Mobile Suit Gundam - The Second Century (Part 2: The Second Century)

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 28: REUNIONS

After a six-year period of development, Project White Phoenix Gundam is now only days away from rollout. The prototype unit has been thoroughly combat tested and is ready for deployment.

Anaheim Enterprises had been developing the White Phoenix Gundam in secret, and had made the existence of their new wonder weapon unknown to the leaders of the Earth Federation Forces until just after the end of the Zeon Civil War.

Naturally, the Earth Federation Forces placed a high proprietary bid on the White Phoenix Gundam. By custom as well as by contract, the Federation always gets first-bid priority on Gundam-class mobile suits, and after Camille arranged a demonstration of the WPG’s capabilities for a select guest list of Federation senators and flag-ranking officers, President Brenner rushed to green-light the purchase of the existing unit and any subsequent units.

The pre-delivery tests on the WPG are scheduled for later in the week. Test pilot Jolie Minh has decided, however, that today is the day she should make her plans known to her employer and mentor, Dr. Camille Vidan, the Project Director of the WPG development program.

“You’re planning on resigning?” Camille says in mild disbelief.

“Yeah,” Jolie says sheepishly, “I’ve had a great time working on the project with you and the crew, but I think it’s time for me to…move on.”

“To what?” Camille asks sincerely.

Jolie says, “I want to look for my friends. They need me.”

Camille steeples his fingers in front of his lips, “Minerva Zabi, you mean?”

“Yeah, ‘Thena,” Jolie replies, “She’s always been just like a big sister to me, y’know, Doc? She’s missing right now and I have to go find her.”

“I understand,” Camille says, “I’ll accept your resignation if you really mean it, Jolie, but I want you to think about it for a while first. How about this? I’ll give you three weeks’ paid leave while you look for your friend.”

Jolie’s eyes widen, “You mean it, Doc?”

“I mean it,” Camille affirms, “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Doc!” Jolie replies, kissing her mentor on the cheek, “You’re the greatest!”

Jolie rushes back to her apartment in the suburbs of Anman City. She pulls out her knapsack and begins to stuff supplies into it.

Jolie is about to strap the knapsack onto her back when she suddenly drops it in mid-motion, sensing a familiar presence.

No…no way. Not here…she can’t be here. Maybe I’m just too focused on her right now.


But there’s no mistaking it…or the proximity of it. Athena Ibaz is in or near Anman City.

Jolie streaks down to her motorbike, guns the engine, and speeds towards the spaceport.

************************************************** *************

The Anman Spaceport is, as ever, busy with all manner of traffic. Presently, an Earth Federation Government diplomatic envoy is arriving from Side 7…the good ship Samsara (so named because the ship was thrice destroyed, and thrice rebuilt).

Jolie parks her motorbike at the spaceport just as the ship docks. The familiar sensation within Jolie’s mind intensifies.

Is Athena aboard that ship?

Twenty minutes pass before the ship is fully docked and disembarkation/unloading planks are extended.

Slipping past surveillance systems and security personnel, Jolie steals into the cargo hold of the Samsara.

Jolie finds a flashlight and ignites it, its feeble light providing only scant illumination.

Jolie counts sixty ginger steps forward before she sees six chrome coffins, each draped with a flag bearing the insignia of the Earth Federation Forces.

Jolie draws out her pistol, the Walther mini-pistol that Athena gave her the previous Christmas, and holds it ready. Jolie is hoping she won’t need to shoot anybody, but she’ll do what she must.

To Jolie’s astonishment, the lid of one of the coffins opens internally, as if the restless undead within is rising to confront the hapless meddler who so thoughtlessly interrupted its eternal sleep.

Jolie points her pistol towards the rising coffin lid, her finger tensing around the trigger.

A normalsuited figure rises from the inside of the coffin. A part of Jolie is unnerved; has she lost her mind, is the dead really rising from the grave?

Casting caution aside, Jolie charges forward, leaps into the air, and catches the figure rising from the coffin with a flying kick.

The force of the kick is enough to knock the emerging figure onto his back. Jolie puts one knee on his throat and jams the muzzle of her pistol against the visor of his helmet.

“Who are you?!” Jolie demands, “What’s going on here?!”

The normalsuited figure turns towards Jolie, pauses in a posture of apparent amazement for a second, and then opens the visor of his helmet, “Jolie? Jolie, it’s me…Hathaway! Hathaway Noah!”

“Hathaway Noah?!” Jolie says, raising the pistol, a terribly confused look emerging on her fresh, pretty face, “What the hell…?”

“Jolie,” Hathaway says, taking the girl’s shoulders desperately in his hands, “You’ve got to help me get Minerva to a safe place!”

“Minerva?” Jolie says, trying to process the bizarre series of events that have occurred during the past few minutes, “You mean Athena is here?”

Jolie looks inside the coffin that Hathaway had so unexpectedly emerged from. Lying there is a second normalsuited figure.

“Ohmigod! ‘Thena!” Jolie says, lifting the helmet off the unconscious figure.

Minerva lies pale and unresponsive in the coffin; she looks dead.

Panicked, Jolie checks for signs of respiration, and exhales with relief when she discovers that her friend still draws the breath of life. Jolie then attempts to raise her friend’s left hand to check for a pulse, only to discover that the normalsuit’s left arm sleeve to be empty.

“No!” Jolie cries, tears forming, “Hathaway! What happened to ‘Thena?!”

“She was badly wounded while escaping from the Federal Forces,” Hathaway says sadly, “Her arm had to be amputated to save her life.”

“Oh, ‘Thena,” Jolie sobs, her hand balling into an angry fist, “I should never have left. If I’d been there, this wouldn’t have happened to you!”

Footsteps are heard approaching.

“Get back inside!” Jolie orders Hathaway with a harsh rasp.

Hathaway Noah needs no further prompting. He quickly eases himself back into the coffin next to Minerva, and Jolie helps him to close the lid.

With catlike agility, Jolie leaps up to an overhanging catwalk, squatting upon it, waiting for the source of the approaching footsteps to emerge.

Two Earth Federation Forces troops, armed with assault rifles.

This will be easy! Jolie smirks.

Jolie leaps silently between the two troops, knocking one out cold with a chop to the neck and the other to similar oblivion with an elbow to the forehead before they even notice her presence.

Having disposed of the two interlopers, Jolie lifts the lid off the coffin once again, and Hathaway Noah emerges, doffing his helmet.

“Hathaway,” Jolie says, “help me get these two troops into the coffin. Let’s get ‘Thena out of here.”

“Right,” Hathaway says, already moving, “but what’s your plan? There’ll be more guards outside.”

Jolie opens a nearby crate and begins removing its contents…electronic parts of various sorts, “This crate belongs to Anaheim Electronics. It’s headed for the main plant. I’m an employee for Anaheim so…”

“Good idea,” Hathaway says, already understanding Jolie’s intent. He lifts Minerva gently from the coffin and places her within the crate, then assists Jolie in stuffing the two oblivious Federal Forces troopers into the coffin, leaving a crack open in the lid so that the two soldiers do not suffocate.

This done, Hathaway joins Minerva in the crate, closing its lid.

Jolie locates a forklift vehicle and manipulates the machine to lift the crate bearing her two friends. She drives the forklift out of the cargo hold.

“Halt!” an Earth Federation Forces guardsman orders, “Identify yourself!”

“I’m with Anaheim Electronics,” Jolie says, flashing her identification card at the soldier, “This shipment is expected at the main plant ASAP, so I’ve come down to get it.”

“Odd that I didn’t see you go in,” the soldier says, scratching his head dubiously, “and where are my two subordinates?”

“Oh, um,” Jolie says, improvising, “They’re still inside. Very helpful, those guys. They helped me get the forklift to move this big crate. I think they’re still inside checking out the other stuff in there.”

“Wait here. Better let me clear it,” the soldier replies.

“Clear this!” Jolie says, flooring the pedal of the forklift, driving the vehicle off at its top speed, not especially fast, but faster than any human being can pursue on foot.

The soldier, nearly flattened by the forklift, futilely shouts “Stop!” towards the departing forklift.

Jolie drives the forklift towards a nearby parking lot. Over a dozen jeeps are parked there.

Hathaway emerges from the crate, Minerva held securely in his arms.

Jolie and Hathaway rush towards the nearest jeep.

Hathaway carries Minerva to the back seat of the jeep, laying her down tenderly. He jumps into the driver’s seat and hotwires the ignition mechanism of the vehicle.

Jolie hops into the shotgun seat, taking aim with her pistol as a jeep of Federal Forces MPs approach.

Hathaway starts the engine of the jeep as Jolie exchanges gunfire with the MPs.

“Where to, Jolie?” Hathaway asks.

“First, drive around to the front so I can pick up my bike,” Jolie says, ducking return fire from the MPs.

“Then?” Hathaway asks.

“Then follow me home,” Jolie says, squeezing off more shots from her sidearm.

Some more bullets strafe by them. Jolie shoots back, blowing out the tires of the pursuing MPs’ jeep, causing their vehicle to skid out of control.

Hathaway maneuvers the jeep towards the entrance of the parking lot, where Jolie quickly disembarks and hops onto her motorcycle.

Jolie pulls on her motorcycle helmet and guns the motorcycle engine. Within seconds, she is tearing down the street at speeds up to three times the legal speed limit.

Hathaway barrels down the road after her – caution being no more his natural inclination than it is Jolie’s.

A half dozen military vehicles pursue them through the streets, no guns drawn as there are too many civilians in the vicinity, but closing upon the two fleeing vehicles rapidly.

Jolie looks into the sky; she smiles as she sees a familiar mobile suit approaching.

The White Phoenix Gundam lowers itself to street level, bringing the pursuing military vehicles to a halt.

An enraged platoon sergeant disembarks from his stalled jeep, shouting at the massive war machine, “Get that machine off the road! You’re blocking road access and we’re in the middle of pursuing a joy rider who’s made off with a military vehicle!”

“Sorry,” comes the arch voice of Dr. Camille Vidan, “I’m from Anaheim Enterprises and we were conducting a flight test on this mobile suit, but it stalled unexpectedly. Let me see if I can get it going again.”

There is absolutely nothing wrong with the White Phoenix Gundam, the most advanced mobile suit yet conceived by the human mind and constructed by the human hand. But Camille, who had done a little high school drama before he became an AEUG mobile suit pilot, makes a good show of fumbling with the mobile suit’s controls, finally raising the WPG’s massive armored foot and coming within two meters of stomping on the lead military vehicle.

“Hey, watch it!” complains the platoon sergeant.

“Sorry,” Camille apologizes again, barely able to restrain an urge to laugh.

After all these years, I still get a kick out of harassing these goons! Camille admits to himself. Well, at least they don’t wear black anymore.

Realizing that Jolie and her friends are by now kilometers away, Camille decides to end the charade, lifting the White Phoenix Gundam into a hover.

“Many apologies for the interruption, gentlemen,” Camille says blithely, “Good day to you all.”

The White Phoenix Gundam lifts off, heading back towards the Anaheim plant just as Hathaway pulls the jeep into the enclosed parking garage beneath Jolie’s apartment.

to be continued...

[GuGu]

YAY! Jolie found 'Thena!

[Ken Cheng]

YAY! Jolie found 'Thena!

Yep, and Jolie's reunion with her beloved Jonah is just around the corner (there's a number of reasons that this chapter is called "Reunions"), so you might want to stay tuned.

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 28 continued...

An hour later, Minerva Zabi tosses and turns on Jolie Minh’s bed. Together, Jolie and Hathaway have stripped Minerva out of her tight, uncomfortable normalsuit and dressed her in one of Jolie’s revealingly short nightshirts.

Minerva moans miserably as Hathaway gently lays a cold, damp towel on her forehead.

Hathaway takes his beloved’s hand gently in his own, saying softly, “Minerva? Minerva, honey…you’re going to be all right. I’m here with you; you’re safe now.”

If Minerva can hear him, however, her consciousness is too deeply buried beneath a fevered miasma for her to respond.

Minerva’s pitiable moans turn into barely audible words, “Mother….Father…Char…so sorry…I’m so…sorry. I failed. I failed you…I failed Zeon…”

Jolie comes into the room, bearing a basin filled with cool water and more towels, “How is she?”

“Not…great,” Hathaway replies, taking another damp towel from Jolie and laying it across Minerva’s throat, “She’s very sick. She’s running a high fever.”

“Should I get a doctor?” Jolie suggests.

“That would be a great idea,” Hathaway answers, “except that Minerva is a fugitive wanted by both Federation and Zeon authorities. We can’t just call up some doctor we don’t know.”

“But you said it yourself, ‘Thena’s really sick,” Jolie protests, “We’ve gotta do something!”

“Relax, Jolie,” Hathaway says, rising from Minerva’s bedside and putting on his sports jacket, “I know a doctor in town that we can absolutely trust. I’m going to bring her here. You take care of Minerva; I should be back in about an hour.”

“Take my bike,” Jolie says, throwing Hathaway the key, “that jeep we stole can’t be seen on the streets.”

“Right, thanks,” Hathaway says, catching the keys and rushing out the door.

************************************************** **************

Back at Side 7’s Garrison Noah, the Centurion Team is conducting its first regular conference under the command of Captain Jonah Michaels. Poor Jonah has slept hardly a wink since Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz’s abrupt and still inconceivable departure from the team, studying Athena’s copious notes, doing his best to adjust to his new role as commanding officer.

After over six months of continuous combat duty, the Centurion Team has earned two weeks R&R time. Jonah has decided that he and his executive officer, 2Lt. Chieming Nonah, will make a working vacation out of it…search for their missing former commanding officer and friend, Athena, in Anman City on the Moon.

The young members of the Centurion Team, to a man and a woman, express their desire to join Jonah and Chieming in their search, but Jonah denies them permission.

“Going in as a group would just make the command staff suspicious,” Jonah explains to his team reasonably, “We don’t want to endanger Athena like that. Besides, most of you haven’t seen your family in at least six months. Why not take advantage of this downtime to do that?”

“But…” Sgt. Geoff Sutcliffe begins to protest.

“Forget it, Geoff,” Jonah says, “I’m making it an order: as of now, all of you are on leave for the next fourteen days, and you’re free to go anywhere…EXCEPT Anman City.”

There is initially some grumbling among the Centurions, but ultimately, compliance with the directive of their new commanding officer.

“There’s a chance that some or all of you might be called upon to assist,” Jonah points out, “but until then, spend the free time with your loved ones. If our experiences during the war have taught us anything, it’s that it can all disappear suddenly…without warning.”

That much, the Centurions agree on indisputably. They’ve seen enough of it to know that it is true.

Two hours later, Jonah and Chieming are at the Green Oasis City Spaceport. The pair of Centurion Team officers are dressed in civilian clothing, looking to all the world like a couple of young tourists. They board a commercial civilian space shuttle flight for Anman City on the moon, where they hope they will be able to locate Chieming’s brother Hathaway and their former commanding officer, Athena Ibaz.


************************************************** ************

Minerva moans fitfully, struggling to open her eyes. Her body is drenched in her own perspiration, and she feels lightheaded and weaker than a newborn infant.

And what is that throbbing pain beneath her left shoulder?

Minerva makes out a familiar, girlish form approaching her, and for a moment, her heart is seized with terror…

The Black Raven…Captain Kyoko Yamaguchi!

No…not Yamaguchi, Minerva realizes as her head begins to clear, but she can hardly believe that an old friend, long disappeared, now stands before her.

“Jolie…,” Minerva manages to whisper weakly through dry lips, “Jolie…is that you?”

‘Thena!” Jolie’s eyes light up with delight as she rushes to her sister at arms and embraces her, “Oh, ‘Thena, thank God you’re all right!”

Minerva lets the younger woman hold her for a moment, then asks, “Jolie…where am I? Where’s Hathaway?”

Jolie answers, “You’re at my apartment in Anman City! Hathaway and I brought you here, and he went out to find a doctor to see you! You’re burning up with fever.”

Minerva turns her head to identify the source of intense pain beneath her left shoulder. Her eyes widen momentarily as she spots the bandaged, bloody stump where her left arm should be.

“’Thena,” Jolie says, her voice shaking, tears rolling down her cheek, “I’m so sorry. You were shot and very badly wounded. You…your arm…”

Minerva closes her eyes and smiles a bitter smile, “The price paid for the things I’ve done…take it…as a warning, Jolie.”

Still being my ‘big sister,’ even now, Jolie reflects, as she settles Minerva back onto the bed, “We’ll talk later. You need to rest up. I’m gonna go into the kitchen and fix you some soup. You haven’t eaten anything in days.”

Jolie leaves the room to attend to that detail. Minerva reaches over to touch her wound; it is painful to the touch, leaving her biting her lip and wincing.

Tears run forth from Minerva’s brilliant, clear blue eyes…moistening the pillow. She isn’t sure if it’s from the excruciating pain from what little is left of her arm, or from the ache in her heart.

Her dream is dead. Evil men rule space in the name of Zeon. What more is there to live for?

Minerva closes her eyes and lets the sobs come forth. Her strength, her courage, her honor and integrity…it has all amounted to nothing.

Perhaps all that is left for her is to await death.

************************************************** ********

It has taken Hathaway Noah ninety minutes to locate and reach the free medical clinic where Dr. Artasia Daikun has offered her medical services to those who need it, but cannot afford it, in Anman City. The clinic is located in a small room in an old, decaying structure located on a backstreet in the downtown zone.

Hathaway is chagrinned to discover, however, a sign on the door of the clinic indicating that Dr. Daikun is currently serving patients at a different location away from Anman City, and is not expected to return for at least three months.

Hathaway knows that the leader of the Independent Spacenoid Republic movement travels regularly, bringing her medical services to the critically ill and wounded throughout the space colonies and on Earth. She was last known to have been at this location for the past month, but has evidently moved on.

Hathaway sighs, knowing that there is no choice but to consider other options.

************************************************** **************

Hathaway returns to Jolie’s apartment, telling Jolie of his failure to locate Dr. Artasia Daikun. Hathaway is surprised and delighted to find that Minerva has regained consciousness, but dismayed to learn that she is refusing to eat.

“I tried to feed her some soup,” Jolie explains, “but I couldn’t get her to even look at me. I went as far as trying to force the spoon into her mouth, but she just pushed me away. I’ve never seen ‘Thena act like this, Hathaway. She’s slipped into some kind of depression or something!”

“Let me try,” Hathaway says gently.

The young man takes Minerva’s bedside, “Minerva…honey?”

“Leave me alone,” Minerva says miserably.

“Minerva,” Hathaway says more firmly, “Come on, stop this. This isn’t like you at all.”

Minerva says, “Damn right, it isn’t. I’m so tired…so tired of feeling afraid all the time. So tired of the plotting, the killing, and the guilt that comes after. I don’t want to do it anymore, Hathaway…”

Hathaway says, “You don’t have to.”

Minerva rises from the bed, confronting Hathaway with burning eyes moistened by tears, “That’s a lie! As long as I live, I’ll have to do it! That’s the curse of my family carries, Hathaway! A curse I can’t bear anymore! I just can’t! I’m too weak…and I’m afraid…”

Minerva leans on Hathaway’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Hathaway holds her close, gently stroking her slightly reddish blonde hair, whispering gently, “Just let it out, honey…let it all out…all those terrible things you’ve been holding inside all those years. If you can’t bear them alone, I’ll…I’ll bear them with you.”

Hathaway takes a different tack, “I remember that after Quess died…after I killed Lt. Chien Agi, I felt that life and all the values that people attach to it were just illusions. Lies that people told themselves to justify their empty existence. I felt that the only real passion was hate. I internalized that hate because it sustained me. And I turned that hate on my father and the Earth Federation he represented.”

Minerva’s sobs have subsided, though she continues to rest her head on Hathaway’s shoulder, listening to his words and reflecting upon them.

“I came to realize that it was self-loathing more than anything,” Hathaway confesses, “Misdirected feelings of resentment. It was destroying me, and for years, I couldn’t see that…until you showed me.”

Minerva lifts her head off of Hathaway’s shoulder to face him. She looks deeply into his eyes for a long moment, before finally saying, very softly, “I love you.”

Hathaway takes Minerva into his arms, kissing her sweetly on the cheek.

Jolie smiles at the couple, united earnestly in their love, really, for the first time. No more do they need to keep secrets; they have opened their souls to each other.

If only Jonah and I could do the same, Jolie laments.

Discreetly, Jolie leaves Hathaway and Minerva to share some private moments together. After their long, painful separation, the couple needs time to be together…to heal together.

And speaking of healing, Jolie has come up with a possible solution for getting Minerva some much needed medical attention.

************************************************** **************

Twenty minutes later, Jolie is at the home of Dr. Camile Vidan and his wife, Fa Yuri.

After thanking Camille profusely for having interceded against the pursuing military police with the White Phoenix Gundam, Jolie informs her mentor about her predicament concerning medical care for the wounded Minerva.

“As a matter of fact,” Camille says, “I do have a solution to your problem, but you might not like it: I can send Dr. Hassan from our company medical staff to attend to the Duchess.”

“That perv?!” Jolie blurts back with mild annoyance, “Don’t get me wrong, Doc. Hassan knows his medicine; he’s no quack, but he’s definitely a perv! I don’t want him touching ‘Thena! ‘Specially since Hathaway’s there! He puts any funny moves on her and Hathaway will cave his face in!”

Dr. Amir Hassan was the ship’s physician aboard the AEUG flagship Ahrgama during the Grypps Conflict and the First Axis War. He was a dedicated and skillful physician who often patched up members of the Ahrgama after they returned wounded from battles against the Titans and the Axis Zeon, but, true to Jolie’s characterization, the doctor is also known for being unable to help his rushing hands and roaming fingers when he has an attractive young female in his examination room.

“Jolie,” Camille says calmly, “I understand your concerns about Dr. Hassan, but don’t forget, you and Hathaway Noah will both be there. He’ll be on his best behavior. More importantly, Hassan is the only physician on the staff that we know for sure has no Federation or Zeon loyalties that would cause him to sell the Duchess out. Hassan was an AEUG man. He hates both the Federation and the Zeon.”

Jolie bites her nails anxiously for a moment, and then finally makes her decision, “All right. Athena needs medical care and I have to make sure she gets it. But I have to tell you up front now, Doc: if Hassan even looks at her the wrong way, I’m sending him back to you in little pieces!”

Camille grins, “We’re Anaheim Enterprises, kiddo. We can put anything back together.”

************************************************** ***************

Dr. Hassan is summoned and, after being brought up to speed on the situation by Camille (and warned direly by Jolie about the consequences if he does anything untoward to Minerva), is dispatched to Jolie’s apartment to do what he can for Minerva.

Hathaway has succeeded in coaxing Minerva into eating, feeding her the soup that Jolie prepared earlier. Having taken some nutrients into her body for the first time in nearly a week, Minerva looks stronger, although still significantly weakened.

Dr. Hassan undresses and examines Minerva’s wounded arm (and, vigilantly watched by both Hathaway and Jolie, nothing else), assessing the extent of the injury and determining the next course of treatment.

Dr. Hassan nods approvingly, “Whoever performed the initial treatment procedures knew what he was doing. If the wounded tissue had not been cut away, infection would likely have set in, and things would have been even more complicated…perhaps fatally so. Good, clean work on the amputation procedure too.”

Thank God for Sister Frau, Hathaway offers a silent prayer.

Dr. Hassan cleans out Minerva’s wound and dresses it in fresh gauze. He also administers her some antipyretics to bring down her fever.

“The wound needs to be cleaned and re-dressed daily,” Dr. Hassan tells Hathaway and Jolie, “other than that, Miss Minerva needs plenty of rest and tender loving care. I’ll stop by again tomorrow.”

Jolie sees the physician out, glaring at him when he takes a longer-than-necessary look at Minerva’s attractive complexion (until Hathaway steps in front of her protectively).

After the doctor has gone, Hathaway strokes Minerva’s silk-smooth cheek fondly, “You’ll be fine; the doctor said all you need is some ‘tender loving care.’”

Minerva leans her face gently against the warmth of Hathaway’s hand, “Think I’ll be able to find any on the Moon?”

“Depends which way you look,” Hathaway replies lovingly, lifting Minerva’s chin so that the two look into each other’s eyes.

Minerva says, “I once told you to disappear into my blind spot…to a place where I could never see you.”

Hathaway answers, “Compliance isn’t one of my strengths.”

Minerva reaches out to Hathaway with her one good hand, running it fondly through his dark hair, “That was a promise that you made to Athena Ibaz. Athena is dead now. Will you make another promise…to Minerva Zabi?”

Hathaway nods, “A hundred billion, if you ask.”

Minerva leans forward into Hathaway’s warm embrace, saying, “I always want to be able to see you…to hold you. Please never disappear into my blind spot ever again, Hathaway. Stay with me, please.”

Hathaway smiles at the woman he loves, “Like you have to ask? We’re in it together forever, honey.”

The couple embraces warmly. For the first time in many, many years…perhaps the first time in her life, Minerva feels truly happy.

Jolie observes the loving couple from a crack in the door and smiles warmly. At least this love story will have a happy ending.

A PSI-spark alerts Jolie…a familiar feeling that she has not sensed in months suddenly overwhelms her, sparking hope in her heart.

Jonah? Can it be you…here?!

Satisfied that Athena will be fine in Hathaway’s care, Jolie steals out of the apartment, hops onto her motorcycle, and guns her vehicle to life.

Episode 28 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 28 continued...

Jolie turns her bike towards the spaceport, her heart pumping as if powered by a thousand pistons.

Minutes earlier, a space shuttle touched down at the Anman International Spaceport. Disembarking from Allied Spaceways Flight # 0287 are passengers Jonah Michaels and Chieming Noah, who as Earth Federation Special Forces officers, clear customs quickly.

Jonah and Chieming secure a rental vehicle…a small sports car.

As Jonah boards the vehicle, a PSI-spark erupts from his head, alarming him and filling him with impossible hope.

Jolie?!

Jonah hits the ignition on the auto and speeds out of the parking structure, speeding towards the heart of the city.

Ten minutes later, Jolie’s motorbike is doggedly pursuing Jonah’s rented sports car through the streets of Anman City.

Chieming notices their pursuer, “Jonah, we’re being followed.”

“I know,” Jonah says, “Hang on.”

Jonah takes the vehicle off the main boulevard towards a bridge that crosses into some parkland…

Jolie continues to pursue on her motorcycle, her features concealed behind the enclosed visor of her helmet.

Jonah brings the car to a halt by the park’s artificial lake, facing the diminutive driver of the motorcycle.

The motorcyclist dismounts.

Jonah disembarks from the driver’s seat of the auto, facing the anonymous female motorcyclist who faces him

Jonah experiences a sensation of déjà vu. When has this happened to him before?

The motorcyclist doffs her helmet, long black hair flows down around familiar, silk-smooth cheeks and wide eyes that burn like flaming pools.

“Jolie…” Jonah whispers in disbelief, convinced that he is hallucinating.

Teardrops roll down Jolie’s cheek from each of her eyes as she sees Jonah standing not twenty meters from her, “Jonah…”

The teenaged lovers rush into each other’s arms, collapsing into sobs as they embrace at last.

Jonah twirls Jolie around joyously, fearing only that this is indeed a hallucination or a dream, “Jolie…JOLIE! Oh, God, please be real!”

Jolie smiles through her tears, “I’m real! Jonah, it’s me! I’m here!”

For the first time in over a half a year, the couple exchanges a kiss. The taste of each other’s lips is the sweetest thing either of them has ever tasted.

“Jolie…Oh, God, Jolie…I’ve missed you so much,” Jonah says through a quavering voice.

“Jonah,” Jolie sobs, “Jonah, I’m so sorry I left you. I love you so much. I won’t ever leave you again…never!”

Jonah drops to his knees, taking Jolie’s hands, “Jolie, I’m so sorry for not telling you…about my brother…I…”

Jolie mirrors Jonah’s kneeling posture, saying softly, “I forgive you, Jonah. It wasn’t your fault. I was angry and I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have left you. Can you forgive me?”

Jonah holds Jolie close, “Maybe we don’t have to forgive anything…as long as we promise to stay together forever.”

“Forever,” Jolie agrees, “We’ll never be apart again.”

From the door of the sports car, Chieming smiles wanly at the couple. Most of her is happy for her friends, glad to see them finding each other again, and reigniting the flame of love between them. Another, smaller part of Chieming knows this is the end of something she had dared to dream…

Jolie and Jonah are so absorbed with each other that for several minutes, they forget that Chieming is there. They notice her as she tentatively steps closer.

Jolie’s face becomes a mask of delight as she spots her old friend, “Chibi!”

Jolie rushes to embrace Chieming, who receives her friend warmly.

“Jolie,” Chieming says with a fond smile, “It’s been a long time, girl! It’s so good to see you!”

“So you finally made it into the Centurion Team!” Jolie says with a grin.

“Yeah,” Chieming replies, surprised, “I have. But how did you kno…?”

Jolie answers, “’Thena and Hathaway told me.”

“Athena?” Chieming says, blinking, “You mean Athena’s really here at Anman?”

“What’s this about Athena?” asks Jonah, putting his arms around Jolie.

“She’s staying with me,” Jolie says, “with Chieming’s brother, Hathaway.”

“They’re both all right, then!” Chieming exults, “Thank goodness!”

“I’ll take you to them,” Jolie says, “Follow me.”

Jolie mounts her motorcycle and re-dons her helmet. Jonah and Chieming board the sports car and follow Jolie home.

************************************************** ****************

After they arrive at Jolie’s apartment fifteen minutes later, there is a tearful and joyous reunion among the five youths…Minerva, Jolie, Jonah, Hathaway, and Chieming. Never have all five been together in a room at the same time, but the bond among them is as undeniable as it is inextricable.

Jonah and Chieming are delighted to see that their former commanding officer and “big sister” has survived her terrible ordeal, but are saddened to see the cost that her courageous actions had incurred upon her. And soon, the discussion becomes grim as it turns to the issue of Alexander Miguel.

“I’m thinking that Alex’s next move after Side 3 is secured is that he’ll launch an attack against the Federation,” Jonah says, “That’s the way Alex thinks: infiltrate, compromise, and then destroy from within.”

“You’re right,” Minerva says, “That’s the same thing I’ve been thinking. Unfortunately, from our position right now, there’s little we can do about it.”

A beep from Hathaway Noah’s Datapad indicates that he has received a message. After identifying the messenger as Dory Ischinda, Hathaway excuses himself to take and return the message.

“Hathaway?” Dory’s voice comes through the Datapad.

“Go ahead, Dory,” Hathaway says.

“Thank goodness!” Dory says, audibly relieved, “We haven’t been able to make contact with you since the Side 7 incident!”

“I know,” Hathaway says, “I’m sorry. I’ve been…on the run the past few days.”

“Hathaway,” Dory says almost fearfully, “What about Minerva? Is she…?”

“Minerva’s alive,” Hathaway says, “I was able to find her in time, but I couldn’t…Dory, brace yourself for this. Minerva has lost her left arm. She was so badly wounded that we had to have her arm amputated to save her life.”

There is shocked silence on the other side of the line for several, long minutes.

“Dory?” Hathaway says tentatively, “Dory, are you all right? Do you hear me?”

Dory finally responds, her voice weak and choked, “I…I’m here. I’m sorry. Oh…God.”

Hathaway says reassuringly, “But Minerva’s otherwise all right. She was very sick when we first got here, but she’s better now. I tried looking for Dr. Daikun.”

“Artasia’s not at Anman,” Dory says, “she left several days ago. She’s down on Earth…at her foster parents’ old home.”

“I see,” Hathaway replies, “Dory, what about…that stuff we picked up?”

By that, Dory knows that Hathaway refers to the various armaments…nuclear, biological, and chemical, that the ISRLA stole from the Earth Federation Forces and their Zeon allies with Minerva’s help.

“It’s all secure,” Dory says vaguely, “but the bloodhounds are sniffing around our tails, so we’ve had to keep moving.”

Hathaway decides it’s better if they do not continue to discuss it over the transmission waves, and changes the subject, “I think I’ll take Minerva down to Earth to see Dr. Daikun.”

“Good idea,” Dory says, “We need to get together a plan of action.”

“I’ll get in touch with you again after we’ve reached Earth,” Hathaway promises.

“Right,” Dory says, “Talk to you again then.”

Hathaway returns to Jolie’s living room, where the others are discussing future plans.

Hathaway interjects, “Minerva, that was Dory. She says Dr. Daikun is on Earth now, at her foster parents’ home, wherever that is…”

Minerva nods, “I know where it is.”

Hathaway’s eyes widen, “You do? But how?”

“I’ll explain later,” Minerva says, “But we have to act quickly. Alexander Miguel will likely first purge Side 3 of all dissidents, consolidate his strength, and then move against the Federation.”

Minerva turns to Jolie, “Jolie, I want you to go back with Jonah and Chieming. They’re going to need you and that new Gundam prototype you’ve told us about.”

Jolie says, “I’m planning to stay with Jonah no matter what, but I can’t go back to the Federal Forces, ‘Thena. I’m a deserter, remember? If the Federation authorities catch me, they’ll throw me in military prison.”

“Maybe my father can help us on that,” Chieming offers helpfully, “I received a message from him the other day. He’s rethinking his retirement and might be returning to active duty soon.”

“It’s decided, then,” Minerva says, “Hathaway and I will go to Earth to see Dr. Artasia Daikun, while Jolie, Jonah, and Chieming will return to Side 7.”

************************************************** *****************

Two hours later, Hathaway, Jonah, Jolie, and Chieming are in Anman City making various travel arrangements. Minerva, still convalescing from her wounds, stays at Jolie’s apartment.

Jolie returns first from her errand, carrying with her, among other things, a bag of newly bought clothing…a turtleneck sweater, a dark blazer, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of Chelsea boots…all in Minerva’s size.

Minerva gratefully dresses herself in the new outfit, tired of feeling like an invalid. Besides, Jolie’s nightshirts are too short for her and don’t provide nearly enough coverage.

Jolie helps Minerva, still adjusting to living with only one arm, into the blazer, “You really should get some more rest. You’re better, but nowhere near fully recovered, ‘Thena.”

“You really should stop calling me that,” Minerva says grimly, “Athena Ibaz doesn’t exist anymore, Jolie.”

“To the rest of the world, maybe,” Jolie replies defiantly, “You can be Minerva Zabi to everyone else, but to me, you’ll always be Athena. I don’t know Minerva Zabi. She’s just a dead princess from history to me. My best friend…my big sister, is Athena Ibaz, and always will be.”

Minerva smiles, “Still as stubborn as ever. Guess there’s no dissuading you.”

Minerva now properly dressed (and looking as ravishing as ever, missing arm notwithstanding), Jolie inserts a cigarette between her friend’s lips and lights it for her.

“Thank you,” Minerva says, genuinely grateful, “You don’t know how much I need this.”

“I really shouldn’t,” Jolie admits, “You’re recovering from massive blood loss and a fever, and cigarettes aren’t really the best thing for your body right now, but I know you well enough to know that you want to get your mind together before anything else.”

Minerva grins at Jolie, beginning to feel like her old self again for the first time in what feels like years, “Jolie, could you turn on the news please?”

Jolie complies, switching on her television. UNN is hosting an interview with Archduke Alexander Miguel, the sovereign of the new Archduchy of Zeon.

UNN anchor and host Connie Walters (formerly of the Lunar Broadcasting Network) announces, “Welcome back to UNN Political Forum. I’m your host, Connie Walters. We’re here with Archduke Alexander Miguel, Head of State for the new Archduchy of Zeon. Your highness: that phrase, ‘Archduchy of Zeon,’ still alarms most people, and understandably so. Twenty years ago, the Archduchy of Zeon initiated a war against the Earth Federation that caused more deaths than any other war in human history. It was a catastrophe whose effects we still feel acutely today, a generation later, and will likely continue to feel as the years roll on. And yet, you’re asking people both at Side 3 and throughout the space colonies and Earth to trust you when you say that this is a new, different Archduchy of Zeon and that your goal is to establish peace for the people of space. Could you explain to us, your highness, just what your plan is and why the people of Earth and the colonies should look to your plan with hope rather than fear?”

Archduke Miguel presents his most charming smile for the cameras, “Connie, I knew from the beginning that the name ‘Zeon’ would cause apprehension for many people. As you say, it’s understandable. The Zabi regime and the Char regime that followed it perverted the name of Zeon in the name of their personal ambitions, and left behind a legacy of destruction and terror that left billions dead. I can’t undo the horrors that they inflicted upon the world, but I do hope to build a new, more positive legacy for Zeon…one that respects the sanctity of life and the common humanity we share, be we Earthnoid or Spacenoid.”

Minerva, watching and listening to Miguel posture on the screen, cannot help but smirk and nod her head in ironic mock-admiration. As much as he disgusts her, Minerva cannot help respecting Miguel’s shamelessly bold capacity to lie and manipulate. He does have that hypnotic charm that mesmerizes and deceives so many.

Jolie, her face registering only contempt for Miguel, spares a glance at Minerva. Jolie’s look of disgust then transforms into one of delight as she catches that look in Minerva’s eye…that gleam that indicates that she is already devising Miguel’s demise. Jolie knows that Minerva's edge has returned

Minerva’s eyes narrow as she watches Miguel on the television screen, exhaling a stream of tobacco smoke, Enjoy your victory while you can, Alexander Miguel. You’re going down.


To be continued in Episode 29...

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 29: CROSSROADS

A train speeds from Zurich, Switzerland towards the town of St. Moritz high in the Alps. Summer has come to Switzerland, and the trains are packed with tourists, students, businesspeople…and two ISRLA refugees.

Minerva Zabi and Hathaway Noah had departed Anman City on the Moon scarcely forty-eight hours earlier, on a private space shuttle chartered by the ISR. Making use of Minerva and Dr. Artasia Daikun’s connections to the Earth Federation’s powerful Mass family, the shuttle was able to bypass Federation security and customs to land at the Zurich International Spaceport unmolested by Federal Forces authorities.

Minerva and Hathaway are presently headed towards the Mass’ home high in the Alps, approximately twenty kilometers outside of St. Moritz, where Artasia awaits them. It was there that Minerva grew to womanhood…as Artasia (as Sayla Mass) had before her.

Minerva snuggles closer to Hathaway, resting in his warm embrace as they sit together in corner seat of the train car. The young couple is dressed in civilian wear: dark blazers, pastel turtlenecks, blue jeans, and black boots, looking not at all out of place among the other passengers on the train.

“How are you feeling?” Hathaway asks Minerva, running his fingers gently through her soft, reddish blonde hair.

“Much better,” Minerva answers, looking up at Hathaway with a reassuring smile, “I was a little faint when we got off the shuttlecraft in Zurich, but that’s probably just reentry fatigue and Earth gravity adjustment. I’ll be fine.”

“Your wound isn’t healed,” Hathaway points out, “and you haven’t fully recovered from your illness. Take it easy. Rest a while.”

Minerva nods and leans her head on Hathaway’s shoulder. He kisses her warmly on the cheek and covers her with his overcoat.

Hathaway sighs contentedly. The past few weeks have been harrowing – a dangerous cat-and-mouse game with the Earth Federation and Archduchy of Zeon Forces, and he and Minerva have nearly lost their lives on a half dozen occasions during that time. But the happiest, unplanned consequence of these incidents is that, at long last, he and Minerva are together.

To Hathaway, that alone is worth any sacrifice.

The other passengers aboard the train car in which Hathaway and Minerva ride range from young children to elderly people, and one particularly boisterous group are a dozen youths, from their early teens to their mid-twenties, dressed rather unconventionally in flowery shirts, headbands, beads, and bell-bottomed trousers.

Hippies, Hathaway recalls from his junior high school history lessons. Youths disaffected from the values of mainstream society seeking an alternative way of life…following a code of universal brotherhood and love. The hippies have made something of a resurgence during the past twenty years, since the One Year War and the beginning of the era of space warfare brought a whole new level of brutality to human history.

Quess was a hippie, Hathaway remembers, then quickly sets aside, feeling not just a little guilty to be thinking of Quess while holding Minerva in his arms.

Hathaway takes a moment to reflect upon the two women with whom, during his twenty years, he has been in love. Quess…she had been so full of life, so flighty. Quess had a pure, but untempered and immature soul. Her short life was mercurial, her ideals and loyalties easily malleable…and easily warped, as they had been by Char.

Minerva, in so many ways, is the antithesis of Quess. Though young in years, Minerva’s soul is much older…that of an experienced and mature woman, steadfast in her principles and dedicated to those dear to her. Minerva is not one to easily share her heart with anyone, but when she does extend her trust, it is absolutely ironclad.

And then, Hathaway realizes it: Quess had been the infatuation of a boy; Minerva is the true love of a man.

Hathaway kisses Minerva gently above her eye, thanking his Maker that he has her, vowing to be true to her for as long as he lives.

Hathaway’s reflections are interrupted by the sound produced by bhe leader of the hippie clan, a man of around twenty-five years of age, as he begins to animatedly strum an acoustic guitar, leading his clan through a rousing song:

“Wash away my troubles, wash away my pain
With the rain in Shambala
Wash away my sorrow, wash away my shame
With the rain in Shambala."

The youths’ singing has roused Minerva, who looks up from Hathaway’s embrace to watch the performance, momentarily entranced by the song.

"Ah, ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Everyone is helpful, everyone is kind
On the road to Shambala
Everyone is lucky, everyone is so kind
On the road to Shambala

How does your light shine, in the halls of Shambala

I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes
On the road to Shambala
I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes
On the road to Shambala

How does your light shine, in the halls of Shambala.”

Hathaway enjoys the melody, nodding his head to the beat, “Great tune…but what are they singing about?”

“Shambala,” Minerva explains, “according to the Buddhists of Tibet, Shambala is a mythical kingdom hidden somewhere within or beyond the peaks of the Himalayas. The name of this kingdom comes from a Sanskrit term that means ‘place of peace, tranquility, and happiness.’ Shambala is said to be a ‘Pure Land’ by Buddhists: a place where all the inhabitants are enlightened and live in everlasting peace with themselves, with each other, and with nature.”

Hathaway asks, “Do you believe such a place exists?”

“Every time you kiss me,” Minerva replies with a smile.

Their lips lock, warm courses of positive energy flowing between their bodies, strengthening and reinforcing each other with their love.

The hippie clan continues its joyous performance of the song, blissfully oblivious to all else.

The lyrics of the song replay themselves again and again in Minerva’s head…

Wash away my troubles, wash away my pain
With the rain in Shambala
Wash away my sorrow, wash away my shame
With the rain in Shambala…


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Jolie Minh’s bedroom at her townhouse in Anman City, Jolie and Jonah are also enraptured by a flow of positive energy generated between them, but in a much more carnal and intimate context than Hathaway and Minerva can in a public train car crowded with passengers.

Jolie pants gently, her tiny body slick with hot perspiration, as Jonah’s hands caress the twin globes of her buttocks. Her panting culminates in a lustful cry and a laughing sigh as the pleasant sensation reaches a climax.

Jolie leans her face forward to lock Jonah’s lips in a long, ravenous kiss…her long, black hair flowing freely down into Jonah’s face.

Jonah lightly brushes aside the hair to examine his fiancée’s flawlessly beautiful, silk-smooth face, the same now as he remembers it. His hands run up the sides of Jolie’s slim, curvaceous form, drinking in the stimulating sensation greedily through his sensitive figures.

“Wonderful…” is all he can say.

“That…felt…so…good,” Jolie breathes, “especially after all this time.”

“I missed you,” Jonah says, “I’m so relieved we’re together again.”

Jolie leans her head on Jonah’s chest, “Forever this time.”

“Forever,” Jonah agrees.

Jolie lifts her head off of Jonah’s chest, looking at him with those fiery eyes that he so adores, dismounting from where she straddles his supine, naked form.

Jolie picks up a towel, wraps it around her unclothed body, and heads for the bathroom, “Better get dressed, soldier boy, I’ve got a full itinerary scheduled for us today.”

“Uh-oh,” Jonah replies with a knowing grin, “Where are you taking me, Jo-Girl?”

“To work, Jo-Boy,” Jolie says, her body already behind the bathroom door, her head still peering at him, “It’s ‘Take Your Significant Other to Work Day,’ or in other words, there’s something I want to show you.”

Jonah rises from the bed and the couple takes to the apartment’s lone shower together…

Episode 29 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 29 continued...

An hour later, Jolie has brought Jonah to the headquarters of Anaheim Skunkworks Division, and introduces Jonah to Dr. Camille Vidan.

“So you’re Captain Michaels,” Camille says, shaking the younger man’s hand with a pleasant smile, “Jolie can’t stop gushing about you.”

“Probably exaggerating as usual,” Jonah says good-naturedly.

“What’d you want me say?” Jolie interjects mischievously, “That you’re a pansy artist type?”

Jonah shoots Jolie a sidelong glare, and Camille has a chuckle. Jolie and Jonah together are everything he imagined them to be.

Camille explains, “We’ve been working on this prototype for several years, Jonah, and luckily, we’ve had Jolie to help us test it during the past few months. It was meant to be assigned to Jolie, initially, and after she left the Federal Forces, the plan became to assign it to you. Right now, however, it’s up in the air as far as exactly which one of you will actually pilot it, but it’ll definitely be one of you.”

“I got dibs,” Jolie says, eyeing Jonah with a mock-serious glare.

Jonah’s reply is genuinely serious, “That’s probably out of our hands. Chieming went down to Earth to see what her father can do about getting your desertion charge pardoned, but we don’t know how that’s going to work out.”

Not willing to worry about that particular problem at the moment, Jolie takes Jonah by the hand and takes him on a run to the White Phoenix Gundam’s maintenance dock, where the mighty war machine is undergoing routine testing and inspection.

Jonah’s jaw drops when he sees it, “What a monster…”

“It totally blows away the Centurion Gundam,” Jolie comments, “and it can transform like the Cour de Leon. It’s also armed with enough weapons to blow up half the moon!”

“That’s a lot of power,” Jonah observes, “It has to be used responsibly.”

Jolie responds to that by pushing an Anaheim Enterprises normalsuit/helmet combination into Jonah’s arms, “Get dressed. We’re gonna go for a test drive!”

Fifteen minutes later, Jolie and Jonah have boarded the White Phoenix Gundam, straightening their helmets and sealing the O-ring collars of their normalsuits. Jolie sits in the pilot/mecha commander’s seat, while Jonah is strapped into the secondary systems/engineering substation slightly above and behind her.

“Initiating start-up sequence on nuclear fusion engines one and two,” Jolie announces, hitting the switches that bring the mighty mobile suit to life.

“Combat computer online,” Jonah announces, “All systems clear for launch.”

“Seven seconds to critical mass,” Jolie affirms, “six, five, four, three, two, one…”

The White Phoenix Gundam’s eyes flare star-flame white as the mobile suit’s engines roar, boosting the mecha into the lunar skies.

“Camille says that the Centurion Gundam can dock with the WPG,” Jonah remarks, “Then it becomes an even more powerful machine…the Psi-Gundam.”

“Yeah,” Jolie shoots back cynically, “Like that isn’t going to confuse us with those mechanical nightmares the Titans used back in the late 80s.”

“The Titans,” Jonah says thoughtfully, “I’m afraid the Federation is headed back in that direction again, Jolie. Athena…I mean, Minerva told you why she helped the ISRLA to hijack that convoy, didn’t she?”

“The Federation was giving those nukes and nerve gas to your brother to use against the people of Side 3,” Jolie answers grimly.

“We can’t let them succeed,” Jonah says resolutely, “We have to stop those madmen, Jolie, before they murder more people.”

Jolie nods in approval as she throws the WPG into a series of wild maneuvers to impress Jonah. She then deploys the WPG’s multiple weapon systems at target drones to demonstrate what the White Phoenix Gundam can do offensively.

“We will,” Jolie resolves, “We’ll do it together.”

Jonah feels reassured. For the first time in a very long while, he feels a sense of hope.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the same time, Chieming Noah has returned to her family’s home outside the Federation capital of Shanghai, China. Chieming meets with her parents, retired General Bright Noah and newly elected Federation Senator Mirai Yashima-Noah, discussing recent events concerning the Earth Federation, the Archduchy of Zeon, the ISRLA, Chieming’s friends Minerva Zabi, Jolie Minh, and Jonah Michaels…and Chieming’s brother, Hathaway.

The Noahs listen to their daughter’s long explication of recent events with taut attention. Senator Mirai, in particular, wears the look of a worried mother, concerned for her firstborn.

A long, grim silence follows the end of Chieming’s recounting of the recent past.

Bright breaks the silence with a deep sigh, “So where is Hathaway now? I assume he’s still with Duchess Minerva.”

Chieming nods, “They’re also here on Earth…in Switzerland, I think. They’re going to line up some support against Alexander Miguel’s new Zeon regime.”

“They must have gone to see Sayla,” Mirai observes, “Sayla has connections with the Mass family. The Masses have great influence in the Federation. Don Teabolo Mass was a good friend of my father; they served in the Federation Senate together during the U.C. 0050s and 0060s.”

Bright acknowledges his agreement with a nod, “So difficult to believe that the Duchess of Zeon had been right under our noses all this time, and we had no idea…”

“We also had no idea that our son had fallen in love with a duchess,” Mirai smiles wryly, “Your brother certainly has exquisite taste in women, Chieming.”

Chieming is amused by her mother’s comment, but Bright strokes his beard anxiously, “A potentially dangerous young woman, this Duchess Minerva, but I trust her. Even though she was operating under a false identity as Athena Ibaz, my instincts tell me that her actions are sincere, and her intentions benign.”

Chieming’s eyes light up, “Does that mean you approve of Hathaway and Minerva being together?”

Bright smiles, “Hathaway is his own man. I’m his father, but it’s not my place to tell him whom he should or shouldn’t love. He can decide that for himself. However…I must admit that I’m pleased it’s the Duchess Minerva…or perhaps I should say ‘Athena.’”. That’s a young lady with a good head on her shoulders; she’ll be able to keep that brother of yours in line much better than I ever could.”

Chieming is delighted by this apparent thaw in the long-chilly relations between her father and her brother, but then more grim thoughts come to her, “Daddy, what are we going to do about the Federation and Alexander Miguel? According to Hathaway and Minerva, they tried to wipe out Side 3, and they suspect that Miguel is going to turn against the Federation after he’s consolidated his power over Zeon.”

“That fool Blackhead and his sycophants have no idea what they’re doing,” Bright says bitterly, “and the Federation High Council is governed by cowards and idiots. Your mother is working hard in the Senate to thwart their crazier ideas, but there’s lots of resistance. As for me…I suppose forty-one is too young for a man to be retired, isn’t it?”

Chieming grins, “Daddy, do you mean you’ll be returning to active service?”

Bright nods, “That’s my plan. Now isn’t the best time to make my move, though. I have to wait until Miguel exposes himself for the snake he is.”

Chieming says, “But what about Jolie? Jonah and I think it’s best if we can get her back on the Centurion Team, but…”

Bright replies, “I’m a good friend with one of the chief magistrates in the military courts, Justice Michael Neumann. Unfortunately, in his opinion, barring extraordinary circumstances, it’s difficult to find a legal way to get Jolie’s desertion charge waived.”

Chieming looks disappointed, and Bright places his hand comfortingly on his daughter’s shoulder, “I understand how you feel. The Federation will need Jolie if war erupts with the Zeon. We’ll think of something…”

That’s enough to satisfy Chieming, who finds herself wondering how Hathaway and Minerva were doing in pursuing their plans.

Episode 29 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 29 continued...

Minerva and Hathaway arrive at last at the Alpine estate of former Federation Senator Don Teabolo Mass and his wife, Amelia, located by a crystalline mountain lake twenty-odd kilometers outside of St. Moritz.

Minerva allows Hathaway to help her from the horse-drawn carriage that had brought them here from St. Moritz.

I’m home, Minerva realizes, breathing in the clean, fresh Alpine air, gazing longingly at the Alpine cottage where she lived for five years from the time she was ten until she joined the Earth Federation Forces.

Athena Ibaz was born here, Minerva reflects, but Athena is dead now. Minerva Zabi has returned.

Minerva seems rooted to the spot, unable to command her legs to move her forward towards the home where she spent her adolescent years.

Hathaway takes Minerva by the hand; she feels reassurance in its warmth.

Together, the young couple approaches the palatial, but friendly and inviting house.

Minerva spots a white-haired old woman, in her seventies, but still commanding much of the vigor and agility of her youth, attending to the garden of beautiful flowers in front of the house. Minerva immediately recognizes the elderly woman’s elegant grace, with a pleasant, kind face that, though aged, retains the imprint of the beauty she had in her earlier years.

The kind face brightens in delight when her eyes spot Minerva approaching.

“Oh, I must be dreaming,” the woman says in a dulcet, musical voice, “Minerva, is that really you?”

“Yes, Lady Amelia,” Minerva replies, her eyes brimming with tears of joy, “I’m home.”

Lady Amelia Mass runs to embrace the young woman she has treated as her own granddaughter, “Minerva, I’m so happy to see you…thank God you’ve come home. When I heard news of what had happened at Side 7, and your involvement in it, I feared the worst.”

“Lady Amelia,” Minerva says, her voice choked, “I’m so sorry I made you worry.”

“What you did was very courageous,” Lady Amelia says, “Don and I…oh, my God!”

Lady Amelia feels the emptiness of the left sleeve of Minerva’s blazer, and the old woman’s eyes go wide with horror, “Minerva, what…?”

“The price paid for doing something 'courageous,’” Minerva says, “Don’t worry, Lady Amelia. I’m all right now. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, Minerva,” Lady Amelia repeats softly, breaking into gentle sobs.

“I’m still alive,” Minerva says gently, reassuring the woman who has been so much like a grandmother to her, “Please, don’t be so upset.”

An elderly man, also in his seventies, approaches. He is elegant and refined, a head of silver hair matched perfectly by an equally silver moustache. His wiry frame is the build of a scholar’s, and his eyes sparkle with both keen intelligence and deep compassion.

Between the early U.C. 0050s and early U.C. 0070s, Senator Don Teabolo Mass had been one of the stalwart champions of Contolist rights in the Earth Federation Government. Senators Zeon Daikun and Degin Zabi had been among his closest friends in those years, although Senator Mass was a Federation loyalist and disagreed with Daikun and Zabi’s separatist stance. Senator Mass’s voice had been among the most influential in the Federation Senate and High Council for two decades, but after the assassination of Zeon Daikun and the subsequent slide of Side 3 into fascism and militarism, a disillusioned Senator Mass retired from public life in the early U.C. 0070s, turning his energy and attention to raising Zeon Daikun’s two orphaned children, Casval and Artasia, who would become better known later in their lives as Char Aznable and Sayla Mass.

Senator Mass’s only biological son, Theodore, died in the line of duty as an officer in the Earth Federation Forces during the Battle of Luum at the beginning of the One Year War. The Senator’s grief over the loss of his son further disillusioned him, and he vowed to dedicate his remaining years and still-potent political influence towards reforming the Earth Federation Government and establishing peace and justice in the space colonies.

In the late U.C. 0080s, Char brought back to Switzerland a young child, the ten year-old Duchess Minerva Zabi of the Archduchy of Zeon, now homeless and nationless. Senator Mass adopted Minerva into his home and raised her almost as a granddaughter, much as he had earlier raised Char and Sayla. As Minerva grew to womanhood and began to pursue her ideals, which were also Senator Mass’s, he assisted her in fashioning the identity of Athena Ibaz, and supported her enlistment in the Earth Federation Forces in that identity.

The retired Federation statesman, now an avuncular figure, greets Minerva with a warm smile, “Welcome home, Minerva my dear.”

Noting Minerva’s lost arm, Senator Mass’s smile becomes a frown, “You’ve suffered terribly.”

Minerva replies, “A small price to pay for the lives of hundreds of millions, Senator sir.”

Minerva embraces the old gentleman who has been like a grandfather to her, more than Degin Zabi ever could have been, “I’ve missed you, sir.”

“We’ve also missed you,” the aged senator says, feeling his adopted grandchild’s silk-smooth cheeks, “Can it be? You’re even thinner than when you left us five years ago, and you were a waif even then!”

Minerva smiles wanly, “Life on the run has disagreed with me.”

“Minerva?” Lady Amelia inquires, indicating Hathaway Noah, “Who is this young man you came with?”

“I’m sorry,” Minerva says to all three of her companions, “Senator, Lady Amelia: this is Hathaway Noah. He was the one who saved my life in the aftermath of the recent incident at Side 7.”

Senator Mass scrutinizes Hathaway carefully for a moment, as if in half-recognition, and then it dawns on the older man, “Bright Noah and Mirai Yashima’s son?”

“That’s right, sir,” Hathaway says, with an unfamiliar hint of pride in his voice.

The old senator pats Hathaway on the shoulder amicably, “Your father and mother are among the few who truly uphold the ideals that the Earth Federation was founded upon. Your grandfather, the previous Senator Yashima, was a great friend and colleague of mine.”

Hathaway finds himself taking a great liking to the senior statesman, and begins to wonder if there is more nobleness among the Federation’s old guard than he had imagined.

As Senator Mass engages Hathaway in a discussion about his experiences with Hathaway's maternal grandfather, Lady Amelia pulls Minerva aside and whispers conspiratorially into her ear, “Minerva, sweetie, please tell me: there’s more to your relationship with Hathaway besides his having saved your life, isn’t there?”

Minerva smiles sheepishly, “It’s a very complicated story, Lady Amelia, but yes…we’re in love.”

Lady Amelia is pleased by the revelation, “That’s wonderful to hear: I always did worry when you were growing up with us that the life you were forced to lead would make it difficult for you to ever start a loving relationship with a young man.”

“I made it hard on myself,” Minerva admits, “but I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

Maybe there’s a lesson for the world in that, Minerva muses.

The two discussions are interrupted by the sound of approaching hoof beats.

“Artasia is returning from her work at the local village clinic,” Senator Mass says, “She’s been expecting you, Minerva.”

“You two should be like sisters,” Lady Amelia adds, “both of you practically are half sisters, having both grown up in our care. And yet…you’ve only met Artasia once, is that correct, Minerva?”

“Yes,” Minerva confirms, “Only once…very briefly.”

Dr. Artasia Som Daikun, the elegant woman also known to some as Sayla Mass, dismounts from her steed. Spotting Minerva, she approaches with a smile.

“Your Highness,” Artasia says, “It’s been a very long time.”

“It has,” Minerva replies, sizing up the other woman cautiously, “I…never thought we would meet again.”

“I believe we were always destined to meet,” Artasia counters, then adds, “Minerva…will you walk with me by the lake? I need to speak with you – privately.”

Artasia and Minerva walk together towards the shore of the beautiful crystalline lake, while Senator Mass and Lady Amelia invite Hathaway into their palatial home.

Before he disappears into the warm, welcoming cottage, Hathaway turns around to glance at Artasia and Minerva approaching the lakeshore, sensing that the discussion they are having will change the course of humanity’s future forever.


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Artasia and Minerva slow their pace as they near the lakeshore. The short, five-minute walk from the Mass’s cottage to the lakeside has been silent, awkward, and somewhat tense.

They stop at an old oak tree by the lake.

Artasia touches the trunk of the ancient arbor gently with her hand, saying, “Casval and I loved this tree when we were children. I remember we spent so many afternoons playing on it and around it. He was always a great athlete, and was able to jump up onto its lower branches with the greatest of ease. I always needed his help to climb its trunk, and always ended up with skinned knees and elbows as a result.”

Minerva says nothing, taking a seat by a rock located on the lakeshore near the tree. She pulls a pack of cigarettes, extracting a single stick from the package with her teeth.

“I’d offer you one,” Minerva says, the unlit cigarette wagging between her lips, “but you’re a medical doctor, so I assume you don’t smoke.”

Even as she says so, however, Minerva extends the pack of cigarettes to Artasia, who looks dubiously at the small paper box in Minerva’s outstretched hand for a moment before extracting a single cigarette from the package and inserting it between her lips.

Minerva’s hand extends a lit match, igniting Artasia’s cigarette before returning to light Minerva’s own.

Minerva and Artasia exchange a chuckle; the barrier has fallen. They know they can communicate with each other.

“Char played with me often when I was a child,” Minerva says, looking across the peaceful waters of the lake, “He did help me up to its branches once, but after that first time, he made me learn how to climb it on my own. He made me learn how to do many things on my own. He taught me almost everything I came to know, but mostly he taught me how to survive on my own…without others.”

Artasia looks down towards her feet and whispers, “You loved Casval as much as I did. He was my brother in blood, but he was just as much your brother in spirit.”

“Casval Rem Daikun was your brother,” Minerva points out, “The man whom I knew was Char Aznable...Char the Red Comet.”

Artasia leans back against the trunk of the oak tree, “All of us have become so fractured that none of us truly knows who or what we are anymore. Perhaps the time has come to mend all that has broken. To make ourselves whole again.”

“Spoken like a physician,” Minerva observes wryly, drawing a breath from her cigarette again.

Artasia inhales from her own cigarette, the first time in her life she has ever smoked one, before saying, “We have much in common, Minerva. We’re practically half-sisters. You grew up in exile under the care of Senator Mass and Lady Amelia, just as I did. They renamed me Sayla Mass, just as they renamed you Tina Mass.”

Minerva exhales from her cigarette, shaking her head, “We’re not alike at all. Your father was a martyr, and you are an inspirational leader to billions. You’re a physician who saves lives with her knowledge and skill. I come from a family of mass murderers; I drink too much, smoke too much, I had sex with a man I hardly knew, and I’ve been killing other men since I was twelve years old. I’m a Zabi, Artasia…just like the man who murdered your father years ago. We have as much in common as an angel and a devil do.”

“Good and evil are the consequence of choices,” Artasia says, “not our heritage. You carry in your heart the crushing burden of guilt for all the bloodshed your family has unleashed.”

Minerva turns away from Artasia so that the older woman cannot see the teardrop rolling silently down her cheek.

“I’ll always carry it,” Minerva whispers, “A Zabi deserves no less.”

Artasia approaches Minerva, crouching before the younger woman, taking her shoulders in her hands, “Minerva, I need your help. I need someone to help me reorganize and refocus the ISRLA. It’s beyond my capabilities, but not beyond yours.”

Minerva wipes away the teardrop and turns to face Artasia, saying, “You were a soldier in the Earth Federation Forces in the One Year War, fighting alongside Bright Noah and Amuro Ray on the White Base. Your experiences during that war must have taught you something about conducting warfare.”

Artasia nods, “They did, but I’m not a soldier by disposition, Minerva. I don’t know how to wage war and frankly, I’d rather not wage war at all if I can help it. But I need someone at my side who can. I need you, Minerva. In the past, I relied on Kai Shiden to direct the ISRLA, but Kai gave his life for our cause, and with all due respect to his memory, he wasn’t the military genius that you are, Minerva. That too is a legacy of your heritage, Minerva, if you want to look at it that way.”

Minerva looks at Artasia with a penetrating gaze, and says, “You know what you’re asking, don’t you? A Daikun and a Zabi leading a Contolist rebellion against the Earth Federation. This is how it all started, Artasia. Are you planning on repeating history?”

“Not repeat it,” Artasia says, “Rewrite it. Minerva, you and I can correct the mistakes that our forefathers made. We can make the dream of Spacenoid liberation come true. We, the women, can succeed where the men failed. We can bring peace to Earth and to the universe. If you want redemption for your family’s past, Minerva, this is your chance. Will you take it with me?”

Artasia extends her hand to Minerva with an earnest and benign smile.

Slowly, somewhat hesitantly, Minerva extends her one good hand to Artasia. The two young women finally clasp their hands together tightly in a gesture of unity.

“Welcome to the ISR movement, Minerva,” Artasia says warmly.

“That’s an unwieldy name,” Minerva says, “and it projects an impersonal, menacing aura. ISRLA is no name suitable for what’s conceived as a Spacenoid paradise, Artasia.”

“I’ve given that some thought myself,” Artasia confesses, “but we really can’t go back to calling ourselves the ‘Republic of Zeon.’ The name of ‘Zeon’ is no less toxic than the name of ‘Zabi,’ Minerva.”

Minerva smiles, “Why not call it the Shambala Republic?”

Artasia’s expression brightens with delight, “The mystical ‘Pure Land’ of Buddhist faith?”

Minerva nods, “A place of peace, tranquility, and happiness…a place where people’s hearts and minds are truly free, unhindered, unburdened, and true justice prevails.”

“Shambala Republic,” Artasia intones, “It sounds so right.”

Wash away my troubles, wash away my pain
With the rain in Shambala

Wash away my sorrow, wash away my shame
With the rain in Shambala

How does your light shine, in the halls of Shambala?


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But the old regime, and its old ways, is not ready to yield its dark dominance.

The attention of the entire world is drawn to Zum City, the capital of Zeon, where Archduke Alexander Miguel formally reinstates the Archduchy of Zeon at Side 3 in an elaborate ceremony that does not lack for pomp and pageantry. Zum City, for over a decade a Federation-occupied No Man’s Land, has been restored to the opulent glory befitting its as the capital of a mighty empire.

The sides of the main thoroughfare of Zum City, Degin Boulevard, are lined with throngs of people. Tens of thousands have jammed the streets to gain a glimpse of the Archduke as he prepares to take his crown and assume leadership of the new Archduchy of Zeon.

Archduke Alexander Miguel, flanked by his generals and by ranking officers of the Earth Federation Forces (now, in the ultimate stroke of irony, greeted as friends by the citizens of Zeon), strides proudly towards his new residence at Zum Palace. At his side, holding his hand, is Major Kyoko Yamaguchi of the Archduchy of Zeon’s Black Raven Battalion, and it has been rumored, soon to be the Archduchess of Zeon.

Archduke Miguel takes to the podium in front of Zum Palace to the deafening applause of tens of thousands of hands. It was at the very spot that Miguel stands that Zeon Daikun once first declared the independence of the Republic of Zeon, and where Degin Zabi later declared the establishment of the first Archduchy of Zeon.

Miguel raises his hand regally, bringing the masses to attentive silence.

Miguel speaks, “My people, Eternal Zeon rises again!”

The response comes in waves that literally shake the mighty stone edifice behind Miguel, “Sieg, Zeon! Sieg, Zeon! Sieg, Zeon!”

A document protected in a gold titanium codex is presented to Miguel, which he signs with a golden pen. The document is also signed by President Gloria Brenner of the Earth Federation Government, with General Manron Blackhead of the Earth Federation Forces looking proudly on.

Miguel raises the Second Century Accords above his head triumphantly for his people to see, “My people…peace for our people…FOREVER!”

Side 3, Sieg, Zeon!

Sides 1, 2, 4, and 5, Sieg, Zeon!

The Mars Zone, the Asteroid Belt, and the Jupiter Zone, Sieg Zeon!

Across the lunar surface, Sieg Zeon!

On Earth’s cool blue seas and green forests, Sieg Zeon!

“Sieg, Zeon! Sieg, Zeon! Sieg, Zeon!”

Outside Zum City, in the space between the colonies of Side 3, the ships of the new Armada of Zeon, consolidating the remaining forces of the former Phobos Zeon and Zeon Confederation Forces, mass and swarm...hundreds of capital warships and thousands of mobile suits. The greatest concentration of Zeon military might since the One Year War.

Poised to serve the needs of Archduke Alexander Miguel and the Zeon Empire.

To be continued in Episode 30

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 30: WAR GAMES

“Try picking these items up, one at a time,” Dr. Artasia Daikun tells Minerva Zabi, “using your left hand.”

Minerva reaches out tentatively with her new cybernetic left hand, picking up a small wooden cube from the foldable table placed on her bed. The metallic fingers find purchase around the wooden cube and, to Minerva’s surprise, there is sensation…she actually feels the texture of the wooden cube through the sensor diodes built into the cybernetic prosthesis.

Two days earlier, Artasia had performed a ten-hour surgical procedure on Minerva that replaced the latter’s lost left arm and hand with a new, state-of-the-art cybernetic replacement limb. The cybernetic limb is designed to mimic, as closely as possible, the full range of motion and sensation provided by an organic limb. As Minerva fingers the cube around her new hand, she is pleasantly surprised by how dexterous it is…perceptively not much different from the hand she lost in its ability to lift and hold objects.

Minerva sets down the wooden cube and picks up and handles, in turn, a rubber ball, a paper cup, a pencil, and a piece of string. Artasia instructs Minerva to tie the string into a bow using both hands. At first, coordinating that delicate motion presents Minerva with a slight challenge, but after a minute, she makes the adjustment and succeeds in tying the bow.

Artasia smiles and nods with approval, “Very good. You’re adjusting to the prosthetic very well, Minerva.”

Minerva picks up the wooden block again and, as an experiment, squeezes it as hard as she can. The block crumbles into dozens of splinters.

“Your new hand and arm are much stronger than the one you lost,” Artasia says, “It can apply 100 kilograms of mass per square centimeter, and it’s easily capable of lifting weights up to 500 kilograms…”

“But you don’t recommend it because even though the prosthesis can handle that weight, the tissues in my neck, back, and legs can’t, right?” Minerva completes.

Artasia laughs lightly, “Casval always did say how smart you are…which is why I’ve appointed you the IS…, sorry, the Shambala Republic movement’s new Director of Operations, Minerva Essentially, you’ll be taking on the movement’s executive role; my role is more that of a figurehead.”

“You’re the movement’s inspirational leader,” Minerva says, “Without you, the movement doesn’t exist at all. Don’t sell yourself short, Artasia.”

“Just being realistic,” Artasia replies with a smile, “I’m a doctor, Minerva; I’m not a politician or military leader.”

Minerva smiles wryly, “I’ve heard that before. It’s possible to be both: Sun Yat-sen of China was a physician before he became a revolutionary.”

“So were Che Guevara of Argentina,” Artasia points out, “and Jean-Paul Marat of France.”

“Just play your role as Sun,” Minerva says darkly, “I’ll handle the Guevara/Marat end of the business. Just like Daddy and Granddaddy, hmm?”

The two young women laugh bitterly.

Minerva gazes at her powerful new left arm. Aesthetically, it’s a mixed package. The sleek contour of its design mimics the delicate, pleasantly feminine form of her original, organic limb…right down to the shape of the long, slender fingers, but its skinless, metallic gray external shell leaves no doubt that the limb is an artificial mechanism.

Guess I’ll have to get used to wearing a glove, Minerva concludes.

“What about Hathaway?” Minerva inquires.

Artasia replies, “I’m appointing him Director of Information and Intelligence – Kai’s old position. I think he’s up to it.”

As if on cue, Hathaway Noah appears in Minerva’s bedroom, clutching a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in one hand and a tiny, wrapped package in the other.

“How’s my favorite amputee?” Hathaway jokes, sitting on Minerva’s bed and handing her the bouquet of flowers.

Minerva accepts the bouquet in her cybernetic left hand, “Armless no more. Artasia tells me this new arm of mine packs the wallop of a mule kick, so don’t tick me off, Hathaway.”

“I value my life too much for that,” Hathaway says, handing Minerva the tiny box, “You’ll like these.”

“Thank you,” Minerva says, setting aside the bouquet of flowers and testing her new hand by using it to undo the wrapping on the package. Within a small flat box is a pair of feminine black leather gloves.

“Real Italian leather,” Hathaway says, “They don’t sell the cheap imitation stuff here in Switzerland. That cost quite a few ducats, but fortunately, you girls are rich.”

That prompts the conversation to turn in another direction, as Artasia says, “The Shambala Republic movement has been operating, thus far, on the funds from my late father’s remaining estate and what we could recover from the old Republic of Zeon’s treasury before the Archduchy of Zeon took over. Minerva has also provided us access to the Zabi Family’s fortune, but even the combined Daikun and Zabi family fortunes aren’t enough to fund a revolution.”

”No, they aren’t,” Minerva agrees, “which is why I’ve scheduled a meeting with the heads of Unibank, Luo, Anaheim, and Kuromizu at Side 6 later this week. If the Shambala Republic is going to evolve from idealistic concept to reality, it’s going to need powerful, corporate financial backing.”

“This week?” Hathaway says, concerned, “Shouldn’t you spend a little more time resting and recovering? You were shot, Minerva…and you lost an arm.”

“And got a stronger one back,” Minerva says, “I’m not going to get any better just sitting around in bed. I have to get back to work…the future won’t wait for any of us. We have to run after it and seize it.”

So saying, Minerva dons one of the two gloves in the package – the left glove.

Not bad, Minerva concludes, rather liking the effect.

Alexander Miguel is going to pay for the arm I lost, Minerva resolves, and for so much else…


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In the space near Side 7, the White Phoenix Gundam uses its massive power to hollow out a large, drifting asteroid.

A phoenix busily constructing its own hidden nest.

After a half day’s labor, the WPG has cleared out a hollow lair within the asteroid, which drifts lazily in an orbit synchronous with that of Side 7’s, whose zone border lies mere kilometers away.

Jolie Minh settles the White Phoenix Gundam into the asteroid and deploys harpoon chains in the mecha’s shoulder and legs to secure it within the hollowed core.

“Mecha secure,” Captain Jonah Michaels calls from the engineering station behind and slightly above her, “Now powering down.”

“Roger,” Jolie acknowledges, “Shut down sequence initiated.”

The computer guidance system of the WPG logs off as mobile suit’s mighty nuclear fusion engine powers down.

“It’ll be safe here,” Jolie remarks, “Sort of, I mean.”

“Maintenance will be an issue,” Jonah says, “It’s not as if we can just fly Molly and her team, with all their equipment, out here every day.”

“We’ll just have to maintain her ourselves for now,” Jolie says, prepping her normalsuit for EV flight, “It’s only temporary, anyway.”

“Until we can get you reinstated in the Federal Forces,” Jonah completes the thought, “We don’t know when that’s going to go through, though. It could take anything from days to months to never depending on how things work out.”

“Can’t worry about that now,” Jolie says, “the important thing is that I’m here and I’ll help you guys when you need me.”

“Right,” Jonah says, smiling, glad to have Jolie at his side again despite the circumstances.

A small personal shuttlecraft approaches, piloted by 2Lt. Chieming Noah of the Centurion Team.

“Chibi to JoMi, JoMi,” Chieming’s voice comes through Jolie and Jonah’s helmet receivers, “You guys done?”

“Roger,” Jonah replies, “Come pick us up, Chibi.”

Jolie and Jonah float forward from the cockpit of the WPG. After Jolie seals the mobile suit and activates its security systems, the couple uses the vernier rockets in their normalsuits to fly towards Chieming’s waiting shuttlecraft.

Jolie and Jonah board the single passenger seat behind Chieming, Jolie settling herself in Jonah’s lap.

“I heard from Hathaway and Minerva on Earth,” Chieming tells the pair, “they’ll be headed back to space soon to begin organizing the Spacenoid resistance against Alexander Miguel’s new Zeon regime.”

Jolie and Jonah receive that news well, but then Jonah brings up an issue that has been in the back of their minds for the past day or two, “Jolie, just what do you have in mind for a place to stay at Side 7? There’s no way you’d be able to hide out for long on the base.”

Jolie grins, “Who said anything about the base, silly? I grew up on the streets, remember? I’ve got a plan.”


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Thirty minutes after Chieming lands her shuttle in a seldom-used access port of Side 7’s Green Oasis 1 Colony, home of Garrison Noah, Jolie reveals her solution to Jonah and Chieming.

“When these colonies were built, there were lots of facilities built for the construction workers to use,” Jolie explains, leading them through long-abandoned service corridor in the bowels of the colony, “the workers would bunk in these facilities, but they haven’t been much used since then. They’re still around. Nobody has serviced them for years, but they’re around ready to be used.”

Jolie hotwires an electronic lock system to gain access to a small cubbyhole in which there is a cot, a small sink, and a latrine.

“Home sweet home,” Jolie says, indicating the space, “at least for now.”

“It’s more like a prison cell,” Chieming remarks.

“That works, because I am a criminal, after all,” Jolie says archly, “I can get the plumbing working again; it’s no worse than back at Industria Colony.”

Jonah puts an arm lovingly around Jolie’s waist and kisses her, “We’ll do everything we can to get you back into the Centurion Team as fast as we can.”

Jolie leans against Jonah, “In the meantime, we’ll keep in touch using Datapads. I’ll be just a call or message away.”

“That’s better than halfway across the Solar System,” Jonah concedes, “We’ll get you food and other stuff you need.”

“Sound like a plan,” Jolie replies, “This is one hell of a way to start a counterattack, huh?”

Jolie’s Datapad begins trilling, and she responds to it, “Jolie here.”

“Jolie,” Minerva’s voice comes through the Datapad.

“’Thena!” Jolie’s eyes widen with delight.

Jonah and Chieming look at the monitor of Jolie’s Datapad to see the former commanding officer of the Centurion Team, looking healthy and strong once again.

And once again, she has two arms.

Jolie can hardly contain her joy at the sight, “Good to see you’re not a cripple anymore, ‘Thena!”

Minerva smiles at Jolie’s politically incorrect, but nevertheless accurate observation, “So am I…and what’s better is that with this new arm, I could possibly thrash even your rear end in hand-to-hand combat.”

Jolie decides that’s something they should test out some other day, then asks, “So where do we go from here, ‘Thena?”

Minerva says, “Dr. Daikun and I are going to line up some financial and material support for the Shambala Republic movement…”

“The Sham…what?” Jolie asks quizzically.

“Shambala Republic,” Minerva reiterates, “that’s the new designation for what we used to call the ISR. It’s going to be a new nation, Jolie, not a loosely knit, ill-defined revolutionary movement.”

“If anybody can make that work right, it’d be you, ‘Thena,” Jolie says, “but what do we do now?”

In response to that question, Minerva says, “Jonah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jonah responds, unable to shake old habits despite the fact that Minerva is no longer his superior officer.

Minerva says gravely, “Hathaway’s intelligence sources tell me that your brother is planning a joint exercise…war games, apparently, with the Federal Forces in about ten days from now, in the area between the Side 7 Zone and Luna 2. You might or might not receive orders from the High Command to deploy, but you should be on high alert regardless. I suspect that the Archduke will make his opening move there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jonah replies, “We’ve got the White Phoenix Gundam embedded like you instructed, and Jolie’s ready to go at any time.”

“Good,” Minerva nods, pleased that her former subordinates are proving capable at handling matters without her direct guidance, “Jonah: you’re in charge of the Centurion Team now. I have my own matters to attend to as Director of Operations for the Shambala Republic. Take good care of your comrades.”

“I will, ma’am,” Jonah says.

“Right,” Minerva answers, “I’ll be in contact from time to time. Good luck to all of you.”

“Good luck,” comes the chorus of responses from the Centurions past, present, and… future.

Episode 30 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 30 continued...

The rearmament of the Archduchy of Zeon Forces is proceeding according to schedule, ahead of schedule, really, as Archduke Alexander Miguel has long planned. Wartime production of combat mecha and warships reached a new peak during the months of the Zeon Civil War, and with the Earth Federation’s material support, the Archduchy of Zeon Forces are now five times larger, five times more potent than the former Principality of Phobos Zeon had been a year earlier. This is because many of the surrendered former Zeon Confederation Forces that had once served the Archduke’s rival warlords have now pledged their fealty to Archduke Miguel and the new Archduchy of Zeon.

The remaining threat to the Earth Federation and the Archduchy of Zeon is the ISR movement, which, according to the latest intelligence from ZIB, is currently regrouping under the fanciful name of the “Shambala Republic.” Whatever it calls itself, the ISR movement is a nuisance that must be eliminated before it can grow into a real threat.

That subject is now at the center of discussions between Archduke Alexander Miguel, accompanied by his adjutant General Ross Davenport, and General Manron Blackhead of the Earth Federation Forces.

“ISRLA activity remains heavy not only at Side 3, but also at Sides 6, 2, 1, and 4, to say nothing of the Lunar Cities,” General Blackhead says, “it wouldn’t even surprise me that we’ve got some ISRLA sympathizers at Side 7…not after learning that Athena Ibaz was actually Minerva Zabi all along.”

“They also have a substantial cache of weapons that were intended to be used against them,” Archduke Miguel reminds General Blackhead, “and which are still at large. Have your personnel had any luck in locating them, General Blackhead?”

“No,” Blackhead admits embarrassedly, “but rest assured that we are diligently pursuing…”

The Archduke curtly cuts Blackhead off, “Please don’t bother any further, General. Since the weaponry in question was transferred, however abortively, to the Archduchy of Zeon, then it will be a matter for the Archduchy of Zeon to resolve. Your Federal Forces have more important priorities…such as the war games scheduled with our forces on sixth of next month.”

Blackhead, feeling affronted by Miguel’s dismissive demeanor, replies darkly, “Our forces are preparing to host the Archduchy’s best as scheduled in the Luna 2/Side 7 Zone, your highness. We can certainly handle both tasks.”

“No,” Miguel replies with quiet, but unyielding authority, “The Federation had its chance, but it’s out of the Federation’s hands now. This is a Zeon matter. I hope, General, that the Federation will respect that.”

“Of course, your highness,” Blackhead replies with uncharacteristic meekness.

Knowing that he has Blackhead, indeed the entire Earth Federation, right where he wants them, Miguel smiles at the Federal Forces’ highest-ranking active officer, “The joint exercise between our forces will mark the dawn of a new era in the relationship between our Archduchy and your Federation, General. Earlier this week, I spoke at length with President Brenner about the shared future of our two states, and I am sanguine about what the new century holds for us both.”

“Indeed, your highness.” Blackhead says, not sure of what to say next, still stinging over Miguel’s insolence.

Miguel lifts his hand casually to signal General Davenport, who rises in response, “Ross, please see General Blackhead out.”

“Yes, my lord,” Davenport replies faithfully, then to Blackhead, “General, this way, if you please.”

Sensing that he is being bum-rushed out of the regal presence, Blackhead departs in a huff.

Blackhead’s boorish presence is soon replaced by one that Miguel finds a universe more pleasant.

“Kyoko,” Miguel smiles at his Black Raven.

“My lord,” Major Kyoko Yamaguchi salutes the Archduke of Zeon.

Alexander wraps his arm around Kyoko’s waist, pulling her into his lap, dispensing with all pretense of protocol or formality.

Alexander holds Kyoko’s warm, light form close and whispers into her ear, “The next phase of our plans begins soon. I trust that you’re ready.”

“I am, my lord,” Kyoko replies softly, leaning her head gently upon his chest, “I am prepared to give my life for you and for the glory of Zeon.”

“No,” Miguel corrects gently, “Your life is of great personal value to me, Kyoko, and I do not want for you to discard it recklessly. Your skill is far greater than any other mobile suit pilot, Zeon or Earth Federation. You will prevail against all others.”

“My lord, I…” Kyoko begins.

She does not finish, her lips sealed by the Archduke’s passionate kiss.


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Several days later, an unpublicized meeting is called at the Hotel D’Savoy at Side 6’s Colony Beauvais. The quiet nature of the conference is unusual in that its attendees include some of the most prominent names in the universal financial and industrial sectors, including executives from the Unibank Corporation, the Universal Media Corporation, Anaheim Enterprises, the Luo Corporation, Kuromizu Industries, the heads of labor unions from Side 1 to the Jupitorius Colonies, and not just a few of major crime syndicate leaders wanted by Earth Federation and Archduchy of Zeon law enforcement authorities alike…

Not much is known about this gathering, not even by officials of the Hotel D’Savoy that is hosting it. It is a quiet, guarded affair, officially known only to be a “business conference” of some sort, to be convened for several days under extreme security. Hospitality management knows better than to ask too many questions.

Dr. Artasia Daikun, Principal Director of the newly renamed Shambala Republic (formerly the Independent Spacenoid Republic) movement, presents her new Executive Director of Operations to the corporate, finance, trade, labor, and black market leaders.

“Gentlemen, Miss Minerva Zabi.”

A collective gasp fills the room. Eyes widen in disbelief. Some are unable to remain in their seats, rising in their shock. Heads shake. Faces are rubbed. Soon there are murmurs.

Mallon E.H. Carbine, longtime Chairman of the Board of Anaheim Enterprises, asks Artasia, “Dr. Daikun…is this young woman truly Minerva Zabi, the Duchess of Zeon?”

Artasia turns to Minerva, giving the younger woman the authorization to speak with a slight nod of the head.

Minerva says clearly, confidently, “Yes, Mr. Chairman. I am Minerva Zabi. Dozle Zabi was my father, and Degin Zabi, my grandfather.”

The murmurs rise to a small roar upon the revelation of Minerva’s identity.

“You were supposed to be dead!”

“How did you survive?!”

“Are you really Minerva Zabi of Zeon?!”

“…answer for your family’s crimes!”

Dr. Artasia Daikun rises, and silences the room with a gesture of her hand, “Miss Zabi is now a member of my staff. I recruited her because she shares our ideals, and because she has the acumen to be of great value to our cause. Like myself, and like many of you, she is committed to correcting many mistakes of the past.”

Vice-President Roger Davis, CFO of the Luo Corporation, says, “I’ve met you before, haven’t I? At a party in Shanghai over a year ago. You came with Dean James, the Cislunar Free Media writer. You called yourself…”

“Tina Mass,” Minerva confirms, “For years, until recently, I was also Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of the Earth Federation Special Forces.”

“We’d heard that Athena Ibaz had perished in the incident near Side 7 last month,” remarks Carbine, “when the ISR disrupted some sort of cargo exchange.”

“You know full well what exchange involved, Carbine,” remarks Commissioner Salvador de la Cruz of the Side 6 Trade Union, “I wonder how much Anaheim grossed in that little transaction!”

“It’s a mistake to bring a Zabi into the discussion,” interjects Burt Oldman, leader of the Colonial Starshoremen’s Labor Union, “the blood of billions are on their hands!”

“You should talk of blood being on anyone’s hands, Oldman,” remarks President Derek Masters of the Kuromizu Corporation, “You can’t have forgotten the bedlam your people created at our docks at Frontier 8 back in 0095.”

“Because you fat cats wouldn’t pay for services,” Oldman bites out in response, “and for the abusive…”

“Gentlemen,” Minerva says commandingly, cutting through the argument, her eyes fiery, “We are not here to reassess the past, but to prepare for the future.”

All eyes turn expectantly to the former Duchess of Zeon.

Minerva speaks to them again, “You see me, and you see the horror of the Archduchy of Zeon and its brand of nationalism, imperialism, and militarism. Now the Archduchy of Zeon rises again under the leadership of Alexander Miguel. Some of you are undoubtedly delighted by that prospect...”

Minerva turns an eye towards Chairman Mallon E.H. Carbine of Anaheim Enterprises, and adds, “…a new Archduchy of Zeon means more war, and more war means more war profiteering. What could be more stimulating to the universal economy and the military industrial complex, as Eisenhower called it centuries ago, than war?”

“What are you insinuating, your highness?” Carbine retorts nastily.

“Mr. Carbine,” Minerva says evenly, “Anaheim Enterprises researches, develops, manufactures, and markets mobile weapon systems to the Earth Federation, the Archduchy of Zeon, and even to private militia groups. Everyone knows this. The use of your company’s products in war can only drive supply down and demand up – which is very helpful to Anaheim’s profit margins. A very simple business model, no doubt.”

Carbine is silent, and then finds his voice to say, “And what if it is?”

Minerva raps the fingers of her metallic hand upon the table for a moment before pointing the cybernetic appendage’s index finger at Carbine and saying, “What if the paradigm of that model were to shift? What if the balance of power that Anaheim has prospered within all this time…were to cease to be a balance?”

The various industrial, trade, and finance leaders look at one another nervously. They begin to understand what Minerva is driving towards.

“Our facilities at Side 3 have been nationalized during the past month,” confesses Derek Masters, “All our assets at Side 3 and in the Outer System colonies have been seized by the Archduchy of Zeon. We’ve essentially lost forty percent of our corporate infrastructure during the last forty-five days.”

“Miguel will not stop there,” Minerva says, “His next move is to eliminate the Earth Federation Forces, and he as the means to accomplish that goal. A world dominated by the Archduchy of Zeon is at hand. Are you prepared to thrive in it?”

The ensuing silence indicates a negative response.

“What’s the alternative?” Carbine says at last.

Minerva offers the barest hint of a smile, “For all of you to prosper, a balance of power must continue to exist. Alexander Miguel wants no part of such a balance. He seeks his own domination at the cost of everyone else, all of you included. Surely, none of you believe that a megalomaniac such as Miguel would continue to allow you to operate freely. You can, however, become important players in establishing a new status quo…one in which the balance will exist between the Earth Federation…and the Shambala Republic.”

The financial and industrial movers and shakers of the Second Universal Century discuss the implications of Minerva’s proposal among themselves for a moment before Carbine, the unofficial spokesman for the group, voices one of their foremost concerns, “What do you want from us?”

Minerva says plainly, “Your full logistical and financial support…to eradicate Zeon and to build new infrastructure for establishing the Shambala Republic as the new vanguard of Contolism.”

“What assurance do we have that you won’t be the same as Miguel,” Carbine challenges, “or for that matter, your Zabi Family forebears?”

Artasia steps in, “Chairman Carbine. Degin Zabi murdered my father and usurped his dream. If anyone should distrust and hate the Zabis in this room, it would be me. And yet…I trust Minerva entirely. I’ve entrusted her with my own dream, which I inherited from my father. This is an opportunity to right a wrong that changed all of our lives forever, to set the Contolist dream back on its proper course…the one my father meant to direct before the Zabis murdered him. To accomplish that, I am willing to trust a Zabi. Are you willing to do the same?”

Carbine and the others discuss it for a moment, and then Carbine replies gravely, “I’m sorry, but we need to consider it more in depth. We’ll be in touch.”

So saying, the cabal of powerful corporate and industrial leaders files out of the conference room, leaving Minerva and Artasia alone.

Artasia looks discouraged by the response, but she notes Minerva smirking confidently at her place at the conference table.

“Minerva,” Artasia says, “What do you think? Do you believe they’ll support us?”

“I don’t know for certain,” Minerva says with eerie serenity, “that’s out of our hands now. We’ve made our pitch. Now it’s up to Alexander Miguel.”

“Miguel?” Artasia responds quizzically, unable to comprehend the import of Minerva’s words.

Minerva smiles enigmatically and says, “I’m sure the Archduke won’t let us down.”


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Captain Jonah Michaels floats towards decommissioned service hub MP1179 in the Green Noah Space Colony, now the temporary residence of Jolie Minh. “Residence” really isn’t the word…more like crawlspace.

Jonah carries two paper bags (truly a luxury item up in the space colonies), each loaded with identical contents: a Triple Double Cheeseburger, Large Fries, and a Large Coca-Cola, all from the Last Enter/Exit Burger Stand.

Jolie, perhaps smelling the delicious scent of the fast food, pokes her head and shoulders out of the tiny crawlspace, “Well, finally! Thought you were going to leave me to starve here!”

“I wouldn’t do that my wife,” Jonah remarks to Jolie with a smile, “I’m not the abusive spouse type.”

“We aren’t married yet, silly,” Jolie says, biting into the cheeseburger.

“You aren’t thinking about backing out on me, are you?” Jonah teases.

“Hell, no,” Jolie replies, sipping from the Coke, “I plan on riding you until we both drop dead.”

Jonah sits down crosslegged outside Jolie’s crawlspace, and Jolie mirrors his actions. The two continue to work away at their fast food dinner in silence for a few minutes until Jonah says, “The Zeon and the Federation are conducting joint exercises…some sort of war games, between Side 7 and Luna 2 next week. So far, the Special Forces haven’t received orders from the High Command to participate.”

“That’s weird,” Jolie remarks between french fries, “you’d think the Special Forces would be right in the thick of something like that.”

“I think it’s Alexander’s doing,” Jonah remarks, somewhat nervous about bringing up the subject of his brother with Jolie, “He’s got something big planned, and he wants to keep me out of it.”

“Which means we have to be right in the middle of it,” Jolie says, sipping from the Coke again, “Your brother is crazy enough to actually attack the Federation at Side 7 and Luna 2, you know?”

“If that’s the case,” Jonah replies, “then we’ve got to warn General Blackhead and the High Command!”

Jolie shakes her head, biting from the burger again, “They’re not gonna listen to you, Jo-Boy. Blackhead and his flunkies have their heads too far up their asses. They totally think your brother is the shit, and they’re gonna let him stab them in the back!”

“You’re probably right,” Jonah says, “I wish Athena were here. She’d know what to do.”

Jolie finishes the burger, pours the remaining fries down her gullet, and says between chews, “We’re gonna need to be ready to move quick if something happens.”

“The Zeon Forces have an ace pilot called the ‘Black Raven,’” Jonah says, “She’s just as good as you are, Jolie. It’s freaky: she even looks identical to you.”

Jolie replies, “I’ve heard about her. She’s not me, and she isn’t as good as I am. I can beat her. I know I can.”

So saying, Jolie takes Jonah’s unfinished french fries and begins polishing them off as well.

Jonah looks at Jolie in disbelief; how could that tiny body absorb all that greasy fat and still look so gorgeously svelte?

“Not if you keep eating like that. Pretty soon, you’re not going to be able to crawl out of that cubbyhole of yours,” Jonah says with a laugh.

“Nah, don’t worry,” Jolie says, washing it all down with a gulp of Coke, “I’ll just sh*t it all out, remember? Probably won’t be able to sit down for a while after that, though…”

The couple laughs, remembering those first days after they met.

Jonah places his face close to Jolie’s, staring into her eyes, “My God, you’re so pretty.”

Jolie attempts to bite Jonah’s nose.

“And fierce too,” he remarks wryly.

“You ever wonder why you fell in love with me?” Jolie asks.

Jonah nods, saying, “I finally figured it out: it’s because you have enough ‘fierce’ in you for both of us!”

Jolie and Jonah kiss. For a while, the world disappears around them, and the crawlspace is as large as the entire universe.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Minerva enters the private suite in which she has temporarily resided at the Hotel D’Savoy at Side 6.

Minerva has lived a life on the run practically since she was born. As an infant, she was forced to fleet to Axis Fortress with what remained of the Zabi regime in the final days of the One Year War. Eight years later, she returned to the Earth Sphere as the puppet ruler of the Neo Zeons of Axis and was exploited for Lady Haman Karn’s ambitions. From there, Char Aznable liberated Minerva and brought her to Switzerland, laying the foundations for her to become Athena Ibaz. Now, Minerva finds herself on the run again…running from colony to colony to line up support for the Shambala Republic.

I probably won’t stop running until I’m dead, Minerva reflects morbidly.

Minerva flops tiredly onto the bed, closing her eyes.

A pair of gentle, warm, comforting hands begin to knead her shoulders and neck, relieving much of the tension.

Minerva opens her eyes to look upon the handsome, smiling face of Hathaway Noah.

Minerva smiles tiredly, “I must be dead already. I’m seeing angels.”

Hathaway rubs his beloved’s shoulders gently, “I thought you were convinced you were going to Hell.”

“Hell would be worth it for this,” Minerva remarks, “How’d you make out with the media big shots?”

“I’ve got most of them on board in principle,” Hathaway says, “It didn’t take much convincing on my part to get them to sign on. They’re all fervently anti-Zeon, and only slightly less anti-Federation.”

Minerva smiles wanly, “That isn’t surprising.”

“How about your meeting with the corporate heads and the trade leaders?” Hathaway asks, “Do we have funding for this revolution of ours, or don’t we?”

“Not yet,” Minerva replies, stretching her long, willowy arms and legs, “you don’t plant a seed…and expect to harvest on the same day.”

“You look tired,” Hathaway observes worriedly.

“I am tired,” Minerva concedes, “but the revolution must go on. Just let me sleep for an hour or two. I’ll…be all right.”

Hathaway lies down next to Minerva, taking her gently into his arms, stroking her fine, honey-blonde hair. He kisses her adoringly on her silky-smooth cheek before they fall asleep in each other’s arms, for a while.

A calm before storm.

Episode 30 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 30 continued...

August 6, U.C. 0100, the zone of Federation space between its strategic central hub in Cislunar orbit, Luna 2, and its central space garrison at Side 7.

Something unprecedented is happening in this zone of space today…something that, had it happened some twenty-one years ago, would have constituted the citizens of the Earth Federation’s worst nightmare.

By day’s end, the nightmare would be real.

The pride of the new Archduchy of Zeon Space Armada…hundreds of warships, thousands of mobile suits, enter the Luna 2/Side 7 Zone in parade formation. A spectacular display of renewed Zeon military power that is now being transmitted live across the humanity-occupied cosmos.

Meeting them is an equally large representative force of the Earth Federation Forces’ finest, somewhat battered, from the recent struggle against the Zeon Confederation Forces, but still formidable.

As this is merely a joint training exercise…a war game, both sides have agreed to deploy only tracer armaments…duds, unable to do significant damage.

Archduke Miguel commands the Zeon Armada from the bridge of his flagship Cassius. Across an expanse of dozens of kilometers, General Blackhead does the same for the Earth Federation Forces from the flagship General Reville.

“Allied salute,” General Blackhead orders.

The Earth Federation Armada opens fire with its guns…harmless tracer units filling the sky with brilliant light to honor its guests and sparring partner.

Aboard the Cassius, Archduke Miguel watches the fanfare with suppressed amusement, “Return…salute.”

“Yes, my lord,” the techs reply in compliance.

Zeon guns swivel towards the Earth Federation Armada…by the dozens, by the hundreds.

Light erupts forth.

But this is not harmless, colored ceremonial light.

Streams of Minovsky particles rip forth in massive volleys, rending Earth Federation armor to shreds.

The General Reville is stricken, and begins to burn where onboard oxygen seeps out.

The sheer force of the opening salvo knocks General Blackhead off his feet to the deck. Blood runs down the General’s face from a large gash opened on his left temple, just above his eye.

“What the devil happened?!” Blackhead demands, slowly rising to his feet, “Report!”

“Sir,” a tech reports from his station, “We’re under attack!”

“Under attack?!” Blackhead says in disbelief, “Who…?”

“The Zeon Armada, sir,” the tech replies tersely.

“Archduke Miguel is hailing us from the Cassius, General,” another tech interjects.

“Put him on the video panel!” Blackhead orders.

The sinisterly suave image of Archduke Alexander Miguel appears on the video panel.

“Your highness!” Blackhead begins, “What’s going on?! What is the meaning of this?!”

“War games,” Miguel replies coldly, “The games continue, General Manron Blackhead, and this is a game that I determined from the beginning that you and your Federation would lose.”

Archduke Miguel rapidly cuts off the communication feed. Another massive volley slams into the General Reville, filling its bridge with light, shrapnel, and screams…


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Mere minutes later, the Centurion Team and other Special Forces units rush towards their mobile suits for an emergency scramble. No one is quite sure what is going on, but the prevailing rumor is that the Zeon Armada has inexplicably fired on the Federation Armada with live ammunition, in apparent violation of the Second Century Accords.

A Special Forces Team prepares to deploy from Garrison Noah, only to be met with a squadron of Zeon mobile suits. The Zeon Forces take advantage of their adversaries’ momentary shock to get in the first strike.

The Federation Special Forces squadron is systematically eliminated. Dozens of Zeon mobile suits rush into Side 7 and begin laying waste to Garrison Noah.

“Emergency! Emergency! Deploy all available units!”

“Heavy damage reported in…!”

“Enemy intrusion in Sector Block B-13!”

“We’ve got incoming…”

At Luna 2, it is much the same scene, as squadrons from the Zeon Armada open fire on the unprepared Federation stronghold, pummeling the fortress with a punishing volume of firepower, gutting the unsuspecting and unprepared Federal Forces.

From his command seat on the Cassius, Archduke Miguel watches it with dispassionate satisfaction.

Jonah and the Centurion Team have succeeded in reaching their mobile suits, and are desperately attempting to repel the Zeon attack on Garrison Noah.

Jonah flips open his personal Datapad to a civilian frequency, managing to grunt out, “Jolie…!”

Jolie replies immediately, “Hang in there, Jonah! I’m on my way!”

Jolie, having donned her normalsuit at the first indication of trouble, is already en rout to the hollowed asteroid that conceals her White Phoenix Gundam. Within moments, she is aboard the mighty prototype mobile suit.

“Combat systems online,” the synthesized voice of the WPG’s combat computer announces, “Engine output at 87% and climbing.”

Jolie steels herself, and prepares to deploy, “Jolie Minh, White Phoenix Gundam, deploying now!”

The White Phoenix has returned to the battlefield.

To be continued in Episode 31!

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 31: SIEG, ZEON

“Fall back! Fall back!” Captain Jonah Michaels, commanding officer of the Centurion Special Operations Team, calls out desperately to his allies.

They try…space battleships, transatmospheric fighter planes, mobile suits, all desperately struggling to escape from the inferno that was Side 7’s Garrison Noah, the heart and central nerve center of the Earth Federation Space Forces.

But the Federal Forces are being systematically routed, with alarming ease, by the advancing Archduchy of Zeon Forces. Federation resistance, such as it is, crumbles like a sandcastle in the wake of a tsunami. To describe the situation as a “massacre” would obscenely dilute the import of the term. The Earth Federation Forces began the day with a slight numerical superiority in combat units to their former Zeon allies-suddenly-reverted-to-adversaries, but that superiority was quickly whittled away by a blitzkrieg attack that has been as devastatingly thorough as it was utterly unexpected.

Shock and awe…a simple doctrine of military domination first practiced during the Twentieth Century of the old Gregorian calendar, and greatly magnified in this era of space warfare.

This is not the first time that Zeon military forces have succeeded in breaching Side 7. During the One Year’s War, an assault on the colony by a Zeon fleet commanded by Major Char Aznable to reconnoiter and possibly disrupt the development of the Earth Federation’s V-Project was, historians have concluded, the turning point of the war. Momentous as it was, that assault was a small operation by a relatively small battalion against a Side 7 that the Earth Federation had only just begun to militarize. In sheer scale, it cannot compare to the apocalyptic assault currently underway at Side 7.

************************************************** ***********

Not far away, at Luna 2, the story is much the same. The Federation Space Armada, still heavily battered and undergoing reconstruction after the recent struggle against the Zeon Confederation Forces in the Outer System, was caught flatfooted by the lightning assault of Archduke Alexander Miguel’s attack fleets. As devastating as the loss of operation combat units is on its own terms, even worse is the loss of Luna 2’s logistical resources. Manufacturing, maintenance, and manpower facilities are thoroughly and brutally eliminated, denying the Federation a sanctuary from which to rebuild what the Zeon destroy today.

Terrifying reports are rolling in of Archduchy of Zeon Forces simultaneously striking out at Sides 1, 2, 4, 5, and even neutral Side 6, as well as the Lunar cities of Anman and Von Braun. Additionally, the Zeon fleets have taken advantage of their domination of the high orbital zone to rain beam fire and missiles down on targets on Earth itself, including a massive missile and beam bombardment of the Federation capital of Shanghai in the East Asia sector, among other soft targets on the planet’s surface.

To the citizens and government/military leaders of the Earth Federation, however, nothing could be more terrifying than the sight that had been unfolding on flickering, static-filled glimpses from media spacecraft and automated cameras that had operated for a few minutes after the initial attack before being eliminated by the Zeon: glimpses of Side 7, burning, sent careening out of orbit…Zeon combat units occupying the Federation’s orbital stronghold in numbers that are legion.

Archduke Miguel has obviously planned this operation for a long, long time. A coordinated mass assault such as this could be executed with such efficiency only after years of meticulous planning.

************************************************** ***********

I should have seen this coming, Jonah curses himself in the cockpit of the Centurion Gundam, even as he and his Centurion Team colleagues mount a valiant, desperate, and ultimately futile struggle to turn the overwhelming tide, I know my brother: this is only what I’ve long feared would happen.

The rout is thorough…as devastating as Genghis Khan’s sweeps across the Eurasian steppes in the early 13th Century, the advance of the German Third Reich across the plains of central and Western Europe during the middle of the 20th…or Imperial Japan’s attack at Pearl Harbor during that same war.

Not far from where the Centurion Team is doing its best to safely withdraw from the combat zone, Jolie Minh attacks the advancing Zeon forces with her mighty White Phoenix Gundam.

Jolie wants nothing more than to unleash the full power (whatever that might be) of the WPG against the Zeon, but she knows that she must fight discreetly. The situation is volatile and fluid, and any misguided moves could have unforeseen consequences for the fleeing survivors of the Federal Forces. Moreover, the Federation officially doesn’t know that the WPG exists…the rank and file of the Federal Forces don’t know the WPG from Adam, and to them, the WPG would just be a dangerous UFO that, under the circumstances, the Federal Forces would be inclined to shoot at.

So Jolie keeps her presence mostly concealed, using the WPG’s power in a discreet manner to protect the withdrawing Federal Forces instead of initiating an aggressive counterattack.

Jolie is handily disposing of a pair of Zeon Gellond Striker mobile suits assailing a fleeing Federation personnel carrier unit when a sudden, overwhelming headache…a thousand times worse than any migraine…seizes her. PSI-energy lances forth, unbidden from Jolie’s helmeted head as she begins gasping and panting for air like a woman in labor.

Then she spots it…a black Zeon mobile suit, elegant as it is deadly, creating a tornado of death as it annihilates a squad of Federation Special Forces mobile suits.


Major Kyoko Yamaguchi…the Black Raven!

In the cockpit of the Elmeth Gamma, Kyoko feels the reciprocal effect of Jolie’s presence. Her breathing becomes labored, and her vision begins to blur as an excruciating pain explodes through her skull.

Kyoko clutches the throttle and guidance levers of the Elmeth Gamma tightly, hissing with pain, as electric flame tears from her crown and a glint in the distance catches her eye.

Jolie Minh…the White Phoenix!

The two greatest mobile suit ace pilots of their generation meet at last.

The WPG and the Elmeth Gamma level their weapons at each other, but do not fire. Before any physical exchange is initiated, the two Newtype dynamos engage one another on the level of the mind…

You’re her! the mind of Kyoko Yamaguchi sends towards her adversary like a tidal wave of malice, You’re Jolie Minh…the White Phoenix!

Who…what are you?! Jolie’s subconscious demands of her enemy, You’re…just like me?! How can that be?!


Kyoko does not answer Jolie, instead bringing all her weapon systems to bear on the WPG.

Jolie, sensing the threat, responds likewise.

You’re a threat to Lord Alexander, Kyoko’s thoughts reach Jolie, you must not continue living.

This chick is crazy, Jolie concludes, She seriously wants to kill me. I’d better finish her off before she causes any more trouble!


The two aces, however, are locked in a Mexican standoff. Both attempt to calculate a vector of attack and retreat that will down the other and preserve her own life, but neither can find any avenue to victory without also ensuring her own destruction. For every attack Jolie can conceive, Kyoko has a defense; for every strike Kyoko can make, Jolie has an answer.

The White Phoenix and the Black Raven simultaneously decide to go for broke.

Ah, to Hell with it! Jolie concludes, her finger tensing on the trigger.

She must die, even if I die with her! Kyoko resolves, primed to fire.

But their duel will not be resolved today.

The explosion of multiple heavy warheads saturating the space between them creates such a concussive force that the WPG and the Elmeth Gamma are thrown in opposite directions, the Elmeth Gamma back towards the advancing Zeon legions, and the WPG away from the Side 7 Zone.

“Warning! Warning!” the electronic voice of the WPG’s onboard AI guidance system intones, “Directional stability of unit compromised! Correct headings immediately!”

Jolie clenches her teeth as the concussion waves wash over the WPG, thankful that Camille and his crew had built the WPG to take punishment, “Got…to…get…stabilized!”

Jolie strains against the control yoke of the MS, firing the thrusters in precisely timed intervals at just the correct energy output to bring the WPG to a stable position. She raises her weapons to fire only to see a heavily damaged, but still operating (and fighting) fleet of three Earth Federation Space Armada Salamis-class space battleships filling the space that the Elmeth Gamma had occupied moments earlier.

They must be the ones who fired that missile barrage, Jolie concludes, I can’t let them see me!


Jolie vectors away, en rout to locating Jonah and her former teammates on the Centurion Team.

At the same time, Kyoko has also succeeded in stabilizing her Elmeth Gamma. Her eyes flash with outrage as she spots the Federation warships that disrupted her duel against Jolie.

You were not my intended target, Kyoko sends the thought to the crew of the ships (at least, the Newtypes aboard who can read it), but you will pay for your interference!


The shots intended for Jolie’s WPG ring out, reducing three Federation warships to ballooning masses of searing hot, hyper-expanded metal alloy.

Kyoko prepares to hit the Elmeth Gamma’s thrusters in pursuit of the WPG, but she receives a direct audio communiqué from Archduke Alexander himself.

“Kyoko,” the Archduke’s regal voice comes through Kyoko’s helmet comset, “Disengage from current combat heading and lead our forces into Green Noah City. Crush all resistance: no prisoners.”

“Yes, my lord,” Kyoko replies obediently, redirecting her mecha towards Side 7.

Some other day, White Phoenix, Kyoko vows.

The Special Forces are the elite of the Earth Federation Forces’ MS Corps. Any one of its pilots would qualify as an ace pilot in a regular MS Corps unit. They are, without a doubt, the finest, most deadly combat pilots enlisted in the Federal Forces, armed with state-of-the-art MS unavailable to their comrades in the regular forces.

None of that avails them as the Archduchy of Zeon Forces systematically eliminates them with sheer numbers and no mean deadly skill themselves. Several Special Forces Teams have been completely annihilated, and the surviving units rally around Captain Jonah Michaels’ Centurion Team…the only Special Forces Team that has, thus far, managed to keep all its units intact.

“This is Centurion Leader to all units!” Jonah calls desperately from the Centurion Gundam, “Fall back! There’s too many of them!”

“Fall back where, Captain?!” Chief Warrant Officer Geoff Sutcliffe demands as he downs another Zeon mecha with Vulcan cannon fire, “There’s nowhere to fall back to, man! Our base is a Zeke inferno now!”

“We need backup units!” MSgt. Tomo Higashi grates as his Guncannon 100 is strafed by enemy fire until Jonah blasts the assailant away.

“There is no back up!” 2Lt. Anna Horowitz growls in despair, “There’s nobody left but us! We’re isola…hold on! I’ve got a bogey approaching…fast from coordinate G-7!”

“Friendly or unfriendly?!” someone demands.

“Don’t know,” Anna says, fear and uncertainty in her voice, “My combat archive can’t identify it! But it’s fast, it’s powerful, and…it’s here!”

The White Phoenix Gundam streaks onto scene, tearing into the advancing Zeon forces with its multiple weapon systems, reducing them to space debris.

“What the hell is that?!” Geoff demands.

“The White Phoenix Gundam,” Jonah replies, a smile in his voice.

The Special Forces pilots watch in awe as the White Phoenix Gundam spreads the metallic wings on its back, wings whose “feathers” detach to reveal themselves as Psychom attack units.

The Psychom attack units deploy and hunt down the Zeon mobile suits, catching them in inescapable cross vectors of triple-amplified beam fire. What the Psychom bits don’t catch, the WPG itself makes short work of with a sweep of its powerful beam rifle.

The surviving Zeon forces withdraw in terror of this mysterious white juggernaut.

“Dear God in Heaven…” Anna breathes as she surveys the carnage unleashed by the unidentified white mobile suit.

Uncertain of the identity of this interloper, the Special Forces lock their weapons onto the WPG.

“Hold it, guys!” Jonah orders, “Stand down!”

“What’s the matter?” Jolie’s voice comes through the Special Forces’ frequency, “Don’t you guys love me anymore?”

There is a moment of silent disbelief.

“Jolie…?!" Geoff says tentatively.

“In the flesh, hotshot,” the unmistakably playful, girlish voice returns.

The pilots of the Special Forces whoop in jubilation as they welcome back their comrade-at-arms and ace pilot. If they were not all strapped into mobile suit cockpits, surely Jolie would have been buried by an avalanche of affectionate embraces by now.

That would have to wait, however.

“We have to withdraw,” Jonah reiterates, “We’ve lost Side 7, and I’m getting reports of the other colonies and the Lunar cities being overrun as well. The Zeon control the orbital zones…for now.”

“Where can we go, Jonah?” 2Lt. Chieming Noah asks.

The Centurion Gundam points towards the comforting blue mass of the Earth, “Down there. If the Zeon go by historical tradition, then Earth is their next target. We’ll be needed down there.”

The Special Forces pilots maneuver their mobile suits towards Earth, preparing their vallute reentry systems for deployment.

For most space-combat oriented mobile suits, vallute reentry systems are not installed onto the mecha unless atmospheric reentry is anticipated during operations planning. The conventional wisdom is that installing such a system needlessly restricts an MS’s range of motion and the pilot’s field of vision.

When she commanded the Centurion Team, however, Major Athena Ibaz had dismissed the conventional wisdom to make it a standing order to have all mobile suits in the Special Forces outfitted with a vallute system at all times, even when atmospheric reentry was not anticipated. Major Ibaz’s order was criticized in some quarters as being needless and wasteful.

Today, the former Deputy Director of the Special Forces' sagacity becomes manifest once again.

The Special Forces units and the White Phoenix Gundam prepare for atmospheric reentry, hoping for a landing in the vicinity of the Federation capital city of Shanghai, China in the East Asia Sector of Earth.

Behind them, Zeon reinforcements prepare to burn them as they attempt to make landfall…

Episode 31 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 31 continued...

Anman City on the Lunar surface is a venue of chaos and panic as Zeon mobile suits sweep across the city, targeting all Earth Federation assets, but caring little about whatever and whoever stands in their way.

One of Zeon’s key objectives is Anaheim Enterprises’ main plant, whose mobile suit manufacturing facilities Archduke Miguel sees fit to nationalize.

************************************************** *************

In an underground hangar that the Zeon have yet breached, AE Skunkworks Division Director Camille Vidan and his wife, Fa Yuri Vidan, don combat normalsuits. For Fa, it is her first sortie in over a decade.

“Never thought we’d be in combat again,” Fa says to her husband.

“Yes,” Camille admits as he seals the collar and gloves of his light blue normalsuit, “I really rather not have to do this again, but when crisis calls, we have to set aside what we want for what we have to do.”

So saying, Camille boards his MSZ-006 Z Gundam, lovingly restored and fitted with improved avionics and weaponry systems that make the Gryps War era transformable mobile suit suitable for combat against modern MS. Likewise, his wife Fa’s RX-178 Gundam MK-II with G-Defensor (the “Super Gundam” combination once used by 1Lt. Emma Sheen and Katsu Kobayashi) has been upgraded with new generation components to make it combat worthy for the new Universal Century.

“Camille Vidan, Zeta Gundam, launching now!”

“Fa Yuri, Super Gundam, launching now!”

Camille and Fa burst out of hangar, engaging the Zeon mobile suits attacking the lunar city that has been there home for a decade, but only briefly. The objective is not to combat the Zeon here and now, but to escape, regroup, and return to the fight on a more favorable day.

Camille receives a coded signal, “It’s the AE exodus fleet. We’re to rendezvous with them en rout to the Jupitorius colonies. President Carbine is already on his way there, as are Dr. Artasia Daikun, Operations Director Minerva Zabi, and the rest of the Shambala Republic leadership committee. The resistance is gathering at Jupitorius.”

“Then we’d better rendezvous with the fleet as fast as we can,” Fa says.

Zeta Gundam and Super Gundam fire their thrusters, on a course for the Anaheim Enterprises’ exodus fleet. They vow to return to Anman City, to free its people from Zeon domination.

************************************************** *************

The Special Forces mobile suits begin hitting the outer edge of the thermosphere. Their system displays indicate rising skin temperature on their external shells as friction mounts in the slowly thickening air, and soon, the dual effects of gravity and atmosphere begin buffeting the mobile suits.

“Thermospheric contact,” Chief Warrant Officer Horowitz replies, “650 kilometers and descending at 50 kilometers per minute. T-minus 700 seconds and counting to vallute system deployment. Current angle of descent will put us in the Pacific Ocean, 12 kilometers due east of the Port of Shanghai.”

The mobile suits descend towards earth with their backs towards the planet, the only safe position for mobile suits to achieve atmospheric reentry using a vallute system.

Jolie’s White Phoenix Gundam, however, is the exception. The experimental mobile suit is configured in its Wavediver profile, capable of independent atmospheric reentry.

We started with seventy-five, Jonah laments, but the Special Forces have been reduced to just twenty-one surviving units. This wouldn’t have happened if Athena were still in charge…this is my fault.

Jolie sensing Jonah’s thoughts, sends a response, perceived only by him, Don’t be silly. Even if ‘Thena was in charge, things wouldn’t be any different. It’s not your fault. It’s your brother’s, and those idiots in charge in the Federation High Command!

Alex, Jonah fumes, seething with outrage at his brother’s treachery and cruelty.

There is no time for reflection, however, as a beam blast eliminates a Special Forces mobile suit as it descends helplessly lower into Earth’s atmosphere.

Twenty Special Forces MS and pilots remain.

“Enemy bombardment coming from a Gwadjin-class cruiser directly above us beyond the ionosphere,” Anna announces, “There’s no way of counterattacking them from this position…or avoiding the incoming fire.”

Another blast. Nineteen remain.

“The hell there isn’t,” Jolie snarls, breaking the landing formation and blasting back up towards the ionosphere.

“Jolie, don’t!” Jonah pleads as he watches the White Phoenix Gundam soar back towards space.

“Whoa…” Sgt. Sutcliffe breathes, even as the gravity pins him down to his seat, “I didn’t know a mobile suit could do that! Shouldn’t Jolie’s MS be ripping apart at the seams from the G’s from that maneuver?”

“The White Phoenix Gundam isn’t any ordinary mobile suit, Geoff,” Jonah explains, “It can do things no other MS can…but I can’t help but worry about Jolie anyway.”

“That makes nineteen…”

BLAST!

“…eighteen of us,” Geoff replies with a grunt and a sigh.

The Zeon Gwadjin-class battleship deployed to pick off the remainder of the Special Forces is the Choudin, commanded by Captain Matthias Stone, one of the finest, most experienced commanders in Archduke Miguel’s armada.

“It’s imperative that no Special Forces units survive,” Stone instructs his men from the bridge of the ship, “We must deny the Earth Federation any source of strength from which to…”

“Sir,” a tech reports, “My apologies: we have an incoming bogey.”

“Identify it,” Stone demands.

“Negative ID, sir,” the tech replies, “it’s coming up at us from Earth.”

“From Earth?” Stone says in disbelief, “One lone attack craft from Earth? What sort of desperate…?!”

Stone never completes the thought. The bridge erupts in hellfire.

Through the wake of the exploding space battleship soars the White Phoenix Gundam in Wavediver configuration, briefly transforming to mobile suit mode before once again assuming the aerodynamic profile of the Wavediver.

Jolie directs the WPG back towards the Earth, pouring on extra thrust to catch up with her comrades, who have descended into mesosphere by now.

************************************************** **************

The mobile suits of the Archduchy of Zeon MS Corps march through the streets of Green Noah City, whose surviving civilians (approximately a third of the people who had lived there at the beginning of the day) cower fearfully in their collapsed homes and crude shelters as the Zeon lay claim to their space colony.

Archduke Alexander Miguel lands his Nightingale mobile suit outside the steps of Reville Hall. He disembarks from his MS, and is soon joined by Major Kyoko Yamaguchi and General Ross Davenport.

Miguel marches into the office of General Manron Blackhead (previously the office of General Bright Noah), supreme commander of the Earth Federation Forces, now listed as missing in action and feared dead.

Alexander takes Blackhead’s seat, extracts one of Blackhead’s cigars, and moistens the cigar with his lips.

General Davenport lights the cigar for his commanding officer, blowing out the match.

Alexander inhales a long, deep, satisfied toke from the cigar, “All mine, as it should be.”

Outside Reville Hall, the cry rings out at a frighteningly stentorian volume, as it does across Sides 1 – 6 and the Lunar colonies.

“SIEG, ZEON!”

To be continued in Episode 32!

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 32: DARKEST SUMMER

August 18, U.C. 0100…

Midsummer has arrived in Earth’s northern hemisphere. It is at this time of the year, every year, that the sun shines brightest, longest, and hottest in the skies above North America, Asia, Europe, and the northern sectors of Africa. Trees are at their most lush, and the warm balm of summer breezes lighten the spirits of young and old alike.

This year, however, would be different. Historians would later recall the summer of U.C. 0100 as humanity’s darkest summer ever…the summer when humankind came closest to perishing forever from the Earth.

************************************************** **************

Archduke Alexander Miguel peers down at the fragile cosmic blue marble that is humanity’s cradle from his private office aboard his flagship Cassius. He regards the planet with much the same demeanor as a savvy, world-class jewel thief would regard the most precious sapphire.

General Ross Davenport, the Archduke’s chief of staff, knows what his lord is thinking, “That too will be yours before long, my lord.”

Miguel smiles, “There’s no rush, Ross. It looks small from up here, but in fact, it’s enormous…too enormous to be swallowed in a single gulp. If we don’t soften it up properly first, we’ll just be forced to regurgitate it like our predecessors were.”

“You’re right, my lord,” Davenport replies, “and that’s why the takeover of ALL the Sides colonies needed to be completed prior to the Earth operation, correct?”

Miguel nods, “The Zabis and Haman Karn were too hasty. They attempted to take the Earth with mobile suits, bombardment air/spacecraft, and land invasion units. They both knew the value of using a colony drop to make a bold and unmistakable statement, but failed to use it to break the Federation’s backbone in a substantial way. The fact is, Ross, for all the spectacular damage that resulted, the Federation recovered from both the Australia and Ireland drops. Those drops no more hurt the Federation’s infrastructural core than did the destruction of the World Trade Center towers during the 9/11 attacks damage the United States. We need to accomplish much more than simply make a statement: we must bury the Federation, Ross. Colonel Char had the right idea, but he too moved too soon. We have learned from the mistakes of the Zabis, of Haman, and of Char.”

“With your leave, my lord, I’ll go see to it that preparations are on schedule,” Davenport offers.

Miguel gives his trusted subordinate leave to do so, “Winter has come for the Earth Federation…a long winter from which it will never again rise into the light of the summer sun.”

************************************************** **************

The remaining Special Forces mobile suits, now led by Centurion Team Leader Captain Jonah Michaels, deploy their vallute systems as they descend deep into Earth’s atmosphere, slowing their red-hot descent to a drift.

“All units, standby to jettison vallute packs in t-minus thirty seconds. Engage atmospheric maneuvering verniers at eighty-percent power,” Jonah commands.

“Roger, sir,” the Special Forces pilots respond in compliance.

For Jolie Minh’s White Phoenix Gundam, no such provisions are necessary. The sophisticated, ultra-powerful experimental MS is in its aerodynamic Wavediver configuration, fully capable of atmospheric reentry and maneuvering without the assistance of a vallute system.

“Captain Michaels,” 2Lt. Anna Horowitz reports, “I’m receiving a coded transmission from Federation High Command at Whampoa Base.”

“Decode and retransmit on intra-wave frequency, Lieutenant,” Jonah orders.

“Yes, sir,” Anna replies.

The message comes from Col. Eduard Radmonovic, chief of operations at Whampoa Base, “Captain Michaels: a detachment from our Northeastern Pacific Naval Fleet, the carriers Yue Fei and the McArthur, will receive your units at coordinates A-771 approximately three kilometers due west of your current heading. They’ll transport your units ashore.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Jonah replies, “Any word on the status of our remaining orbital forces?”

The colonel’s reply is grim, “Our Space Armada has essentially been decimated. We were able to recover General Blackhead. The general has survived, but is gravely wounded. He has already been transported to a medical facility for treatment.”

Jonah asks, “Who is in provisional command?”

Colonel Radmonovic replies, “Word is that General Noah has been called out of retirement to resume command of our remaining forces. President Brenner is scheduled to make an official announcement later this afternoon.”

If there is a silver lining to be found in the disaster unfolding around them, it would be this announcement of General Noah’s return to command. Maybe that’s the one hope the Federation has to turn this catastrophe around…

Jonah opens communications to the units under his command, “This is Captain Michaels. We’ll rendezvous with the naval unit and regroup at Whampoa Base. Then, we’ll await orders from General Noah on how we should proceed next.”

“Roger, sir,” comes the collective reply.

************************************************** ***************

At the Federation’s Deliberative Assembly located in a bunker far beneath the streets of Shanghai, China, the Earth Federation’s most prominent civic and military officials rise and applaud as a familiar tall figure strides into the chamber.

General Bright Noah has returned to command of the Earth Federation Forces.

President Brenner, who has already addressed the public from her office and encouraged the people of Earth to stand firm against the new Zeon invasion, turns the podium over to General Noah.

Bright brings the assembly to a hush with a simple gesture of his hand, “Ladies and gentlemen, please: we face a grave crisis. The Archduchy of Zeon Forces have seized complete control over the Cislunar Sphere: our space-based forces are crippled and cut off from access to our facilities here on Earth. If history is a guide, then I anticipate that the Zeon Forces will turn their attention next to the Earth itself. We must move quickly to evacuate population centers located within the vicinity of significant military and government objectives.”

Senator Koichi Saito asks, “General Noah, where do you believe the Zeon will attack next? What form do you believe the attack will take?”

Bright sighs inwardly, If only you all bothered to ask these questions months, even years earlier.

“Shanghai/Whampoa will almost certainly be a target,” Bright says, “as will our bases in Central Asia, Eastern Europe, the British Isles, North America, South America, and northern Africa. NOTHING, Senator, is off the table. As for what form that attack will take…not everyone in this chamber is yet aware that Miguel has obtained nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons…from a Federation stockpile whose existence has only recently come to light.”

A shocked silence ensues, followed by several tense moments of hushed murmuring. Should the Earth Federation survive, numerous recriminations would dominate its political milieu for years…

Finally, President Brenner asks, “How much time do you think we have, General Noah?”

“As much as whatever limitations have prevented Miguel from attacking Earth up until now hold, ma’am,” Bright replies somberly, “which is information we simply do not have. It could be years from now…or it could be mere hours. We cannot wait until we know to act. We must begin evacuating our people and preparing to defend our planet NOW.”

There is only a moment’s discussion before an ashen-faced President Brenner instructs Bright, “General Noah…relay orders to all regional commanders on Earth to begin the orderly evacuation of all terrestrial bases and associated population centers.”

************************************************** ***************

The Special Forces mobile suits, heavily damaged from their battle to escape Garrison Noah and the subsequent emergency reentry into Earth’s atmosphere, finally dock at Whampoa Base located in the wilderness approximately thirty kilometers outside the Federation capital of Shanghai, China.

Crews of technicians rush forth with equipment trucks, cranes, and lifts to repair and rearm the mobile suits as quickly as they can. Whampoa Base has been placed on Red Alert, and the expectation is that the base and the nearby Shanghai metropolitan area could come under assault at any time. All available mobile suits must be ready for combat deployment at a moment’s notice.

For the young MS pilots of the Centurion Team, however, there is also an additional priority.

Jolie Minh has scarcely debarked from the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam when she is mobbed by her former teammates from the Centurion Team. Jolie’s “family” rushes forth to take their ace pilot and former executive officer into their arms and bury her in hugs and kisses, all but knocking Jolie off her feet in their enthusiasm.

Jolie accepts their affection warmly, but not without a pang of guilt. She remembers that she deserted them before they were to enter the peril of combat against the Zeon Confederation Forces, and she thanks her Creator that none of them perished in her absence.

From Jolie’s teammates, however, there are no such recriminatory thoughts – only relief that Jolie is back among them, and a sense of confidence that with Jolie once more fighting at their side, they can overcome even the dire crisis that the Earth Federation Forces now face.

But not everyone is so enthusiastic or so forgiving about Jolie’s return.

Colonel Eduard Radmonovic, commander of Whampoa Base, leads a platoon of armed Federal Forces MPs towards the White Phoenix Gundam. The MPs bark out orders for the Special Forces troopers to clear the way and level their weapons at Jolie.

Jonah steps protectively in front of Jolie, his eyes flashing with never before seen rage.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” the leader of the Centurion Team demands.

“Move aside, Captain,” Col. Radmonovic orders, “1Lt. Jolie Minh is a deserter, and especially in light of the current circumstances, we cannot permit any lapses of discipline or acts of insubordination. 1Lt. Minh will be confined in the stockade pending court martial.”

“The hell she will!” Jonah snarls, rushing forth as if to attack the MPs moving forth to arrest Jolie.

The MPs level their weapons at Jonah, and Jolie grabs him by the arm, “Jonah, don’t!”

MSgt. Karim Abdul Al-Said, the strongest member of the Centurion Team, grabs his commanding officer and holds him in a half nelson, “Sir, calm down!”

Jolie takes the seething Jonah aside and tries to settle him down, “Jonah, I’ll be okay. I’ll go with them. You’ve got to lead the team.”

“But…” Jonah protests.

“The Zeon could attack at any time,” Jolie says earnestly, “the Special Forces are depending on you. All those people out there are depending on you. You can’t let them down because of me. You and ‘Thena always taught me to think through my actions. You’ve got to do that now, Jonah…you’re Centurion Leader.”

Realizing the truth of Jolie’s words, Jonah allows himself to calm down, but he turns to the MPs and Col. Radmonovic with a fiercely admonitory look, “I expect you to treat 1Lt. Minh humanely and fairly. If you harm her in any way, I swear I’ll personally make all of you pay for it!”

Col. Radmonovic is not pleased by being on the receiving end of such a contemptuous attitude by a junior officer, and on any other day, under better circumstances, he would have had Jonah thrown into the stockade along with Jolie. Now, however, is not the time to pursue any such measure.

Nonetheless, Radmonovic indicates the White Phoenix Gundam and orders the MPs, “I want this…unidentified Gundam-class mecha that 1Lt. Minh brought here with her impounded immediately. Gundam-class though it might be, it isn’t listed as one of ours and thus, must be treated as dangerous.”

The Centurions and remaining Special Forces pilots feel their hearts collectively sink as Jolie is led away in handcuffs and Whampoa Base GM-IV MS move in to impound the White Phoenix Gundam. Neither is likely to be available to them as they redeploy to meet the Zeon threat.

Episode 32 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 32 continued...

The mammoth colony mining ship Jupitorius IV makes its way towards its home berth in the Jovian orbit, having left Cislunar Space a scant three hours ahead of the initial attack by the Archduchy of Zeon Forces on Garrison Noah. Ostensibly, the colony ship is merely returning home after having delivered its cargo of hydrogen gas to Side 6, but the Jupitorius IV is now also operating as the mobile headquarters of the Shambala Republic movement.

Gathered in a conference room aboard the titanic spacecraft are Dr. Artasia Daikun, the leader of the Shambala Republic movement, Minerva Zabi, Executive Director of Operations for the movement, Hathaway Noah, Director of Intelligence, Dory Ischinda, Director of Communications and Information. Representing Anaheim Enterprises is Chairman and CEO Mallon E. Carbine and Dr. Camille Vidan. Representing the Luo Corporation is President Stephanie Luo and Vice President Roger Davis. President Derek Masters and his longtime chief assistant, Logan Simmons, represent the Kuromizu Corporation. Also gathered are the leaders of Unibank Corporation, the Universal Media Corporation, and dozens of other business and labor leaders of great power, wealth, and influence over the universal economy.

“The Earth Federation is collapsing before our very eyes,” Chairman Carbine says, “and the new Zeon regime of Alexander Miguel sees fit to establish complete economic as well as political and military domination of the Cislunar Sphere. Ladies and gentleman, only one question remains: what do we plan to do about it?”

Dr. Artasia Daikun speaks, “The Shambala Republic is currently organizing an armed resistance at Jupitorius, using the Jupitorius Civilian Defense Militia as a spearhead. The Archduchy of Zeon presently does not have a large military presence, and they’re currently tied down fighting the Federal Forces based at Ceres Fortress. The JCDM might be able to hold its own against a Zeon attack, at least temporarily, but to mount a counterattack…”

Carbine does not need Artasia to say more, “Our plants, shipyards, and other facilities in the Asteroid Belt, Mars, and Jupiter Zones will be at the Shambala Republic’s disposal. We will produce the armaments needed. Compensation for the use of our resources can be and will be negotiated.”

Roger Davis of Kuromizu adds, “The Kuromizu Corporation likewise pledges its resources, material, human, financial, to the support of Spacenoid independence and liberation from the Zeon!”

President Stephanie Luo interjects, “The Luo Corporation concurs and is willing to commit to the joint effort.”

And so too, Unibank Corporation, Universal Media, and other conglomerates and trade unions…all pledging their support for the Shambala Republic movement.

Artasia turns to Minerva and, with a nod, indicates that she wishes for the Executive Director of Operations to address the conference.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Minerva begins, with a commanding demeanor befitting a one-time duchess, “be advised that the Archduchy of Zeon Forces’ next objective is Earth. If the Zeon capture the planet, then their ability to crush our resistance will likely prove overwhelming. Therefore, we must work with whatever remains of the Earth Federation Forces in preventing the Zeon from occupying Earth.”

There are nods of agreement, as the leaders of the Shambala Republic movement and the world’s industrial and financial chiefs make ready to unite in a desperate resistance effort against Zeon.

But one who nods with his head does not agree in his heart.

************************************************** ************

Logan Simmons first joined the Kuromizu Corporation in U.C. 0081, gradually working his way up from mailroom clerk to chief administrative assistant to the president over a period of nine years. Little was known about Simmons prior to his joining the corporation…only that he had graduated with a degree in economics from Zum University at Side 3 the year prior to the outbreak of the One Year War. Like so many others, Simmons had found himself displaced by that war, and few questions were asked when he came to Kuromizu looking for a job eighteen months after the conclusion of hostilities. Kuromizu took his work seriously, and was meticulous, dedicated, and a good keeper of secrets. For these reasons, he was valued at Kuromizu and soon attracted the favorable attention of the company’s corporate heads. Simmons was efficient, smart, and dutiful, and thus, a valuable cog in Kuromizu’s corporate machine.

If only Simmons’ employers had known that their valued employee had been, during U.C. 0079 – 0080, known as Captain Logan Simmons of the Zeon Intelligence Bureau, key to several espionage operations that resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Federal Forces troops during the One Year War. Nor did they know that Captain Simmons had been a crucial intelligence link that enabled the Zeon to launch the Operation British, which had been intended to destroy the then Federal Forces headquarters at Jaburo in South America, but ultimately was diverted to save Jaburo at the expense of the eastern coast of Australia.

The destruction of the Archduchy’s computer databases at the end of the war meant many ex-Zeon soldiers who wanted to get a fresh start in a post-war life could do so without much fear of recrimination. For years, Simmons did just that…setting aside his role in the most heinous war crime in history to live a more or less normal life

But civilian life did not agree with Simmons. The world of expense account sheets and earnings margins did not provide the same thrills as being part of a process that could alter, even end the lives of millions.

The power to be a god…a god of death…raining death from the heavens on the heathens below.

Simmons brought his former training and skill to use with subsequent Zeon regimes that required his expertise…to Regent Haman Karn when she ordered the Dublin colony drop, and to Col. Char Aznable in his drop of 5th Luna on the previous Federation capital at Lhasa, Tibet and the subsequent abortive drop of Axis Fortress on the planet’s surface.

Simmons watched them all from space, and felt that perverse, almost erotic thrill as he saw devastation descend from the heavens. The feeling was almost orgasmic.

But all of Simmons’ previous experiences would pale before what Archduke Alexander Miguel has in mind…a prospect that leaves Simmons’ shaking at the prospect.

************************************************** **************

In his private quarters aboard the Jupitorius IV, Simmons makes notes of the Shambala Republic’s activities on his Datapad, preparing to transmit his data to ZIB after the Jupitorius IV has docked at the Jupitorius Colonies. Transmitting from the Jupitorius IV is too risky; Simmons’ cover would almost certainly be blown.

Feeling nature’s call, Simmons leaves his quarters and walks down one of the ship’s long corridors to the men’s head located at his section of the residential decks.

Simmons finds Hathaway Noah at one of the sinks, who turns to him with a friendly grin as he washes his hands.

Simmons loosens his fly and stands before the urinal, attempting to steady his nerves and get his mind off his fervent anticipation of the firefall to come…

A strong hand suddenly grabs the back of Simmons’ collar, dragging him back away from the urinal and sending him crashing to the floor of the head.

The last sight that Simmons remembers before fading into oblivion is a flash of Hathaway Noah’s fist.

************************************************** **************

Sometime later…hours? Days? Simmons awakens in a small, dark room. The constant hum of a powerful nuclear fusion engine confirms to Simmons that he is still aboard the Jupitorius IV.

Through the haze, Simmons can make out the tall, wiry frame of Hathaway Noah, flanked by two armed men…Shambala intelligence agents.

“You look well rested now, Mr. Simmons,” Hathaway says, placing his face close to Simmons’, “There are some questions I need to ask you.”

“What is this?!” Simmons demands, “Why have you detained me like this?! My employer won’t be…”

“…coming to your aid,” Hathaway finishes, “We’ve already confirmed to President Masters your role in various Zeon colony drop operations dating back to the One Year War. Kuromizu is a munitions company. War and death mean steady profits for Kuromizu, so the company isnt exactly a bastion of ethical and humane people. But even Kuromizu doesn’t have much use for a proven mass murderer. Imagine the P.R. shitstorm that would create.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Simmons says with a weak smile, “You’re space happy, Noah!”

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Hathaway says, stepping away, “You can talk to someone more pleasant.”

Minerva Zabi steps into cone of light trained on Logan Simmons; the former Duchess of Zeon’s eyes are unnervingly cold.

“Being personally questioned by ex-royalty,” Simmons smirks, “I’m deeply flattered.”

Minerva says nothing. She drops deliberately into an alluring crouch in front of Simmons, taking his jaw in her hand…her cybernetic left hand.

The hand, still evincing a delicate femininity despite being constructed of silicon and aluminum alloy, feels the contours of Simmons’ jaw gently for a moment, arousing him almost as much as witnessing a drop.

But when the gentle hand finds its way to his throat, it suddenly constricts, cutting the flow of air out of Simmons’ windpipe.

“You’ve done your part for the Archduchy gassing in the past,” Minerva says in an icy tone, “those people in the colonies: they all asphyxiated slowly to their deaths, much as you’re doing now.”

Minerva increases the pressure ever so slightly as Simmons attempts desperately to gasp, but can emit nothing more than a dry, strained rasp. Saliva begins to spill from the corners of his mouth.

“I haven’t fully mastered the use of this prosthetic,” Minerva says to Simmons with deliberate plainness, which is all the more menacing for its lack of direct and apparent menace, “I understand, however, that it’s capable of indenting steel.”

So saying, Minerva intensifies the pressure around Simmons’ throat…ever so slightly.

“We take much for granted,” Minerva says, “the breath of life being the most obvious and thus the most overlooked. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Simmons?”

Simmons’ eyeballs have begun to go white as his face becomes purple.

“If I give you back the breath of life,” Minerva says, “will you use it to tell me a story…a true story about an Archduke and his ambitions?”

Straining his neck muscles, Simmons attempts furiously to nod.

Minerva releases her grip on Simmons’ throat; the ZIB operative begins gasping and sobbing for air as the two Shambala Republic intelligence agents aim pistols at either side of his head.

Minerva sits at a chair opposite to Simmons, Hathaway standing ready at her side. She lights a cigarette as she gives Simmons a moment to catch his breath.

“So tell me a story, Mr. Simmons,” Minerva repeats, blowing out the match with which she lit her cigarette.

************************************************** **************

Half an hour later, Logan Simmons, having given a deposition unlike any other on multiple levels, is taken away by Shambala authorities to the Jupitorius IV’s brig. A trial for mass murder awaits Simmons upon his arrival at the Jupitorius Colonies.

As Hathaway and Minerva make their way to the conference room to make their findings known to Dr. Artasia Daikun and the Shambala Republic’s backers, Hathaway cannot help remarking to Minerva, “You’ve elevated strong arm interrogation techniques to a whole new, literal level.”

Minerva smirks, “Sorry. Old family habits die hard.”

************************************************** *************

An hour later, Dr. Daikun is in an emergency teleconference with General Bright Noah of the Earth Federation Forces and President Gloria Brenner of the Earth Federation Government. Both Federation leaders turn sickly pale as the implications of what Artasia tells them sinks in.

“Are you sure, Sayla?” Bright asks of his friend and former White Base subordinate.

“I wish I could tell you otherwise, General,” Artasia replies somberly, “but the reality is very, very grim right now. You have to evacuate Earth’s bases and cities right away. We’ll do our best to assist you from our end.”

Dr. Camille Vidan then appears over Artasia’s shoulder, “Dr. Daikun: if I may, I need a word with General Noah and President Brenner.”

“Of course, Camille,” Artasia says, stepping aside.

“Camille,” Bright says in recognition, “it’s been a very long time.”

“Bright,” Camille says, dispensing with the pleasantries that would normally accompany this first contact in a decade with his former commanding officer on the Ahrgama , “listen to me. You need to use Jolie Minh and Jonah Michaels in the Psi-Gundam.”

“I’m sorry,” Bright says, not quite comprehending, “What are you saying, Camille? What about Jolie Minh, Jonah Michaels, and…Psi-Gundam?”

“The combined unit formed by the Centurion Gundam and the White Phoenix Gundam,” Camille explains hurriedly, “their combined Newtype powers focused through the Biosensor system of the Psi-Gundam is the only chance you have of diverting a colony drop. I’m not entirely sure it’ll work, but it’s the one shot you have.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bright replies, “Thank you, Camille. Sayla: we’re going to have to end this communication for now. We need every second we have to get ready.”

“Understood,” Artasia replies, “good luck to you, Bright…and President Brenner.”

As the communications monitors in the Federation government headquarters beneath Shanghai go dark, President Brenner asks Bright desperately, “General, what about the nuclear option?”

“Not an option,” Bright replies curtly, “even disregarding the Antarctic Treaty, if we deploy nuclear warheads against the descending mass of the colonies, all we’d do is send radioactive fallout raining back down on us. It’d just compound the disaster.”

“What can we do, then?” President Brenner asks, hands racing nervously through her silvery hair.

“Precisely what Dr. Daikun and Dr. Vidan recommended,” Bright says grimly.

************************************************** **************

Within hours, the cities and military bases of Earth become sites of mass hysteria and pandemonium as hundreds of millions of people are mobilized to flee their homes and duty stations to seek shelter in the rural outbacks of every continent on the planet. A disaster of a magnitude never before seen in human history, and only glimpsed at in the most terrible days of earlier wars, will soon strike upon the Earth.

In the halls of academia, meteorologists, climatologists, ecologists, and geologists alike grimly forecast the short- and long-term consequences for planet Earth and its people of the horrific event to come. The most optimistic assessment is that the planet’s northern hemisphere would see two to three years of darkness, with a maximum 60% loss of life (the minority through initial impact; the majority through the mass starvation that would follow the destruction of the agricultural base). Others believe that nothing short of complete extinction of humanity on Earth is the more likely result.

The Earth had sustained two colony drops in eight years, and the ecological fallout of those horrors linger to this day…but the Earth and its people did survive those catastrophes if only because of their singularity.

But how could the people of Earth survive a dozen simultaneous colony drops from multiple vectors of space?

Episode 32 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 32 continued...

General Bright Noah rushes out of his staff limousine at Whampoa Base. Col. Radmonovic, who had been expecting the general, salutes the recently reinstated Supreme Commander of the Earth Federation Forces.

“Sir!” Radmonovic salutes.

Bright returns the salute, then issues his orders crisply, “Col. Radmonovic, I want 1Lt. Minh released from custody NOW.”

“Yes, sir,” Radmonovic replies, “But…”

“But NOTHING,” Bright says forcefully, his eyes flashing, “She might be the only hope we have of averting catastrophe! Get her out of that cell right now, colonel!”

Jolie is released within minutes, running into the loving embrace of Captain Jonah Michaels.

Bright turns to the young couple, “Jolie, Jonah: Alexander Miguel is about to drop twelve space colonies on Earth. There’s no way we’ll be able to divert all of them, but the first one from Side 1 is estimated to descend right over Shanghai in just about two hours from now. Our forces are deployed around the globe attempting to evacuate our other bases and cities, but we need to buy them as much time as we can. Dr. Camille Vidan says that your combined Newtype powers can be of help if you use the Psi-Gundam, can we rely on you?”

“Yes, sir,” Jolie and Jonah reply resolutely.

“1Lt. Minh,” Bright says gravely, “By the power vested in me by the Earth Federation Government as Supreme Commander of the Earth Federation Forces, I hereby grant you a conditional commutation of any conviction or sentence the Federal Forces military tribunal might see fit to give you for your act of desertion. You are hereby reinstated to the Earth Federation Forces as senior executive officer of the Centurion Special Operations Team at your old rank of First Lieutenant, with the caveat that no matter your merit, your rank will never advance beyond that of Captain.”

So I’ll never make General, Jolie reflects wryly, I’ll take it: it’s no punishment at all considering I was looking at a firing squad or a small cell for life at best.

“Thank you, General Noah,” Jolie replies.

“Thank you, sir,” Jonah echoes.

Bright smiles at the couple, taking their hands in his, “As has been so often the case, our future is in the hands of Newtypes. I wish you both well.”

************************************************** ****************

Jolie and Jonah rush to deploy in their mobile suits. The fate of billions is now up to them.

The Centurion Team members see 1Lt. Jolie Minh, back in her silver and red Earth Federation Forces normalsuit (with silver bar 1Lt. ranks at the O-ring collar) and cheer.

The White Phoenix has returned to the Centurion Team!

Before boarding the Centurion Gundam, Jonah turns to 1Lt. Chieming Noah, “Chieming…you take command of the Special Forces team to assist the regular forces in securing the evacuation of the base and the city. Jolie and I are going to try to tackle this head on.”

“Yes, sir,” Chieming replies dutifully, “But what do you mean by ‘head on?’”

“Don’t have time to explain,” Jonah says donning his helmet, “With any luck, it’ll be your kids’ bedtime story some day!”

White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam rocket into Earth’s stratosphere even as the rest of the Special Forces’ mobile suits join with the units of the regular forces to begin the process of evacuating the base and the city…no mean task given the very limited time crunch.

At 2,000 meters altitude, Jolie begins the combination link-up sequence for the Psi-Gundam. She has performed this operation perhaps a dozen times in simulation…never before in actual combat.

“Link-up modules deployed, power up 80%,” Jolie announces.

“Roger,” Jonah acknowledges, “Centurion Gundam link up procedures complete…standing by for lock on.”

“Power at 100%...engage maximum boost, linkup engaged!” Jolie confirms.

The White Phoenix Gundam begins folding…not to Wavediver configuration or to mobile suit configuration, but to a somewhat flat, polygonal form that wraps itself module by module around the body of the Centurion Gundam in a manner somewhat like a suit of armor around the body of a warrior, fitting snugly over shoulders, hips, forearms, torso, and legs.

The two Gundams have merged into a single, powerful machine.

The PSI-GUNDAM!

“Biosensor up!” Jolie yells over the din created by the powerful dual nuclear fusion engines.

“Boost engaged!” Jonah confirms.

The PSI-Gundam rockets towards space…just as the massive bulk of a Side 1 colony becomes visible.

************************************************** ************

From the bridge of the Cassius, Archduke Alexander Miguel watches impassively as thirteen colony cylinders from every Side with the exception of Side 3 are maneuvered into position by Archduchy of Zeon mobile suits escorted by the Zeon Armada. Miguel has handpicked the best pilots in his forces for this job; precision and steadiness will be indispensable of each colony is to successfully hit its predetermined targets at a dozen sites on each of Earth’s continents…and at coastal waters to ensure that massive tsunamis finish the jobs that initial impacts do not.

Hence, he has deployed Major Kyoko Yamaguchi and her Black Ravens to supervise the Shanghai drop.

Miguel had not bothered to evacuate the colonies used in the drop. Too much lead time would be wasted in such a measure, which had preceded the Operation British and Dublin drops, for the Federal Forces to prepare. Miguel determined that he would not give the Federation that time.

As for the millions of Spacenoids in those colonies…let them be martyrs for the Zeon cause. It’s the only redemption available to them after their foolish choice to support the degenerates of the Earth Federation. This way, they can salvage some of their honor as Spacenoids.

At long last, Miguel reflects, Zeon’s finest hour has come.

************************************************** ***************

The mass of Side 1’s Colony California, one of the oldest space colonies still in orbit, looms in front of the advancing Psi-Gundam, the mighty mobile suit looking so tiny and insignificant compared to the billions of tons of metal, glass, and reinforced ceramic now bearing down upon the Earth.

“Oh…my…dear…God,” Jolie gapes, realizing the enormity of what they’re up against.

”Jolie, snap out of it!” Jonah calls out from the Centurion Gundam, “We’ve got to try to stop it!”

“Right,” Jolie says, composing herself, “We have to merge, just like we used to do in our joint attack method.”

“JoMi?” Jonah says, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“JoMi,” Jolie confirms.

The couple surrenders their conscious thought process, opening their minds to one another…opening their hearts to one another.

The two become one…White Phoenix...White Dove.

Waves of Psi-energy, little understood by scientists, but capable of literally shifting the heavens, emanate forth from the Psi-Gundam.

Colony California’s descent slows, but does not stop.

************************************************** *************

Aboard the Cassius, Archduke Miguel receives a report that the descent of Colony California into Earth’s atmosphere has inexplicably slowed.

Archduke Miguel is not particularly disturbed by this development, although he is curious. Thus, he contacts Major Kyoko Yamaguchi aboard her Elmeth Gamma.

“Captain Yamaguchi,” Miguel says, “the descent of the Colony California has slowed for some reason. Could you please check it out and report in?”

“At once, my lord,” Kyoko’s ice cold voice replies.

************************************************** *************

Jolie and Jonah have entered a state of absolute bliss…of ultimate release. Here, there is no conflict, no uncertainty, no fear…only of unity and tranquility.

That positive energy flows outward and upward, suspending the Colony California’s fall toward the Earth…

But can we push it back into its orbit? Jolie’s mind wanders of a second.

Don’t focus too much on it, Jonah’s mind replies, It won’t work that way…got to release…let go…

But a sudden Psi-spark warning of danger breaks the couple’s concentration.

The Psi-Gundam narrowly dodges a fatal strike by Major Kyoko Yamaguchi’s Elmeth Gamma!

“Damn it!” Jolie curses, coming out of her trance.

“It’s the Black Raven!” Jonah bites out, then gasps, “Colony California is falling again! It’s losing altitude!”

“We have to stop it!” Jolie cries out desperately.

Not so easily done, as the Black Raven attacks them again.

“Zeon b*tch!” Jolie snarls, “I’ll have to kill you first!”

Assuming manual control, Jolie deploys the Psi-Gundam’s multiple weapons systems…Psychom funnels, missiles, beam cannon, beam rifle, in a mad, desperate assault against the interloper.

With great difficulty, Kyoko succeeds in avoiding most of the fusillade, but takes some damage to her Elmeth Gamma…a first for her.

New orders from the Archduke come in, “Kyoko, please withdraw from the battle immediately. Your mission is accomplished. I don’t want you engaging that ‘White Phoenix’ right now.”

“Yes, my lord,” Kyoko replies dutifully, but without masking the disappointment in her voice.

The Elmeth Gamma vectors away. The Archduke is correct, as always. Her job is done. A showdown with the White Phoenix can wait for another day.

Kyoko spares a moment for a thought of compassion for the millions of Spacenoids whose lives will be sacrificed to break the backbone of the Federation. An orphan herself, she is not insensible to the suffering and death that will be experienced by those unfortunate souls both in the colony and on Earth.

But for humanity’s future, some must inevitably make sacrifices. Kyoko understands this, as does the Archduke. She has pledged her life to Archduke Miguel and the Archduchy of Zeon, and would gladly give her life for both of them.

************************************************** **************

“Jonah, it’s no use!” Jolie cries out, “I can’t focus! I can’t get into the Psi-state!”

“I know,” Jonah says in torment, “I have the same problem here. Jolie, we’ve failed…there’s nothing we can do for those people…in the colony, or on Earth!”

“Alexander Miguel…” Jolie snarls, her voice full of rage.

For once, Jonah is in full agreement with Jolie about his brother. If Alexander were here now, Jonah is not certain he would spare him either…brother or no brother.

Jolie and Jonah’s efforts prove to not be completely futile. Although ultimately unable to halt Colony California’s descent, the couple has succeeded in altering its entry trajectory so that it will land in the wastelands lying several hundred kilometers northwest of Shanghai in the Gobi Desert rather than directly over the Shanghai metropolitan area and Whampoa Base. Millions of lives will still be lost, but millions of others have been saved thanks to the couple’s efforts.

But the same cannot be said in many other parts of Earth.

************************************************** *************

One by one, they come down…over Central Asia, the Indian subcontinent, Australia (now twice devastated), Central Europe, North America, Western Africa, and a half dozen other crash sites.

Earth-shaking impact, followed by fiery explosions that send burning embers shooting dozens of kilometers away, followed by deadly vacuum and cyclonic winds.

Over the course of several hours, tens of millions of people die on six continents.

And then the skies over the beautiful blue planet, humanity’s home, darken. The sun disappears behind a massive dark, burning cloud, seemingly never to return.

It is humanity’s darkest hour…its darkest summer.

To be continued in Episode 33!

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 33: ASHES TO ASHES

First came the ground-shaking initial impacts, which resulted in the destabilization of multiple networks of fault lines resulting in massive earthquakes and activating over a dozen volcanic vents, throwing tens of millions of tons of soot and ash into the skies above Earth.

The colony cylinders were targeted to fall not only on the continental plates, but also into the coastal waters…one within twenty kilometers of the California coast near Los Angeles, another within thirty kilometers of the Yokohama waterfront in Japan, a third within view of Boston Harbor on the Eastern Seaboard, and a fourth into English Channel between the ports of Dover and Calais.

And thus, even as the skies darkened with smoke and ash, the waters of the ocean rose and crashed upon the land, flooding thousands of square kilometers of populated and fertile land with the cold, salty touch of hundreds of billions of liters of sea water.

And after the ash and the water, the fire…the fire of hundreds of forests, tens of thousands of trees set aflame, further choking the air and blackening the sky.

It is humanity’s darkest day…the day that the prophets have warned of since before the beginning of history.

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August, U.C. 0100 - Catastrophe on Earth

In the hours after the initial impact, frightened, desperate masses of the faithful gather in their houses of worship, begging their Creator for deliverance from the catastrophe long warned of, now finally come to pass.

In one church, a pastor opens his Bible to the Book of Revelation and reads to his frightened parishioners even as they cower between peers, sobbing with horror and despair, “And I beheld, and heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice, Woe, woe, woe, to the inhabiters of the earth…”

On the other side of the soot-choked, burning, inundated globe now gripped by terror and death, another priest, of another faith, reads from another holy scripture in an ancient tongue words made famous in the modern age by the man who gave his fellow man the power rend the atom. The ancient Hindu text of the Bhagavad Gita would read, translated, would approximate, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."


Above the fray, suspended in space over the darkening hangs the Black Raven, an ebony angel of death, heralding the death of the world.

************************************************** *************

From his command chair aboard the Cassius, Archduke Alexander Miguel watches the beginning of humanity’s extinction on Earth with fire in his eyes and a smile on his lips, “And now, the Earth will be cleansed…cleansed of the degenerates that have ruled it for too long, and a new age will dawn at long last.”

************************************************** **************

Captain Jonah Michaels and 1Lt. Jolie Minh struggle to regain control of their interlocked mobile suits as they descend into the stratosphere. The multiple impacts of the colonies on the surface of the Earth have created a massive disruption of air currents in the lower atmosphere, and Jonah and Jolie find themselves struggling to maintain any sort of course or heading as powerful winds buffet their mecha, overwhelming even the migthy engines and stabilizers of the Psi-Gundam’s Super Wavediver.

“Jonah!” Jolie calls out over her helmet’s internal comset, “Can you get any kind of reading on our coordinates…or even how close the ground is?!”

“Negative,” Jonah’s voice crackles through the static, “There’s too much interference from all this dust and the wind, to say nothing of the Minovsky particles. We were falling back towards Whampoa Base when we began our descent, but we’re at least a thousand kilometers off course now.”

“Damn it!” Jolie snarls as another eddy of superheated air buffets the Psi-Gundam with bone-breaking force.

After recovering from the shock, Jonah manages to gasp out, “Near as I can tell, we’re somewhere over the Gobi Desert…Inner Mongolia.”

“Mongolia?” Jolie responds, “Does the Federation have any bases in Mongolia?”

“One remote perimeter station,” Jonah replies, “established to combat the Zeon in the Taklamakan Desert during the One Year War. This region is sparsely populated, as it’s been for centuries. Mostly nomadic herdsmen, probably fewer than a quarter million in the area.”

“I guess that passes for good news,” Jolie says grimly,”Look up ahead!”

Jonah sees it on the horizon…perhaps a good 100 kilometers dead northeast of them, but still looming massively over the land, dwarfing mountains…the burning, smoldering wreck of California Colony.

“Oh…my…God….” is all Jonah can manage as a wave of terror washes over him.

The five million or so souls within the colony are undoubtedly alerady dead. Their suffering is over. On the ground, in the immediate area, at least, there are relatively few casualties (if several tens of thousands can really be thought of as “few” in the context of human lives lost). Jonah knows, however, that as spectacular as this horror is, the true suffering will be measured in weeks, months, years...perhaps even the rest of time for as long as there are people to reckon it.

Maybe that time won’t be as long as feared, Jonah reflects bitterly.

And all because of one man…one man with whom Jonah shares a surname…his own brother, Archduke Alexander Miguel.

************************************************** **************

“Get as many civilians into the Garuda-class air transports and Pegasus-IV class MS carriers as possible!” General Bright Noah bellows from the command seat of the Amuro Ray, rapidly pressed back into service from where the ship was being refurbished at the Harbin Dockyards.

Captain Beecher Olech, back in command of the ship after a two-month furlough following the end of the war against the Zeon Confederation Forces, responded immediately to the distress call from Whampoa Base after the Federal Forces detected the movement of the colonies. Initial orders came down from the High Command for all available space warships ready for service and stationed in the Far East sector to attempt to intercept California Colony and attempt to blast the descending mass off course, but that need having been met by the Psi-Gundam, General Noah ordered all ships to the Shanghai area and other metropolitan zones to assist in evacuation procedures.

“We have to move quickly!” Bright continues, his voice full of urgency, “We expect the tsunami to reach Shanghai in a little over an hour! We must evacuate all personnel from the area before that!”

Shanghai in the year U.C. 0100 remains the most populous city on planet Earth, home to over 20 million people and the seat of the Earth Federation Government since U.C. 0093. Whampoa Base, located in the wilderness outside the immediate urban zone, has supplanted the former Jaburo Base as the Federation’s main military hub on Earth.

Captain Jonah Michaels and 1Lt. Jolie Minh succeeded in averting disaster for the Earth Federation by diverting the falling Colony California from a direct hit on Shanghai to a relatively “safe” crash landing in the Gobi Desert of Outer Mongolia some 2,500 kilometers to the northwest. Even at that great distance, however, the citizens of Shanghai could feel the ground vibrate beneath their feet from the impact of the colony with the sand and rock of the Gobi, and the towering cloud of dark ash from that impact has already begun to darken the skies above midday Shanghai.

The more immediate peril to the citizens of the city, however, comes from the tsunami resulting from the crash of Colony Oahu near the islands ofJapan. That ocean landing of a space colony has generated a tsunami that has already inundated the Japanese coastal cities, generating tens of millions of casualties, and is now bearing down on Shanghai.

Bright switches channels to the frequency of the Centurion Team, raising the interim Centurion Team Leader, his own daughter, 2Lt. Chieming Noah, “2Lt. Noah, do you copy?”

“Yes, sir, Da…General,” Chieming replies, “Go ahead, sir.”

“Lieutenant,” Bright says tersely, “Have you had any success in contacting or locating Captain Michaels and 1Lt. Minh?”

“Negative, sir,” Chieming replies, “We lost communications with them while they were diverting Colony California, and we haven’t been able to locate them again since. We’re getting very worried here, sir.”

“Same here, Chieming,” Bright replies grimly, dropping protocol momentarily, “There are no words to describe the magnitude of the catastrophe we’re facing here. This could be the end…of everything.”

“Daddy,” Chieming says, choking back tears.

“Your mother is safe,” Bright says reassuringly, “She’s on a Garuda-class aircraft headed south, along with other officials of the government. Can you handle interim command of the remaining Special Forces?”

“Yes, sir,” Chieming says.

“All right, Lieutenant,” Bright replies back on protocol, “Your orders are to provide security for the departing air- and spacecraft. There are over twenty million people leaving Shanghai…the largest single exodus in human history. We won’t be able to transport even a fraction of a single percent of that in our ships and planes. We couldn’t do it if we had a month, but all we have are hours.”

“What can we do, General?” Chieming asks her father.

“We’ll save as many as we possibly can,” Bright answers, “as best we can. As for the rest…may God help them.”

Chieming understand the import of her father’s words; for most of Shanghai’s teeming population, there is no hope at all.

To be continued!

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 33 continued...

Jolie and Jonah have disengaged the interlock system on the Psi-Gundam, reverting to separate White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam units. The White Phoenix Gundam remains in its Wavediver configuration, with the Centurion Gundam prone aboard its fuselage like a surfer on his board.

“It’s just complete devastation down there,” Jonah remarks, surveying the damage, “No sign of anything living…”

“It’s getting hard to stay airborne with the atmospheric turbulence created by the impact,” Jolie says, “I’m gonna set her down.”

In response to that, Jonah jumps the Centurion Gundam off the back of the WPG even as the latter mecha converts to mobile suit configuration.

Side by side, the dual Gundams fly over the seemingly endless expanse of desolation and fiery wind.

“This is 2Lt. Jolie Minh, Centurion Team, Earth Federation Special Forces,” Jolie broadcasts via the WPG’s powerful telecommunications suite, “Are there any survivors out there? Please acknowledge. Federation High Command, do you copy?”

No reply other than static.

Jonah scans through the various views his scopes are feeding into his monitor…nothing but dust, fiery ash, and desolation for over a hundred kilometers.

The onboard communications receivers aboard Jolie and Jonah’s mobile suits continue to give them nothing to listen to other than bursts of static for several long minutes, but then at last…faintly, indistinctly, from behind the wall of white noise…a human voice?

Yes, a human voice…poorly defined, but coming into focus as the static breaks and words become intelligible.

“…ster Sergeant….ningham Tanaka…8th Bat…ion, 15th MS orps, 3rd Army E…th Fede…ion Forces.”

“Roger, Sergeant Tanaka, I’m receiving you,” Jonah replies into the comnet, “This is Captain Jonah Michaels, commanding officer, Centurion Special Operations Team, Earth Federation Forces. Do you copy?”

There follows another maddening burst of static before Tanaka’s voice replies, more clearly, “Roger, Captain…I’m receiving you. Special Forces, huh?”

“Sergeant,” Jonah says, “What’s your location? My second-in-command and I will rendezvous with you.”

Tanaka’s rough, gravelly voice replies, “Broadcasting coordinates to you now, Captain. We’re about fifty kilometers northwest of our base station, which itself was located twenty miles due west of the impact site. The base was heavily damaged, but most of the personnel managed to escape. We’re escorting those surviving personnel and whatever supplies we could load up away from the strike zone.”

“Wait there,” Jonah answers, “we’ll rendezvous with you in…ETA to their location, Jolie?”

Jolie has already run the ETA to the coordinates through the WPG’s onboard combat computer, “At our current speed, approximately eight minutes.”

“…eight minutes, Sergeant,” Jonah finishes.

“Roger that, Captain,” Tanaka replies crustily, “the Desert Dogs are waitin’ here for ya! Tanaka out!”

Jonah asks Jolie, “The Desert Dogs?”

“Must be the code name of their unit,” Jolie replies, “Never heard of them. Space-based forces and land forces never get together much.”

Just one of the problems with the way the Federation Forces work, Jonah reflects.

Looking around at the devastating all around, however, Jonah wonders if that isn’t a moot point now; perhaps he, Jolie, and these so-called “Desert Dogs” are all that’s left of the Earth Federation Forces.

************************************************** ***************

In the Shanghai metropolitan area, complete pandemonium has taken over the city as only fifteen minutes remain before the waters of the Pacific are expected to swell, overwhelming the Yangtze River Delta behind which the city of Shanghai rests. The anticipated deluge is expected to be, in the paradoxical words of the geologist tapped to forecast the extent of the damage, “biblical.”

All available air and spacecraft that could be located and sent to the region in time have already transported tens of thousands of people away from the doomed capital of the Earth Federation, leaving behind tens of millions more. These condemned people have taken to their motor vehicles, which jam the highways leaving the city, and ultimately, to their feet…trampling tens of thousands in a mad desperate exodus from the impending disaster.

Many more have resigned themselves to their fate, awaiting the end in their homes, gathering together with loved ones one last time. Those who are faithful pray for deliverance, even as many others doubt salvation will come.

One ship remains…the Amuro Ray. General Bright Noah has resolved that his ship would not be leaving the city until after the massive wave hits…to provide whatever aid it can to whatever survivors might remain.

“General Noah, Captain Beecher,” a bridge tech reports, “We have visual confirmation of approaching tidal wave.”

They see it from the bridge of the ship: a wall of water…dozens of meters tall…taller than any mobile suit, and thousands of kilometers wide.

Bright, Beecher, and the others can only gape in terrified awe. Bright has seen plenty of horrors in his twenty-plus years as a soldier in the Earth Federation Forces, but he has never, ever witnessed anything as horrific as this.

The officers and enlisted personnel aboard the Amuro Ray can only cringe helplessly as they watch the advancing wall of salt water crash past the dockyards of Shanghai and inundate the city proper. Within minutes, millions are swept into the tide, to drown and be washed dozens of kilometers away.

The mobile suit pilots of the Special Forces, under the temporary command of 2Lt. Chieming Noah, watch in silent terror as scores upon scores of lives are lost in an instant, and the world’s most populous city for over two centuries is reduced to a watery mass grave.

Buildings crumble, walls shatter, a mighty tower collapses to the ground, sending electrical sparks shooting into the sky.

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Massive tidal waves created by the colony drop impacts level Earth's coastal cities, including Shanghai, China.

The silence is broken moments later by the sounds of sobbing over the comnet, issuing from more than the one MS cockpit. Chieming recognizes one of those sobs as her own.

Shanghai has been Chieming’s hometown for the past seven years. So many of the friends she loved…the teachers who had taught her so much…how many of them were lost in that instant? She would never know, just as she would never be able to say farewell to them…just as she was unable to save them from this disaster.

Chieming has heard Jolie and Minerva tell her about their experiences of losing loved ones in the war, of watching helplessly as innocents died.

Chieming has not held any illusions that she would live her entire life without knowing something of this experience herself, but that does not truly prepare her for it.

But 2Lt. Chieming Noah is a soldier, like her father and mother were before her. They had all known the loss of loved ones. Grief is no license for dereliction of duty.

Not even in a moment of apocalypse.

“Centurion Three to all units,” Chieming says through a voice she holds steady only through the greatest effort, “as soon as the waters begin to recede, get down there and start looking for survivors!”

Burning ashes from the sky, blotting out the sun, the sea rushing into the streets of the city…if only that were all Shanghai had to endure today.

From high orbit, an army of armored soldiers and air/spacecraft have begun to descend towards the ruined city…to complete its ordeal.

************************************************** ***************

Centurion Gundam and White Phoenix Gundam ease off on their forward thrusters and slow to an approach velocity of 40 knots. Through the thick, noxious haze, Jonah and Jolie can see a convoy…a half-dozen flatbed trucks, the same number of trailers, three vans, all escorted by a squad of six Federation-type mobile suits.

Jonah and Jolie also notice that the mobile suits are, without exception, older models…GM-IIs and GM-Cannon mobile suits dating to the era between the One Year War and the Gryps Conflict…and one single Guntank-II model. Each of the mobile suits has been modified for desert combat, painted the same dull tan as the desert sands around them. In lieu of beam weapons, these MS are outfitted with heavy chain guns and missile tubes.

“This is Captain Jonah Michaels and 1Lt. Jolie Minh of the Centurion Special Operations Team,” Jonah announces, setting his Centurion Gundam down on the planet’s surface as Jolie does the same with the White Phoenix Gundam, “are you the men of the ‘Desert Dogs?’ Which one of you is Master Sergeant Cunningham Tanaka?”

For a moment, there is no response from any member of the convoy, which including the drivers of the trucks, numbers twenty-one men, all ragged, weathered veterans by the looks of them.

The hatch of the driver’s cockpit of the Guntank-II, located in the treaded mobile suit’s midsection, swings open. A tall, beefy man, easily the same height as the familiar MSgt. Karim Abdul Al-Said, but broader of chest and shoulders, emerges. Clad in a khaki normalsuit, he removes his helmet to reveal a rugged face that has seen dozens of savage battles. His black crew cut is as rigid as his stance.

Transferring his helmet from his hands to the crook of his arm in a precise, well-honed manner, the grim-faced Master Sergeant Cunningham Tanaka marches towards the Special Forces officers. Jonah and Jolie can tell by the NCO’s walk that he is a mighty man in both body and spirit.

MSgt. Tanaka stops in front of Jonah and Jolie and salutes the two officers, “Captain Michaels, 1Lt. Minh: MSgt. Cunningham Tanaka of the 8th Battalion, 15th MS Corps, 3rd Army Earth Federation Forces, codenamed ‘Desert Dogs,’ reporting for duty, sir and ma’am!”

Jonah returns the salute, “At ease, Sergeant. Are these the only survivors from your unit?”

“Sir,” Tanaka replies, “these are the only survivors we’ve been able to confirm. We only had a few hours to act after learning of the colony’s descent. We’d heard that it would make impact near Whampoa Base, but somehow, it was landed here.”

Jonah and Jolie look sheepishly at one another, and then Jonah turns to Tanaka again, “That was our doing, I’m afraid to say, Sergeant. Colony California was on a trajectory to make landfall over the Shanghai/Whampoa area, but 1Lt. Minh and I diverted its landing site. I regret to say we failed in our planned endeavor to keep the colony in orbit.”

“With all due respect, sir,” the towering master sergeant replies, “it was far more important that Whampoa Base and the capital be saved than our remote base station. Do you have any word on what happened to the base and the city, sir?”

Jonah shakes his head glumly, “We lost contact with them while we attempted to divert the colony. We haven’t been able to reestablish contact through all the interference caused by the downing of the colonies.”

“My recon man got word at 14:03 that Shanghai might have been hit by a tsunami caused by another colony going down near Japan,” Tanaka says, “We’re still trying to confirm that.”

Jolie and Jonah’s eyes widen in horror...their teammates on the Centurion Team…General Noah…the tens of millions who live in or near the capital!

“We have to try to make our way back there,” Jonah says resolutely.

“It’s over two-thousand kilometers southwest of here, sir,” Tanaka points out, “through desert, mountains, forests. Even under the best conditions, sir, we’d be looking at a two week journey with our MS and vehicles. Now we’ve got this impact ash to deal with too…”

“And the Zeon Forces,” Jolie points out, “You know they’re not gonna just settle for letting the colonies themselves do all the work. They’re gonna come down with their MS and their troops to occupy the planet.”

“That’s very likely,” Jonah agrees, “and if that is the case, then it’s imperative we make our way back to Shanghai as quickly as we can.”

“Captain Michaels, sir,” Tanaka says, “with your permission, sir: my unit would like to join you.”

Jonah and Jolie smile at Tanaka and his “Desert Dogs,” and Jonah nods his assent, “We’ve already counted you in. We’re not Earthnoids; we’re going to need your help making our way across the continent.”

“Yes, sir!” Tanaka replies with enthusiasm, then, he asks, “Sir…if I’m not out of line, I want to ask: is 1Lt. Minh the ‘White Phoenix’ we’ve heard so much about?”

“The one and only,” Jolie affirms with a grin, “So you guys have heard of me even out here in Mongolia, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tanaka says, “we’ve heard a lot during the past two years about the Special Forces’ missions out in deep space. Your unit…Centurions…you were originally under the command of Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz, weren’t you? The one who was later found to be the Duchess of Zeon?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Jonah confirms, “Lt. Col. Ibaz was our original commanding officer.”

“The Lieutenant Colonel was a traitor,” Tanaka says coolly.

Jolie’s eyes light up with anger, “You take that back! ‘Thena wasn’t any traitor!”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Tanaka continues, “Lt. Col. Ibaz turned against her comrades, you and your team, and helped the ISRLA pull off the theft of Federation property.”

“You stupid ox!” Jolie rages, “You don’t know half of what went on up there! The Zeon were gonna use that…!”

Jonah gets between Jolie and Tanaka, separating the two before the dispute comes to blows (and Jonah knows that despite Tanaka’s size, strength, and fighting experience, Jolie would likely kill the man if it came down to a fight), “1Lt. Minh, MSgt. Tanaka…both of you stop it! We have a mission to accomplish, and we don’t have time or energy to waste fighting each other!”

“Yes, sir, Captain,” Tanaka says in a tone that indicates a willingness to concede to Jonah’s authority, but not his point about the former Athena Ibaz.

Jolie backs off and seethes silently, fixing the beefy master sergeant in a vicious glare.

Jonah gets everyone focused back on the objective, “We’ve gotta move out now.”

“We have to wait for this dust to clear a bit first,” Tanaka says, “Maybe a few days. We’ll just get lost out there otherwise, sir.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jonah replies, surveying the darkening skies, “you understand this environment much better than 1Lt. Minh or I do. What do you recommend?”

“We have to find a place to camp out for the night,” Tanaka says, “get our bearings, get oriented…and come up with some kind of plan to make our way to the capital. Fight our way there, if we have to.”

“You’ll have to, all right,” Jolie says, her anger having subsided, “That much I can promise you.”

“Sergeant,” Jonah says, “get your men together. We’ll move out to locate a suitable campsite.”

Tanaka salutes, “Yes, sir,” then turns to his squad, whose members he addresses with a mighty bellow, “Captain Michaels and 1Lt. Minh are leading us to defend the capital! Are we with them?”

The Desert Dogs answer in the affirmative with frightfully loud howls, sounding literally like a pack of wild desert dogs on the hunt.

Tanaka smiles at Jolie and Jonah, “That means ‘yes,’ Captain.”

“All right, then,” Jonah says, “Desert Dogs: let’s move out!”

The convoy heads due south, towards the Kunlun Mountains of eastern central China.

************************************************** **************

Thousands of kilometers to the southwest in Shanghai, the catastrophe of skyfall and tsunami is further compounded by an invasion by Zeon bomber craft and mobile suit legions.

On the seawater-flooded streets of what had, only a day earlier, been a thriving metropolis, the Earth Federation Special Forces fight valiantly, but futilely against the advancing Archduchy of Zeon Occupation Forces, which vastly outnumber the pitiable remnants of resistance in Shanghai.

2Lt. Chieming Noah extracts a grenade from the backpack of her Jet Jegan, lobbing it in the direction of a squad of Gellond-Terra units firing their beam rifles towards the outcroppings of rubble where the Special Forces have chosen to make their stand. That eliminates a pair of Zeon MS, but six more arrive to replace them.

MSgt. Karim Abdul Al-Said and MSgt. Tomo Higashi arrive with their Guncannon-100 mobile suits, laying down a heavy volume of fire from their shoulder-mounted cannon.

The Zeon Forces, however, are simply too numerous, too well-equipped, too endowed with EVERY advantage.

General Noah’s voice comes through to the Special Forces from the Amuro Ray, which itself is engaged in combat with several Zeon bomber craft high above the city, “Attention all Federal Forces units: withdraw from the Shanghai/Whampoa area immediately!”

Agreeing with her father’s judgment, Chieming issues the order to the Special Forces units, “You heard the general, people! We’re withdrawing! Move out, now! Watch your backs, and cover for each other as you pull out!”

The last of the Federal Forces units withdraw to the Amuro Ray, which pulls away from the Earth Federation’s destroyed capital, trailing pursuing Zeon Forces.

Moments later, the tattered, scorched, and bedraggled remains of the Earth Federation Government’s flag, still aloft the Federation government headquarters building, is removed from its place by normalsuited Archduchy of Zeon soldiers. In its place, the Zeon flag rises.

All around, a scene of devastating unlike any other seen in human history.

************************************************** ***************

From the bridge of the Cassius, high above the scene of ruin, Archduke Alexander Miguel surveys it all with satisfaction.

And so it has begun, Miguel reflects, the Earth will be rendered barren…purified of the decadence and corruption of those degenerates who have exploited her and ruled her too long. Now, a new day can begin on Earth…where the Chosen People of Zeon can take root and make this world the glorious place it is meant to be.

Ashes to ashes…

To be continued in Episode 34!

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 35: VENUS, MARS, AND MINERVA

The island of Formosa (also called Taiwan) off the coast of China has, for centuries, been a small parcel of land that has played a surprisingly large role as a military and political pivot point of some notoriety. During imperial China’s Qing Dynasty, it became the stronghold of the fallen Ming Dynasty’s loyalists, from which those loyalists conducted an ultimately futile resistance for several decades after the Ming had fallen. Similarly, three-hundred years later, Taiwan became the refuge of the Nationalist Kuomintang Chinese Republic after it was driven from mainland China by Mao’s Communists in 1949 of the old Gregorian calendar. From Taiwan, the Nationalists held out for decades before ultimately becoming the flashpoint of an East Asian regional conflict that grew into a global war during the first half of the 21st Century.

And now, at the beginning of the Second Universal Century, Taiwan once again finds itself as the last refuge of a regime in exile…this time, the Earth Federation Government.

The tsunami that engulfed Japan and the coastal cities of China after the splashdown of Colony Oahu did not spare Taiwan. Taipei lies in flooded ruins, as do Tokyo/Yokohama, Shanghai, and Hong Kong. The Earth Federation Forces’ Taiwan Base, however, was constructed far beneath the island itself, in environmentally fortified and isolated subterranean chambers designed to resist the effects of a global assault from orbit. The site, codenamed the “Holy Sepulcher,” (official designation: Base Site 31) was built for the specific purpose of housing what remained of the Earth Federation Government and its military forces in the event of a catastrophic attack on Earth. First constructed a quarter century ago when the era of cosmic warfare began, it was hoped that it would never need to be used.

That hope is dead.

The President of the Earth Federation Government, approximately sixty-five percent of the Legislative and Deliberative Assemblies, and nine of the fifteen High Court Justices were rescued with their families and brought to the relative safety of the Holy Sepulcher. The base site also hosts the 8th Army Corps, the Federal Forces' final line of defense, and has fortified its position with the addition of surviving forces from the abandoned Whampoa Base.

General Bright Noah is in conference with President Gloria Brenner and Defense Minister Jools Rowle, gathering whatever information is available to them about the damage that the Zeon have inflicted upon the world outside the Sepulcher.

“Reconnaissance reports tell us mostly the same thing,” Bright says grimly, “the devastation is global in nature. Our climatologic, geologic, and ecologic consultants tell us that we’re looking at a minimum of three years before conditions on the planet even begin to restore themselves to normal. Full ecological balance will not be recovered during the lifetime of anyone alive today.”

President Brenner sighs deeply, “And yet, the Archduchy of Zeon has seen fit to post a fairly large occupation force on each continent.”

Bright nods, “They want this planet, ruined as it is. We have unconfirmed data that the Zeon have begun systematic elimination of the remaining population on the surface that managed to survive the immediate catastrophe. The conditions that the Zeon created through the colony drops would have ensured that result within a year or two maximum anyway, but Archduke Miguel appears to be in a hurry to use what remains of the planet…for what purpose, we can only speculate.”

Defense Minister Rowle asks, “General, do we have any foothold from which we can mount a counterattack?”

Bright shakes his head, “None at all, sir. We’d be hard pressed simply to defend this position should the Zeon discover it and decide to attack it. A counterattack isn’t feasible given our situation.”

Brenner removes her glasses and rubs her eyes wearily, saying in a low voice, “Then there’s no hope.”

Bright looks meaningfully at the President of the Earth Federation Government.

Brenner turns to Bright, “General?”

Bright says quietly, “Madame President, the colonies of the Outer Solar System remain, as far as we know, free of Zeon control.”

“The Shambala Republic,” Brenner says, her voice hardly a whisper, “They’re barely organized. Can they help us?”

“More importantly, will they?” Rowle interjects, “Shambala isn’t much different from Zeon, except they’re less well armed. They’re Spacenoid terrorists. If anything, I’d suspect that Shambala is helping the Zeon consolidate control over the Outer System right now.”

“Minister Rowle,” Bright says evenly, “the Shambala Republic stands to lose as much as we have if Zeon prevails. Their leaders know that. Whether or not they have an interest or stake in ‘helping’ the Earth Federation, it’s reasonable to believe that they will oppose the Zeon. Don’t forget: Dr. Artasia Daikun and Minerva Zabi were the ones who alerted us to the colony drop attack, although not in time for us to do anything to avert the catastrophe. We’ll need to establish an alliance with them if we’re to stand any chance of striking back against the Zeon and retaking control of Earth…so that we can begin the long process of rebuilding it.”

“If that’s the case,” President Brenner queries, “how are we going to reach out to them without attracting the attention of the Zeon?”

“We can send an envoy to discuss the terms of an alliance with them,” Bright says, “That envoy will be Senator Mirai Yashima-Noah…my wife.”

President Brenner and Defense Minister Rowle mull that proposal over. Among the casualties of the government apparatus in Shanghai was Foreign Minister Charles Bertrand. Given the present state of extreme emergency, replacing the Foreign Minister has not been at the forefront of the remaining Federation government’s priorities, but now…

President Brenner says, “General, could you please summon Senator Yashima-Noah immediately?”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the end of the same day, SSgt. Anna Horowitz of the Centurion Team locates the team’s provisional commanding officer, 2Lt. Chieming Noah, at the makeshift MS hangar built into the cavernous bowels of the Holy Sepulcher.

A breathless Anna inquires of the daughter of Bright and Mirai Noah, “Hey, Chieming! Have you heard that your mom is going to be sent to Jupitorius to discuss an alliance with the Shambala Republic?”

Chieming smiles, “Your intel is a little late this time, Anna. Yeah, I heard a few hours ago. The trick is getting Mom…I’m sorry, Senator Yashima-Noah across enemy lines…VERY BROAD enemy lines. We have only two space cruisers here at the Sepulcher that can reach the Outer System. One is the President’s long-range passenger cruiser, the Centennial Condor, and the other is the Amuro Ray. Naturally, nobody here is crazy enough to think that the Zeon would let the ships escape Earth’s atmosphere…let alone make the voyage all the way to Jupitorius.”

Anna’s hands curl into fists of frustration, “I wish Athena were here…and Jonah and Jolie. If they were all here, they’d be able to come up with something…”

“Yeah, but the reality is that they aren’t here,” Chieming says, “Athena is one of the people that Mo…that Senator Noah will be seeing at Jupitorius, but it’s up to us in the Special Forces to see that she gets there.”

“But how?” Anna demands, “Is it even possible for a ship to get off of Earth right now?”

“We’ll know in a few more days,” Chieming says, “Dr. Loren of the Federal Climatologic Institute believes that five days from now, we’ll have a window of about forty minutes when the atmospheric conditions above Taiwan will settle down just enough for us to launch two spacecraft. It’ll be risky, but it’ll be the only shot we have.”

Anna frowns, “You know, for someone whose mom is going to be going on a very dangerous voyage in a few days, you sound strangely unworried.”

Chieming smiles bitterly, “If I let my worries rule my actions, I’d have been fitted for a straitjacket and sent to a nice, padded room a long time ago. Yeah, I’m worried for my mom, Anna,…and for my dad…my brother…Jonah…Jolie…Athena…and all of us. In fact, I’m downright scared and I’m not afraid to admit it. But scared or not, we have to act. An entire world of scared people is depending on us.”

Anna laughs, “Spoken like a leader of men and women.”

Chieming shrugs, “I’m the daughter of two of the best leaders in the world today: there are expectations I’m obliged to meet.”


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Many millions of kilometers away, at the Anaheim Enterprises’ manufacturing hub colony in Jupiter orbit, appropriately named Colony Arsenal, hundreds of new Nemo VII and Javelin mobile suits are being rushed into production. Over the past month, Anaheim has produced two-thousand mobile suits for the Shambala Republic Defense Guard, with a target production total of five-thousand combat-ready units by summer’s end.

Colony Arsenal was jointly established by Anaheim Enterprises and the Jupitorius Corporation a decade earlier for the purpose of providing a manufacturing bulwark to supply the Earth Federation Forces and the Jupitorius Zeon Forces. Originally, Colony Arsenal was primarily dedicated to manufacturing combat peripherals – support ships, mobile weapons systems, ordnance, etc., with only a relatively small part of its operations dedicated to the manufacture of mobile suits. With the loss of Anaheim’s main manufacturing facilities on Earth’s moon to Zeon national control, and the urgent need for mobile suits and other weaponry by the Shambala Defense Guard, Colony Arsenal has been rapidly converted to a full mobile weapons platform manufacturing center with greatly expanded facilities.

Minerva Zabi, Director of Strategic Operations for the Shambala Republic, observes the manufacturing process gravely, her active and nimble mind already devising a plan for streamlining the production process. The beautiful honey-blonde former Duchess of Zeon’s attention is suddenly drawn high above her by the arrival of two new mobile suits, not of the general Nemo or Javelin designs, that are being lowered by heavy cranes to the pre-testing inspection deck.

The two mobile suits are Dr. Camille Vidan’s newest designs, the Kizi Aslan and the Oglu Aslan…high performance transformable combat mobile suits directly descended from the Cour de Leon model that Minerva knows so well. The Aslan-series mobile suit, of which the Kizi (custom painted brilliant scarlet) and the Oglu (painted forest green) are thus far the only existent prototypes, have expanded upon the Cour de Leon design with a fifty-percent increase of thruster output, an enhanced biosensor system, and new additional weapons systems, all derived from insights that Dr. Vidan gained while designing and constructing the White Phoenix Gundam.

It’s been fewer than two months, Minerva reflects, but it feels like another lifetime that I last piloted a mobile suit into combat. In a sense, it was indeed another lifetime…

Hathaway Noah notes the ever-pensive Minerva lost in thought as he approaches her on the observation catwalk. He places his arms comfortingly around her, kissing her on the cheek.

Minerva looks back at Hathaway with a smile, “We’ll be taking the new units out for a shakedown flight at 14:00. Ready for action…Mafty?”

Hathaway leans his chin atop Minerva’s scalp, replying mischievously, “Ready if you are, Athena Ibaz.”

Mafty…Athena Ibaz…the names of ghosts.

“I wasn’t expecting to pilot a mobile suit into combat again,” Minerva confesses, “especially not so soon.”

“No matter what lofty ideals we aspire to,” Hathaway observes, “in the end, it seems, we always have to enforce them through the point of a gun.”

“So it’s always been,” Minerva affirms resignedly.

To be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 35 continued...

An hour later, Minerva and Hathaway, clad in normalsuits (the same colors as their respective mobile suits), receive a final preflight briefing from Dr. Camille Vidan before taking the new experimental mecha on their shakedown flights.

“One feature we’ve incorporated into the Aslan-series mobile suits is the ability to cast multiple false ID signatures,” Camille explains, “Enemy tracking devices will identify many more targets than are actually present…and at locations far from where the Aslan units are actually situated at any given time. This is ideal for decoy operations; it’ll throw off enemy defenses.”

“That’ll prove useful,” Minerva remarks, “What about its limitations?”

Camille says, “Most of the power limitations you might have encountered in the Cour de Leon have been adjusted; the Aslan’s power output for non-thrust functions can match that of the Centurion Gundam, although it falls short of the White Phoenix Gundam.”

“It’s well suited to our purposes,” Minerva remarks, pulling her helmet on and sealing her normalsuit’s O-Ring collar as she steps towards scarlet-bodied mobile suit, idling in its graceful, aerodynamic Waverider configuration.

Minerva boards the Kizi Aslan (SRX-6S). The cockpit layout is remarkably similar to that of the Cour de Leon, with a few new features thrown in. For the most part, however, Minerva finds it to be very familiar.

Minerva reaches upward with her cybernetic left hand (the first time she has used it in piloting a mobile suit), flipping the switches that bring the Kizi Aslan’s avionics systems to life. She then places that same left hand on the Kizi’s throttle, feeling the powerful throbbing of the mobile suit’s nuclear fusion engine behind her cockpit seat.

Hathaway Noah’s normalsuited and helmeted image appears on the upper right corner of the forward monitor screen, “Minerva, it’s been two months since you’ve logged any combat hours in a MS cockpit. Take it easy up there.”

“I’ll be counting on you to back me up if I run into anything unexpected,” Minerva says, closing her helmet visor.

“Roger that,” replies Hathaway, doing the same aboard the cockpit of his verdant-hued Oglu Aslan (SRX-6J), which is being conveyed via hydraulic lift system to the catapult launch deck.

“Minerva Zabi, Kizi Aslan, deploying from Deck A-7 at 300 knots!”

A burst of thrust, and the Kizi Aslan soars amidst the stars.

“Hathaway Noah, Oglu Aslan, deploying from Deck A-8 at 300 knots!”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Test targets approach…drone Hizacks, Marasais, GM-IIs, and Nemos left over from the Gryps Conflict and the First Neo Zeon War.

“Targets acquired,” Minerva says with the same cool efficiency she evinced when she was Athena Ibaz, commanding officer of the Centurion Special Operations Team, “Weapons systems to combat mode.”

“Roger,” Hathaway replies, “Combat mode engaged.”

“Five targets acquired. I have target-lock on,” Minerva continues, “Fox-Three.”

Five missiles rip forth from launch tubes affixed to the Kizi Aslan’s wing modules. Eight seconds later, three GM-IIs and two Hizacks explode into shrapnel.

A sixth mobile suit, a Marasai seems to get the drop on Minerva, gunning at the Kizi Aslan with its beam rifle.

Minerva casually dodges the incoming fire, shifts the Kizi to mobile suit configuration, and in a single motion, draws the Kizi Aslan’s beam rifle to immolate the Marasai with a single shot.

“Not bad,” Hathaway enthuses, “Looks like you haven’t lost your edge...”

Hathaway then notices the approach of a Nemo, the muzzle of its beam rifle aglow. Minerva will not be able maneuver the Kizi Aslan out of the way in time.

Fortunately, Hathaway fragmentizes the Nemo with a shot of the Oglu Aslan’s beam rifle before the drone can do any damage.

“…for the most part,” Hathaway amends, with a sigh of relief that paradoxically carries a tone of concern.

“It’ll take time for the rust to come off,” Minerva observes sourly, “Until then, thanks for watching my back.”

“Back, front, top, bottom,” Hathaway replies, “No way I’m letting anyone or anything get through to hurt you, Minerva.”

Behind her darkened helmet visor, Minerva smiles, her heart warmed by Hathaway’s complete devotion to her.

We’re really two of a kind in more ways than either of us is comfortable with, Minerva reflects, Other than Char, only Hathaway has ever really understood…

But there is no more time for such reflection; a second wave of test drones, this one fifteen MS strong, approaches.

“Fifteen incoming targets,” Minerva reports, her active mind instantly reverting to combat mode, “This time, let’s pretend that our piloting skills are unremarkable and let Dr. Vidan’s tracker scrambling device do the work.”

“Roger,” Hathaway replies, fingering the touch control that brings the device online.

At first, there is no notable change…nothing to affirm that the system is functioning at all except for the indicators that appear on the systems monitors of the two Aslan-class mobile suits.

Then, it happens.

The drone mobile suits cease to direct their fire at the Aslans, and instead redirect their fire towards all vectors except for where the Aslans are…in some cases, directing their fire at each other as if allies were enemies.

“Doc’s device has them completely fooled,” Hathaway remarks, “The false signatures we’re sending out are ‘pasting’ themselves on their own allied units, causing them to attack each other while thinking they’re attacking the enemy.”

“It’s not going to work so well on units piloted by actual human beings,” Minerva notes, “and it’s definitely not going to fool a Newtype. Still, if it functions as it should, it’ll confuse the enemy just enough for us to do what we need to.”

“Which is…?” Hathaway inquires.

“You’ll learn soon enough,” Minerva says cryptically.


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That evening, after the successful conclusion of the Aslans’ test flight (the data from which will be analyzed carefully by Dr. Camille Vidan and his team of Anaheim Skunkworks’ engineers), Minerva and Hathaway are in a strategy conference with Dr. Artasia Daikun and Dory Ischinda. Also present at the meeting, at Artasia and Minerva’s request, are Judau Ashta, his wife Lu Luka-Ashta, Mondo Agake, Eno Abbov, and Elle Viano-Olech, wife of Captain Beecher Olech, commanding officer of the Earth Federation Forces space battlecarrier Amuro Ray and mother of Beecher's infant daughter, Athena (named after Minerva’s Federal Forces alter-ego).

“According to our analysts, the mining facilities on Mars could be made operable again, to a very limited extent, within two months assuming that our corporate supporters throw all of their resources behind the effort. Restoring full production capacity, however, will take years,” Dr. Artasia Daikun says, “I’d like to know the reasoning underlying your plan for seizing those facilities, which the Federal Forces destroyed nearly a year ago. In fact, you were the officer who masterminded and led that operation, if I recall correctly, Minerva.”

Minerva replies, “My objective then was to destroy the Martian mining facilities to deny them to the Zeon Forces, and the dividends of that mission became manifest at the end of the Zeon Civil War. Our objectives now are similar: Alexander Miguel was able to afford losing those facilities because he had the support of the Earth Federation, but he’s made the mistake of cutting off his lifeline. He’s defeated the Federation, and as was undoubtedly his plan from the beginning, he’s looking to lay claim to the ore mines of Earth to supply the raw material for his war machine. Miguel, however, underestimated the survivability of those resources against his colony drop attacks. Miguel did too thorough a job for his own good: the Federation’s industrial infrastructure is broken and it’ll take years for the Zeon to make them serviceable again. We’ll cut the Zeon off from ore resources at two ends: they’ll be unable to obtain the raw material they need from both Earth AND on Mars. It’s important for us to keep the Zeon off-balance. If Miguel establishes a secure base in Cislunar Space, he’ll come after us next. Beyond his insatiable territorial ambitions, he needs our hydrogen fuel supplies, and he'd be all too willing to crush us to get it. Moreover, our production facilities are operating at maximum output, and though we have access to ample fuel supplies, our raw ore stocks are close to depletion point. You’re right in that there won’t be ample time to get these facilities into full production status in the immediate future, but having them under our control now, while we can obtain them at relatively low cost, will pay off in the long-term viability of the republic.”

Artasia nods approvingly, “All right, I’m sold on your reasoning behind the purpose of the mission. Now, as far as execution of the strategy…”

“Yes,” Minerva says, anticipating the question, “Miguel has directed the vast bulk of his military forces to Earth and the Cislunar Sphere. He’s left only a token force behind out in the Martian orbit that was once his stomping grounds. He’s outgrown his roots, or so he believes. A special infiltration force, which will include many of the personnel in this room, should be sufficient to execute the plan…especially with the advantage provided to us by Dr. Vidan’s new target signature simulator device, which has been installed into our mobile suits.”

“It’s been a long, long time since I’ve sat at the controls of the Double Zeta,” Judau enthuses, “I never thought I’d miss it, but I have.”

The infamous “Shangrila Gang” that had been so instrumental to winning the First Neo Zeon War for the Earth Federation/AEUG Alliance in U.C. 0089 eagerly volunteered to support the fledgling Shambala Republic, and to facilitate them, Anaheim Enterprises has built new, improved units of their familiar mobile suits from that war: MSZ-010 ZZ Gundam (Judau, Lu, and Eno), MSZ-006 Z Gundam (Dr. Camille Vidan), RX-178 Gundam MK-II (Mondo). The "Gundam Team" will support Minerva and Hathaway’s new Aslan mobile suits and a small strike force of Javelin Stealth MS.

“We’ve acquired an infiltration ship from our friends in the Jupitorius Corporation,” Minerva says, refocusing the discussion on the means of executing the Shambala guerrillas’ plans, “All personnel assigned to this mission will depart from the Jupitorius colonies at 01:00 tomorrow morning…"


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A Jupitorius Corporation fuel tanker, the Mapother, a mammoth cargo vessel 500 meters long, has been converted into a blockade runner of sorts…appearing as an innocuous and somewhat ponderous cargo vessel, but in fact a veritable battle fortress bearing a cargo of eighteen Shambala Republic Guard mobile suits.

At precisely 01:00, as specified by Minerva, the Mapother departs from the docks of the Jupitorius Colony’s industrial spaceport, with a manifest showing its final destination, by way of Mars, to be Side 1...with a delivery of hydrogen fuel for the now Zeon-occupied colony.

All very routine…and all very unremarkable…a journey that the Mapother has made on dozens of occasions in the past, uneventfully and perhaps even dully.

Not this time, however…

It is past 02:30 (ship’s time, synchronized with Jupitorius local time) by the time that the shadow crew of the ship is settled into their quarters. Living space is plentiful aboard the ship, although for efficiency purposes, the crew has been bunked two per suite.

An arrangement that is particularly well-suited to the couples aboard…


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Hathaway drops wearily upon the bed in the cabin that he shares with Minerva, exhausted to the bone. Between the testing of the Aslan units (which AE had delivered literally at the last possible minute) and preparation for departure, Hathaway has been up and active for over thirty-five hours.

Nobody ever said that life as a revolutionary was cushy…Hathaway reminds himself as he rubs his eyes tiredly.

When he removes his hands and opens his eyes, he finds a sight that makes everything…everything worthwhile.

Minerva’s strikingly curvaceous, naked form moves gracefully towards the bed…an electrifying sight whose thrill has not diminished the slightest for Hathaway even in its increasing familiarity.

Hathaway’s weariness transforms into a sensation of sublime comfort and ecstasy as Minerva’s warm, feathery weight settles upon him. Her fair, downy hair falls softly down around his face as their lips lock into a deep, passionate kiss.

Hathaway’s fingers play upon the warmth of Minerva’s breasts, his hands then caressing her silky smooth skin down the length of her body towards the twin mounds of her buttocks, which Hathaway massages for a long minute as his lips and Minerva’s remain locked in their kiss. Hathaway’s hands then find their way down the warm, silky length of Minerva’s thighs before resting momentarily upon her shoulders, and down the length of her arms...both her natural right arm, and her cybernetic left arm.

Hathaway has been long amazed by the excellent surgical skill of Dr. Artasia Daikun, and by how far the state of cybernetic prosthetic technology has advanced. The connection between the flesh of Minerva’s left shoulder and the silicon and lunar titanium of her bionic left arm is virtually seamless, and the arm itself duplicates the graceful feminine contours of Minerva’s lost organic left arm with remarkable accuracy...except for its cold metallic touch…and its dark grey metallic sheen. Skin grafts to mask these features are available, but Minerva has declined them…preferring to let the bionic arm stand as a reminder of what she continues to struggle against.

Hathaway holds Minerva close, reflecting upon his attitude towards the war. Once, not long ago, he was dogged by a sense of self-pity for the various hardships he has endured as a consequence of this war, but Minerva…Minerva has given so much more to this war than he has…the loss of her arm being only the most manifest among them. The true wounds, the ones that produce the most enduring pain, are the ones that remain unseen.

For this reason, among others, Hathaway has a message of utmost importance to convey to Minerva tonight.

As if to ready Minerva for his momentous declaration, Hathaway rolls over to turn Minerva onto her back on the bed. Hathaway knows that Minerva prefers to be on top of him during lovemaking (as she does in almost every situation, including those not at all sensual), but this time, he wants to be sure that the upper hand is his.

But Hathaway notices a distant look in Minerva’s eyes as she turns away from him, focusing on something else…far away.

“What is it?” Hathaway asks, concerned.

“I’m worried,” Minerva whispers, “I’m worried about my friends…Jolie, Jonah, and the other Centurions. We lost contact with them after the colony drop attacks on Earth. I’m so afraid that they might…”

“I know,” Hathaway says, frowning, “My sister Chieming, my mother, and…my father…to say nothing of all those other innocent people on Earth. The planet must be like Hell now. God help those souls who are still trapped down there.”

“For them, and for so many others, we must succeed in our mission,” Minerva says.

“You’re right,” Hathaway says, his hands gently massaging Minerva’s breasts again, “Minerva, I...”

Minerva turns back towards Hathaway, sensing that he has something of great importance to tell her. The young couple looks into each other’s eyes quietly, passionately for a long moment before Hathaway speaks again…

“Minerva,” Hathaway whispers at long last, “…will you marry me?”

Hathaway’s proposal does not exactly catch Minerva off-guard…practically nothing does, but her radiant smile and moist eyes…the accelerated beating of Minerva’s heart that Hathaway feels through the palms of his hand…reflect the genuine joy of a wish at long last fulfilled.

“Hathaway,” Minerva chokes out at last, and then whispers, “Yes…I very much want to be your wife.”

Hathaway smiles broadly, and their lips interlock once again.

“There is one condition I need you to agree to, however,” Minerva says when their lips are free once more.

“What condition?” Hathaway asks, knowing that his bride-to-be is always calculating an angle.

“I need for us to defer our marriage for three years,” Minerva says.

“Why?” Hathaway inquires, not letting his impatience show.

“That’s the amount of time I think we’ll need to finish this war and get the Shambala Republic on its feet,” Minerva says, “Hathaway, I know it’s hard to wait. I don’t want to wait either. If this were a safer, more stable world, I’d marry you tomorrow. But I don’t want to fight forever. I don’t want to lead people forever. My entire life, I’ve been fighting…been leading. There was a time, not long ago, when I thought I had dedicated my entire life to changing the world. I’m not as ambitious these days. I only want to change the world enough so it’ll be safe for you and I to spend the rest of our lives together…to have children and raise them together…to see them grow up to live long, peaceful lives. Do you understand, Hathaway?”

Hathaway fingers Minerva’s downy hair gently, fondly, “Yes…yes, I do, Minerva, and I agree. Three years isn’t so long to wait…not when we have our entire lives ahead of us...Minerva Zabi-Noah…wife and mother, eh?”

Minerva smiles at her husband-to-be’s gentle chiding, “Like I said, my ambitions are more modest these days: right now, Minerva, wife and mom, sounds much more appealing to me than Duchess Minerva of Zeon, or Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of the Earth Federation Special Operations Forces, or Minerva Zabi, Director of Operations for the Shambala Republic. I know who I’ve been, Hathaway, and I know whom I really want to be.”

So saying, Minerva rolls to flip Hathaway onto his back, straddling his prone form with her long, luscious legs. Hathaway has never ceased to be surprised by the strength Minerva has hidden in her sylphlike form.

Hathaway’s hands caress Minerva’s buttocks, hips, and thighs as they kiss once again. Hathaway dims the lights within the cabin as, for a few hours at least, the husband and wife-to-be allow the troubles of the world around them disappear.

Episode 35 to be continued...