren't many opponents who could escape from his strict plans, and as far as he knew, that pesky white battleship was going to be planted this time, as well as that old enemy who had some kind of karma with him. The guy who was able to escape from his own net ended up being an outcast, something that was probably hard for them to think about. If he hadn't felt some sort of familiar chill from far behind at a certain moment.

The perfect plan never exists. The old enemy he misses, Mu... La. Vlada is in the air.

The smooth lines and aerodynamic design of this fighter are not the same as the MS support fighter, which is designed to give the MS a run for its money with exposed ports and drag-increasing attachments.

He was supposed to be reassigned to the Air Warfare School as an instructor, but temporary orders from Northern Command had kept him on, and he was happy to be a fighter pilot for a few more days-not that an Air Warfare Instructor was a bad job, in fact it was the traditional means by which the Atlantic Federation protected good pilots from the battlefield, but everyone who'd come out of Air Warfare School knew how much of a headache rookies just learning to fly could be. .

In comparison, covering a bomber breaking into low altitude while dogfighting an opponent's air combat ms doesn't seem too bad. The composite mounts loaded with heat-tracking fighter shells let him dive down from high altitude to force the locked target into evasion or interception, and it would take a lot of time for those nimble ms to dodge missiles that took altitude advantage to fire while not being as G-restricted as manned aircraft; he could then use the same tactics to suppress the next ms, and then the angry Dinn would come around like a disturbed hornet. with 76mm rounds and anti-aircraft shotgun shells to sprinkle a screen of bullets in the air. Bomber planes with cluster bombs or ground missiles on board could now drop explosions and fire on targets on the ground from the gaps in the air where they were pursuing fighters.

Seeing the friendly marker on the side screen showing the bomb drop complete symbol, he stepped on the pedal, the powerful thrust of the ram engines leaving the Dinn who were dogfighting in circles with him far behind, then he pocketed the joystick and pulled the airframe back up into the air. He didn't shoot down any of the targets himself, but that wasn't a problem, those short-legged Dinn couldn't fly for long, just blow up the supplies they needed and they'd be a pile of scrap in no time, all that mattered was that the attacking fleet had managed to drop the bombs with no losses, and that was enough to be called a successful attack, if he didn't feel the familiar chill creeping up his spine the moment he pulled up from the low altitude The words.

"Prophet, this is Eagle Leader, watch the low north, I seem to be seeing a little reflection." He shouted to the AWACS, he knew the guy was there, sneaky as ever.