Gundam Fire Still

"Then you'd better hurry, the next mission will definitely involve dealing with Zaft's elite troops."

"Elite troops? I've fought them all in Ginn back in the day, and I'm not far behind with an old airframe. If I have a mission in a few days, I'm sure I'll have to fly a short sword."

"In your opinion, how long would it take to debug the program at the earliest?"

"It's about a week away, which would be quicker if my old Integral Chief in Alaska was here, this time in a hurry, and the supporting Integral Group wasn't available. When the programming is done, it'll be possible to go into battle with the G instead, it's obviously top-notch, just a bit extreme in design."

"The good airframes can be in the hands of your Atlantic Federation," Eurasia's Lieutenant Colonel looked envious.

"Seriously, Colonel, I'm still not a fan of the over-specialized airframe, it's not productive, on the battlefield our squadron's short swords can't easily keep up with the acceleration of the X-series, those newbies will still run out of fuel trying to keep up, and the special airframe will attract more attention from the enemy. If I had the time, I'd rather wait for the next batch of short swords, block-105 as I recall? or the long blades to come off the line."

"I'm afraid you won't be able to wait that long," paced the base intelligence chief in Eurasia, "It's a mess in the universe right now, there was a ship forced out of PLAnt the other day, presumably related to their manhunt for Kleinites, with three NASCARs in pursuit, the guys from the HsD Mostly want to dabble in it; there's still that black battleship from Perestroika hiding out in the universe, and someone has to search for it. There's no time for you to wait for the next batch of ms to come off the line."

"There's also the oRB ship, they've had a ship on the universe recently."

"oRB?"

It had been a long time since Karl had paid attention to the news from the Pacific island nation, which didn't seem to be as quaint as it used to be after parting with those young men from the oRB.

"Just after their last Parliament Square protest incident, and then the change of representatives again; there was an attempted assassination of low ranking army officers in the oRB hierarchy. Of course, the unplanned assassination rightfully failed, and after that, the old Asha had a closed-door meeting with a few other families. The result was that young Asha, the little blonde girl, and a couple of other families with a team of army lesser ms, were stuffed onto the ship and launched into the universe."

"What does that mean?"

Karl was bewildered, although he had had several meetings with the oRB executives, he couldn't claim to know much about them, although it could be considered that they had driven them out of the oRB island group where the population was in turmoil between the Great Kingdom's interstices in order to protect the safety of the younger ones. But beyond that, the old Asha known as the Lion and that same group of cunning oRB family leaders wouldn't make such a big move just because of their children, there must be some sort of political compromise and scheming behind it.

"In our analysis, it seems that that battleship can act as a sort of, mobile government-in-exile, and once someone makes a move against the oRB, whether it's us or Zaft, the young people on the battleship equals the oRB's government-in-exile, and they can always defect to the other side as a check. Since they're hiding in the middle of space, they're theoretically not very easy to catch."

"So there's another troublesome force in space, eh." Carl shook his head against the wall, "Hopefully they know what their elders mean then keep a low profile. "

"In fact, we've also discovered an interesting rumor," Roy leaned in, "There are voices in the oRB country that are quietly questioning the succession of the Asha family, namely that the blonde girl is rumored to be only their adopted daughter, and not ... "

"What the hell, the assassination and then the inheritance issue, is this island still living in the Middle Ages?"

"In many aspects of society, yes, they're still in the Middle Ages, and besides, Major, General Hartmann is waiting for you on the line."

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

After receiving his orders, Carl made his way to the briefing room and also sent a notification to his team's terminals to head to the briefing room for a rendezvous.

"I'm sure you've heard about the change in the battle situation, our squadron, likewise, has received new orders as a result, our first task next is to leave the area, all pack up, inspect the airframes, and adjust them to transport status, the 5th Strategic Transport Wing will be arriving here in 6 hours. Note, it is all, the airframes and weapons that belong to us, including the three G's, the long blades, and you two."

Carl indicated the two socious sitting in the corner were within the scope of the order, the order was urgent, so the top brass suspended the troublesome issue of screening them for reliability and had to bring them along in one piece.

"Report, so what's next?"

"The squadron will be transported to Panama, where we'll be rounding with the integrity group and other personnel that remain in Alaska. All airframes will be inspected for cosmic warfare. The squadron's next mission, in Cosmos."

"In addition, if nothing else, Vms-03 Squadron will be officially assigned to a battleship with a name and radio call sign."

There was a whisper with excitement from below, the entire squadron had previously been referred to by number, being one of the newest MS units but not having a handsome call sign like the other mobile fighter and air force units had always been a regret in the minds of the young men, and the upcoming reorganization in Panama would remedy that.

"If there are no further questions, all units are dismissed."

3. the cursed battleship

Joint Forces Base, Panama, Central and South America

As the only remaining base of the United Earth Forces capable of large-scale orbital launches, the Panama Cosport is currently in the midst of an unprecedented rush. If all those launches from towering mass emitters into space were merchant and civilian ships, that boom would be a rare sight in the Earth community, but the fact is that the spaceport, which used to be responsible for some civilian launches, has fallen completely under military control, and even though the cargo ships launching into space are still painted with the Express and Starcom Express logos, any port manager can tell you that those ships are still under military control. It was all commandeered by the Army - of course, if you could afford to pay enough money, the crews who were still employees of the transport companies would be happy to help you chuck in a few lesser weight gadgets on top of what the Army required to carry.

As the Combined Army gradually gained the strategic initiative on Earth, large quantities of supplies began to be diverted to support the still-stalled Lunar Front, and the shipyards and repair yards working overtime on the Moon have restored the strength of the Cosmic Fleet trapped on the lunar island to what can be considered a healthy state, but they are also in short supply of supplies from Earth: fuel, supplies, raw materials.

The inherent limitations of being a military base - rather than an agricultural or mining base - meant that the limited mineral output and equally limited metal reserves meant that the supporting factories could not supply unlimited parts for the ships in need of repair and refitting; and the equally limited number of vegetable sheds - or to use a more appropriate name: food synthesis factories - also made it difficult to feed the stranded Fleet on the Lunar Surface for long. Hundreds of thousands of troops plus some family members and miscellaneous staff. Some of the orbital rights jointly seized after the Battle of Low Orbit were used primarily to maintain the lifeline of the Moon Surface Base, and only enough to keep the fleet at its current size, replacing some of the aging 130m-classes without being able to do more reinforcements. It wasn't until after the failure of ZAFt's last large-scale operation, the Alaska Drop Campaign, when they ceded some of their orbital rights again, that the Combined Force was able to actually start moving troops into the universe, with launch trajectory after launch trajectory over the mass projectors, the purpose of which was clear, but Zaft suffered from the slow replenishment of their forces - their fleet still needed to lick its wounds, and what was originally part of the Their large sums of money had been funneled back into some classified project and had to be left to their own devices, watching as these nearly unprotected, transport ships loaded with ammunition and fuel for their attack left Earth, entered low orbit, and then changed course to descend into the moon's orbit.

Twenty kilometers away from the mass launcher, the coalition airfield was similarly busy, the air controller had just finished guiding a group of reconnaissance planes patrolling over the rainforest, another group of large strategic transports with high priority needed to land next, but on the ATC radar he noticed an even faster marker approaching, what appeared to be a, friendly fighter?

"Attention approaching fighter, you are too close to runway 3, large transport is approaching."

The pilot of the fighter didn't reply, but the airframe's auto-responder system popped up with a 'Roger', but the fighter didn't change its course, nonetheless.

Seconds later, as the transport passed the last navigational point and was preparing to ground, the controller saw the fighter's transponder display the phrase "will come in as soon as the transport lands". The controller was tempted to scold the pilot, who deliberately did not use the voice call to prevent him from stopping, and instead sought to have the plane send a text message from the transponder, when he was too late to update the instructions.

Meanwhile, Carl was in the cockpit of the large transport, and he watched as the transport's co-pilot and tower confirmed the runway and that the plane was in a descending orbit, but he also saw the fighter off to the side on the secondary screen of the tactical information distribution system. He could guess that the plane was trying to cut in for a landing, and there was indeed enough room between the two bulky transports for a nimble fighter to cut in, if the pilot of one of them was a veteran who knew how to master timing.

As the transport slapped smoothly to the ground, the fuselage decelerating after a shudder, then turning onto the tarmac, Carl saw on the tail camera screen the fighter immediately behind him, who made a standard short takeoff and landing maneuver, approaching the ground at a great angle, then letting the engine nozzles point downward, though with forward inertia, like a hover, slowly and gently slapping the ground on the transport's tail.

"Is that guy crazy?" The transport's co-pilot exclaimed.

"No, he's not crazy." Carl smiled as he watched the fighter turn and then steer onto the tarmac as smoothly as a small electric car.

It wasn't often that the fighter with its multiple prismatic folds, back-mounted turret, and short takeoff and landing capabilities was seen in the Combined Forces, but Carl happened to have seen the airframe, and also had a rough guess as to who the scrambling madman was.

Ten minutes later.

Carl met the culprit on the tarmac with a big smile on his face and no look of guilt, "Major Frada, I must protest your dangerous landing behavior."

"Yo, Major Blake, you'll have to get in line then, there's a lot of people to protest me." The blond major held out his hand and Carl stepped forward to shake it.

"You seem to be your usual self-consciously misinterpreting orders guy. What's going on this time?"

"You're as rigid as ever, Carl," Mu smiled as usual, "My original orders were to head to the Air Warfare School, but for some reason or another, I was able to get myself to fly here and up into the cosmos anyway, and this airframe has to be returned." He pointed to the Air Tyrant behind him, which was apparently the one on top of the Archangel back in the day.

"Hell, you're crazier than ever, aren't you afraid of a court martial?"

"The current universe army has been crying out for a shortage, when I get on the universe, they won't hand me over, and as for the court martial, wait until the war is over."

At the same time, a large convoy of transports was making its way to the tarmac, it was clear that this group of ms had high priority, there was little wait time before the airframes were all unloaded from the transports and ready to be loaded back onto the transports. Carl took a quick glance towards the convoy and then found what he was looking for, a small jeep with two officers with handheld pad terminals.

The young Warrant Officer with a typical South American face saluted and handed out the electronic documents that needed to be signed, Carl, then the officer in charge of the Strategic Transport Wing counted the number of transports and ms, signed them, and then took the confirmation document for the next order from the latter soldier.

"Fat Hoffman again?"

"That's right, after all, that cursed white ship is the best ship on Earth, carrying MS capabilities, of the Union Army." The man in the back, a competent looking European, replied so.

"MI5, Borgman."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Major, and you'll be traveling with us on this mission?" Karl had heard of MI, the historic intelligence agency headquartered in Britannia, which had been competing with the North American Department for budgets and resources since the formation of the Atlantic Confederation; the council had no intention at all of abolishing either of them, and seemed to relish the competition between them. It was clear that these Britons had not been idle in the tense war.

"It's not just me, I'm jumping in, I have priority on the Universe because of the mission, and your ship is the fastest by far. Also, I've been told there are some other characters outside of the Cosmic Army who will be taking that ship. Not including this one, of course," he indicated the young South American who had taken a step back as if trying to hide behind him, "Warrant Officer Garcia is Hoffman's new lieutenant, a Cosmic Army recruit."

"So it looks like Fat Hoffman is going to get fat again with the help of deputies, as far as characters who don't appear normally, like this one?" Carl pointed to Frada, who was whistling leisurely a few meters back.

"Yes, in a way, I brought him here, and it will take a little time to explain."

Carl stared back at the loading and unloading of the fuselage for a while, then hopped onto one of the short swords that was already securely fastened to the shelf on the transport, and after confirming the locking of a few interfaces, he hopped onto another transport carrying the Gundam. Compared to the Short Sword series, those three Gundams used a wider model of transport vehicle to accommodate their massive backpack assemblies, but there was still enough room for a person to sit down and even for a complete crew to accompany the vehicle to do some inspection of the airframe.

"There are some seats here, and if you don't hate the noise of open-air airport takeoffs and landings and the smell of MS oil, you can explain that on the way to Cosport."

"I guess I'll get used to this sooner or later." Major Borgman of MI also climbed into the transport and then secured himself in his seat, "Seriously, Major, this is my first time in the universe, what do you suggest?"