Silent Requiem, a fanfic by Nightmaresama, chapter 2

Back at the base, the final evacuations of the Zeon North Eastern American front were proceeding fairly well. True, there had been setbacks in trying to get all the damaged Zakus back onto the Zanzibar-class ship, Santa Fe, but then, any and all MS that could possibly be salvaged were of vital importance to the Duchy.

This particular front had been of great strategic importance to the Earth Invasion Force in the early days of the war, primarily because it was a natural stronghold and had been sanctioned with a Naval port. By way of this port, Zeon Jukon ("Yukon") subs and mobile suits had been able to disrupt all international trade across the Northern Atlantic. However, now that the Feddies had retaken Odessa and the rest of resource-rich Eastern Europe, trans-Atlantic trade had been slowed significantly. Supplies were still being shipped from Africa to Jabrow, but that couldn't be helped by a force stationed in New England. Besides, the Feddies were clever: in knowing transportation across the Atlantic was treacherous, they had made steps to alter their logistics enough to make transportation across the Pacific economically viable, primarily to Canada and Oregon (far North of Zeon-held California).

All these and rumors of GMs being sighted in the vicinity was enough to make Lt. JG Anavel Gato and the rest of the officers wary enough to suggest an evacuation to his commander. That, and the fact that he hated this revolting little planet and was exceedingly anxious to get back to space.

He assumed the base's C.O. had felt the same way, given the way he had rushed to put out a line to Side 3 and request an evacuation. Thankfully, the ship had managed to get here in a timely fashion despite the fact that the Federation was moving large numbers of its own battleships and mobile suits into space. Had the Santa Fe been shot down, the platoon would have been forced to stay down here for several more weeks, at the mercy of the guerillas and ever-encroaching GM units.

In fact, it was because of those units that Gato remained in the cockpit of one of the few still functioning Zaku II suits, standing guard.

He checked the amount of ammo left in his bazooka. Not because he was afraid of running low, but more so out of instinct. Yet as he glanced down at the ammo gauge, he noticed a small blip on his heat signature scope. By stroke of good fortune he had more than enough rounds in his bazooka to vaporize any Feddie suit, save the Gundam itself, with little or no strain on himself.

He crouched low, bringing the Zaku down on one knee. Hopefully he could manage a clear shot through the dense undergrowth (yet another reason he hated this place; back home in Side Three, the trees never grew this close unless you were in an arboretum).

Suddenly a voice came over his radio, "This is O'Rielly, Cirrus, returning from active duty: code frequency zero-seven-one-two."

That was enough to make Gato let out a long sigh of relief as he returned to a standing position and lowered his bazooka. He'd long looked up to Cirrus and admired her fighting skills. She was the closest thing he'd ever seen to a real live ace, taking out two GMs, one MP-type Guntank, and one MP-type Guncannon in a single sortie by herself. She was good.

This was why seeing her custom painted black Gouf stagger in, battered and beheaded, he was quick to abandon his Zaku to go and see what had happened.

She noticed he was coming over and slid down the escape wire of her suit and met him at its feet. Just as he was arriving she took off her helmet and let her raven-black hair fall down to about her slender waist.

"An accident," she said, curtly, "I was not being careful". While they began walking back to the main compound, a team of technicians swooped down onto the damaged suit like. She had a brisk pace and he had to almost jog to keep up.

"Are the evacuation procedures going as well as anticipated?" Cirrus asked, never looking at his face.

"Yes ma'am, Major O'Rielly, very well. The Zakus have all been loaded except for mine and Höcker's. We're on guard duty."

"But how long until we are able to take off?" it wasn't so much a question as a demand.

Gato stopped walking for a second and checked his wristwatch. Cirrus had stopped too, about a yard ahead of him. She was exceptionally tall for a member of the colony-born Zeons (probably because she was born down here on Earth, Gato had surmised) and her strides had taken her farther.

"About seven and a half to eight hours. HQ said we leave at 0800 under cover of early morning darkness. That and it's supposed to rain which will hamper visibility"

"Very well then, Lieutenant." She started to walk off but called out over her shoulder, "tell them they can scrap the Gouf and use the parts to repair the Zakus. I won't be needing it any more in space".

About thirty miles down the winding and hilly paths of New England, the battered Fifth Mobile Suit team of the MacArthur Battalion staggered into the Federation Fortress at Boston. Of the remaining forces left in Boston there were only seven mobile suit teams: four teams of all ground-combat GMs two teams with two GMs and a Gundam and the Fifth team, who bore the distinction of having a new model GM sniper II just in from the testing facilities in Jabrow. Unfortunately, the Second and Sixth teams had been wiped out in the battalion's first month of being stationed there due to careless errors on what seemed to be routine assignments. This was a harsh blow indeed because the Second team was one of the units with a Gundam G-type.

Up until now, though, their forces had been throughly hardened by the war into a disciplined and well-organised fighting force. And now, just as they had the Zeeks on the run, one of the best units, the fifth team, was all but destroyed.

Fortunately, the loss was not as bad as it seemed, or so the survivors thought. All three pilots and the truck driver had escaped death, and in less than a day, the soldiers here were all going to be transferred to the space front where the G-type suits would be useless anyway.

"What happened? Those Zakus got a little too tough for ya'll? And your sniper's busted too? Ha ha!"

Nevertheless, the battered survivors trudged off to the base CO's tent, fearing the worst. All around them, the Federation war machine was busily packing itself up for launch into further combat at Side Three.

The more Alex thought about it, the more he realised how thankful he was that his term of service was almost up. Fighting on Earth was one thing; you get shot, you blow up, you die (that is, if you were unfortunate enough to be shot in the first place). In space however, you could get shot, blown through the cockpit and end up floating forever out in the cold blackness of the void.

Duo opened the flap of the tent to let the other three in. He knew they were going to get chewed out, but the best thing to do was to just go in and face it like a team.

Not far from where the Fifth Team stood preparing for their debriefing, the members of the Third MS team had all stopped their designated duties to stare. They had to be very careful when doing cleaning procedures as they were the team with the last remaining Gundam, and it took something really serious, like a fight or getting to see some other team busted for reckless behavior, to interrupt their chores.

All the other teams were preparing to ship out the next morning and the MacArthur Battalion's 3rd MS Team were busily fine-tuning the only surviving Gundam when the Fifth Team survivor straggled in. In lieu of their departure, it was decided that it would be shipped out to South Africa to finish eradicating the last vestiges of Zeon forces on Earth. The RX-79[G] was a strictly terrestrial mobile suit; its drive systems and woefully ineffective thrusters would make it an easy target for the Zeeks

"Hey guys, check it out!" Trowa Barton called out from his position on the RX-79[G]'s cockpit. He'd been wiping off the eye-camera lenses when he'd seen the four members of the other team walk by. "What's up with Fifth Team?"

"Word has it they got wasted out on patrol this afternoon," Kiyone Shinegori replied as she walked up to aid her CO in cleaning the Gundam. As a chain smoker, she'd needed a hit badly but smoking was not allowed in the presence of live ammunitions.

"Really? They're all okay, though, right? None of them died?" Sam Young asked her. He'd been inspecting the barrel of the machine gun, and not noticed. He seemed particularly interested though, but Sam was like that; kind of shy and taking everything too seriously.

"No, no casualties. All their suits got totaled, though! Old Mac is gonna roast `em for that!"

"Yeah, well, that's not our problem." Leon "Squall" McDaniels responded. "We've got other stuff to be focusing on right now. Hey Trowa, when are we pulling out of here tomorrow?"

"I heard about 0600 at mess this afternoon, but I'm pretty sure they're gonna delay it, at least until 1530. There's supposed to be a big storm front coming through here in the morning." The CO replied.

"So, are we going to try and finish overhauling the Gundam tonight, or wait until later tomorrow to finish?" Sam asked.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm fuckin' starving! I think we can hold off until a little later to finish it. Besides, there's a good chance we'll be up on active duty given the shape of the other teams. It only needs a little bit more work anyhow." Trowa said as he slid down the escape wire. "Who's up for our Five Course dinner, complements of the Federated Union of Earth?"

Sam and Trowa laughed at his sardonic humour. Squall was infamous for being one of the most cynical and caustic MS jockies on the base. He was also damn funny and could always lighten the mood among his team-mates.

"Nah, I can't eat after I've had a hit. You all've earned some chow; I think I'll see what all I can get done with the Gundam and try and finish up here. After that, I'm gonna go have a chat with the Survivalists." She used the pet name for teams that had had their units wrecked. "Catch you all later."

"…and I don't ever want to hear about ya'll going off and fighting those Zeeks anymore without expressly commissioned orders to do so. I don't think I need to remind you-again--that your mission today was strictly reconnaissance!" General MacArthur bellowed in his throaty Southern drawl as he paced before the members of the Fifth Team.

"I wasn't finished yet coporal!" The General interrupted "Now shut yer yap and pay attention! There are only two main reasons I'm not having all of ya Court Marshalled right now."

Duo stood in the back and was fighting back laughter. It seemed as though every time somebody really got mad at him and really started yelling, he found it to be unbearably comical.

He could only manage to shake his head, still fighting to keep from laughing out loud.

"You findin' something funny, Commander Maxwell? You think being Court Martialled is a damn joke?" The general turned and glared right at him.

Instantly Duo regained his composure. "No sir!"
.
MacArthur shook his head as he walked back to his desk.

"You mentioned two reasons why we aren't being tried. What were those `reasons' sir?"

The General held up one finger as he began, "First off, we're leaving here tomorrow for Side Three and I don't want to get the Brass down here causing all kinds of ruckus and delaying our lift-off. Plus, trials ain't exactly cheap neither. And number two," he raised a second finger, "Number two is your team actually did a pretty damn good job out there from what I heard, and that must've been a helluva of a Zeek ya'll fought."

"I see sir." Alex said in hushed tones. It wasn't often that MacArthur paid anyone a complement, much less any of his MS teams.

"But before your dismissed," the General added as the four young soldiers began to leave, "be sure you check the new rosters posted out in the middle of the camp for your new team assignments. Now, git."

"That crusty old geezer said we only did a good job?" Gene exploded as soon as they were out of earshot. "The hell does he know about fighting MS anyway? Let's see him go out there and fight one of those damn things! See how long he lasts." He spat.

Alex wheeled around and punched him in the jaw, laying him flat on his back. "Shut up Gene! It was `only a good job', if that much! We only made it out of there alive, by luck and thanks to Duo's leadership. And anyway, you need to show some respect for your base commander. Do you know how often he says anything nice about anyone? Next to never! From him that was a bloody complement."

He turned to Duo. "Sir, sorry about freezing back there when that Gouf 'ad you in a choke 'old. I didn't think a clean shot was possible."

Duo was surprised. He'd known Alex was sort of a loose cannon, but this was something new. "Don't worry about it Alex. We all made it out okay, right? That's all that matters. And Hilde sure put the Fear of God in that guy when she took his head off, ain't that right?"

Gene got to his feet and dusted off his uniform. "Yeah, Hilde, that was a real good job. So good in fact that I think we deserve a celebration! You want to join me for a drink later on?"

"Uh, no thanks," Though she hardly noticed it now (she'd become quite adept at turning him down and cold do it almost reflexively) she still hated it when he tried to come on to on her like that. If only they weren't in the same unit…

"That's right! We should go and check to see who are new units are going to be. Come on Duo." Hilde grabbed his hand and yanked him on to the middle of the compound.

"`Come on Duo'!" Gene mocked as he followed them down the small hill. "The hell's he got that I don't have?"

The small post where the reassignments had been nailed up was surrounded by a sea of people. The Fifth Team had to fight their way through just to get to a vantage point where they could almost see.

The list was divided up by MS teams and next to each name was written the name of the new CO and to what unit they belonged. It was mildly confusing, but only because the font was so small. The whole process of finding the name and looking up the other information took a lot longer than it should.

Finally, they all walked away and regrouped next to their barracks. Duo started them off: "So who is everyone with?"

At the same time, Gene was thinking to himself "Man, this is great! If those two got stuck together in the same unit, that means that me and Hilde are just as likely to be reassigned together in another!" He'd scrawled down his unit name and number to help him remember-134th Special Forces Division-and with any luck…

"That's too bad guys," Hilde started. "I'm in Sanders' battle group, 431st Space GM."

Gene's mouth fell open in disbelief. Somehow he always managed to catch all the bad breaks.

"Who, me?" reality check "Oh, I'm off to the 134th Special Forces Division or something like that"

"And that's a bad thing?" Duo asked surprised. "That's part of the SpecOps unit Gene! You're going to get to be a part of the hardest hitting, longest fighting, division in the whole Space Force! First in, last out, that's what they say about the Special Forces."

"What?! I mean-yeah, of course! Pretty amazing, huh? Guess the Brass must've finally got word of my amazing piloting skills." He was beaming now.

"Uh, um…That's right! They didn't want any MS pilot because they knew that…ah…an MS pilot, would…" Way to save face! He thought, humiliated.

Of course that had only an even more damaging effect on Gene's ego. Having to have Duo stand up for him really made him mad and he slunk off to his bunk to retire for the evening.

After he left Duo and Alex claimed they had to go out and oversee the overhauling of the GMs and they'd see them in the morning.

Hilde, not quite tired enough to retire to the barracks, but also wanting to get off her feet, walked off to a bench under a streetlight and sat down. Almost as soon as she did, though, her friend Kiyone of the 3rd MS came over to join her.

"How's it goin', Kiyo-chan?" Hilde started, using the intimate diminutive of her name.

"Hmm, I could ask you the same thing, huh? I heard about what happened to you guys today, and I've been trying to catch up with you all to offer my congratulations all afternoon," she smirked

Unlike most of the other soldiers in the MacArthur battalion, Kiyone and Hilde had known each other before being stationed there. They had both attended the same high school, and had kept in touch through their days in the Academy. Their slightly stand off-ish friendship was based on the fact that their personalities were total opposites; Kiyone was always the outgoing and flirtatious one who was seen with a different guy almost every week. Hilde on the other hand, was the emotional and committed one. She was also one of the most obstinate people Kiyone had ever come across. Hilde, on the other hand, thought Kiyone scatterbrained and childish. Yet, this never kept them from staying friends, and confiding very intimate secrets between one another.

"It wasn't like this was some run-of-the-mill Zaku, Kiyo-chan. This guy was unreal! It was one of those powerful Gouf suits."

"Yeah, well, okay. I'm not one to point fingers." She reached into her uniform pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "So, how's it going between you and Gene?"

"Bite me," she answered. Though she generally took it as good-natured, Kiyone's sardonic attitude was wearing her patience thin tonight. "Why don't you try and deal with that self-centered kid stalking you all the time? I wonder how long it'll take for him to get it through his thick skull that I'm not interested? Being mean to him just makes me end up feeling bad, but how else will he learn?"

"Maybe…" Hilde let the conversation rest at that. If she responded with anything committal, the whole camp would know by tomorrow at breakfast. "Who've you been reassigned to?"

"I'm in the SA company. We've got a woman commander, so it shouldn't be that harsh. How `bout you?"

"SR? Isn't that the team headed up by Commander Sanders? You do know about the jinx that guy has right?"

"Clueless again," Kiyone shook her head. "Every time the team he's leading goes on their third mission, everybody except him gets KIA."

"It's true, I swear! It's only not happened once in that guy's career, but that was only out of luck."

"Yeah, I'll see you on the shuttle tomorrow; we got patrol duty in the morning."

Hilde waved back to dismiss her. Kiyone was a great friend, but sometimes, she really just felt like strangling her!

Alex and Duo stood outside the barracks in the flickering light of the tilted lamppost, reflecting on their new assignments.

"Huh? Oh yeah," Alex snapped back to reality. "I spent most of my life in New Devonshire in Side Two. `Course, I've never actually fought in Zero-G before, I just know what it's like, being weightless and all."

"That's right, I think you told me something like that awhile back. I must've just forgot." He shifted the focus of the conversation as he reached into his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. "This whole thing really has me excited. I'm so ready to go up there and finish off those damn Zeeks once and for all. Do you think we'll be a part of Operation Star One?"

"I guess so. They're talking about sending us into the 'eart of Zeon-controlled space. `Course, that could mean anything from Granada to Solomon to A Baoa Qu itself. Whatever we're doing, it's gonna be a part of some thing big. No thanks." He responded as his CO offered him a smoke.

"You at least got a light?" Duo was fumbling around in his pockets trying to locate his lighter but was having no such luck. Finally, he found the metallic device in his back pocket and lit up, the orange glow of the flame momentarily illuminating his face. "I'm really trying to quit, anyway. It's bad as shit for my lungs."

"I dunno," Alex continued. "We really could die on one of these next missions ya know. That's a real scary thought."

"Ah, it's only as scary as you let it be. Listen, you can't go through life always worrying about when you're gonna bite the big one. Especially as a soldier. If you do, you'll never actually get a chance to really live. We're all gonna die someday, Alex, it's how we choose to meet that death that determines what kind of men we really are." Duo said, balancing the cigarette in his teeth as he spoke.

Alex was quiet for a long time after that, just thinking about the events of the day and what his CO had just told him and letting them sink in. In a way, what he said made a whole lot of sense. However, it still did not erase the heavy lump of fear that was lying on his chest.

"I've got a girl I wanna stay alive for." He blurted out, almost without thinking.

"No, it's this girl I met off duty one time. She…I don't know 'ow to describe it. She's a war correspondent covering the siege in Odessa."

"Huh. You met her on the transport? Does she have a name?" His interest was captured now.

The cigarette nearly fell out of Duo's mouth as he looked in slack-jawed amazement at his friend. "Whoa, hold the fuck up. Rachel Sawyer? The Rachel Sawyer, from ENN?"

"Holy Mother of Gawd! How in the fuck did you manage that one? She's like a celebrity! Every guy worth his nuts has got at least two pin-ups of her from one article or another. But you actually know her! And on intimate terms too! Jesus!"

"It's really not like that," Alex made halting motions with his hands. "I met her on the shuttle and we hit it off really well. I don't mean to toss this on you, Duo, I mean, it's not your problem, but, do you think there's a chance we might get to see 'er before the operation is over with? And…and if we do, do you think you could 'elp me out with it? I mean, I've seen the way you've put the moves on CPO Hilde. Do you think you could help me?"

Now it was Duo's turn to be uncomfortable. He'd always thought he'd been pretty discrete about his feelings for the sniper, but apparently Alex had read him like a book. He didn't want to mare the image his subordinate had made of him, but he was actually pretty bad with women.

For his own part, he had to admit that he was just lucky Hilde had warmed to him first, unlike his last attempts that had all been miserable failures. He'd always been the "nice-guy"; quiet and reserved had always been the words people had used to describe him.

Of course, on the inside, he was as horny as the day is long, but he would have never let on about that.

Yet, his time at war had brought this inward goofball/pervert out to the public. A sort of carpe diem philosophy had slowly clouded over his judgement and it was this sort of laughing in the face of death that had turned his personality a full 180-degrees. He believed what he had told him about dying and living whole-heartedly now, and it was this realization, this self-analysis that compelled him to want to help the younger soldier. The two of them were a lot alike, he and Alex.

What would he do if they really did run across Rachel Sawyer? Of course, the odds of them actually meeting this girl were slim at best. Compounded with the fact that this girl was one of ENN's fastest rising and most popular interns, and those odds dropped to one step above a miracle.

But what could he do? Would he admit to one of his closest friends that he was not the ladies man he portrayed himself to be? Or would he try and help him out even at the cost of his own dignity?

He sighed deeply before he answered. "Sure, I'll help you out," he said at last. What the hell? If he was going to flop, at least he'd flop helping out a comrade.

"'Course, I gotta be real honest with you, it's pretty unlikely that we'll run into her this late in the game. The War is definitely winding down, and you know how fickle those reporter types are in covering `old news'."

He paused for a moment in thought, taking a long, meditative drag on his cigarette. "Why don't you just write her, or call her or something? That would set your mind at ease for a little while-at least until you two have established a time and place to get together."

Alex looked at his feet. "I would, but I never had a chance to get her e-mail or phone number. She left before I could ask."

"Damn," his CO could only shrug. "I guess thems the breaks. Oh well. For now, just keep thinking about her, and the mental image should be enough to get you through all your battles, both in and out of your GM."

A yawn punctuated his counselling. "But for now, I'm turnin' in; we've got a big day tomorrow, Alex. You might want to try and get some shut-eye too. See ya later, and remember what I said about living and dying." Duo tossed his cigarette on the dirt and stamped out, turned, and walked into the barracks.

"See ya." Alex stared out at the stars for few moments longer and then followed his CO inside.

The Zeon mess hall was unusually crowded for morning meal. Reveille had been played a full hour earlier to get everybody up so that all would be ready to board the transport shuttle. However, the early morning rain and mist severely darkened the mood of the already sullen soldiers.

"Breakfast of champions, ja?" Max Jäger said as he sat down opposite to the other soldier.

"Who the fuck knows? It's rations and so it's food…or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof. But anyway, you ready to head back to Side Three?" Max was an ensign from the elite Blood Drakes unit, the same unit as Major O'Rielly. Gato aspired to serve on the unit, but, they only accepted pilots who had scored at least five kills-in other words, they only accepted aces. Max had been accepted upon landing in New England after he'd fragged seven escorting a Komusai shuttle as it broke through the atmosphere. Currently, it's members numbered four: The Major, Max, Lt. Sean Marx, and Capt. Rei Ayanami. Captain Ayanami, however, had already been dispatched to space on special assignment to aid in the training of a defense force for the asteroid fortress, Solomon, but they would meet up with her in about a week.

The most Gato had been able to score during the whole terrestrial campaign was four, and resented his friend for making the team and leaving him out. His lack of victories was due in large part to circumstance rather than any lack of skill on his behalf. Every Zeon pilot on the base knew he was talented, but because of the backwater location and the lack of any good sized Federal opposition other than a few scant recon parties, he had yet to have a chance to scratch the five he needed.

"I hope so. I can't wait to get off this stinking mud-ball and back onto a colony." He replied taking a spoonful of the slop up towards his mouth.

"I figured you'd say something like that. How is it?" he asked sarcastically as Gato struggled to choke it down.

His comrade flicked him off and grabbed for his milk, draining it in one gulp. Max smiled, Gato was a real jerk sometimes.

"I just wished I'd got to kill my last Feddie before we left," Gato stated after he'd finished his histrionics.

"Don't worry about it, you'll get your chance. You're really itching to be an ace, huh?"

"Mmm, perhaps you just want to be in the same unit as Major Cirrus, eh? You bloody schwinehund. Can't say I blame ya-she's about the best looking thing I've seen since we left port."

"She is hot, but that's not the point. How am I ever gonna amount to anything more than a Grunt in this army if I don't start moving up soon? I fought in both Operation British and the Loum Campaign, same as the Red Comet, and he's a national hero and I'm stuck here in New England forcing down bad rations!" he said in disgust. "Even you've outdone me!"

"Hey, chill out man. Don't blow a capillary! Of course you didn't get as far as Commander Char-you're not a friggin' Newtype who blew up five battleships in one engagement. What do you expect?"

"I'm out here to be the best, and if that means pulling the Five Leaps again and adding two more, that's what I'm going to do!"

"Yeah, well okay. But you know, Major Cirrus is actually a pretty interesting pilot herself. All the Feds call her the Black Lotus because that's always the custom paint job she gives her MS. She'd come up from almost nowhere in her black Zaku and take out whole battleships. The colour wasn't just for intimidation either; it was like passive optical camouflage against the darkness of space. She's sort of a legend, but there's a lot of history there that not even most of our officers know about."

"How do you mean?" Gato grudgingly consented to the change of subject. Max had what he liked to think of as a "two-track" mind: girls and mobile suits-Cirrus was his wet dream come true.

"See how she always sits off on the edge of the room, by herself? Not even with me or the other Drakes?"

"Word has it she's been like that for a while, but not always…" he lowered his voice.

"Some of the guy's have been talking. They said that awhile back, she was actually a Fed core fighter pilot!"

"Swear to God. They said she was a total badass too. But anyway, she was stationed on the battleship during the One Week War and went into battle during the Loum Campaign. I forget wat it was called, some Japanese name or something; Yamigumo, Yokohama, something like that. It did start with a 'y' though."

"But anyway, it turns out that she was married just beforehand, to another pilot. Swear to God! You can check this out for yourself if you don't believe me-she still wears the ring when she's not piloting. At any rate, she and her husband were stationed on the same battlecrusier and were both preparing to go into battle with our forces during the colony drop procedures."

"This is were the plot twist comes into play. See, even though she was already married to this guy, the captain of the vessel had it for her. And bad too, they say. This guy was willing to go to extremes to try and get with O'Rielly, and what better way to do it than to waste her man during the battle? There's a lot of flak and misfires do happen-he could ghost the guy and make it look like an accident!"

"So, the captain scrambles all the core fighters (this is back before the Fed had made their own mobile suits-Ah, the good ol' days) but calls the Major up to the bridge to `give her an important message' or some shit like that. Then, just as her husband flies around, in front of the main battery, BAM! Wasted right in front of her!"

"Keep it down, Max," Gato urged, making placating motions with his hands, "She's right over there!"

"Whoops, guess I got a little wrapped up in it, ja? Anyway, she sees the whole thing happen and she totally flips out. They said she…ugh, I don't know all the details, but she apparently didn't know it was a setup and didn't blame the captain right away. She got really depressed and even when they did divert the colony, she still couldn't bring herself to launch. After the engagement, the captain starts trying to put the moves on her while she's down-romancing her with wine and candle-light dinners and shit-but somehow, she figured out the what the plan had been and totally lost it.

"She was going to kill him on the spot, but security found her and tossed her in the brig. When they got back to Jabrow, she threatened to have the guy Court Marshalled, but, there was no evidence of malice. Plus, everyone else on the bridge was unaware of what was going on and thought the whole thing was an unfortunate accident, so she had no witnesses either. And get this; the captain of the ship was being heralded as a hero! Their cruiser sunk about four Musais including the one that had been involved in that `terrible misfire'. The guy is a legend among the Feds!"

"Because of all the injustice swirling around her husband's fate, Cirrus swore she'd never forgive the Federation for letting that betrayal go unpunished and defected to our side about two weeks later. We set her up in a Zaku and she mastered it swiftly, and rose through the ranks even faster, helping to take California, fighting the Trojan Horse, and putting up a great fight at Odessa. By the time of the V Project Raid in Side Seven, she was already a Captain."

"The one thing that stayed on her mind, though, despite all the accomplishments, was just being able to find that one battleship and lay waste to it. I think she'd be happy if she could just frag that scheming Captain. Well, that's the story-what do ya think?"

Gato was silent for a full minute before he answered. "I think it's a perfect illustration of the kind of people we're fighting against. To imagine that any person could be so cruel as to do what that guy did…We have to defeat these guys!"

"That's how I felt too. Hey, you better finish that shit; mess is almost over and we gotta be on that ship at 0730!" He stood and walked off towards his bunk.

Gato stood also, still thinking about the story his friend had told him. It was very poignant, but it made him see how fast someone could rise in the ranks of the Zeon Military. Perhaps, if he were to fight in a major battle and score a bunch of kills as Cirrus had…a double-rank promotion might just be possible. As he scraped away the remainder of his rations, he hoped that battle would come soon…

At the Federal Forces base, all the soldiers were hurrying to get their trappings together and make one last run-through of the base to make certain that all was in perfect condition.

The second MS had been required to have already finished their preparations as they were on active guard duty, making one final sweep of the area to make certain the launch of the shuttle could proceed uninhibited.

"Anybody got anything?" Trowa yawned over the radio. He was tired and deservedly so; they had all had to wake up two hours before revival to get their MS prepped for the outing in the rainy weather.

"No, this snow is screwing the tracking systems badly. I can barely get any more than visual range on anything." Leon responded.

"Same here. You don't think it could be due to any Minovsky interference do you chief? This seems awful bad for just weather interference." Kiyone asked.

Trowa found himself thinking the same thing even as the snow began to pile on the Gundam's distinctive v-shaped crest and down onto the eye-cameras. "Good point. Everybody, I want you all on yellow alert. If it is Minovsky jamming, than its very likely that there is something very big out here.

The unit pressed onward, fanning out as they went, and all the while Trowa's mind was on how much of a change his life was about to undergo in the next few weeks. He was a native to Earth and had never actually experienced full Zero-G before, and now he was going to have to see how well he could fight up there? It seemed a little bit much to him, but then again, so did downshifting from a Gundam to a GM and from a commander to another petty officer. The stupid Federation system of ranks had spoiled him as much as he hated to admit it. It would essentially be like going back to the Academy.

His thoughts also strayed to his new unit assignment. It was very fortunate that the Brass had decided to use only members from the New England Front and the Southeast Asian front to make its newest assault teams. At least this way he'd know everyone on his team, by face anyway.

It was even more fortunate that he and Sam would be moving on together. He liked Sam a lot; the kid was kind of quiet and introverted but once he got behind the controls of the 39mm gattling cannon mounted on the Truck, he lost all his inhibitions (except for the ones that held back idle chatter; in that respect he was an even better soldier than himself).

He just felt bad about leaving Squall and Kiyone. Those two together were the real soul of his unit, and aside from Squall's outward roughness and Kiyone's smoking problem, they were really great people once you got to know them. That, and, if she wasn't so much like his "sister," Kiyo-chan was the kind of girl whose face (and incidentally, her body too) would look great on a "pin-up" painted on the side of a MS. It was a shame they hadn't got to know one another under other circumstances. Who knows? If things had been a little bit different…

A missile streaked past his GM's head, shattering his calm and striking him back to cognisance. He swore loudly, "Dammit! Everybody on full Red Alert! Have spotted the enemy at point Delta-five-seven. Look lively Fellas, I think they're Doms"

The last phrase was enough to make the hair on the back of Leon's neck to raise. The MS-09, or Dom, as it had come to be called, was one of the Zeons' most terrifying ground weapons. Clearly, that seemed to be the purpose of its design; The suit was unquestionably the heaviest armoured of all Zeon ground units, but the twin, gravity-repelling I-fields it could generate beneath its foot units enabled it to move at incredible speeds for something so big. Leon had fought against two of the monsters within the past six months on combat duty, in Arizona and Nevada, but he'd never seen any in New England. Were they guarding something?

He didn't have long to wonder as three of the units burst through the thick wall of trees and scattered around the GMs in an unmistakable aggressive fashion. This was going to get ugly.

"Sam, what the hell were you doing in there? How come you didn't notify us of these things?" Kiyone shouted at the truck.

"I'm sorry! I had no more idea they were out here than you guys did. You said yourselves there was a ton of interference!"

They were all heavily armed, two had bazookas and the third had a new model assault rifle. Undoubtedly they all had heat sabres or another variety of melee weapons also.

"Fuck!" Leon swore. "How can we manage any kind of counterattack with those sons of bitches so close?"

"What do we do commander?" Trowa's thoughts were punctuated by Kiyone's question.

An excellent question, but unfortunately an excellent answer was not as forthcoming. As a good commander should, Trowa poured every ounce of his concentration into assessing the situation. A faulty decision could cost them their lives…

"I got it!" he said suddenly. "Sam, when the next opening appears, floor it, an make like your trying to escape. That should distract at least one of `em long enough to give us a chance to pick him off. Kiyone, that's gonna be your job, since you got the beam rifle. Squall and I will both scatter, make a break for the woods, turn, and fire on them from their flanks. It's a desperate plan, I know, but it's the only way I can think of."

"Trowa, I-" Leon started speak, but fire from one of the Dom's machine guns quickly silenced his dissent.

The second team's commander winced. That blast was just a feint; a display of what these Zeeks could be doing right now. He had to act, and act fast. "All right fellas, prepare to engage on my mark. Three…two…go now!"

The truck's engines roared to life and it sped between the hole in the encroaching circle. At that instant, one of the Doms with a bazooka pivoted on an axis and fired off a round at him. Sam swerved hard to the left to avoid the blast, which flung snow and trees skyward in a firy burst that created a mid-sized crater in the ground.

"Go, Kiyone!" She aimed the rifle and as soon as she had a lock, fired right on the turned suit's knee joint (the spot where the armour was the weakest), shattering it with the blast. The incapacitated Zeek fell to the ground, but not before turning again to fire on the heart of the Fed Company. Trowa and Leon, already prepared to run, escaped the missile's path. Kiyone, however, was not as fortunate. The shell struck her in the right shoulder, vaporising the arm and sending her unit flying backwards. It landed with a heavy thud on the soft dirt, after toppling several large pines along with it.

"Shit! Squall, turn now! We've got to get the other two before they can do anything to her." With that, the GM and Gundam, almost in perfect sync, pulled a reverse thrust manoeuvre and flew back towards the offending suits. Leon sliced one of the units in half, while Trowa riddled the other with shells from his rifle.

"Status!" Trowa demanded over the radio. They'd done well, but he suspected it wasn't over yet.

"I think we're okay, but I'm picking up a small company of suits heading this way." Sam called.

Trowa swore. "I guess we're having the same kind of luck as the fifth team, huh? Okay, everybody prepare to initiate battle code Alpha. By the book, people. We don't know what the hell these things are yet, so be careful."

A brief silence followed. Kiyone's suit stood slowly and backed towards the thickest part of the underbrush, the naked wires at its shoulder-socket sparking wildly.

Moments later two mottled Zaku I suits stepped forth into the clearing. This is it? Trowa thought.

"Schist, man! The shuttle's already loaded up! They can't be sending us out now." Max Jäger complained as he and the Blood Drakes trudged through the storm towards the Santa Fe. "We should have already left by now! Fuck those remaining Feds, we don't need to fight them!"

"Ja," Sean Marx agreed. He ranked second in command of the unit, just below the Major. "But still, if we're needed, who are we to complain?"

"Yeah, well, you go on ahead and think those happy thoughts. Me? I'm ready to get mien arse back to Side 3. I don't need to be facing these stupid Feds now. Why can't the brass just send out some Magellas or Dopps to deal with them?"

"For you information, Ensign," Cirrus wheeled around on them, eyes narrowed and voice tight, "Those `stupid Feds' have already taken out a trio of Doms and are within fifteen kilometres from the very spot you're walking on. Should we try to evacuate as per the schedule, they would find us and shoot us down before we even cleared the lower atmosphere." There was acid in her voice.

Either she didn't notice his gesture or she didn't care, but nevertheless they had already reached the launch bay. Within seconds, the neatly planned evacuation turned into a massive assault force.

"Beg pardon, commander, but what unit will you be using?" Sean asked. "Wasn't your Gouf taken to the scrapheap last evening?"

"At my request, yes it was," she said simply. "However, I have already received clearance to take out a spare Zaku I, a shield, and new issue assault rifle."

"Will you bear our insignia into combat?" Sean asked, nervously. He already knew the answer, but some small hope inside made him aske anyway.

"I doubt it." Cirrus said, assuring him that his fears had been well placed. "This is actually a trainer; not even painted at all I've been told."

She caught the expression over the digital computer image that accompanied his radio transmission, and she almost smiled. "I know how you feel sergeant, but in this instance haste takes priority over superstition."

Since the formation of the Blood Drakes unit, there had always been a commander to bear the fiery symbol of a dragon drenched in blood clutching a Zeonic flag emblazoned on the outer armour of his or her mobile suit. The words "Kill those who would kill and avenge the fallen" were written in Latin around the outside of the artwork. All the soldiers feared that whenever the tradition was not observed, one of the team-members would die.

"Whatever you say ma'am." Sean replied, disquiet still undercutting his confident façade.

His was the first suit off the loading platform and he moved quickly to arm himself with a heavy machine gun and several back-up ammo drums. Max followed close behind, and Cirrus, piloting the older suit climbed out last.

"You're such a puss, believeing in shit like that," Max laughed, as his Zaku snapped a drum of ammunition to the body of his gun. He had never much cared for observing the tradition one way or the other, but then, he had not been on the team long enough to see what happened when it was not honoured.

"Jäger," Cirrus cut in, her calm and precise tone commanding instant obedience, "Shut up."

Cirrus scowled. Max was a good fighter, undoubtibly, but his insubordination and lack of respect for his superiors grated on her.

"Very well," she acknowledged, her voice rising to an imperious pitch, "Blood Drakes, move out!"

The charred corpse of the Zeon suit crashed loudly to the ground. "That's number three for me today!" Leon called out. "Trowa, buddy, what's wrong? You seem a little slow today." He added with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't know," The commander responded, purposely taking the remark for its literal value. "Something about this feels really wrong. Why did they send a second unit? They've never done that before. And I've never seen Doms this far north."

"No, it's not necessarily a trap. Think about it; why would they be broadcasting Minovsky particles? Certainly not just to camouflage a few mobile suits." Trowa was wracking his mind to try and comprehend the manoeuvre.

Kiyone's voice interrupted his train of thought. "Sir, at the risk of sounding insubordinate, I really don't want to stick around and find out. There's a high probability that this could be one of their frontline fortifications, and with only two fully functional MS, proceeding any further would surely be committing the hara-kiri."

"She's got a valid point, sir," Sam agreed. "I'll contact HQ and tell them to step up launch procedures."

"Roger that. Meantime, everybody else, let's get the hell out of here before we wind up as raggedy as the fifth team." The mobile suits turned and began the walk back towards the base.

Max lined the slower human-type up in the cross-hairs of his bazooka. It had already been dealt a harsh blow and was missing its entire left arm. `That means its mass-balancer is a little off set,' he thought as he strained for the perfect lock. `And that means it's gonna be too slow to avoid this'.

"Hold your fire soldier," Sean put a restraining hand on his comrade's shoulder armour. "You shoot that off now, and the whole forest'll go up. I'd really prefer it if we did not try to advertise our location with smoke from a huge brush-fire."

"Shut up! I can take this guy." The green cross-hairs flashed red to indicate a lock.

Suddenly, he heard a metallic clang behind him. Max swivelled his eye-camera to get a better view.

"Hold…your…fire." Cirrus was aiming the cannon of her own Zaku right at him. "If you fire that fucking weapon, soldier, I will kill you myself. Now get your ass on back to base. Since, they are already retreating, there is no need for us to be here."

The trio began to return to their own base, when suddenly another team of Zakus broke through the undergrowth and began firing.

"Forget about it now; we cannot let them get away!" Cirrus responded. `Of all the half-baked stunts to pull…' she thought.

"More of them? Dammit! Did we step into a big-ass ant bed or what?" Trowa swore.

"That's fine for me," Leon interjected. "I could always use a few more kills for my record!"

Ignoring his subordinate's cocky remark, Trowa called out to the Truck. "Did you manage to reach the base yet Sam?"

"Uh-huh, they're getting every body ready as we speak. That and they've dispatched the First team to give us backup."

"Good job," Trowa said after firing another round into the fray. "Kiyo-chan, I think you'd do better to pull back. There ain't no way you can fight that well with your suit that damaged. We'll cover you."

"Nani? Pull back? I've got to help you all! There's no way you can take down six Zakus with only two suits!"

"Do you think that was a request?" he demanded. "I'm ordering you to get your ass back to base now!"

However, as the group was retreating, Leon managed to fling a grenade into the middle of the attacking force. "Fire in the hole!" he whooped as the Federation suits escaped.

"They're gonna get away!" Sean shouted. He swivelled the Zaku's eye camera towards his commander. "Should we chase `em down?"

"Yes, we have to eliminate them before they can inform their base of our presence. If they send a big attacking force this way, the Zanzibar will be overrun and we will never get off this damn planet."

Suddenly, she felt the same pulse and flash of light she had experienced yesterday. She could clearly see one of the Fed soldiers in a communications vehicle accompanying the squad they'd just faced. He was transferring some data back to his base.

"Too late?" she asked herself. The feeling had yet to be proved false, and she had a pretty good inkling that any reasonable person would have already transferred the co-ordinates by now anyway.

"What? And let the Feds get away?" Max demanded with a slight tone of insubordination.

"For now, yes. This area is no longer safe, and we should report back to the Base Commander before we try anything else at this point. We will probably be needed to cover the Santa Fe's retreat now."

"The hell is going on?" Gato called out as he fell in step with the rest of the crowd.

"It's war, baby!" a passing soldier remarked. "Finally we're off our asses and ready to smash those Feds!"

Even as he spoke, other members of the Zeon forces were already mobilising the Zakus and launching them from of the Santa Fe. Gato scrambled into the cockpit of his own and fastened his harnesses.

Silent Requiem This fanfic is complete.

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Silent Requiem

Chapter 2: Operation 1