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

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 48 continued...

Dozens of kilometers away, the Centurion Team and other Special Forces units are locked in pitched combat against mobile suits from the attacking Zeon Armada. Captain Jonah Michaels and his troops’ orders are to penetrate the Zeon advance and enter the massive former colony cylinders of the Celesial Light System…to destroy the Zeons’ instruments of mass catastrophe before they can be deployed against the United Forces again.

But the tide of Zeon mobile suits and ships seems limitless and relentless. Despite the skill and valiance of the United Forces’ troops, they can make no headway towards their objective, and are increasingly struggling to hold the line against the advancing Zeon Forces.

Jonah opens communications to Captain Chad DeLaRosa of the La Kaelum-II, “Captain DeLaRosa, we’re not going to be able to hold this position indefinitely. We’re going to need reinforcements.”

“Negative, Captain Michaels,” DeLaRosa replies, “Calling in reinforcements means concentrating our forces. General Noah and Lt. Col. McKenzie specified that under no circumstances can we concentrate our forces together.”

Jonah sighs, “Understood, Captain. We’ll hold this perimeter.”

Jonah understands the logic of General Noah and Lt. Col. McKenzie’s reasoning (which Jonah is sure was vetted if not conceived by his former commanding officer, Minerva Zabi: it is the same logic that informed Jolie’s suggestion to have her meet the Black Raven while Jonah and the Special Forces dealt with the Zeon Armada.

Jolie…Jonah winces…be safe. Please be safe!

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

Jolie slowly, cautiously maneuvers the WPG through the dark and narrow confines of Solomon’s complex labyrinth of service corridors, the thrusters of her mobile suit held a paltry 10% output. It would be too risky to maneuver any faster than that…both because of the uncertain terrain and because the Black Raven might have an ambush prepared.

Likewise, it is unsafe for the WPG to use any of its weapons systems other than the beam saber, and even that entails significant risk.

For the moment, Jolie’s quarry has seemingly disappeared. Jolie can sense the Black Raven’s presence permeating throughout the space fortress, but cannot pinpoint it. Her enemy seems to be everywhere at once, confusing Jolie’s senses.

Ahead of Jolie is only pitch blackness and emptiness. The corridor cannot be more than a kilometer long, but at the moment, to Jolie, the distance seems effectively interminable…a path from nothingness to further nothingness.

But in less time than is needed for the human mind to comprehend the change, the nothingness is filled by a dozen avatars of obliteration.

Only after Jolie has hit 110% reverse thrust on the control yoke, pushing the WPG backwards through the narrow tunnel (approximately thirty meters high and twenty-five meters wide) is she able to positively identify the impending threat…one that turns her blood cold.

Hypernapalm missiles!

Hypernapalm, as intensely hot as the heart of the sun, capable of reducing even Gundarium armor to slag upon contact.

The WPG continues to blast back through the tunnel at extremely treacherous speeds, Jolie barely holding the mecha from colliding against the corridor’s walls, ceiling, and floor. The Hypernapalm-loaded missiles approach closer with each passing second. Jolie knows that even if she can get the WPG out of the tunnel and into open space, the missiles will likely catch her.


Aw, crap! Jolie thinks as she points her beam rifle downward, past the WPG’s feet, towards the advancing missiles, Only chance I’ve got.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, Jolie squeezes the trigger. The WPG unleashes a beam from its rifle that strikes the lead missile head-on.

An explosion follows so powerful that it tears the superstructure of the corridor to shreds. Armored bulkheads become melting walls of liquid star fire in an instant, and cold iron ore becomes flaming brimstone.

Oh, hell! Jolie thinks…appropriately.

The WPG is expelled from the corridor with bone-shattering force, trailing flame, spinning out of the control.

Jolie muscles the thrust and maneuvering sticks of the WPG, fighting desperately to stabilize her burning, careening mobile suit. Status indicators within the cockpit warn of extreme overheating on the external armor and loss of structural integrity. The WPG is barely holding together.

C’mon, C’MON! Dammit! Jolie grates, coaxing the WPG’s thrusters to return some semblance of control to her.

From the corner of her eye, Jolie spots the Gamma Azieru, its beam saber extended, bearing down upon her still-spinning WPG.

Twirling, tumbling, and still dangerously out of control, the WPG draws its beam saber, raising it just in time to intercept a vicious swing of the Gamma Azieru’s energy blade that comes perilously close to gutting the WPG.

Ironically, the force of the impact finally slows the WPG’s momentum, and its deadly spin begins to slow.

The Gamma Azieru extends its left arm to the side, disgorging two more Hypernapalm missiles. Instead of directing these missiles towards the WPG, however, the Azieru uses the missiles against the nearby, drifting wreck of a Moussei battlecruiser of One Year War vintage, the warheads exploding within the long-inactive warship’s nuclear fusion engine.

What had been a derelict a moment earlier has become a massive burning bludgeon, which the Gamma Azieru pushes towards the WPG.


Holy f*cking sh*t! Jolie’s eyes widen as she sees the burning mass approaching.

Jolie knows she does not have enough time…or enough power in the WPG’s engines to avoid impact with the flaming wreck. Despair washes over her for a moment until she remembers something Master Chang told her long ago…

Force cannot always be dissipated or avoided, but it can always be redirected.

The White Phoenix Gundam reaches out with its armored right hand, stabilization thrusters set at maximum output.

Jolie pushes forward with the WPG’s right hand as she carefully shifts the WPG’s thrust output, moving the mecha in a circle, guiding the mass of the burning Moussei along…not so much meeting its momentum as riding with it, and shifting it back towards its original angle of approach.

The burning Moussei turns, returning towards the Gamma Azieru.

How?! Kyoko marvels before directing the last of her Hypernapalm missiles to disintegrate the menacing, burning wreck.

Corkscrewing through the last burning vestiges of debris that were the Moussei, the Gamma Azieru transforms from MS to MA and back to MS configuration to launch a sweeping kick towards the White Phoenix Gundam’s head…making contact and putting out the WPG’s lateral cameras.

Jolie counters with a stream of fire from the WPG’s head-mounted Vulcan cannon, scoring a few hits on the Gamma Azieru’s extended right leg before blowing out and falling inoperable…too badly damaged by the Azieru’s kick to continue firing.

Jolie sees another open service corridor and dives the WPG in…needing to get away from her enemy for a minute or two to regain her footing and take stock of damage.

Where can you run? Where can you hide? Kyoko smirks, directing the Gamma Azieru to follow.

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

“Hold the line!” Jonah commands from the Centurion Gundam as he blasts another Nova Doga, “We can’t let them penetrate into Side 6!”

But Jonah’s orders are not so easily realized. The Zeon Forces have numbers, and are pushing the United Forces farther and farther back into the Side 6 Zone.

The normalsuited, helmeted visage of Minerva Zabi appears comfortingly on Jonah’s screen, “Jonah…hang in there. We’re coming.”

“Minerva…ma’am,” Jonah says, “We’re going to hold this position. Get to the colony laser! Disable it!”

“You read my mind,” Minerva answers, “That’s precisely where we’re headed.”

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

The White Phoenix Gundam has come to rest on the hull of a long decommissioned Gwadjin-class Zeon battlecruiser. The Gwadjin is but one of a dozen wrecks floating in a massive docking bay…one that still hosts numerous undeployed Zakus and Rick Doms of U.C. 0079 vintage.

Jolie runs the WPG’s combat computer through a quick diagnostic. The MS is heavily damaged. The thrusters will not fire at anything above 80% capacity, and only four of the six nozzles at that. Worse, Jolie has expended all of her MS’s missile supply, the Vulcan cannon are disabled, and the beam rifle has only enough charge for two more shots.

Jolie senses the Black Raven’s approach from behind her. She hits the thruster forward.

The WPG’s engines fire, but the mecha fails to lift off.

“Dammit!” Jolie curses, “I’m magnetized stuck here!”

Jolie knows that she can escape the magnetic trap by inverting the magnetic polarity of the WPG’s own armor, but that would take at least thirty seconds, and she had…none.

The beam saber of the Gamma Azieru burns through the back of the WPG, which Jolie manages to twists just far enough aside so that the enemy’s beam blade misses the cockpit and vital systems. Still, the Azieru’s beam saber grazes the edge of the WPG’s engine/thruster pack, causing sparks to fly and smoke to leak…

Jolie gazes in horror at the gauges on the WPG’s screen indicate her mobile suit’s loss of power…80%....78%....74%....

Got to get out of here! Jolie thinks, panic creeping up her spine.

The combat computer indicates that external magnetic polarity of the WPG’s armor has been inverted. The WPG floats away from the Gwadjin…and the Gamma Azieru awaits.

Jolie launches the WPG in an aggressive, all out beam saber assault…which is met with almost contemptuous deftness by the Black Raven’s Gamma Azieru. The WPG continues to lose power and speed…54% and dropping.

Jolie uses one of her two remaining beam rifle blasts to blow an opening in the wall of the fortress…attempting to jet through the breach she creates.


No…no way out for you, Jolie Minh...Kyoko thinks coldly as she fires the Gamma Azieru’s beam rifle upward, bringing more flaming wreckage down upon the heavily damaged WPG.

Jolie succeeds in dodging the bulk of the wreckage, moving the WPG with deft and ginger grace despite energy output level dwindling to 46%.

But finally, the mass of an abandoned, damaged Zakurello mobile armor falls upon the WPG, pinning it down.

“Nyaaggrh!” Jolie strains, pushing the thrust stick forward, consuming most of what remains of the WPG’s strength to move the Zakurello’s mass off.

The WPG’s energy levels have dropped to 29%...warning indicators flash a dire message of complete power loss within three minutes.

The Gamma Azieru thrusts forth, putting the tip of its beam saber right to the WPG’s throat. Jolie presses the emitter of the WPG’s own deactivated beam blade directly against the cockpit hatch of her enemy’s mobile armor.

“Go to hell, Zeon b*tch!” Jolie snarls, thumbing the beam saber activator.

The WPG’s beam saber briefly emits a sputter of energy, scorching the surface of the Gamma Azieru cockpit hatch’s external armor, but doing no greater damage, before going dead and cold.

“Energy insufficient for beam saber activation,” Jolie’s monitor indicates.

“Damn!’ Jolie bites out, slamming her fist against the monitor.


What have I got left?

Two Psychomm Funnels still deployable.

Jolie deploys the Psychomm Funnels, which turn and fire…upon each other!

Kyoko is forced to back away from the ensuing explosion. When the glare and debris passes, Kyoko sees the WPG lying still on the docking bay floor…its cockpit hatch open, and the pilot’s seat empty.

In her peripheral vision, Kyoko sees the twin glow of a normalsuit thruster belt gradually disappearing into the distance.

Kyoko draws her sidearm and opens the hatch of the Gamma Azieru, drifting out and activating her own belt thrusters to continue pursuit of her prey…

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

In her Kizi Aslan, Minerva Zabi leads her crack force of Shambala Republic Defense Guard MS (including Hathaway Noah in his Oglu Aslan and Dory Ischinda in a Nemo VIIS) through the defensive screens of the Zeon Armada. They remain ten kilometers beyond their mobile suits’ effective firing range of the closer of the two massive CLPS units looming so ominously beyond the Side 6 perimeter.

Their defenses will be concentrated at the barrels of the weapons, where the weapons are most vulnerable, Minerva notes, If we can hit the reactor core mechanisms at the bottoms of the barrel, we can collapse the entire system. The enemy will pull out all the stops to prevent us from doing that…good.

Episode 48 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 48 continued...

Kyoko takes the dark, narrow corridor carefully, her sidearm held high in her right hand, near her right ear. She cautiously approaches an intersection with another corridor, and peers tentatively around a corner.

She ducks just in time to avoid a bullet whizzing through her helmet and embedding inside her brain.

Without rising, Kyoko fires back…the bullets creating sparks that provide enough brief illumination to reveal a tiny, feminine figure scrambling to the safety of darkness.

Kyoko swims forward through the low-gravity…sensing the White Phoenix…everywhere.

Small hands and slender arms grab Kyoko from behind, and a gun barrel is pressed against her chest. Likewise, Kyoko pushes her own gun barrel against Jolie’s abdomen.

Both young women pull the triggers simultaneously, determined to send the other to the devil even if it means condemning herself to the same doom.

Click. Click.

Kyoko and Jolie cast aside their spent firearms.

With an angry, feral cry, Kyoko thrusts the edge of her open hand towards Jolie’s neck. Jolie turns the blow aside with a circular motion.

The two youthful warriors exchange dozens of strikes and parries, Jolie landing a punch on Kyoko’s chest…Kyoko landing a chop in Jolie’s ribs.

In their respective memories, Kyoko and Jolie recall the lessons of Oshima-sensei and of Master Chang, respectively….their disparate, but equally effective martial philosophies: the relentless efficacy of the first strike versus the measured response of the fluid defense…encapsulated in elegant exchanges of fists that appears to be as much dance as combat.

Her patience spent, Kyoko draws out a combat knife from her normalsuit utility belt, thrusting it forward with malicious speed towards Jolie’s chest.

Jolie grabs Kyoko’s knife-wielding hand, snaking around the other young woman’s arm to hold off the deadly strike. As Jolie’s left hand strains to twist away Kyoko’s blade, Jolie’s right hand draws her own combat knife and slashes towards Kyoko’s thigh, cutting through normalsuit material and flesh, drawing blood.

Kyoko pulls her knife hand free, slashing in an arc to tear through Jolie’s upper right arm.

Blood leaks from their exposed normalsuits to coagulate in the low-gravity environment.

Jolie throws her blade at Kyoko, who dodges the incoming projectile and tackles Jolie to the ground, dropping her own knife the process. The two young women tumble across the metallic floor, rolling atop each other several times, each bent on claiming the life of the other.

Jolie puts her hands around Kyoko’s neck, squeezing with as much strength as the hatred in her heart can muster. Kyoko’s vision begins to blur.

Kyoko reaches out desperately. Her fingers find purchase around a length of metallic pipe, which she brings down upon Jolie’s helmet with deadly force.

The visor of Jolie’s helmet cracks. Jolie kicks Kyoko in the abdomen, hard, and activates her belt rockets…jetting back towards the abandoned WPG.

Kyoko follows suit…returning to the Gamma Azieru.

Jolie resumes the cockpit seat of the WPG. The combat computer indicates that the MS is now charged to 63% energy.

Jolie hardly enough time to strap in before the Gamma Azieru is on her…beam saber pressing towards her.

The White Phoenix Gundam brings up its remaining beam saber to block. The two MS are saber-locked.

“Energy level dropping…49%,” the WPG’s combat computer indicates.

Jolie knows that if the energy level drops below 30%, her beam saber will out again.

Have to…win this fight…NOW!

Jolie focuses her mind…gathering an energy within her…turning her thoughts…into a weapon.

Kyoko, sensing Jolie’s intent, responds in kind….

The Black Raven extends its cosmic wingspan…engulfing everything in darkness.

Jolie can no longer sense herself…she feels her consciousness…her awareness of herself…slipping away…disappearing into eternal oblivion. Jolie struggles against this encroaching obliteration, replacing it with utter terror…terror that accumulates, and transforms into rage.

In her mind’s eye, Jolie sees a lonely grave on a desolate expanse of wilderness on Earth…the grave of a child never born.

Joanie Athena Michaels…her daughter.

Jolie remembers the painful, exhausting sensation of pushing the dead fetus out of her womb, obscenely passing her Joanie's tiny, lifeless corpse from her body as if it were a mass of excrement instead of the child she and Jonah loved so dearly and yearned so painfully for.

Joanie…dead before she was born, because of this Black Raven…this avatar of death.

“YOU TOOK JOANIE FROM ME!!!” Jolie screams, her eyes aflame.

From deep within her soul, a fire hotter than that of the stars burns forth…converting to energy, assuming form…the form of a burning phoenix…screaming its rage across the cosmos.

Kyoko’s eyes widen as she feels a fire upon her brain…the electronic systems of the Gamma Azieru begin to burn out and shut down, overloaded by the massive influx of energy.

Thousands of volts of electricity rain down around Kyoko’s body, causing her to scream through the excruciating pain as blood trickles forth from her nose, mouth, and ears.

Tears cascade forth from Jolie’s eyes as a fiery glow envelopes both the WPG and the Gamma Azieru, expanding to incinerate the wreckage within the devastated docking bay.

And then…silence, stillness, darkness…no trace of the savage battle that ended a moment past.

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

“Minerva, we’re in range,” Dory informs the Deputy Director of the Shambala Republic.

“Roger, Dory,” Minerva replies, and then, “All units, open fire. Target: CLPS lateral and ventral thruster ports!”

Circumventing the legions of MS that the Zeon Forces have concentrated to meet the United Forces’ assault at the barrel of the Zeons’ massive weapon, the Shambala Republic MS direct their missile and beam fire towards the massive maneuvering thrusters alongside the colony cylinder…destroying or heavily damaging a dozen of these units across the cylinder.

“Confirm hits on CLPS maneuvering thrusters. Nine units destroyed, three heavily damaged,” Dory confirms.

“All forces retreat,” Minerva orders.

The Shambala MS squad retreats from the battle zone.

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

“How bad is the damage?” Commodore Markus Shaw of the Zeon Armada asks his bridge operators.

“Sir,” reports one of the techs, “the barrel and firing mechanisms of the CLPS are undamaged. Maneuvering thrusters have been disabled, however. We won’t be able to aim the weapon until we replace those thrusters.”

“Same story on Unit 2,” another tech pipes up, “The colony lasers are temporarily immobilized, Commodore.”

Shaw sighs, “This is sure to infuriate his Majesty.”

Having received word of the damage to the CLPS’s maneuvering systems, the Zeon Armada is ordered to retreat.

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

“Captain Michaels, do we pursue?” FSgt. Abdul Al-Said asks.

“Negative,” Jonah replies, “We’re falling back…at least you are. I’m going to look for 1Lt. Minh.”

Before anyone can protest, Jonah thrusts the Centurion Gundam towards Solomon Fortress.

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

Jolie collapses in exhaustion to the cold, metallic floor of the cavernous docking bay deep within Solomon Fortress. She has never felt so spent in her entire life…not even after miscarrying Joanie.

Steeling herself, Jolie crawls forward, then rises unsteadily to her feet. She strides forward, wobbling and nearly collapsing again. She continues determinedly forward…inching towards a prone feminine form in the darkness.

Jolie kneels before Lt. Col. Kyoko Yamaguchi, sensing the other young woman’s life force fading away…

Jolie reaches forth, opening the visor of Kyoko’s helmet…the beautiful face behind the visor is identical to her own.

Kyoko reaches forth weakly, blood coursing out of her nose and bubbling forth from her lips, grabbing hold of the collar of Jolie’s normalsuit…not out of malice or desire for further violence that her body can no longer support, but plaintively…desperately.

“J-Jolie…” Kyoko gasps.

“You’re badly hurt,” Jolie says, “Don’t try to talk.”

“How…how does it feel,” Kyoko says through increasingly short, painful breaths, “now…now that…you’ve avenged your daughter?”

Jolie isn’t sure how to answer that. Presently, she feels…nothing. No hatred for the dying young woman…her own doppelganger…that she cradles in her arms. No satisfaction that the woman who murdered her daughter will soon join Joanie in eternal oblivion.

This isn’t what I expected, Jolie thinks.

“Jo…Jolie,” Kyoko manages weakly.

“What is it?” Jolie asks, no malice or menace left in her voice.

“Take me back…please, I beg you. Please take me back…to Alexander,” Kyoko pleads pitiably.

Jolie says nothing…her eyes widen in realization…in understanding her dying enemy’s soul.

“I love him…” Kyoko says, tears flowing forth from her dark, clouding eyes, “Love him more than I could ever love anything in this world. I…I want to…”

“I understand,” Jolie says, “I promise…I’ll take you back to him.”

Kyoko smiles in gratitude and closes her eyes to begin an eternal sleep.

Jolie holds Kyoko closely in her arms, then lifts the fallen Zeon ace gently in her arms, carrying her towards the open cockpit of the idling White Phoenix Gundam.

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

“Enemy unit approaching!” the alarm sounds aboard the Cassius, “All personnel: battle stations! Defend his Majesty!”

A troubled Archduke Miguel sits in the command seat of the Cassius, looking more haggard and unsteady than the men under his command remember having ever seen him. An ominous air permeates the bridge…the entire ship.

“Your Majesty,” a tech reports, “the approaching enemy MS is hailing us on our communications network.”

“Open communications channel,” the Archduke replies darkly.

A youthful female voice, sounding somewhat similar to Kyoko’s, comes through the receiver, “This is 1Lt. Jolie Minh of the Earth Federation Forces. Request permission to approach and board the Cassius. I’ve brought back…Lt. Col. Kyoko Yamaguchi of your forces.”

“Your Majesty?” the tech turns to Alexander.

The Archduke’s face has gone pale and blank, and a long, painful moment passes before he is able to whisper listlessly, “Permit her to board.”

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

The heavily damaged White Phoenix Gundam lands in the MS hangar bay of the Cassius amidst heavy security. No fewer than four dozen heavily armed troops and a half dozen mobile suits stand ready, their weapons pointed towards the Earth Federation Forces’ advanced prototype Newtype combat mecha.

Archduke Miguel arrives at the MS hangar deck, flanked by heavy security.

The cockpit hatch of the WPG opens. A slight, slender figure in an Earth Federation Forces normalsuit emerges, carrying in her arms an almost identical figure in a familiar black Zeon Forces normalsuit. The black hair flowing from the fallen young Zeon woman’s hair is unmistakable.

Jolie strides forward, deliberately, towards Archduke Miguel. Dozens of gun barrels are aimed towards her, trigger fingers at the ready.

Archduke Miguel orders them to stand down with a simple gesture.

Jolie faces her enemy at last…Alexander Miguel, who took away her parents, her older brother, and her childhood, in an act of cruelty and malice years ago.

At last, Jolie has returned the favor.

Jolie hands Kyoko’s corpse to the Archduke of Zeon; Alexander takes Kyoko’s cold, lifeless form gently in his arms.

Jolie opens the visor of her helmet, revealing a face that shocks the Archduke in its remarkable similarity to that of the dead young woman in his arms.

“How does it feel, Your Majesty?” Jolie asks softly, “To lose someone you love?”

Without saying any more, Jolie turns around…throwing a contemptuous smirk over her shoulder at Alexander before returning to her mobile suit.

The Zeon troops prepare to open fire on the WPG and Jolie alike, but the Archduke again gestures for them to stand down.

“Not now,” Alexander says quietly. His troops know better than to act against his Majesty’s wishes.

The WPG blasts out of the Cassius’ MS hangar, en rout to Side 6.

Alexander holds Kyoko close. Traces of her evaporated final tears are still visible upon her beautiful, silk-smooth cheeks.

Alexander plants a kiss upon Kyoko’s lifeless lips…they are cold.

The MS bay of the Cassius falls ominously silent, save for the soft sound of Archduke Alexander’s sobs.

A teardrop rolls down Alexander’s cheek, his eye cold as he gazes into space beyond the launch deck.

Jolie Minh…

The Archduke’s teeth clench savagely.

To be continued in Episode 49...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 49 - SACRIFICE


10:00, December 14, U.C. 0100

Cosmic Alexandria, Side 3 – the heart of the Archduchy of Zeon – a heart that has, momentarily, gone silent amid the ominous rumble of impending battle.

The silence is finally broken by a sound characteristic of modern warfare – artillery emplacements blasting out a furious salute into the artificial sky of the space colony, creating a thunderous echo irreproducible on Earth. The mournful din belies a silent fury that would soon find expression in blood and fire…

An imperial color guard heralds the procession of an imperial casket of onyx-colored titanium, draped with the crimson and gold standard of the Archduchy of Zeon. The casket is carried by a staff of the Archduchy of Zeon Forces’ finest - flag-ranking admirals and generals…a funereal escort worthy of an emperor.

Or an empress.

Behind the casket walks a solemn Archduke Alexander Miguel, clad in a black version of his imperial dress uniform, his chiseled features a frigid mask all the more frightful for its lack of expression.

The guns fall silent as a Buddhist priest utters a mourning chant for Kyoko. In life, Kyoko Yamaguchi had been a Buddhist, and the Archduke has arranged for a memorial ceremony that would honor the late Zeon ace’s faith.

The priest’s chants are given in Sanskrit, an ancient language in which many of Buddhism’s sacred texts were originally composed. It is a language with which Archduke Miguel is not conversant, but even had he understood every word that issued forth from the old monk’s lips, the leader of the Archduchy of Zeon would have paid them no heed, or disdained them with deepest contempt, for they spoke of a peace that Miguel has no desire to embrace.

After a long, long time, the chant finally ceases. The Archduke removes a gold band from the fourth finger of his right hand and places it on Kyoko’s corresponding digit, now cold and limp.

The titanium crypt is sealed, its shining onyx surface emblazoned with the words –

Col. Kyoko Yamaguchi Miguel, Archduchess of Zeon…

For a moment, the defining element in Archduke Miguel’s eye is water…the element that sustains humanity and perhaps most conducts the direction of its soul, but in a moment, the elements shift in Alexander’s eye as much as it does in his heart…from water, to fire. The fire of rage…and of retribution.

As the late Archduchess’ coffin is lowered into the artificial turf, one thought consumes the Archduke’s mind…

She will pay, Kyoko…

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

Mere minutes after the Black Raven is laid to rest, Archduke Alexander has gathered his command staff…the best of Zeon’s generals and admirals, to convene with him in his office within the Aerie, the central command headquarters of the Archduchy of Zeon Forces. Also present is Dr. Lenape Timberland, Technical Director of the Tartarus Initiative – the official codename given to the Archduchy of Zeon Forces’ new colony laser weapons systems.

An ominous tension, more palpable and oppressive than the thick film of burned tobacco vapor that permeates the room, cows each man, usually as bold of speech as of action, into silence. In Hell, no one speaks before Satan does.

From behind steepled fingers, the voice of Alexander Miguel finally says, clearly though quietly, speaking first not to his staff of senior officers, but to the only civilian present, “Dr. Timberland: give us a technical feasibility assessment for maneuvering our operational colony laser units to the L5 Zone.”

After a moment’s silence, taken more out of fear of the consequences of the response than unavailability of information, the engineer answers, “It would be no more difficult than it was to send the Scylla and the Charybdis,the two units we’ve already deployed to the front lines, Your Majesty. However, I must say that factoring in the current limitations of our resources, the remaining six colony laser units under construction will not be operational for at least another eighteen to thirty-six months. Even bringing one more unit online will require a minimum of four months.”

“Time is another resource that will become very limited if we do not take decisive action,” the Archduke says plainly.

Vice Admiral Benz Acheron of the Zeon 2nd Mechanized Fleet rises and says, “Your Majesty, I would like to take the liberty to speak freely.”

“Go ahead, Acheron,” Miguel says coolly.

“Your Majesty,” Acheron says, a barely perceptible tremble of his hand belying the steadiness of his voice, “I humbly ask that you reconsider the strategy of deploying our colony lasers to the L5 Zone. We have exhausted our fleets and mobile units in previous engagements against the United Forces. With the colony lasers protecting the Zeon homeland, we could possibly hold out against the enemy indefinitely. Without the colony lasers, however, the homeland will become vulnerable to infiltration and attack.”

The Archduke levels a withering glare at Acheron, completely incongruous with the cold smile on his lips.

The imperial voice says, “…a condition brought about, at least in part, by our failures to defeat the enemy on previous occasions.”

Acheron swallows painfully – not from fear, but from shame. Upper-echelon Zeon officers who came up through the ranks alongside Archduke Miguel are beyond fear…particularly fear of their own deaths…a notion that no man on the Archduke’s command staff could comprehend. Dying for the Archduke and for the honor of Zeon was the greatest glory…the highest privilege…an opportunity to be coveted and vied for. There is no fear in death for Acheron or his allies, but failure…failure to serve the needs of Zeon: that is an ignominy that no Zeon officer is willing to face.

Miguel continues, “It is unfair to blame any of you without turning that same blame towards myself: your failures are merely extensions of my failures. Ultimately, the fate of Zeon comes down to my decisions.”

After a moment’s tense silence, Miguel says in a voice in which his most attentive officers detect only the most subtle hint of faltering, “Our beloved late comrade-at-arms, Lt. Col. Yamaguchi, loved Zeon…loved Zeon such that she gave her life for it. None of us should ever forget that. And we will not squander her sacrifice. Therefore, gentlemen, I agree with your recommendation that we utilize only the previously deployed Scylla and Charybdis against as part of the Tartarus Initiative.

The Archduke’s proclamation is met with standing applause by his staff. They had expected no less of him.

“Vice Admiral Acheron,” Miguel says, turning to the veteran officer, “Benz…”

“Your Majesty,” responds Acheron, attentive and ready to rise to the service of Zeon.

“Benz, you are one of the finest fleet commanders that Zeon has,” Miguel says, not taking his eye off the officer, “Your service record is replete with victory after glorious victory. I am counting on you…all of Zeon is counting on you. Benz…Vice Admiral Acheron…meet the enemy at L5. Force them into the jaws of Scylla and Charybdis.

Acheron nods resolutely, “Your Majesty, I stake my career and my life on the outcome of this operation: the enemy falls at L5, or this is farewell, my lord.”

Miguel pats Acheron on the shoulder and smiles, “Not farewell, Vice Admiral. I have no intention on sending you or our men and women out to face the enemy alone. I will join you in battle.”

The Zeon officers begin murmuring, both in equal parts admiration and alarm.

“The cause of Zeon is greater than any of us,” the Archduke says, “and I am no exception. Kyoko understood that. Any citizen of Zeon would.”

Miguel’s officers nod, each man prepared to lay down his life for the greater Glory of Zeon.

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

23:53, December 14, U.C. 0100

The Archduke is in the company of his sister Nanai, at the Imperial Military Science and Engineering Research Institute (formerly the Flannagan Research Institute), of which she is the director.

Nanai leads her brother through the cavernous interiors of one of the institute’s weapons development hangars. High above the heads of the Nanai siblings, suspended on thick, strong titanium cables, are unconventionally-shaped mobile weapons systems still in development…

“It’s still in the final stages of development,” Nanai says to her brother, “We were planning to deploy it on Kyoko’s Gamma Azieru, but…”

Alexander sets the discussion back on course, “Is it adaptable for my use?”

“Yes,” Nanai responds, “We did not have a chance to encode it to Kyoko’s EEG wave pattern, which will make it much easier for us to program it with yours.”

Alexander glances upward towards something suspended high above the floor of the massive testing hangar into which he and Nanai have stepped.

“You’ve put a great amount of work into it,” Alexander remarks with cold admiration.

“Our work began on it shortly after…Char left us,” Nanai says, “We recovered the Psycho Frame from the Earth Federation Forces, and examined both its metallurgical properties and its circuitry. Over the years, we’ve fielded four prototype field models, each of which was lost during testing due to various design flaws and limitations. This final model was the first to survive all field tests.”

Alexander nods as he regards the massive, armored frame suspended high above him and Nanai by cables…what appears to be a set of enormous avian wings the same stygian tone as the eternal cosmos, each quill a deadly Psychom weapons system.

“This can be fitted on the Azrael?” Miguel asks his sister.

“Yes,” Nanai replies, “the components are adaptable to multiple Zeon mobile weapons platforms.”

“Get to work on right away,” Alexander says at last, “I’ll be needing…does it have a name?”

“We’ve given it the designation ‘Ravenwing,’” Nanai answers.

“’Ravenwing,’” Alexander intones, “Fitting.”

Alexander examines the Psychom weapon once again as a singular thought occupies his focus…

Jolie Minh…

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

The sector of space outside the L5 Zone has become a killing zone, as warships and mobile suits belonging to either the Archduchy of Zeon Forces or the United Forces clash by the dozen.

Here, a Zeon Nova Doga mobile suit sends an Earth Federation Forces Jegan-IV pilot screaming to his death with a volley of shots from its beam rifle through the Federation mobile suit’s cockpit and nuclear fusion engine.

There, a Shambala Republic Javelin mobile suit impales a Zeon Gellond on its beam saber, then kicks the wreck of the critically disabled mobile suit towards a Zeon Dozle-class destroyer, resulting in a ballooning explosion that catches three more mobile suits in its wake.

Elsewhere, a squad of Zeon Rick Dom Stingers has overrun a team of Federal Forces mobile suits and begins to advance towards the L5 Zone line, only to meet an explosive demise amidst a field of orbital mines maneuvered into their path.

Command-level officers on both sides have come to a similar assessment: the struggle has reached a point of stalemate, with both the Zeon Forces and the United Forces approaching the point of exhaustion.

And the commanders of both forces also agree that the stalemate must be broken soon…

To be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 49 continued...

Key personnel of the United Forces have gathered aboard the supply ship Moonshadow to discuss bringing about a quick end to the stalemate. The nondescript cargo cruiser is presently stationed at the rear ranks of the United Forces Armada amidst three dozen very similar vessels and military support ships. Perceptible security measures have been deliberately dispensed with as to draw no attention to the unremarkable transport ship, the better to misdirect prying eyes and ears…

The Shambala Republic Movement’s Deputy Director, Minerva Zabi, stands before a video screen upon which is displayed the real time disposition of the United Forces and the Archduchy of Zeon Forces. Seated at a large table around her are Dr. Artasia Daikun (Principal Director of the Shambala Republic Movement), General Bright Noah of the Earth Federation Forces, Chairman Meitzer Ronah of the Buch Concern, and Lt. Col. Christina MacKenzie, Captain Jonah Michaels, and 1Lt. Jolie Minh of the Centurion Team of the Earth Federation Special Forces.

Minerva’s audience watches and listens intently as the former Duchess of Zeon lays out her plans, “We are presently at an overwhelming firepower disadvantage vis a vis the enemy forces. To reverse this disadvantage requires that we accomplish one of three objectives. The best of these objectives is to capture both of the enemy’s colony laser units intact for our own use, but the strength of the enemy’s defenses and our own relative lack of resources renders our chances of reaching this objective extremely remote. More realistic is the prospect of capturing one of the colony lasers and destroying the other…an operation for which we already have a plan in place. The final option is to destroy both colony lasers – an objective that would be relatively easy to achieve, but which would deny us important resources for taking the war to Zeon and bringing this conflict to a decisive end.”

Minerva’s audience mulls over her observations, and Minerva remains silent for a moment to allow the implications of what she has told them sink in before she continues, “We’re taking the option of destroying one of the colony lasers and taking control of the other.”

Cutting through the resulting murmurs of both approval and objection, of hope and doubt, comes the firm, authoritative voice of General Bright Noah, who plies Minerva with penetrating demand, “Details, please.”

Minerva replies without the slightest hesitation, “The Earth Federation Space Armada will keep the Zeon fleets occupied while Shambala and Federation Special Forces units assail the colony laser units that our intelligence agents have revealed to bear the designates Scylla and Charybdis.”

The significance of the names of two weapons of mass destruction is lost on most of small congregation, but Captain Jonah Michaels draws in his breath nervously, causing the anxious eyes of 1Lt. Jolie Minh to turn to him.

“What is it?” Jolie whispers.

Jonah exhales and says, “We’re going to be between a rock and a hard place.”

General Noah, having digested Minerva’s plan, responds with, “The armada will do its best, but your infiltration force, will…?”

“It needn’t be large to be successful,” Minerva says, anticipating the question, “but we won’t be going in facing an overwhelming disadvantage in numbers or firepower. Battle-ready new Shambala combat units will be arriving shortly, as are Chairman Ronah’s Crossbones Vanguard units. We will more than adequately supplied for the task at hand.”

“Indeed,” the Chairman of the Buch Concern interjects, “the Crossbones Vanguard stands ready to support the United Forces in ridding humanity of the curse of Zeon.”

“Then it’s decided,” Minerva says, “with Dr. Daikun’s approval, this is the strategy we will pursue.”

Artasia, who has been silently and attentively listening up to this point, smiles wanly as she answers, “Although I was a combat officer myself once, I’d be a fool to think that my acumen as a strategist compares to any of yours. I find your plan basically sound, though risky, and I support it.”

Minerva nods at Artasia, then continues, “Ladies and gentlemen, make no mistake: this is a decisive moment for the future of both the Shambala Republic and the Earth Federation. If we do not break the Zeon here and now, then the Zeon will break us. You must be aware that it is probable that the Zeon will deploy additional colony laser units to liquidate us, and so we must secure our ability to defeat them by depriving them of at least one colony laser while gaining at least one for ourselves.”

“We’d better get moving then,” Bright says, the first to rise despite his preeminent rank, “we can be sure that the Zeon already are.”

“Right,” Minerva says, rising as well, “be prepared to move out within forty-eight hours.”

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

Minutes later, Jolie, Jonah, and Minerva duck into a turbolift together, en rout to shuttlecraft to bear them back to the warships to which they are assigned.

Once an inseparable trio, the past few months have seen fitfully few occasions when Minerva, Jolie, and Jonah have found themselves together. Now that they do have a brief, quiet moment together, none of them seems to have much to say.

Jolie, leaning back against the wall of the turbolift, breaks the silence with a breathy, “Final showdown, y’think, ‘Thena?”

“Not until we reach Side 3, hopefully,” Minerva replies, covering her eyes with her cybernetic hand.

Jonah chimes in, “Even if we win here, we need to finish of the Zeon at Side 3 before we can declare victory. Every time the Federation has beaten back the Zeon, the Zeon have always come back in some new form…under some new leader, to menace the world again. We need to make sure that the Zeon won’t come back this time.”

Minerva uncovers her eyes, “That’s right.”

Minerva lifts her eyes to examine Jolie closely; she recognizes the fiery, intense look in the teenager’s eyes, “Jolie…set aside your personal vendetta against Miguel and focus on the mission objectives. If you let this get too personal, you’re going to jeopardize the people you care about. I know that’s the last thing you want.”

Jolie says nothing, but her sullen expression says it all. Her eyes burn with malice.

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

Some hours later, Minerva’s shuttle docks with the Buch Concern’s corporate flagship, the Nebuchadnezzar, which is also the personal vessel of Chairman Meitzer Ronah.

Minerva perches herself upon Ronah’s desk, lighting a cigarette between her lips, not bothering to even look at Ronah, whose visage disgusts her.

“Everything ready?” Minerva asks the Chairman.

“Everything ready,” Ronah says, “as per our agreement.”

“As per our agreement,” Minerva repeats, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “but to be frank, Mr. Chairman, I’m not yet certain that you’re taking that agreement seriously.”

Ronah directs a ferocious grin towards Minerva’s back, “’Never trust anyone’…it’s a doctrine that deeply saturates your Zabi blood isn’t it, Miss Deputy Director? It’s very understandable…backstabbing allies has been something of a tradition in your family, hasn’t it, your Majesty?”

Minerva says nothing, turning her head casually towards Ronah and treating him to a sly grin.

The telephone on Ronah’s desk rings. Ronah glares at the phone gravely. Nobody calls that line except in a dire emergency.

Upon the second ring, Ronah picks up the receiver, “What is it?”

Ronah recognizes the panicked voice of Montgomery Cleaver, a member of Ronah’s executive staff, shouting through static, “Your…cellency! One of our mun..tions production fac…ities here….up in smoke! We’re….!”

“Cleaver!” Ronah snarls into the transmitter, “What the devil’s going on over there?!”

“Attac…!” comes the distorted reply a moment later.

“Who?!” Ronah demands, “Who could have attacked one of our factories?! Where is the Vanguard?!”

Minerva rises from where she has sat on Ronah’s desk and stares coldly at the Chairman of the Buch Concern, stubbing out the last of her cigarette into his ash tray.

“That facility was secure!” Ronah sputters, “The Zeon couldn’t have known about it! How…?!”

A realization comes to Ronah as he puts down the phone; he fixes Minerva in a withering glare, “You…”

Minerva says, “Don’t double cross me, Chairman. If you do, I’ll do everything…everything to take down your entire operation.”

Minerva leaves as a bloodcurdling death scream issues forth from the receiver of the telephone.

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

Buch Concern Mobile Munitions Production Facility CB-3210 is a cold ruin floating adrift outside L5 orbit. Tens of thousands of tons of ammunition earmarked for use by the Crossbones Vanguard has been immolated, and left for dead are dozens of Buch Concern personnel who staffed the facility.

Departing the scene before the arrival of United Forces and Buch Concern authorities are a dozen mobile suits, each of which bears a shield marked with the stylized legend, “MAFTY”

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

Jolie and Jonah disembark from a shuttlecraft that has just docked with the Federal Forces’ carrier La Kaelum-II, to which the Centurion Team has been assigned. The two young Special Forces officers drag themselves from the shuttle slowly, tiredly, as if a great weight were upon them.

The flight from the Moonshadow to the La Kaelum-II had been quiet and tense, mirroring the condition of Jolie and Jonah’s relationship has been during the past several weeks. Constant combat duty has compelled them to spend more time together than they ever have before, but the great paradox, not lost on either of them, is that they have never been more distant.

Jonah glances over at Jolie…still ravishing to the eye as ever, but surrounded by a perpetual aura of anger that has made her increasingly inaccessible to him.

I’ve heard people say that after a while in a marriage, spouses start chafing against each other, Jonah reflects with a sigh, but I thought that didn’t start until they’d been together twenty years. Jolie and I have barely been together twenty months and it’s gotten to the point that we barely seem to know each other anymore.

“Hey, look at that!” Jolie says pointing upwards.

Jonah glances upward to see a large poster of a Christmas tree newly pasted onto one of the walls of the MS hangar bay.

“I forgot it was almost Christmas,” Jonah remarks absently, “Another year over…”

“…and a new one just begun,” Jolie finishes quoting an ancient carol, “Well…almost, anyway.”

Jonah playfully places an arm around Jolie, trying to rekindle some of the old warmth, “What do you want for Christmas this year?”

“For this war to end,” Jolie replies, leaning against him.

“Amen to that,” Jonah says, pulling her closer.

Jolie and Jonah arrive within the quarters they have been assigned to share…small and intimate, and suited to their simple needs as soldiers.

They will have, at best, a few hours to rest here before they are called to duty again, so they waste no time in removing their uniforms.

Jolie notices Jonah’s easel in the corner of the room, a canvas covered by an easel.

“Didn’t figure you had time for this anymore,” Jolie remarks, pulling a nightshirt over her curvaceously slender form.

“I’ve been working on it intermittently,” Jonah says, stripping off his uniform jacket, “Go ahead: check it out.”

Jolie does, removing the tarp to reveal Jonah’s newest painting. It is a formless wash of blazing orange fading into star-white, surrounding myriad slashes of red that create an impression of relentless rage…

“What the hell is it?” Jolie asks, “This isn’t like any of the other paintings you’ve done before.”

“It’s called The White Phoenix,” Jonah says, “It’s you, Jolie…just like all the other paintings you’ve seen.”

Jolie is speechless for a long minute before finally saying, “But…that’s not…it’s not even human, Jonah!”

“It’s you,” Jonah says again quietly, “It’s how I’ve come to see you lately.”

“I don’t get it,” Jolie frowns.

Jonah wraps his arms around Jolie, “I’ve seen you in so many ways…in so many moods. I’ve seen you happy…like when we used to go dancing together when we first met. I’ve seen you sad…like when…when we lost Joanie. I’ve seen you compassionate…like when you reached out to little Amy down on Earth. And I’ve seen you when you’ve let hatred and anger take over…”

“And this is what it looks like to you?” Jolie challenges, that selfsame anger rising, “You see me as some kind of…monster?!”

“Is that what you see in the painting, Jolie?” Jonah asks, “A monster?”

“Isn’t it?” Jolie asks, looking at the painting again, “It’s some sort of…I don’t know…some sort of fire/bird beast thingy.”

“An artist creates an image,” Jonah explains, “but interpretation is up to the viewer. You see what you’re meant to see…based on who you are. I see you in this painting, Jolie.”

Jolie looks at the horrifying image again, its red streaks seeming to drip like burning blood…ravenous, insatiable, unrelenting. As Jonah’s words sink in, Jolie feels her blood running cold with recognition.

Jolie shakes her head violently in denial, “That’s NOT me! I am not a f*cking monster, Jonah!”

“You aren’t,” Jonah says soothingly, “but the hate that you carry in your heart is. You’ve got to walk away from it, Jolie…before it takes over you completely.”

“I’ll walk away from it,” Jolie snarls out, “the day after that bastard Miguel goes to hell.”

Jonah looks deeply into Jolie’s eyes, “My name is Miguel.”

“Stop it,” Jolie cuts in, “Jonah, just…don’t. We’ve talked about this a thousand times already. He’s your brother, but he still has to pay the price for all those lives he’s taken. He has to be stopped before he kills any more people.”

“He has to be stopped,” Jonah affirms, “that much is true, but Jolie…killing Alexander might end up harming you more than anyone else.”

“WHY?!” Jolie whirls on Jonah demands hotly, “To you, he’s family! I get that, Jonah, I’m not stupid! But you can’t stand here and tell me that you believe in justice if you’re gonna let him get away with mass murder! There’s a price to be paid for all the lives he took, and I swear to God I’m gonna make him pay! It’s what I’ve waited for all these years and I’m not gonna be denied no matter what!”

Jonah sighs, “The price might be your soul, Jolie. If you go there, it’s going to eat you alive, and I’m not going to let that happen to you.”

Jolie’s eyes flash dangerously as she hisses through clenched teeth, “If that’s what it takes…the price has to be paid, Jonah.”

Jonah looks down at the ground for a moment, and then back up at Jolie, resolved, “Yes, Jolie…you’re probably right. The price does need to be paid. I only wish…that you could be spared the consequences.”

“I’ll take whatever consequences come,” Jolie replies tersely.

Jonah has nothing left to say to that. All that can be said has already been said. He can only look at his beloved Jolie through anguished eyes, seeing the burning white phoenix engulfing her.

Episode 49 to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 49 continued...

A trio of black Psychom bits, streamlined into the shape of a bird’s quills and colored the ebony of space, swivel rapidly into position after having sufficiently decelerated from multi-mach speeds. They lock a target drone in their sights, then swivel again into position as the target drone takes evasive maneuvers. In mid-flight, and while taking evasive maneuvers of their own, the three Psychom bits fire with hyper-accelerated particle beams, immolating the target drone with a crossfire from which there is no possible vector of evasion.

The same scene is repeated simultaneously in a half dozen other venues in an area within a three kilometer radius of space centered around Archduke Alexander Miguel’s Azrael mobile suit, now fitted with the Ravenwing Psychom weapons platform.

From the personal space shuttle from where she observes the action, Dr. Nanai Miguel nods with approval, “You’re adapting well to the system, Alex...and likewise, it’s adapting well to you. The conversion went much more smoothly than I had anticipated.”

“This weapon is Kyoko’s,” Alexander remarks, even as he continues running the system through increasingly complex and difficult maneuvers, “I sense her spirit in my actions…as if she is guiding me.”

Nanai objects, “You need to be careful out there, Alex. The Ravenwing greatly enhances the amount of damage you can do, but there’s no guarantee it’ll enough for you to overcome the White Phoenix. If Kyoko were still here, the addition of the Ravenwing would have been enough to guarantee victory. But Alex…you aren’t Kyoko.”

“Kyoko will not let me be defeated, Nanai,” Alex insists, “You are a scientist, I know, but even science must sometimes give way to faith.”

Nanai is skeptical, but nevertheless wishes her brother, “Godspeed.”

“This war will end soon, Nanai,” Alex says with the solemn tone of a vow, “but before it can, I must destroy the White Phoenix. If she lives, she will always be a threat to Zeon. It’s such a pity, really…such a powerful Newtype being a pawn of the Earth Federation and its confederates.”

“She is very much like Kyoko,” Nanai observes.

“Yes,” Alexander concedes, “but in all the ways that matter most, she is not like Kyoko at all…and I will have no regrets in sending this ‘White Phoenix’ to a dark grave from which her light will never shine again.”

So saying, Alexander directs a Psychom bit to fire upon and disintegrate a target drone shaped very much like a Federation Gundam-class mobile suit…

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

All MS maintenance decks on all United Forces warships fitted with MS docking and launching facilities have become rushing hives of frenetic activity as combat mecha are prepped for impending combat. Engineering and technician staffs, already pulling multiple consecutive work shifts, set aside their exhaustion to hurriedly (but no less exactingly) ensure that all mobile suits are combat ready.

With maintenance crews stretched to their limits, pilots have been enlisted to supplement the maintenance personnel’s efforts…doing whatever maintenance they can on their mobile suits to leave the engineers and technicians to handle more complex matters.

Her White Phoenix Gundam being serviced by 1Lt. Molly Duran and her crackerjack team of mechanics, 1Lt. Jolie Minh is helping Captain Jonah Michaels to arm and test his Centurion Gundam. The couple works together, as they always have, like perfectly and uniquely matched dual gears, needing no words…not even an exchange of glances, to know what the other has in mind. Presently, they load a fresh rack of short-range incendiary missiles into the weapons/thruster pack of the mobile suit…as they have so many times in the past.

The morning is thus spent by the couple…recharging the E-Cap for the Centurion Gundam’s beam rifle, dry-testing all firing mechanisms, running through the avionics systems…

By early evening, the work is done. Jolie and Jonah, weary but not quite exhausted from their day’s labor, lean back to back seated on the boarding gantry in front of the Centurion Gundam’s cockpit. The couple grips each other’s hand tightly, the tension that they feel bleeding between them and permeating them.

“Where are we going to go after the war is over, Jonah?” Jolie asks, “Most of Earth and half the space colonies are uninhabitable because of this damn war. I’m not sure that we aren’t fooling ourselves thinking that anybody can actually ‘win’ this war. Even if we win, we’re gonna be left with a world that’s ****ed up beyond hope.”

“Maybe that’s going to be our work after the war is over,” Jonah says, “To begin the process of rehabilitating the Earth and the colonies…to put things right. We’re still young, Jolie. If we survive the war, we might live decades more…but even if we do, we’re only going to be able to contribute to the beginning of it. The work of putting the world right again is going to take many generations…even our grandchildren’s grandchildren will still be working for it.”

“Grandchildren’s grandchildren, huh?” Jolie returns, a smile in her voice.

“Yeah,” Jonah says with an answering smile, “Despite everything, I’m still hopeful about that.”

Jolie closes her eyes, “So you really think…we can still make our dreams come true?”

Jonah replies plainly, “Yes, I think we can…if we make wise choices.”

A soft glow begins to envelop the couple…in the manner it always does when their PSI-energies are in harmony…in precious moments of tenderness such as this.

“No matter what happens,” Jonah says after a long silence, seemingly straining to produce the words, “No matter what happens, Jolie, remember: I’ll always, always be with you.”

Jolie finds herself shaken by the ominous tone of the words, delivered gently and lovingly, as is in Jonah’s nature, but frightened by the implications.

Jonah leans forward to kiss her, and their lips interlock. For a minute, the din of pre-combat is silenced, and the passage of time seems suspended.

A minute…a final, peaceful minute.

“ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL: battle stations! Priority 1 Alert! This vessel is now on Combat Status 1!”

“Combat Status 1?!,” Jolie’s eyes flash in alarm, “but we’re not even fully combat-prepped yet!”

“We’re under attack,” Jonah concludes darkly.

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

The Earth Federation Forces’ space combat frigate Great White finds port hull rapidly penetrated by a dozen beam strikes, most of the hits inflicting critical damage to engineering, power generator, and life support systems. Atmosphere leaks from the ship even as a few of its cannon valiantly, but feebly and vainly attempt to counterfire. A final strike connects with the ship’s bridge, and half the lights on the vessel goes dark.

A squad of Zeon mobile suits, Rick Diablos and Gellonds, vectors past the dying wreck, two other United Forces’ vessels suffering similar fates to the Great White in their wake.

A fleet of Zeon warships – destroyers and MS carriers - move in to fill their place.

The Zeon destroyer Marathon rushes forth, its multiple batteries of beam cannon and missiles blazing, bathing the Federation armored cruiser Hastings in fire and rapidly disintegrating steam. Personnel aboard the latter ship rush towards gunnery stations and emergency facilities, only to find themselves immolated by sudden waves of hyper-accelerated, burning metal wreckage.

But the Hastings will not go down without a final show of resistance. Two of the ship’s crewmen, though nursing severe shrapnel and burn injuries to which they will ultimately succumb, manage to deploy two torpedoes out of the Hastings’ forward gun tubes.

One torpedo connects with the Marathon’s main particle beam cannon, while a second finds its way to a Rick Diablo upon whose electronic signature the torpedo’s homing system has locked upon.

After several long minutes, the Hastings’ primary and secondary systems shut down as the ship dies. The surviving personnel, approximately a third of the ship’s full crew, rush for the lifeboats – unable to even offer their ship in sacrifice for lack of power to steer the ship.

The Marathon, brutally mauled, but still combat-worthycontinues to ply forward, escorted by two other Zeon vessels, the Ortega and the Daklan. They are promptly met by a pair of Federation destroyers, the Westmoreland and the Hardesty, whose main particle beam cannon battery and missile tubes pour forth vengeance for their fallen brother. The Marathon takes three critical strikes that cripple it and cause it to collide with the Ortega, sending personnel screaming to fiery death or injury.

Even as similar scenes play out in several dozen venues spread over a thousand-kilometer radius of space, batteries of nuclear pulse engines begin to glow on the massive hulls of two former space colonies of Side 3, previously industrial and residential colonies, now depopulated and rechristened Scylla and Charybdis.

Monsters…like the monsters of myth in that they devour men en masse, but unlike those ancient monsters that were the spawn of titans and gods, these monsters are the spawn of man himself.

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

Aboard the Mapother, Minerva Zabi and Hathaway Noah, who returned only an hour earlier from a classified mission, rush to their respective mobile suits Kizi Aslan and Oglu Aslan.

No sooner is Minerva seated in the cockpit of the Kizi than does General Bright Noah’s image appear on the monitor, “They’ve stolen the first move, Minerva. Do we still carry out the original plan?”

“Yes,” Minerva replies to her father-in-law-to-be, “The timetable has been accelerated, but the fundamental plan is unchanged. We’re going to be depending on you and your Federation fleet to keep the Zeon fleet at bay while we make a charge for the colony lasers.”

Bright nods, “United Forces Main Armada is proceeding here from Side 7…they departed from Luna 2 thirty-six hours ago, meaning their ETA is approximately…three hours from now.”

“We’ll need to hold them off for at least that long,” Minerva says, bringing the Kizi Aslan’s systems to life.

On another channel, Hathaway chimes in, “Our scouts report that the Zeon have already activated the nuclear fusion engines on the Scylla and the Charybdis, Minerva. If we don’t get out there fast, not only will we be unable to implement your plan, but the United Forces and Side 6 will be reduced to a memory!”

“I hear that,” Minerva says, lowering the visor of her helmet, and then adds, “Nice work by the way.”

“For you, I’d give nothing other than the best,” Hathaway replies with a grin, knowing that to which Minerva cryptically refers.

“If you want people to bend to your will, you need to put the fear of God into them,” Minerva remarks, “That’s certainly an idea my family lived by.”

“What about you?” Hathaway asks.

Minerva’s reply is, “Minerva Zabi. Kizi Aslan, now launching from Deck 1.”

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

The Centurion Team and other Special Forces units find themselves in the midst of a swirling rat race – the largest engagement they have seen since the winding down of the war against the Zeon warlords in the Outer System the previous year. The battle has been joined less than half an hour and already, no fewer than three dozen mobile suits have been lost on both sides.

Presently, Jolie is attempting to not become the latest casualty as sixteen heat-seeking missiles fired by a quarter that number of Rick Diablo units bear down on her White Phoenix Gundam. Although Jolie has taken down such pilots as Braniff Oskar, Shin Matsunaga, and most recently, Kyoko Yamaguchi, she is canny enough to know that just because one has downed aces does not mean that one will not fall to an anonymous rookie pilot’s wild strike.

That is the reality of combat piloting.

This sweet sixteen of heatseekers stay tight on the WPG’s tail…Jolie’s deft twisting and turning only delaying the inevitable, and even the WPG’s tremendous thrust output is unable to put more distance between the missiles and the mobile suit.

Jolie clenches her teeth, All right…if they want heat that bad, let ‘em have it!

Jolie deploys a flight of incendiary plasma missiles from the WPG’s arsenal, programming them to detonate six seconds after deployment. At the assigned time, the incendiaries project concentrated liquid heat into the cold of space, attracting the Rick Diablos’ heat-seekers like ravenous sharks to a fresh carcass.

The plasma goes to work, heightening the heat, the shock, the harsh glare of the resulting light…bright even behind the protective visors of the Rick Diablo pilots’ helmets and the suppressive filters of their camera lenses.

The pilot of the lead Diablo has only begun to check for confirmation of target destroyed when the WPG suddenly streaks up behind them, stopping to aim its beam rifle in one hand and squeeze off three rapid shots that immolate three Diablos.

The fourth, however, reacts quickly enough to extract its beam saber and launch itself towards the WPG in a suicide dive, bearing down upon Jolie’s mobile suit with surprising speed and precision.

For an instant, Jolie reflects upon her earlier self-admonishment that even an ace can fall to an anonymous grunt under the right circumstances…

Jolie tilts the WPG backwards, to put her mobile suit’s back to the sun and, hopefully, blind the enemy pilot long enough so that she can pull off an evasive maneuver or counterattack. Jolie’s combat instincts are on the mark; certainly, the idea is right, but Jolie’s instincts also tell her that time is not favoring her. The tip of the enemy MS’s beam saber is almost at the cockpit hatch of the WPG.

And Jolie is not even slightly concerned.

The telltale red flash of an Earth Federation Forces mobile suit beam saber slashes in a horizontal arc above the decaying backwards tilt of the WPG, halving the advancing Rick Diablo and altering its trajectory so that the beam of its saber falls well short of the WPG.

The Centurion Gundam turns towards its companion as the two halves of the wrecked Rick Diablo explode.

Captain Jonah Michaels’ concerned voice comes through Jolie’s helmet audio monitors, “You OK?”

“Fine,” Jolie replies, “Never need to worry with my guardian angel looking out for me.”

The two Gundams link hands, their pilots’ hearts sinking in dismay as they survey the disposition of the battle.

The Centurion Team is holding its own, but the United Forces and Archduchy of Zeon Forces appear deadlocked in stalemate. Thus far, the United Forces have halted the Zeons’ advance outside the perimeter of L5 orbit, but have failed to gain a meter in pushing the Zeon back.

Even so, the distant, flickering nuclear pulse flares hundreds of kilometers away, but drawing closer by the minute, is a harbinger of the scales tipping further and further against the United Forces’ favor…

Episode 49 to to be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 49 continued...

From the bridge of the Cassius, advancing at matched speed behind the Scylla and Charybdis colony lasers, Archduke Alexander Miguel demands from a bridge tech, “How much time remains before Side 6 comes into range of the colony lasers?”

“Your Majesty,” comes the prompt, crisps reply, “Side 6 colony Baldur Bay will be within effective firing range of colony laser unit Scylla in precisely one hour, fifty-one minutes, twenty-two seconds…within firing range of unit Charybdis in…one hour, fifty-six minutes, fifty-two seconds.”

“That is at maximum possible thrust output?” the Archduke inquires.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the tech rejoins, “In fact, that’s with 110% pulse overdrive. Any higher and we seriously risk damaging the colony lasers’ targeting alignment mechanisms.”

“That something so immensely powerful can be also so delicate,” the Archduke laments, perhaps thinking of more than just the colony lasers.

Watch as your enemies burn, Kyoko…

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

At the Baldur Bay space colony, Prime Minister Cameron Bloom and his friend, Earth Federation Senator Mirai Yashima-Noah personally help to direct fleeing refugees to numerous awaiting passenger, cargo, and war vessels prepared to evacuate the colony in anticipation of Zeon attack. Despite the generous number of civilian and military spacecraft that have volunteered to assist the mass exodus, the endeavor is more noble than practicable: there is simply no way to effectively evacuate one million people in two hours’ time.

Nonetheless, Cameron, Mirai, and thousands of other volunteers do what they can…to save as many as they can. Mobile suits ply the streets of Baldur City, maintaining order and assisting as best they can. On the streets, Earth Federation and Shambala Republic personnel corral civilians towards waiting spacecraft jamming the spaceport…all desperate to reach safety.

But many, many will be left behind…there are simply not enough ships or enough time.

“Mirai,” Cameron says discreetly into his cell phone, “How many people have left the colony?”

Mirai replies, “There’s no way to get anything like an accurate head count under the circumstances, but I’ve heard that something like 90,000 people are known to have boarded spacecraft during the past few hours.”

“Damn it,” Cameron curses, “That’s probably the fastest mass evacuation in human history, and it’s not NEARLY enough to avoid…what’s coming.”

“We’ll do the best we can,” Mirai says, “and pray that Bright, Hathaway, and Minerva will succeed in what they have planned so that none of this will have been necessary.”

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

On the bridge of the Earth Federation Space Armada flagship Admiral Tianem, General Noah braces himself against the restraints of his command seat as the shockwave from the explosion of the Federation battle carrier Fortitude, which had taken the brunt of a massive bombardment from three Zeon destroyers in an attempt to thwart their drive towards Side 6.

“Deploy all torpedoes and ready the megaparticle beam cannon,” Bright orders, “We can’t let the Zeon get any closer to Side 6! At this point, they’re only five kilometers from their weapons being within effective firing range of the colonies!”

The Admiral Tianem cuts loose with a barrage of over four dozen incendiary torpedoes, about an eighth of which penetrate the Zeon destroyers’ counterfire to drill their way deep into the starboard hull of one the destroyers, the Sidra, melting the interior decks of the Zeon warship with plasma whose heat rivals that of a star’s core. The second and third destroyers, the Cyprus and the Regan, evade the torpedoes and continue to bear down on both the Admiral Tianem and the Side 6 Zone. The beam cannon of the two destroyers pummel the hull of the Federation flagship, tearing away hull from several forward decks.

But the megaparticle beam cannon of the Admiral Tianem glows ominously red, electric scarlet fire erupting from its projection surface, and finally a stream of superheated and hyperaccelerated Minovsky particles rushes forth to render both the Cyprus and the Regan into exploding wrecks.

Bright and his crew scarcely have time to confirm the destruction of the two destroyers before a larger Zeon warship, the battleship Tsar Ivan, advances towards the Admiral Tianem and a squad of Federation frigates that have rushed into the fray to defend the Federation’s flagship.

But even this momentous struggle is merely one small corner of a much larger conflict, and its final outcome will be determined at a juncture yet to come.

Hathaway…Minerva…don’t let us down.

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

Hathaway Noah dispatches a Gellond with a well-placed beam rifle shot from his Oglu Aslan, then groans as he sees four more blips emerging on his forward scanner, “There’s no end to them! And we haven’t gotten a meter closer to those colony lasers!”

“We’re not going to get to them right now,” Minerva says as she directs her Kizi Aslan in hacking down a Rick Diablo with her mecha’s beam saber, “our goal is to hold the line until the main fleet gets here…about two hours, thirteen minutes from now.”

“I don’t know that we’re even going to last another two minutes under this pounding,” Hathaway replies morbidly, “and although we aren’t getting any closer to those colony lasers, THEY’RE getting closer to firing range of Side 6!”

“Keep them off balance,” Minerva says…not only to Hathaway, but to the forces under her command, “We might not be able to stop the advance of those colony lasers, but we can make it hell for the Zeon to aim them accurately. Disrupt them as much as you can, for as long as you can!”

It’s a sound strategy, Hathaway recognizes, and really perhaps the only strategy possible under the circumstances. Still, Hathaway is realistic to know that it can’t be sustained for long, and surely Minerva is aware of that too. Minerva is betting on the United Forces’ relief fleet from Luna 2 arriving before the colony lasers can reach Side 6.

Damn it, Minerva, Hathaway muses wryly, do you always have to gamble with such high stakes?

Yes. Yes, she does. Minerva Zabi has laid her chips on the table, and the stake is humanity’s future.

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

The battle rages on…scores of warships and mobile suits are lost on each side, and thousands of lives are snuffed out in exchanges of artillery fire and beam salvoes. As Death drinks her fill, time drips away…a minute…an hour…life by life…

“Your Majesty” a bridge technician aboard the Cassius reports, “Riah Republic space colonies are now within firing range of Charybdis colony laser unit.”

“Can we hit Baldur Bay from here?” the Archduke inquires.

“Negative, your Majesty,” the bridge tech answers, “Colony Baldur Bay still twenty minutes from coming within firing range. We can hit Colony Manchester from here. Predominantly a residential colony. Population: 612,337.”

“Paltrier target than would be ideal,” Alexander sniffs, “but likely adequate to induce surrender. Artasia Daikun and Bright Noah won’t suffer the deaths of Riah Republic civilians on their consciences. That’s the weakness we can exploit. Initiate firing sequence. Target: Colony Manchester.”

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

Minerva receives the word from Dory Ischinda, who is aboard her Javelin-AWAC Type – a standard Shambala Javelin mobile suit fitted with the most sensitive surveillance equipment yet to be developed.

“Minerva, we’ve got massive thermal buildup over at the Charybdis…it’s going to reach critical mass in T-minus four minutes, forty-four seconds.”

“Damn it,” Minerva hisses, getting a corroborating report from Sgt. Anna Horowitz of the Centurion Team and a half dozen other recon units spread across the theater of operations, “Dory…what are they targeting?”

The reply comes after ten poignantly slow seconds, “Colony Manchester: Bunch 1 of Side 6. Population upwards of 600,000…and not a single soul evacuated yet, Minerva.”

Minerva raises Captain Jonah Michaels of the Centurion Team, “Jonah…Jolie! Can any of you reach Charybdis or hit it with your weapons systems?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Jonah replies ruefully, “We’re pinned down by the Zeon fleet closer to Scylla. There’s no way we can get within firing range of Charybdis within the critical timeframe.”

“Captain Beecher?” Minerva tries.

“Negative, negative,” comes Captain Beecher’s Olech’s reply from the Amuro Ray, “we’ve taken heavy damage and not a single weapons system is online. The Amuro Ray needs to withdraw Minerva.”

“General Noah?” Minerva ventures.

Nothing but static from the frequency of the Earth Federation Forces’ flagship…which could mean anything from excessive Minovsky particle interference to the Supreme Commander of the Earth Federation Forces and his crew having been disintegrated.

No time to think of that now.

“Minerva…!” Hathaway calls out, his mouth parched, his heart pounding.

Minerva remains as inscrutably impassive as ever.

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

“Colony Laser Charybdis: solar energy charge at 97% and counting. T-minus eighty-six seconds to firing. Target: Colony Manchester, Side 6…Vector 3-4,” announces a control technician from the command center of the massive weapon.

Space begins to glow before the massive maw of the Charybdis as concentrated solar energy refracted through massive ruby lenses prepare to spew forth a stream of death.

Archduke Alexander Miguel watches it from the bridge of the flagship Cassius, donning flash goggles for the impending glare of a miniature sun igniting regional space.

“T-minus forty-two seconds to firing,” comes the update.

Alexander Miguel regards the Colony Manchester with cold impassivity. Six-hundred thousand lives…and all of them would not buy back a second of Kyoko’s life…

Making them utterly worthless to him.

“T-minus twenty-eight seco…!”

A hellacious bombardment slams into the Charybdis beam salvoes and missile hits.

“What…?!” Archduke Miguel rages through clenched teeth.

“Enemy bombardment from six o’clock relative, Your Majesty,” a bridge tech reports, “unidentified warships and mobile suits.”

Instead of wasting time and energy chewing out the bridge tech for his failure to identify the enemy units, the Archduke casts his eyes towards the aft view port to do so for himself.

But even Archduke Alexander Miguel finds himself at a loss to identify the unfamiliar swarm of warships and mobile suits bearing down upon the rear of the Charybdis and the Zeon Armada…warships and mobile suits bearing a distinct dagger and skull insignia…

A further update comes from the Charybdis, “Targeting mechanism compromised…angle of fire now off-target by 1.38 degrees. Colony Laser Charybdis commencing fire in five, four, three, two, one…ZERO!”

Space turns from darkest black to brightest white as the Charybdis discharges its deadly energy…

The deadly energy beam reaches forth…disintegrating all matter in its path…including a number of United Forces warships and combat mecha that had inadvertently drifted into the beam’s now-errant path…

The edge of the beam scorches Colony Manchester, ripping apart superstructure, tearing reinforced bulkheads, causing atmosphere, debris, and human flesh to be torn violently from the artificial environs of the space colony’s interior.

Four-thousand, seven-hundred and thirty-nine individuals perish at Colony Manchester from the attack.

The Crossbones Vanguard’s attack, Minerva Zabi’s gambit, had tilted Charybdis 1.4 degrees downward from its programmed vector of attack on Colony Manchester.

The difference is 612,598 lives.

Episode 49 to be continued...

[Ghaleon]

i really like your fanfic now. keep it up

[Ken Cheng]

i really like your fanfic now. keep it up

Thank you. Stay tuned for the finish of Episode 49, which will be a jaw-dropper.

And then, the GRAND FINALE: Episode 50 at last!

The adventure will then pick up in Part 3 of the saga, the first two chapters of which can already be read at FanFiction.net.

[Ghaleon]

Thank you. Stay tuned for the finish of Episode 49, which will be a jaw-dropper.

And then, the GRAND FINALE: Episode 50 at last!

The adventure will then pick up in Part 3 of the saga, the first two chapters of which can already be read at FanFiction.net.

I better not be diappointed. cheers.

[aliderhamy]

what site is that exactly ?

[Ken Cheng]

what site is that exactly ?

It's a large (possibly the largest) online repository of fan fictions from just about every conceivable genre (although interestingly, not wuxia).

If you've ever liked a movie, TV series, anime, etc., chances are there's a fan fiction for it there.

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 49 continued...

Despite having thwarted the Charybdis’ initial attack against Colony Manchester, Minerva realizes that it is far premature to declare victory. The Crossbones Vanguard’s initial salvo was sufficient to knock the Charybdis’ solar beam off target, but not enough to disable the colony laser. The weapon requires slightly over an hour’s time to recharge before it can be fired again…and by that time, it likely will be within firing range of the Baldur Bay Colony…capital of the Riah Republic, as well as a half dozen other space colonies in its path.

The Zeon Armada still stands between the United Forces and the Charybdis, and even now, the Zeon fleet is advancing towards Side 6…pushing the United Forces back.

But then, a curious thing begins to happen…Zeon mobile suits begin to collapse and fragment, and Zeon warships begin to erupt into paroxysms of ejecting shrapnel and sparks of electrical energy…

Minerva glances towards the four to eight o’clock arc high and sees a vast fleet of warships and mobile suits…all Earth Federation and Shambala Republic signatures.

“It’s the main fleet!” a voice…Hathaway Noah’s, exults.

And amidst the furious and thunderous entry of dozens of fresh United Forces warships and hundreds of United Forces mobile suits, the Admiral Tianem, horribly battered, but still serviceable…its primary cannon still belching forth beam fire.

“Move in,” General Bright Noah commands from the bridge.

“We need to make our way to Charybdis now,” Minerva amends, “It’ll be ready to fire again in less than an hour, and it’s still moving closer to Side 6’s more heavily populated colonies, including Baldur Bay. We’ll entrap the Zeon fleet and the colony laser between the Crossbones Vanguard and the main fleet.”

“Minerva,” Hathaway says, “What about the Scylla?”

“Later,” Minerva answers, “Let the Special Forces hold it off for a while longer until we take Charybdis.”

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

Aboard the Cassius, Archduke Miguel is in teleconference with his flag-ranking officers.

“Do not let them take Charybdis,” Miguel instructs his officers, “If necessary, sacrifice the colony laser, but at all costs, do not allow the enemy to take it intact. The Cassius will withdraw from this position.”

Vice Admiral Benz Acheron cannot mask his surprise, “Your Majesty? Where…?”

“I plan on personally defending the Scylla using the Azrael with the Ravenwing,” Miguel replies, “in the event that you fail at Charybdis. I trust that you won’t fail, Vice-Admiral.”

“The enemy will not have Charybdis, Your Majesty,” Acheron affirms, “I’ll die for that if need be.”

The Vice-Admiral and the Archduke exchange salutes before Alexander departs for the mobile suit deck in preparation to launch the Azrael and Vice-Admiral Acheron directs the Zeon Armada in one final surge against the rallying United Forces.

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

The United Forces and the Archduchy of Zeon Forces exchange heavy salvoes of fire amidst the advancing Scylla and Charybdis colony lasers for the next forty-five minutes, with the momentum turning between the two opposed forces seemingly by the minute. The Earth Federation Special Forces, with their attendant fleet, have kept Scylla beyond effective firing range of the Side 6 colonies, but Lt. Col. Christina McKenzie’s assessment is that the Special Forces will not be able to keep Scylla at bay for any more than another half hour at best. The Special Forces desperately need for the main armada to take the Charybdis quickly and come to their relief.

“Concentrate on their flagship,” Minerva commands, “It’ll be easier for us to advance if we take out the head of their command structure. The Zeon military is built on a strict hierarchy; cut off the head, and the body dies quickly.”

Responding to Minerva’s orders, the United Forces concentrate their firepower on Vice-Admiral Benz Acheron’s flagship, the Falcoria. The circle of the battle continues to contract. When the struggle started hours ago, the battle spanned a radius of hundreds of kilometers. That radius is now a mere three dozen kilometers, and grows shorter, it seems, with each new salvo of United Forces weaponry.

The Falcoria is rocked by another fusillade from the United Forces. The Zeon flagship’s weapons are nearly depleted (down to antiaircraft batteries and a few remaining torpedoes), and a bridge tech gives Vice-Admiral Acheron the grim report that the last of the Falcoria’s mobile suits has just gone down.

“We need to hold the line!” the Vice-Admiral shouts.

“But with WHAT, sir?!” a bridge tech retorts.

Acheron draws his sidearm and fires a shot into the tech’s skull, reinforcing discipline on the bridge with that action.

“Prepare to use this ship as a battering ram on the Federation’s flagship,” Acheron orders darkly, “If they want to cut off our head, then they’ll need to reciprocate with theirs. Do it NOW!”

The remaining bridge crew, having witnessed the Zeonlike fate of their comrade as a consequence of his un-Zeonlike conduct, rush to comply. A ship-to-ship collision is obviously hazardous, but somewhat more survivable (in theory) than a bullet to the skull.

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

General Bright Noah rises from his command seat as the bulk of the Falcoria looms ominously through the forward viewport of the Admiral Tianem’s bridge. Collision, it would seem, is imminent.

“Evasive maneuvers, now!” Bright orders.

The Admiral Tianem’s helmsman throws all of his skill and experience into the attempt, but the angle of the enemy ship’s approach, the distance, and time do not favor the Federation’s flagship.

Not that Bright casts much blame on his helmsman…the Admiral Tianem isn’t the White Base, and the helmsman isn’t Mirai, for which he can be grateful.

It all might be moot if the United Forces fail to take the Charybdis soon.

Such thoughts are on General Noah’s mind when a bright light through the forward view port convinces him that the end has finally come.

Bright looks out the view port a moment later and spots the Oglu Aslan mobile suit he knows is piloted by his son Hathaway, who has just blasted the Falcoria’s bridge to oblivion with a shot from the Oglu Aslan’s beam rifle.

Momentarily, the other Aslan, the Kizi…arrives in Wavediver configuration, its incendiary missiles slamming into the remains of the Falcoria and sending the Zeon ship’s wreck safely off course.

“General…” Hathaway’s voice comes through the bridge speakers, “Father…are you all right?”

“Fine,” Bright answers his son, “Thank you, Hathaway…and Minerva.”

“No time to waste,” Minerva interjects, “Now, while they’re disoriented from the loss of their command ship: attack!”

The United Forces push closer to Charybdis.

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

In the mobile suit deck of the Cassius, the normalsuited Archduke Miguel receives word of the Falcoria’s demise.

Miguel hisses in frustration, slamming his fist into the armor of the idling Azrael, “Damn them! Damn ALL of them! Now we must not lose Scylla as well!”

“This is Leader to flight deck command,” Miguel announces, “Azrael now set to deploy.”

“You’re cleared, Leader,” comes the reply.

The Azrael launches into combat...Archduke Miguel’s blood fiery with hatred, determined to vent his frustration against any enemy who approaches.

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

The United Forces break the Zeons’ last line of defense at Charybdis, as the few remaining viable Zeon combat units withdraw to consolidate the defense of the Scylla.

United Forces mobile suits and warships rush into the enormous barrel of the colony laser, firing upon the Zeon mobile suits still valiantly attempting to defend their prize.

“Minerva,” Hathaway says, “They’re ready to fire the colony laser again.”

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

The chief gunner of the Charybdis, prepared to carry out the Archduke’s directives, prepares to fire the weapon a second time…directly at the United Forces armada, then detonate the weapon’s self-destruct system.

Pressure tightens on the trigger mechanism.

The trigger, the gunner, and the entire chamber and all the personnel within it are lost in a wash of pure Minovsky beam energy fired from the beam rifle of the Kizi Aslan…the last shot of the rifle’s energy charge.

“Secure the Charybdis,” Minerva orders, “Round up all Zeon survivors and incarcerate all who surrender. Eliminate those who resist.”

The United Forces do so…taking custody of surrendering Zeon troops and confiscating their weapons, mindful of possible sabotage.

Minerva receives an urgent message from General Noah on the Admiral Tianem, which with the support of the United Forces Main Armada, is securing Charybdis from the outside, “Minerva, I just got word from Lt. Col. MacKenzie. The Special Forces are in grave trouble. They need reinforcements, in the double!

“We’re on our way,” Minerva says, transforming the Kizi Aslan to Waverider configuration, “Did Christina specify what kind of problem they’re running into?”

“Some sort of new mobile suit/mobile armor combination is ripping through the Special Forces and its fleet,” Bright replies grimly, “They can’t seem to get through it, and the Scylla is just minutes from firing range of Baldur Bay.”

“Where are Jonah and Jolie?” Minerva demands.

“They’re fighting their way towards Scylla,” Bright replies, “They’ll be going head-on against that enemy prototype.”

“Hathaway and I will be there as fast as we can,” Minerva says, “Deploy two squadrons to accompany us.”

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

The Azrael stands before the mouth of the Scylla like a black angel guarding the Gates of Hell…a monster defending an even larger monster. The Azrael’s Ravenwing Psychomm quills inflict horrible casualties upon all Special Forces mobile suits who dare to approach it.

“Scylla colony laser will be ready fire in T-minus nine minutes, thirteen seconds, Your Majesty,” the report comes to the Azrael’s cockpit, “Target: Baldur Bay Colony.”

“I’ll hold the line for you,” Miguel answers, “When Baldur Bay is in range and the charge in the Scylla is ready, open fire immediately…even if I haven’t cleared the path of fire.”

“Your…Majesty?” the tech asks…horror in his voice.

“Zeon is greater than any of us, even me,” Alexander says, “I ask my soldiers to die for Zeon. I expect no less of myself.”

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

The White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam have combined into PSI-Gundam configuration, and in this mode, slice a path through the legions of Zeon MS obstructing its path to the Scylla. With frightening regularity, the PSI-Gundam eliminates each Zeon combat mecha in its path…a juggernaut on an inexorable rampage.

They see their enemy at the end of the long gauntlet…a mobile suit as black as death, with an armored wing like that of a medieval demon’s.

It’s them.

Archduke Alexander Miguel spots the PSI-Gundam and feels the hate coursing through his heart.


Now, Kyoko…watch as I send the White Phoenix crashing to hell!

The Azrael and the PSI-Gundam fire upon each other simultaneously with their beam rifles, creating an explosion of kinetic energies that send both mecha careening momentarily out of control. Control regained, the two mobile suits lunge at each other with beam sabers drawn, commencing a duel of intricate maneuvers and feints that few other individuals could execute with such grace and fluidity.

Both MS deploy their Psychomm units, engaging the battle in dozens of different venues simultaneously even as the two host mecha continue the central struggle.

“MURDERER!” Jolie screams, her eyes flashing with rage.

“DEGENERATE!” Miguel answers, teeth gnashing with hate.

Without warning, PSI-Gundam disengages and separates into White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam. The WPG continues its assault on the Azrael while the Ravenwing detaches to attack the Centurion Gundam.

“Jolie, don’t!” Jonah warns, even as his attention is occupied by the Ravenwing and its Psychomm funnels.

Jolie’s assault drives the Azrael back…deep into the maw of the Scylla, which has started to glow.

No…it’s going to fire…we need to stop it! Jonah’s mind screams.

“Baldur Bay Colony within range,” the chief gunner of the Scylla notes, “Solar energy charge at 94%. T-minus one-hundred and forty-two seconds to firing.”

With a deft shot from the WPG’s beam rifle, Jolie shoots the primary cannon of the Azrael out of the enemy mobile suit’s hand.

Jolie raises the WPG high above the Azrael…her heart, her eyes…her entire body on fire.

“NOW YOU DIE FOR ALL YOU’VE DONE!” Jolie screams.

A powerful burst of white energy erupts forward from Jolie’s forehead…expanding beyond the cockpit of the WPG…amplified by the MS’s biosensor system. The energy glows white hot…no less destructive than the energy that the Scylla or Charbydis can spew…but more concentrated…focused upon one target: Alexander Miguel.

The deadly energy assumes form…the shape of a burning, fiery phoenix…a White Phoenix of PSI-energy…and reaches forth vengefully for the Azrael…unleashing a scream of rage and malice.

Glory forever to Zeon…Miguel has time to think.

The energy is met by another, energy stream…which also assumes an avian form…the noble form of a proud dove, which halts the momentum of the phoenix…creating an expanding white hot bubble of concentrated PSI-energy.

“JOLIE!” Jonah’s voice comes through the tactical network.

“Jonah…don’t,” Jolie grunts, “I…I can’t stop this…you’ll…”

“Alex,” Jonah says, his voice straining, “Get out of here! Go, NOW!”

The Archduke hesitates for a moment until his younger brother screams emphatically, “NOW!!!”

The Azrael vectors away from the dual Gundams and the lethal bubble of concentrated PSI-energy between them.

“Jolie…,” Jonah grunts out as he feels his energy waning, “I’m…sorry…so sorry.”

Jonah’s energy bubble collapses, and the White Phoenix’s energy washes across the armor of the Centurion Gundam, sending an electrical current of hundreds of thousands of volts coursing throughout the mecha’s superstructure, including straight into the cockpit.

Jonah feels cold as the electricity runs through his body…burning out tissues, organs, nerves, and frying his blood solid. His muscles lose strength.

Jolie, her eyes blinded with tears, screams desperately, “JOOOONNNAHHHHHH!!!”

The White Phoenix energy reaches out beyond the Centurion Gundam to strike at many critical components of the Scylla, including the focal lenses and the aiming mechanisms. The command center through which firing commands are sent to the cannon’s mighty servos is also annihilated by the White Phoenix PSI-energy…which consumes everything in its path.

Minerva and Hathaway, approaching in their Aslans, see it as a burst of energy in the form of a White Phoenix…exploding out the side of the Scylla. Minerva swears she sees a look of indescribable anguish on the “phoenix’s” face, tears of energy leaking from its white eyes.

The Scylla, which had glowed white hot only a moment earlier, goes dark and cold.

The Centurion Team approaches…each of them feeling an ominous wave of awareness arising in their hearts. 2Lt. Chieming Noah’s heart, in particular, goes cold with terror and grief.

“Jonah…?” she whispers weakly, tears coming suddenly from her eyes, “Jolie? Oh, no…oh God, no!”

“What happened?” Hathaway demands, “We heard Jolie scream out Jonah’s name through the tactical net, and then everything went dead. What happened to the Scylla? Where’s Alexander Miguel?”

“Later,” Minerva says in a subdued, trembling voice, “We have something more important to deal with now.”

Jolie stares at the burnt-out wreck of the Centurion Gundam in disbelief. This is a nightmare. It must be a nightmare.

“Jonah…” Jolie whispers numbly.

The WPG reaches out to its fallen companion, holding the other mecha in its arms.

“No,” Jolie whispers, shaking her head in denial, “NO! NOOOOOOO!!!!!”

The White Phoenix Gundam magnetizes the Centurion Gundam to itself, and rockets out of the silent, dark, cold maw of the Scylla…blasting towards the La Kaelum-II, which arrives upon the scenes with the rest of the United Forces Main Armada.

“Minerva,” Dory Ischinda’s voice comes through the audio monitors of the former Zeon monarch’s helmet, “the enemy forces are pulling back…leaving the Side 6 Zone. Should we pursue?”

“Yes,” Minerva replies flatly, “Please ask General Noah to lead the mop-up. I’m…going to be tied up for a while.”

With that, Minerva opens the visor to her helmet and places a gloved hand over her eyes. She begins to tremble as tears rush forth.

Oh, Jonah…Jolie…

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

Aboard the La Kaelum-II, there is pandemonium on the ship’s mobile suit deck as medical personnel extract Captain Jonah Michaels from the cockpit of the destroyed Centurion Gundam and rush him to the ship’s emergency medical room.

Jonah’s consciousness flickers in and out…he is vaguely aware of the medical personnel around him, fighting valiantly to preserve his life, knowing that they work in vain. But the only presence that concerns him is Jolie’s…whose warm hand he can still feel through his own, albeit fadingly, and whose anguished expression is the saddest sight Jonah’s eyes have ever beheld.

Twenty minutes later, Jolie sits catatonically on the floor of the medical bay waiting room, held down by two burly MPs, who had managed to subdue her only with the assistance of a tranquilizer.

Jolie, still clad in her normalsuit, her gloves stained with the blood that Jonah had coughed onto them, trembles fitfully…her eyes blank…her lips pale and tight.

Dr. Dennis Lu, the La Kaelum-II’s chief surgeon, emerges at last from the emergency treatment room. His expression is grim.

“1Lt. Minh,” Dr. Lu says gently, “I think you’d better join Captain Michaels. I’ve contacted the ship’s chaplain…”

“No!” Jolie growls, bursting free of the two MPs to rush into the emergency room.

“Jonah!” Jolie sobs, her heart breaking as she sees her mortally wounded soulmate lying on what is destined to be his deathbed, his life ebbing away.

Jolie takes Jonah’s hand in her own, sobbing, “Jonah…Jonah, I’m so sorry. This is my fault…all my fault. If I’d listened to you when…”

“Jolie,” Jonah says weakly, coughing up a bloody mist, “No regrets. The price…the price is paid now, Jolie. For your parents…for your brother…and for Joanie. You…you can let go of the hate…of the ghosts.”

“Jonah…” Jolie shakes her head.

“Jolie,” Jonah whispers, “I’m so…sorry. We…we promised we’d be together always. That we’d start a family together…spend our lives together happily.”

“It’s my fault,” Jolie repeats listlessly, “I’m…”

“Jolie,” Jonah says, his eyelids beginning to flutter as his consciousness continues to fade, “I…failed…to keep my promise to you. Will you…make one for me…and keep it?”

“Anything,” Jolie vows, “Just tell me.”

Jonah whispers painfully, “Jolie…you have a power…greater than anyone…even you…can understand it. You must not…use it for hate, Jolie. That power…must be used…to protect the innocent. To save lives…you have to promise…me…even after I’m gone…”

Jolie nod in understanding, “I will, Jonah. I promise: I’ll finish the work we started. I’ll do anything…damn it, Jonah…STAY WITH ME, please!”

Jonah shakes his head, and continues, “Alexander…Jolie, stop him. Save him!”

Jolie nods again, sealing the vow.

The ship’s chaplain arrives, and begins administering last rites as per Catholic tradition.

“Pardon me…Father,” Jonah says weakly, “No last rites…wedding vows. Jolie…she is my wife.”

The minister hesitates for only a brief instant before exchanging the ceremonies of last rites to wedding vows.

“Jonah Michaels,” the minister says gently, “do you take Jolie Minh to be your wife before the blessings of the Lord, in sickness and health, ‘till…death do you part?”

“I do,” Jonah whispers, smiling lovingly at Jolie, reaching out weakly with his hand to touch Jolie’s warm, smooth cheeks.

“Jolie Minh,” the minister says, “do you take Jonah Michaels to be your husband before the blessings of the Lord, in sickness and health, ‘till death do you part?”

“I do,” Jolie whispers.

“Then in the power vested to me by our Lord and Saviour, I pronounce you now and forever…husband and wife,” the chaplain concludes.

Jonah's consiousness begins to slip away as his arms embrace Jolie one last time. His hands then go cold as his heart goes still, and Jonah Miguel exhales his last breath.

“No,” Jolie growls, blinded by tears, “No…”

Jolie buries her face on Jonah’s chest, her heart filled with a pain more horrible than anything she has ever experienced…even the loss of her parents and her brother those many years ago…or the loss of the daughter that she and Jonah had conceived.

The chaplain says a final blessing for the couple, and a prayer for the departed, and then quietly leaves the emergency medical treatment room, switching the lights off as he exits…leaving Jolie and Jonah in darkness and silence…silence punctuated only by the bitter sound of Jolie’s sobs.

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

Aboard the Cassius, now on its way back to Side 3, Archduke Alexander Miguel removes his helmet as he listlessly exits the cockpit of his damaged Azrael mobile suit. He floats down to the deck, with the gait of a zombie risen from the grave.

The Archduke halts in mid-stride, throws his helmet down upon the deck, creating a resounding echo, and unleashes an inhuman scream that reverberates across the MS deck and terrifies all who hear it.


NEXT: THE BEGINNING OF THE END! EPISODE 50!

[Ghaleon]

wow, great drama Ken. Keep it up. Can't wait till the next ep.

[Ken Cheng]

EPISODE 50: THE ETERNAL FLAME (FINAL EPISODE!)

December 16, U.C. 0100…the perimeter of the Side 3 Zone

A dozen destroyers, three Salamis-class battleships, and three battle carriers from the Earth Federation Space Armada’s 2nd Division, 5th Fleet pound at the massed Chivay-advanced, Moussei-kai, and Qwajin-III Zeon Armada war vessels opposing them with heavy beam cannon salvoes and missile barrages. The attack of the Federal Forces’ fleet is savage, targeting each opposing Zeon warship with dozens upon dozens of heavy incendiary and plasma rockets and megaparticle beam strikes.

On the bridge of the Qwajin-III class battleship Ram, Captain Buckingham Longfellow perspires profusely as smoke rises on to the bridge from a conflagration burning on the lower decks. His communications officer already lies dead, slumped over his barely functional communications data terminal. Longfellow’s helmsman still lives, but has only one good arm with which to muscle the failing controls of the ship…his other arm shattered by the impact of a large section of falling metal debris from the collapsing ceiling of the bridge.

“Fire! Fire!” comes a horrified, distant shout from below decks…Longfellow can’t be sure if it’s an exhortation to shoot or a warning of the flames making their way closer to the deck. Shipwide internal monitoring systems went down more than ten minutes ago, and the veteran Zeon commander cannot even be certain that any of the Ram’s thirty-six gun emplacements or twenty-one missile tubes remains functioning. Longfellow believes that he might have seen the streamer tracks of a beam cannon issuing forth from the port side of his ship two minutes earlier, but in all the crisscrossing fire, it is difficult to be certain.

There is no uncertainty, however, about the missile impacts that slam into the starboard hull of the Ram, causing all but the emergency lighting on the bridge to fail.

“For God’s sake, if you hear me, we need support…NOW!” Longfellow screams desperately into an emergency communications line that he cannot be sure is still functional.

“…ndby,” comes a crackling, static-distorted reply, “…aser…nnon…wo minu…!”

“WE HAVE NO TIME, GOD DAMN YOU!” Longfellow erupts with a mixture of terror and rage that even twenty years of military experience and training cannot suppress any longer, “YOU HAVE TO…YEAAAGAHHHH!”

That final death cry echoes through a frantic Zeon Central Command back at Cosmic Alexandria, as the Ram and two more Zeon cruisers go down in a hail of Federation Forces ordnance.

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

At that same moment, aboard the Federation battleship Hanoi, Captain Felipe Marcos witnesses the destruction of the Zeon warships Ram, Berlin, and Dervish, but has no time to take any satisfaction as a swarm of Zeon mobile suits…Nova Dogas and Gellonds…rush forth towards the Federation fleet.

“Incoming enemy mobile suits,” Captain Marcos says into his communications link with Captain Roy Kramer, commanding officer of the 11th Mobile Suit Squadron, nicknamed the “Orkin Men” in tribute to their battle tactics.

Kramer’s response comes quickly and dryly, “Roger that, Captain. 11-Leader to 11-crew. We’ve got bugs coming up the pike. Ready the Raid.”

“Roger, 11-Leader,” comes the reply.

“Acquire targets and let loose when you’ve got lock-on,” Captain Kramer intones calmly.

Lock on achieved in sequence, the muzzles of the GM-IV’s beam rifles glow red and the covers of their missile launching tubes slide open to unleash a torrent of ordnance that cuts down the advancing Zeon combat mecha.

“Just like roaches,” Kramer enthuses with a wolfish grin.

“Hey, Cap,” Sergeant Sung-uk Han pipes up, “What the hell is that?”

“Hell,” indeed.

What begins as a faint glow in the distance grows rapidly brighter, seeming to double its incandescence and diameter by the second.

Before any of the “Orkin Men” realize what they are witnessing, they are awash in it…the concentrated and amplified energy of the sun, disintegrating their flesh and the reinforced titanium alloy of their combat mecha with seemingly equal ease.

The blinding, scorching, all-consuming energy continues to rush forth in an inexorable stream…eating away Captain Marcos’ Hanoi and its attendant assault fleet as if they had never existed.

“Fall back! Fall back!” come panicked orders from a dozen surviving Federation armada ships.

The Earth Federation Forces withdraw from the Side 3 Zone…back towards the relative safety of Side 6.

The massive maw of the colony laser cannon unit dubbed Chimera is done for the moment spewing its hellfire, and gradually fades from nova intensity brightness as the titanic weapon recharges its solar energy stores for its next firing.

More deaths incurred, even as earlier deaths are mourned…

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

09:00 hours, December 17, U.C. 0100, Baldur Bay, Riah Republic of Side 6.

Candles light the cavernous Gothic interior of Saint Matthew’s Cathedral located in the suburbs of Baldur Bay. A pastor solemnly recites a funereal rosary, bestowing his blessings upon the soul of a departed warrior.

No, not a warrior, although the departed did indeed take up arms in combat and ended his life in battle. He had entered the life of a warrior, so uncharacteristic of and repulsive to him, only because it was the only means by which he could work towards realizing the peace that he so cherished.

Captain Jonah Michaels, commanding officer, Centurion Team, Earth Federation Special Forces, was an artist…a painter who saw the beauty and the horror within humanity and captured both in images with his watercolors and oils. Of all the arts that Jonah mastered during his lifetime, cut short at a mere twenty years, the art of war was the one that came most unnaturally to him. Yet he pursued it well, albeit reluctantly, and in so doing saved countless lives…more than he ever knew.

Above all, however, Jonah is gone because he pursued even to the cost of his own life the salvation of one soul that he cherished more than any other... that of his wife, nineteen-year old 1Lt. Jolie Minh.

Jolie, clad in a black version of the Earth Federation Special Forces officer’s dress uniform, issued to officers mourning a fallen fellow officer, stands amidst a congregation of fellow mourners…many of them similarly clad in mourning dress. Their numbers include members of the Centurion Team, most notably 2Lt. Chieming Noah, whose eyes are red and swollen with unabated grief. Also present is Deputy Director Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic Movement, who was once Jonah’s commanding officer as Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of the Earth Federation Special Forces – finding comfort in the arms of her fiancé Hathaway Noah, Director of the Shambala Republic Intelligence Bureau. Also present are General Bright Noah, Supreme Commander of the Earth Federation Forces, Lt. Col. Christina McKenzie, Director of the Special Forces, and three dozen other Special Forces officers who had been acquainted with and served alongside Jonah. Rounding out the congregation are Dr. Camille Vidan of Anaheim Enterprises with his wife Fa Yuri, Captain Beecher Olech, commanding officer of the Earth Federation Forces space battle carrier Amuro Ray, and Shangrila heroes Judau Ashta and Lu Luka.

These individuals had been closest to Jonah during the final two years of the young idealist’s life, and had become like family to him. Conspicuously, though unspokenly so, none of Jonah’s actual family is present…

The pastor concludes his rosary with a series of blessings for the soul of the departed, delivered in the tongue of the Caesars. A choir of young boys then delivers a solemn dirge as an Earth Federation Forces Color Guard neatly folds the Earth Federation Government flag that had been draped over Jonah’s casket when it entered the cathedral early that morning, then grimly offers the flag and a Medal of Superlative Valor, to Jonah’s widow.

Jolie receives these items numbly. Her youthful, beautiful face is wan and lifeless…her eyes are devoid of the spark of life as twin trails of teardrops roll down her cheeks. She steps forward to Jonah’s open casket, kneeling before it as she looks upon the face of the man whom she loved more than any other one last time…a face so immaculately and strikingly handsome, even in death…his expression tranquil…serene…having finally left the war’s horrors behind forever.

Jolie touches Jonah’s cold, silent lips lovingly with her hand and then leaves two items on his uniform-clad chest…a golden wedding ring, and a customized Federal Forces uniform arm patch…emblazoned with two bounded hearts and the legend, “JoMi, JoMi!” in the form of a cross.

Jolie is pulled away from Jonah’s casket by Minerva and Chieming, just before the color guard closes the casket forever with a resounding finality.

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

In his sprawling private office within the Palace of Alexandria (formerly Zum Palace) at Side 3, Archduke Alexander Miguel buries his head in his hands. A large glass of brandy stands untouched on his desk.

Seated opposite the Archduke across the vast expanse of his desk is his sister, Dr. Nanai Miguel, whose tear-lined cheeks are evidence of her own grief.

“How much…how much did Jonah suffer?” Nanai asks at last, her voice a faint whisper.

A long minute passes before Alexander replies, “There’s no way I would know that, Nanai.”

“He was our brother…Alex,” Nanai says, “He turned against Zeon and became a soldier for the Earth Federation, but he was…is nonetheless our brother.”

The Archduke of Zeon sucks in his breath painfully, and on the exhale says darkly, “Assemble the Imperial Staff. We will begin making plans for our final assault on the enemy.”

Through her grief, Nanai shows enough reserve of sensibility to be alarmed, “Final assault? Alex…”

“Nothing else matters,” Alexander exhales without tone or inflection.

To be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

wow, great drama Ken. Keep it up. Can't wait till the next ep.

You didn't have long to wait.

If you liked 49, you'll *really* like 50. It all comes down to this!

[Ken Cheng]

Episode 50 continued...

Throughout many of the heavily populated colonies of Side 3, multitudes of terrified and confused civilians are herded by armed Zeon authorities into forced evacuations…taken from their homes, schools, businesses, and places of worship en masse for reasons that Archduke Miguel’s troops, their supposed protectors, do not explain.

“Into the carriers, all of you!” a Zeon officer bellows as his troops prod and push the civilians towards the spaceport, “If you’re slow, you’ll be left behind! Trust me: you DON’T want to be here when we blast those Federation swine to atoms!”

“Don’t want to leave…!” one civilian protests.

“…our homes!” another civilian’s voice complains over the din.

“…no right to do this!” a third civilian’s voice is heard briefly before being lost amidst the clamor.

“QUIET!” the officer thunders, “The Archduke was right: the future belongs to those unafraid to make sacrifices! You cowardly, selfish degenerates have no place in it! We should leave you to the Federation’s guns!”

There is pushing, shoving, blows exchanged, and debris thrown. Finally, there is gunfire, and scores of corpses felled by bullets. There is the rage of masses weary of being oppressed by uniforms of all cuts and colors, and contrary to the Zeon officer’s judgment, are not so cowardly as to continue to accept it without a struggle.

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

“…reports of mass rioting at over a dozen colonies,” General Davenport finishes telling Archduke Miguel, “They don’t understand that we’re trying to help them…to spare them the humiliation of becoming subjects of the Earth Federation again.”

“Then Zeon does not need them,” the Archduke replies coldly, meticulously cleaning out the barrel of his sidearm, “Zeon is a fortress of the strong – not a refuge for the weak.”

Davenport hedges, “Extermination?”

“No,” Miguel replies, peering across the top of the barrel of his pistol, “Waste of ordnance. Just let them burn.”

The order is received, conveyed, and carried out within the hour. Zeon troops begin to abandon the colonies, not neglecting to destroy or disable the life support systems before they leave. The Archduke has determined that the disloyal are to be left to die, but he has also made it understood that they are not necessarily to die quickly…

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

The La-Kaelum-II, December 20, U.C. 0100, 16:00

Appropriately, the Centurion Team’s temporary billeting aboard the La Kaelum-II is as dark and silent as a tomb. With their commanding officer, Captain Jonah Michaels, slain, the team is rudderless and has temporarily been taken off the active duty roster, although combat needs assure that such will not be the situation for long.

The central issue concerning the immediate future of the Centurion Special Operations Team, by far the most accomplished and capable combat unit in the Earth Federation Forces, is chain-of-command. With the loss of Captain Michaels, protocol and procedure dictate that his second-in-command, 1Lt. Jolie Minh, should succeed him as the commanding officer of the team.

Based on the ship’s surgeon’s and ship’s psychologist’s reports, as well as plain observation, however, that plan does not seem tenable, because 1Lt. Minh is not only Captain Michaels’ second-in-command, but now also his widow. After appearing unresponsive after three days of observation, Jolie has been taken off the active duty roster by Lt. Col. Christina McKenzie, Director of the Special Forces, who has also appointed 2Lt. Chieming Noah as acting commander of the Centurion Team until either 1Lt. Minh is able again or a new permanent commanding officer is assigned to the team.

Paralyzed with grief and guilt, however, the White Phoenix of the Earth Federation Forces might never spread her wings again…

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

“C’mon, Jolie, snap out of it!” 2Lt. Chieming Noah implores, “You’re going to dry up if you don’t at least drink something!”

Maybe that’s her intent, Chieming reflects sadly as she determinedly pushes a spoonful of broth in the direction of Jolie’s face.

Chieming could not have gotten less of a response if she’d offered that spoonful to a corpse. Jolie lies on her infirmary bed, as she has for three consecutive days, silent and unmoving, her black eyes fixed upon nothing. If not for the barely perceptible shallow chest motions indicating the drawing of exhalation of breath, Chieming would doubt that Jolie is still alive at all.

“Jolie…” Chieming pleads for the umpteenth time that day, perhaps the hundredth time in the past three days, “Jolie: the team needs you. The war isn’t over yet. Alexander Miguel is still out there and he’s still dangerous. If we don’t finish him off now, who knows how many more he’ll kill?"

No response. No sound. No movement.

“Jolie, I know you hear me,” Chieming persists, “Answer me, damn it!”

Nothing…nothing except the wretched mask of unfathomable grief that, to Chieming’s eyes, appears as if it has burned itself onto Jolie’s visage forever.

In a moment of uncharacteristic anger born of frustration, Chieming snaps, “Enough is enough! You’re not the only person who’s ever lost someone she loved to war! Billions of people have known that kind of heartbreak since the wars broke out twenty years ago! There’s only going to be more unless we put an end to it! We need you, Jolie!”

Silence. Stillness. Indifference.

Chieming withdraws the spoon, setting it back in the bowl that lies on the nearby bed table. She takes a seat on Jolie’s bed and sits silently for a long moment, emotionally spent.

“I loved Jonah too,” Chieming says at last in a low, choked whisper, “I loved him too…”

Jolie turns her head towards Chieming; it’s as much of a response that Jolie has given to any stimulus in as many days.

“I know that I couldn’t love him more or better than you did,” Chieming says through tears she can no longer fight back, “but God help me, Jolie, I sometimes dreamed…I sometimes wished…”

Chieming feels Jolie’s hand as it reaches out and takes Chieming’s own. Jolie says nothing, but in her mind, Chieming hears Jolie’s voice, I understand.

Chieming and Jolie embrace, sobbing quietly…pouring out their shared grief. If they had ever been rivals for Jonah’s affection, their rivalry was never stronger than their friendship. The loss of Jonah has laid things bare between them, and the two young women know that whatever might happen from here onwards, the bond between them has only grown stronger.

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

Two hours later, Chieming waits patiently on the flight deck of the La Kaelum-II as a space shuttle registered to the Shambala Republic arrives. A few minutes pass as the deck operations crew properly moors the spacecraft and the airlock fills with atmospheric pressure and oxygen.

The hatch of the space shuttle opens and two passengers disembark…one is Chieming’s older brother, Hathaway Noah, and the other is the Deputy Director of the Shambala Republic, Minerva Zabi, once known as Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz, commanding officer of the Centurion Team.

Minerva gets to the point before Chieming can even offer her a greeting, “How is she?”

“Alive, but not living,” Chieming replies, “Jolie’s a wreck, Minerva. What can we do?”

“I’ll talk to her,” Minerva says, “but it’s not up to us. It’s up to Jolie. She must be willing to continue living.”

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

Minerva enters Jolie’s darkened room alone, leaving Chieming and Hathaway behind. The former Centurion Team commander lingers at the door for a moment, quietly watching her friend as she languishes upon her sickbed.

Minerva then approaches slowly, the only sound in the darkness being the subdued click of her boot heels upon the tiled floor.

Minerva notes that Jolie’s eyes are open, but Jolie does not turn to face her. Even so, Minerva knows that Jolie is aware of her presence, even if she is indifferent to it.

Minerva crouches before Jolie, gazing penetratingly into large, dark eyes that seem to have died.

Minerva breathes deeply before whispering, “Do you still remember…the promise I made to you the day I asked you to join the Federation Forces?”

Silence.

Minerva continues, “I remember promising you that if you joined me, we’d create a world in which we’d never need to see any of our loved ones die in war…ever again.”

Jolie’s eyes moisten; her cheeks are already streaked red.

“We haven’t succeeded…yet,” Minerva says quietly, “I don’t want to fail…neither do you, I know.”

Silence.

Minerva persists, “You can lie in that bed and cry forever. That’s your right if you want to claim it. But the death and suffering that sickens you will continue. I made a promise long ago. So did you that day. So did Jonah. Do you remember?”

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

“Jolie,” Jonah says, his eyelids beginning to flutter as his consciousness continues to fade,“I…failed…to keep my promise to you. Will you…make one for me…and keep it?”

“Anything,” Jolie vows, “Just tell me.”

Jonah whispers painfully, “Jolie…you have a power…greater than anyone…even you…can understand it. You must not…use it for hate, Jolie. That power…must be used…to protect the innocent. To save lives…you have to promise…me…even after I’m gone…”

Jolie nod in understanding, “I will, Jonah. I promise: I’ll finish the work we started. I’ll do anything…damn it, Jonah…STAY WITH ME, please!”

Jonah shakes his head, and continues, “Alexander…Jolie, stop him. Save him!”


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

Jolie begins sobbing…the first sound that has issued forth from her in many, many days.

“Jolie,” Minerva says gently, placing a hand lightly on her younger sister-at-arms’ shoulder.

“I understand…,” Jolie says at long last between sobs, “But ‘Thena…there’s so much I don’t understand…that I’ll never understand!

Jolie buries herself in Minerva…in Athena’s embrace and releases her grief with sobs that seem like they will tear through her chest. Minerva holds Jolie gently, and sobs with her.

And they remain in that state for long, long moments…in the silent, still darkness.

Athena Ibaz and Jolie Minh.

Sisters.

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

Half an hour later, Minerva emerges alone from Jolie’s still darkened sickroom. Chieming sees Minerva’s somber expression and her hopes sink.

“Any change?” Chieming asks.

“We’ll see,” Minerva says cryptically.

Hathaway Noah puts a comforting hand on his younger sister’s shoulder, “Jolie will be all right, Chibi. She’s tough. Minerva…got word from Da…from General Noah and Dr. Daikun. They want us to meet with them at Baldur Bay right away.”

Minerva begins striding towards the space shuttle awaiting on the La Kaelum-II’s deck, “Let’s go then. Chieming: watch over Jolie.”

“Affirmative, ma’am,” Chieming responds instinctively.

Minerva and Hathaway are about to leave, but the couple has not taken two steps towards the awaiting shuttle when Minerva turns back towards Chieming and says, “Actually, Chieming, why don’t you come with us? Jolie needs some time alone to work things out, and as it’s likely that you’ll be assigned to command the Centurion Team, at least for the time being, you’re going to need to hear this.”

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

The trio is at Baldur Bay an hour later, gathered in a reinforced bunker that is the United Forces’ temporary headquarters. In a conference room are gathered General Bright Noah and Lt. Col. Christina McKenzie of the Earth Federation Forces (as well as a few assorted other Federal Forces flag-ranking officers), Director Artasia Daikun of the Shambala Republic, Governor Cameron Bloom of the Riah Republic, Chief Executive Meitzer Ronah of the Buch Concern, and a young Earth Federation Forces Intelligence Corps officer (in the Intelligence Corps’ distinctive grey-hued uniform) who has the attention of the gathering.

Minerva, Hathaway, and Chieming promptly step into the conference room. Within an instant, the Intelligence Corps officer, a tall, handsome, dark-haired young man of about twenty-five years of age, locks eyes with 2Lt. Chieming Noah.

“Sorry we’re late,” Minerva says, “If you’re all ready, let’s begin.”

General Noah begins the proceedings by indicating the Intelligence Corps officer, who stands near the projection screen wall at the front of the conference room, “This is Captain Eric Gardner of the Intelligence Corps.”

Minerva smiles in recognition, “It’s been a long time, Captain Gardner.”

Gardner salutes smartly, “Yes, ma’am. It’s good to see you again, Lt. Col. Ibaz.”

“It’s ‘Miss Zabi,’ now, Captain,” Minerva responds.

General Noah cuts in, “Let’s get down to business: Captain Gardner has brought us vital new intelligence that we need to act upon immediately. We’re facing a grave, imminent threat. Captain…?”

Gardner darkens the room and projects an image onto the screen wall, “These are images that we captured from Side 3 about ten hours ago: we noted the abrupt movement of five space colonies towards the perimeter of the Side 3 Zone. Thermal scans indicate much higher energy levels coming from within those colonies than required for standard colony operations.”

“Colony lasers,” Minerva says.

Gardner nods, “Yes, ma’am. They’re being maneuvered via nuclear pulse thrust in the direction of our forces. At current speed, they will breach the Side 3 perimeter in about three hours and will arrive within firing range of our position within nineteen hours.”

“We don’t have any time to waste,” General Noah declares, “If we do not liquidate Miguel now, he’ll liquidate us. All forces will mobilize immediately.”

“What’s our battle plan?” Minerva asks after a moment’s thought.

“We don’t have time for finesse,” the supreme commander of the Earth Federation Forces confesses, “Our armada will launch a frontal assault.”

“We can’t afford to concentrate our resources and give the enemy an opportunity to wipe us out in just a few strikes,” Minerva says, “It would be more prudent for us to use a multi-pronged approach: the Federation armada should deploy to disperse the advancing colony lasers and Zeon fleets – draw their fire and drain their energy – and then our Shambala forces can strike at them with our nuclear stockpile.”

Meitzer Ronah nods in agreement, “I concur. We already have nuclear armaments armed on a dozen Shambala and Crossbones Vanguard ships. We can blow those colony lasers to stardust.”

Minerva adds, “Repairs are almost completed on the Charybdis – the colony laser we captured from the enemy. I’m planning to put that into lunar orbit…let it just drift like space debris towards the dark side of the moon. After we hit the Zeon Forces with the armada and the nukes, we can use Charybdis for a knockout punch. I need to warn you, however, General Noah, that the casualties to the Federal Forces will be extraordinarily high. We’ll be counting on the Federation armada to take the brunt of the enemy assault while we ready the nuclear and colony laser options.”

General Noah closes his eyes for a long moment, then sighs, “I understand. The Shambala fleet simply isn’t large enough to hold the colony lasers and the Zeon Armada at bay, and your chances of deploying the nuclear warheads successfully while under fire is minimal. Very well, then – drawing the fire of the enemy falls to the Federation Forces.”

The flag-ranking Federal Forces officers in the conference room raise their voices in protest, but General Noah overrules and silences them, “I understand your concerns, but I concur with Miss Zabi’s judgment: it’s the best option available to us under the circumstances. We knew the day that we became soldiers that sacrifice is essential to winning a war. So many of our comrades-at-arms have already made that sacrifice.”

Jonah…

“All prepare to move out,” General Noah orders.

As the personnel begin to file out of the room…with a series of looks that go unnoticed.

Minerva Zabi looks towards the back of the departing General Noah, her father-in-law to be, with a knowing gleam in her eye.

Meitzer Ronah looks towards Minerva Zabi with a self-satisfied smirk.

Director Artasia Daikun looks towards both Minerva and Ronah with distrustful reproach.

Soon, the conference room is empty except for two pairs of eyes…2Lt. Chieming Noah’s and Captain Eric Gardner’s.

Gardner packs up his gear and prepares to depart, but before he leaves, he turns to Chieming, “You’re with the Special Forces, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Chieming replies with a salute, “2Lt. Chieming Noah, Centurion Special Operations Team, sir.”

“General Noah’s daughter?” Gardner ventures.

“Yes, sir,” Chieming answers.

“Wow,” Gardner says with a smile, “Hey, Lieutenant…after this is over, I’d like to meet up with you again.”

“I’d…enjoy that, Captain,” Chieming replies, her heart pounding.

“Good luck out there,” Gardner says, “because I do really want to see you again.”

Chieming smiles, “I’ll bear that in mind, sir.”

“Nobody’s here right now,” Gardner replies mischievously, “Call me Eric, Chieming.”

“Right, Eric,” Chieming answers with a smile.

To be continued...

[Ken Cheng]

continued...

“The enemy is likely to attack on three fronts,” Archduke Miguel informs his high command staff, “their fleet will advance upon Side 3 from L4, L5, and will likely also overrun Grenada for use as a beachhead in a direct invasion of Zeon. Before they can do so, however, they will be incinerated by the fire of the TARTARUS INITIATIVE.”

The Tartarus Initiative: the top echelon officers of the Zeon High Command have been privy to that name for weeks now, and most of them even have a general idea of what it entails, but the Archduke’s present discussion is the first time they have gained any extensive knowledge about the plan.

“Discounting the colony lasers Scylla and Charybdis, which were previously disabled by the enemy and abandoned by our forces at L5, we now have five colony lasers online: Polyphemus, Cerebus, Antaeus, Argus, and Chimera, the last of which we have already deployed to successfully repel an enemy attempt to pierce our perimeter. When the enemy attempts to invade Side 3 with the bulk of their forces, we will burn them in the crossfire of five colony lasers.”

The Zeon High Command staff exchange worried looks, knowing that the Archduke’s gambit is high-reward, but also high-risk. Success, they know, will depend on how effectively they can corral the attacking United Forces armada into the crossfire of the colony lasers.

As if reading their thoughts, the Archduke says, “Gentlemen: Zeon is depending on you. This is the time when heroic legacies are set forever.”

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

Back at Baldur Bay, Minerva Zabi fixedly contemplates the data provided to her by Captain Eric Gardner detailing the locations and dispositions of the Zeons’ five newly deployed colony lasers.

In Minerva’s hand is a titanium Earth Federation Forces ink pen, one of the few possessions she’s managed to hang on to from her days as an Earth Federation Forces officer. She twirls it nervously in her cybernetic left hand as she ponders the battle to come…a battle that Minerva knows will be decisive.

Minerva reasons that Miguel’s forces will likely attempt to concentrate the United Forces attack fleet at a vector from which they can eliminate the United Forces in a single strike…perhaps catching the bulk of the United Forces into the crossfire of the five colony lasers.

To avoid such a fiery demise, the United Forces would need to disperse their forces so that the Zeon cannot bring the five colony lasers to bear on the entire United Forces armada at the same time, but that would greatly hamper the United Forces’ ability to contend with the Zeon Forces at Side 3, to say nothing of taking control of the colony.

Which means that the five colony lasers must go…

I have one colony laser at my disposal, Minerva considers, Miguel and his officers might or might not be aware of that. What they definitely are unaware of, however, is the nuclear stockpile that we’ve got. If we get in a good first strike with the colony laser and the nukes, we might throw them off just enough for the Federation fleet to penetrate the Side 3 perimeter with minimal casualties.


The question is…do I want it to?

Minerva squeezes the titanium pen in her hand, shattering its shell with the power of her bionic fingers and palm. The red ink within the implement oozes out, spilling upon the stainless steel of Minerva’s hand.

A pair of warm hands comes to rest gently upon Minerva’s shoulders, startling her momentarily until she recognizes the handsome, familiar face of Hathaway Noah.

He looks so much like his father, Minerva reflects, removing a handkerchief from the breast pocket of her jacket to wipe the red ink from the fingers of her artificial limb.

“I brought you some coffee,” Hathaway says with a tender smile, “I figured you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.”

“Thank you,” Minerva responds, taking the tin cup from him, “Are…how’s your relationship with your father these days?”

Hathaway takes a sip from his own mug of coffee before giving Minerva a quizzical look, “That’s an odd question to suddenly ask…especially right now.”

Minerva smiles, “I wanted to think about something else besides the war for a moment.”

“Considering where we were for years,” Hathaway says, “it’s been one hell of an improvement. I think both of us now have a better understanding what had happened all those years ago…with Quess and with Lt. Agi. I think there was once a great military leader who said that war doesn’t allow us to be our better selves.”

“I know which one,” Minerva says cryptically, repocketing the handkerchief, “and he was right. Damn him: he was right.”

Is it the inescapable destiny that we Zabis will always betray those who trust us? Minerva wonders bitterly.

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

Two hours later, the captured and repaired colony laser cannon nicknamed Charybdis is maneuvered into lunar orbit by a fleet of Shambala Republic ships, including the Mapother.

Debris accumulated from recent skirmishes against the Zeon forces is strewn about the Charybdis, whose internal mechanisms have been restored to working order, but whose outward appearance has deliberately been left battered and scarred. For all practical purposes, Charybdis appears to be just a massive derelict colony, like so many hundreds of others created by these twenty years of war.

Charybdis begins its slow orbit around the moon, drifting almost prosaically from Luna’s light side to its dark side…

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

December 22, U.C. 0100, 21:54 hours

On the La Kaelum-II’s MS deck, the Centurion Team is on standby alert…prepared to deploy at a moment’s notice. They have inspected their combat mobile suits’ systems in triplicate, and have complete confidence in the readiness of their machines.

What they are much less certain about is their own readiness.

The Centurions are still reeling from the loss of Jonah, who was not only their commanding officer…their leader, but also the best friend any of them have ever had. Jonah never had the combat instincts or tactical acumen of his predecessor, Athena Ibaz, but no other commanding officer was ever so empathetic…so humane.

Such a characteristic perhaps was not ideal for a combat unit leader, but Jonah’s spirit has nonetheless bound the Centurions together during these long months of intense combat. His passing has left them rudderless, feeding their fears and anxieties because they know that in combat, a unit disunified is a unit doomed.

Holding them together has fallen upon the shoulders of 2Lt. Chieming Noah, who prays that she doesn’t buckle under the strain. While it is true that she commanded the team on an interim basis for several months on Earth while Jonah and Jolie were MIA, the team did not see much heavy combat during that period. Now, however, they are about to enter perhaps the decisive battle of the war…one that entails much more than the team’s survival.

Their failure could turn the course of history in favor of Alexander Miguel and the Archduchy of Zeon.

Chieming would do her best…give her life if need be, as she vowed to do the day she became a soldier, but she has no illusions that she can be the difference-maker…

The door from the ship’s interior cabin decks to the MS launch deck slides open, and the Centurions collectively turn their heads; their eyes widen and their jaws drop in disbelief as they take in the sight.

1Lt. Jolie Minh stands before them, clad in her silver and red-trimmed normalsuit, her helmet carried in the crook of her elbow, sidearm strapped to her side. She looks the same as ever…girlishly beautiful…but there is a solemnity to her expression and a focus that they haven’t seen in her before.

“Jolie…?” Chieming ventures uncertainly.

“Ship’s surgeon has given me a clean bill of health,” Jolie says flatly, “I’m taking command. I want all of you ready to deploy…not just physically, but mentally…emotionally, at an instant’s notice. Of all the battles we’ve fought, this one will be the most important…and one way or another, maybe the last…at least with this enemy. We’re not going to fail!”

“Ma’am!” the Centurions salute in unison, their morale meters having gone from nearly zero to one-hundred and ten during the past two minutes.

Another familiar figure appears in the mobile suit deck, Lt. Col. Christina McKenzie, Director of the Special Forces. The Centurions turn to salute their Director.

Christina returns the salute crisply and says, “I’ve come to make it official: as of now, 1Lt. Jolie Minh is the commanding officer of the Centurion Special Operations Team.”

The Centurions restrain their urges to cheer, knowing that under the circumstances, it would not be appropriate.

Christina continues, “The Centurion Team and other remaining Special Forces units will be deploying to support the United Forces’ assault on the Zeon Armada at Side 3. Our objective is to destroy the Zeon war machine and liberate Side 3. Details of the operation will be uploaded directly into your MS combat computers shortly, but I’ll tell you all this much: the Zeon Forces have five operational colony lasers waiting for you near the Side 3 Zone.”

The Centurion Team has already known about this for a few hours, having been informed by Chieming after she learned the information from her new friend, Captain Eric Gardner of the Intelligence Corps. Still, having it affirmed by Lt. Col. McKenzie causes them to draw in their breaths in apprehension.

“We’ll be relying on the Special Forces to help us neutralize the colony lasers and break through the Zeon perimeter,” Lt. Col. McKenzie says, “your MS will be armed with extra payloads of heavy ordnance for that purpose. 1Lt. Minh…I need a private word with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jolie replies with a salute, with subsequent orders for her team to assist the technicians in arming the extra weapons payloads onto their MS.

Christina takes Jolie into a private conference room, and says to her grimly, “Minerva gave us one of Shambala’s nuclear warheads; she asked me to have it installed onto your White Phoenix Gundam.”

“To hell with the Antarctic Treaty, eh?” Jolie says sarcastically.

“To hell with that since Miguel dropped those colonies on Earth,” Christina affirms, “We have a plan to eliminate the enemy’s colony lasers, but if somehow, our plan comes up short…Jolie, we need you to be our ace in the hole. Literally.”

“I’m ready,” Jolie says, staring out of the conference room’s view port towards the direction of Side 3.

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

01:38 hours, December 23, U.C. 0100

Across dozens of warships and aboard hundreds of mobile suits among the United Forces and Archduchy of Zeon Forces, soldiers deploy for combat. Farewells have been said, prayers offered, combat preparations made ready, and fears set aside.

1Lt. Jolie Minh’s silver-gloved finger plays across, then presses the “Startup Initiator Sequence 1” button on the console, then drifts lightly over to the right to press “Startup Initiator Sequence 2.” The powerful hum of her mobile suit’s engine confirms critical mass.

The NCX-01 White Phoenix Gundam is raised onto the launch deck of the La-Kaelum-II, and swung out onto the launch catapult. Launch crew technicians clear the deck as the datum lights of the La Kaelum-II’s OLS sequence from red to yellow.

Jolie draws in an audible breath and closes her eyes for a moment, offering a silent prayer.


Jonah…help me fulfill the promise I made to you, my love.

Jolie opens her eyes as the datum lights glow green.

Jolie exhales her breath and says into the communications link in her helmet, “This is Centurion Leader to all units…move out!”

The White Phoenix Gundam tears forth from the launch deck at 110 knots. Within moments, the rest of her squad follows behind her.

to be continued...

[Ghaleon]

Best episode so far, keep it up

[Ken Cheng]

MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM: THE SECOND CENTURY PART 2 FINALE!

Aboard the Cassius, almost simultaneously, Archduke Alexander Miguel seals the collar and wrist links of his black and red normalsuit as an aide hands him his helmet.

General Ross Davenport says, “Alex, surely you don’t need to go into MS combat personally. We need you to command.”

“I’ll command from the front,” the Archduke says dryly, “the way a true Zeon warrior does.”

Perhaps sensing the sting of those words, Alexander turns to his loyal subordinate with a smile and a pat on the shoulder, “But of all the Zeon warriors I’ve served with during these many years, none have been truer than you, old friend.”

Davenport is tightlipped as he replies, “I dedicated my life to service to the Archduchy long ago, Alex…even when you were just a boy and I served under the command of your father during the One Year War.”

Alexander says, “That’s why I need you to stay behind and command our forces from the rear, Ross. I will be depending on you. All of Zeon is depending on you. I can think of no better man to take command.”

Davenport salutes, “I will not fail you or Zeon, my lord.”

“Thank you, Ross,” the Archduke says, pulling on his helmet, “For today…for everything.”

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

The Archduchy of Zeon Space Armada, deployed in full force, forms a protective perimeter around the Side 3 Zone, flanked by five massive colony laser cannon - Antaeus, Argus, Cerebus, Chimaera, and Polyphemus. More than 600 mobile suits have been deployed as well, amassed for a final showdown with the approaching United Forces.

At the front of the Zeon Forces is Archduke Alexander Miguel, aboard his ebony Azrael mounted with the Ravenwing Psychomm Weapons System.

“Have all colony laser weapons systems on standby,” Miguel orders, “but do not fire until the enemy is concentrated in position where we can eliminate the bulk of them in crossfire.”

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

The cosmos is naturally silent…at least to the hearing of the living beings that originated from the Earth. Sound, as human beings perceive it, is caused by the vibrations that travel through the air to reach their eardrums. Airless space accommodates no sound, although scientists as far back as the 21st Century of the old calendar had built instruments that reinterpreted the infrared energy wavelengths given off from the dawn of the universe as “background noise” that human ears could discern…

Whatever the disposition of the universe to sound might be, a preternatural silence has fallen upon the relatively (in cosmic terms) miniscule space between the surface of Earth’s moon and the space colonies of Side 3, where two great armies are arrayed against one another, prepared for their decisive clash.

In terms of numbers, the Archduchy of Zeon Forces hold a nearly two-to-one advantage in capital warships and a three-to-two advantage in mobile suits, to say nothing of the five colony laser cannon that the Zeon have proverbially hidden in plain sight amidst the heavily-populated space colonies of the Zeon homeland.

Under Archduke Miguel’s direction, the Zeon Forces have organized themselves into assault forces of five warships attended by twenty mobile suits, spread fairly thin, each assigned to hunt down a corresponding United Forces combat unit and herd it towards a pre-determined set of coordinates at a pre-determined time.

As per Minerva Zabi’s recommendations, the United Forces have dispersed themselves widely across the combat theater, making them a difficult target for the Zeon Forces to pinpoint; this maneuver will spare them the fury of the Zeon’s colony lasers, but will leave them vulnerable to the Zeon Armada.

The long prelude to this final battle has finally passed; for the children of the First Universal Century, the day of Ragnarök has finally come.

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

“I want an opening salvo directed towards the greatest concentration of their warships!” General Bright Noah bellows from the bridge of his command ship, “All ships: fire at will with all missiles and mega particle beam cannon!”

And so, with what would certainly be a thunderous cadence if sound could travel through the emptiness of space, scores of missiles disgorge themselves from the launch tubes of the massed Earth Federation Space Armada’s ships…and mega particle beam cannon flash an angry red.

Some of the missiles and beams strike home on Zeon warships and mobile suits, causing them to collapse inward like aluminum cans stricken with sledgehammers. Many more Zeon combat craft, however, survive the salvo, and answer with hellfire of their own…sinking one Federation frigate and damaging at least three others.

Even the Federation command ship captained by General Noah takes a hit from a stray missile, though damage is localized to nonessential decks and the ship remains combat-worthy.

Bright sends a general order down the chain of command throughout the entire Federation Armada, “Remember that no matter how the enemy pushes you, do NOT concentrate forces! We don’t know exactly where their colony lasers are stationed at this point, and the enemy will get us all if they catch us in the cannon’s crossfire!”

The order is received and adhered to as much as possible, but with the Federal Forces units outnumbered by the enemy nearly two-to-one, the Federation commanders know that it is only a matter of time before the enemy forces them to close ranks.

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

Archduke Miguel reduces another Jegan unit to scrap with a searing burst of beam fire from the Azrael’s beam rifle as he surveys the situation. His forces are pushing the Federation fleet away from the Side 3 perimeter, but have not yet corralled them to a location from which the colony lasers can take out majority of them.

Maybe they need some more aggressive coaxing, the Archduke decides.

“This is the Leader,” Miguel instructs, “Ready the Cerebus for firing.”

“Yes, m’lord,” comes the prompt reply, “Target, m’lord?”

“Anywhere there are Earthist scum to incinerate,” Miguel says coldly.

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

Colony Laser Cerebus, Colony 57 of Bunch 19 of Side 3, was known as “Sunnydale” in its previous incarnation. It had been a lush residential colony, and also included a light industrial section that housed the corporate headquarters of many of Side 3’s consumer electronic firms.

Severely damaged by fighting between the Federation and Zeon forces in U.C. 0079, the colony was abandoned for a number of years until it was reincarnated into its current configuration as a weapon of mass destruction.

Yesterday’s placid Sunnydale is today’s terrible Cerebus, and instead of casting the warm, life-affirming rays of the sun upon the people who lived within it, Cerebus now converts that same solar energy into an irresistible destructive stream of heat energy that sears flesh, bone, and alloy alike.

The Cerebus’ massive, maw-like barrel begins to glow with the telltale signs of imminent catastrophe.

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

From his command ship, General Noah sees it, and his eyes widen in alarm, “ALL SHIPS AT COORDINATES G-6! CLEAR THE AREA NOW!”

Bright’s orders barely escape his lips before the blinding light surges forward, passing a kilometer above the bridge of his command ship, and rushing forth to consume no fewer than seven Federation warships and as many as twenty-eight mobile suits. The destructive energy does not stop until it burns a new crater six kilometers wide and two kilometers deep into the lunar surface, a mere twelve kilometers from the perimeter of Anman City.

“That madman!” snarls Bright.

“General,” comes Minerva Zabi’s voice through Bright’s headset, “We’re preparing the second phase of the attack.”

“You’d better hurry,” Bright advises.

Minerva replies, “I saw what just happened. We’re going to respond.”

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

On the Crossbones Vanguard destroyer Corleone, a single missile, its armored shell painted bone white, is lifted out of its protective chamber and sent through a system of automated chutes into a high-pressure barrel.

“Missile armed,” a tech intones, “Target acquired. Ready to fire on your command.”

The captain of the Corleone, having received the command signal from Meitzer Ronah and Minerva Zabi, gives the order, “Fire at will, Lieutenant.”

The missile is raised into firing position, aimed with the assistance of targeting computers, and launched…straight into the midst of the Zeon Armada. Then, responding to a microwave signal from the Corleone, the warheads unleash 50 kilotons of force, engulfing a dozen Zeon warships and three times as many mobile suits.

Mere instants after the pile-driving impact of the detonation of the nuclear warhead from the Corleone, Minerva Zabi issues a new order, “Charybdis, standby…make sure to line up both target objectives before opening fire.”

“Roger, ma’am,” comes the reply from the tech.

The Charybdis’ maneuvering thrusters come to life, directing the barrel of the massive weapon at an angle in line of sight of two high-heat signatures.

“Targets acquired,” another tech says flatly, “energy buildup at 80%. T-minus fifteen seconds to firing.”

During those fifteen seconds, a dozen more Federation and Zeon mobile suit pilots die in exchanges of beam rifle fire and missile salvoes. Who is to say whether or not they were fortunate to miss what comes next?

Charybdis’ six-kilometer wide, thirty-kilometer long barrel churns with concentrated and hyper-accelerated starlight, which belches forth a burning stream of plasma energy that lances forth from the shadow of the moon towards Side 3.

The beam smashes through a squadron of Zeon warships before immolating Charybdis’ two brothers Antaeus and Polyphemus.

Fratricide, just like Cain and Abel and Romulus and Remus.

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

“DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM ALL TO HELL!” Archduke Miguel rages through clenched teeth as he strikes the control console of the Azrael with his fist, causing the combat computer to flicker momentarily after he witnesses the destruction of the Antaeus and the Polyphemus.

Through his helmet monitors, Miguel receives reports from a dozen fronts indicating chaos and disorientation among his forces in the wake of the enemy’s one-two punch of the nuclear missile detonation and the colony laser attack.

“Argus standby to fire,” Miguel orders darkly, “Target the source of that last colony laser strike: let’s see how effective they are after being defanged.”

Within moments, the Argus has achieved critical mass…its energy stores at 100%. For the third time in thirty minutes’ time, a colony laser unleashes the sun’s energy in a concentrated beam across the expanse of space between Side 3 and Luna.

The Argus’ beam strikes the Charybdis head-on, completely destroying its counterpart before boring yet another circular scar upon the face of the moon’s dark side.

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

Minerva Zabi witnesses the Charybdis’ demise without surprise or trepidation; the weapon has fulfilled its function.

Minerva contacts General Noah, “General…move in now.”

The Earth Federation Space Armada begins to congregate upon the Side 3 perimeter from numerous directions, finding the resistance of the Zeon armada suddenly porous and feeble…still reeling from the double-blow of the nuke strike and the sudden loss of two of its colony lasers from the firing of the Charybdis.

But the Archduchy of Zeon did not become one of the greatest military powers in the history of human warfare by lacking in resilience. As the shock of the double-strike by the United Forces fades, the Zeon Forces regroup and reassert themselves, fighting with renewed intensity as the United Forces press them back into the Side 3 Perimeter.

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

“Hold them outside the perimeter!” General Ross Davenport orders from the Zeon High Command’s reinforced bunker at Cosmic Alexandria, “We still have the Argus, Cerebus, and Chimera, but we won’t be able to bring them to bear on the enemy if they penetrate into Side 3!”

Aboard the Azrael, Archduke Alexander overhears his trusted subordinate’s commands and dark inspiration alights upon him…

“With all due respect to General Davenport,” Alexander says across the Zeon Forces’ tactical network, “I’m overriding that last order: all forces withdraw into the Side 3 perimeter…”

“Your Majesty?” Davenport says, “Why…?”

“Those Earthists won’t concentrate their forces so long as they fear that we’ll strike at them with our colony lasers,” Miguel replies, “They’ll lose that fear after they enter the Side 3 Zone because they believe that we can’t fire the colony lasers into Side 3.”

“Your Majesty,” Davenport responds with alarm, “Then you mean…?”

“We’ll draw them into Side 3,” Miguel affirms, “Into the heart of Zeon. There, they will concentrate their forces, believing that they have us. And then…”

“Your Majesty,” Davenport says a third time, “Our people…”

“…will understand,” Miguel finishes for him, “The Zeon people are strong. They understand the value of sacrifice for a greater cause. My brother…my brother Jonah understood. The Archduchy of Zeon is more than a cluster of space colonies. Zeon is greater than any and all of us. They will understand.”

“Yes, m’lord,” Davenport responds at last, “The Earthists will perish: I vow it, my lord!”

En masse, the Zeon fleets and mobile suit squadrons begin to withdraw into the Side 3 perimeter…fighting fiercely as they go, but clearly falling back.

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

General Noah’s many years of combat experience and soldier’s instincts sense something wrong about that. The Zeon Forces are heavily battered, but no more so than the United Forces. They put up a resilient resistance only minutes ago; why would they suddenly withdraw?

Nonetheless, the path to Side 3 has opened up for the United Forces, and as their strength has already been nearly halved by the battle up to this point, Bright knows that his forces must take Side 3 now because they will not have another, better opportunity.

“All forces,” General Noah says decisively, “Advance into Side 3 Zone, but exercise caution.”

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

Amidst all this activity, the Centurion Special Operations Team has been struggling through its own small niche of the war, pitting its mettle against that of the best of the Archduchy of Zeon’s MS pilots…the Archduke’s Guard – Alexander Miguel’s handpicked elite, normally assigned to his own personal security detail, but now deployed to the front lines to meet the demands of this decisive battle.

The pilots of the Archduke’s Guard have certainly proven their mettle to the Centurions and the other MS pilots of the Federation’s own elite Special Operations Forces. The Archduchy of Zeon originated MS warfare, and these daughters and sons of Spacenoids have demonstrated that space is their domain, and they are well-versed in how to wage war in the airless void.

1Lt. Jolie Minh, the newly christened commanding officer of the Centurion Team, jukes and twists her White Phoenix Gundam to dodge the incoming beam and missile fire from three Gellond-S types at her five, six, and seven o’clock positions.

The pursuit has gone on for approximately seventy seconds. Jolie’s teammates are each engaged in his or her own struggle with enemy units and cannot come to her relief.

What’s the matter with me? Jolie berates herself,I’m the leader of this squad now. It’s my responsibility to make sure they all survive.


Jolie reconfigures the WPG to mobile suit configuration and turns the WPG around, opening fire with the beam rifle while thrusting out the WPG’s left knee and simultaneously drawing out the WPG’s beam saber.

During the two years of her career as a combat MS pilot to date, Jolie has been known as a quick-killer pilot…invariably targeting and always striking at the enemy unit’s cockpit or nuclear fusion engine, guaranteeing fatality.

Her approach today, however, is one that seemingly seeks to avoid death: her beam rifle shot strikes at an essential command relay conduit in the Gellond’s upper torso, the destruction of which severs the connection between the control cockpit and the weapons and maneuvering systems of the mobile suit, but leaves the mecha intact and its life-support systems functional. The knee to the second Gellond’s thoracic area breaks several key gears that immobilize the MS, but spares its pilot anything worse than a concussion. The beam saber drag, rather artistically, cuts the reinforced cockpit out of the Zeon war machine with surgical precision.

A PSI-spark emanates from Jolie’s helmet, as she senses a mounting danger at the coordinates where the Federation Armada is bearing down.

“Damn!” Jolie curses, General Noah and the armada are sailing into a trap!

“This is Centurion Leader to armada command ship: General Noah! Get out of there, now!” Jolie calls out desperately.

Nothing. Too much Minovsky Particle interference.

“Jolie, what is it?” 2Lt. Chieming Noah, having monitored the tactical network, asks.

Not wanting to alarm Chieming, Jolie says, “Just mind that bandit at your four o’clock position, Lt. Noah.”

Jolie’s eyes flash as her PSI-energy cuts through the Minovsky Particle field.

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

On the bridge of his command ship, General Bright Noah hears…no, doesn’t quite hear…at least not with his ears, but he’s had this sensation before…during the One Year War…with Amuro Ray…during the Gryps Conflict with Camille Vidan and during the First Neo Zeon War with Judau Ashta…

He detects the thoughts of Jolie Minh in his own mind.

General Noah! The enemy is about to fire its colony lasers at the Federation Armada! Get out of there, now!

Bright’s eyes widen in alarm. His intuition had proved correct, and his experience tells him to always heed the warnings of an allied Newtype.

Bright looks out the viewport of his command ship; to his horror, a large part of the Federation fleet is already deeply engaged in fever-pitched broadside combat against the Zeon armada amidst the colonies of Side 3.

“This is General Noah! All ships disengage and withdraw imme…”

General Noah has not even finished getting the orders out when the hellacious light of three colony laser cannon rip forth simultaneously, immolating Federation and Zeon warships alike, and not sparing even the still-populated Side 3 colonies in their path.

That insane bastard! Bright realizes, even as he shields his eyes from the horrible glare, He’s willing to sacrifice his own troops…even his own citizens, just to destroy us!


The glare passes, and Bright’s techs confirm what his slowly returning vision begin to tell him.

More than two-thirds of the Earth Federation Space Armada has been atomized.

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

Aboard the Shambala Republic ships Mapother, Cruz, and Mitchell, a trio of missiles, each tipped with 50-megaton nuclear warheads, are armed and loaded into launch tubes. The colony laser units Argus, Cerebus, and Chimera having been fired fewer than three minutes earlier, still glow with residual heat…making them obvious targets.

“Targets acquired and locked: colony lasers Argus, Cerebus, and Chimera within firing range,” a tech announces.

“Open fire,” Minerva Zabi rasps harshly.

The missiles sail forth at multiple Mach velocity. Within minutes, dual ballooning conflagrations spanning dozens of kilometers mark the destruction of the Argus and the Cerebus as the warheads hit home, rendering the two colony lasers into debris.

The third missile, however, is sent careening off course by a well-placed shot by a pursuing Zeon mobile suit; the missile veers into deep space…far, far off-target.

“Two hits, one miss. Argus and Cerebus confirmed destroyed,” the same tech intones, “Chimera remains intact and functional.”

“Damn it!” Minerva curses. The United Forces Armada has only one more nuclear missile.

Minerva raises Jolie on the tactical network, “Minerva Zabi to Centurion Leader.”

Jolie replies immediately, “Here, ‘Thena.”

“Jolie, listen,” Minerva says grimly, “We’re out of options. It’s up to you. Down the Chimera before Miguel can do any more damage with it.”

“Roger, ma’am,” Jolie responds.

Jolie hits maximum thrust on the WPG, jetting through the Side 3 perimeter, fighting her way through screens of Zeon MS obstructing her path.

2Lt. Chieming Noah gives the order to the rest of the Special Forces, “You heard Minerva: we’ll back Jolie up! Go! Go! Go! GO!”

Heeding Chieming’s spirited command, the Special Forces MS tear through the Side 3 perimeter.

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

Archduke Miguel’s visage has taken on a decidedly demonic mien in response to the destruction of the Argus and the Cerebus.

He has only one functioning colony laser remaining, and although he has succeeded in eliminating seventy percent of the Earth Federation Forces Space Armada, he has not touched the Shambala Republic’s forces, which have only now started to enter the Side 3 Zone en masse and, fresh and undamaged in any significant manner, and are routing the already badly mauled Zeon forces.

Archduke Miguel’s forces fight valiantly and relentlessly, as he expects them to, but the Federation Armada’s initial assault has whittled them down too much for them to resist the onslaught of the second wave of the United Forces’ attack, led by the Shambala Republic Forces.

Miguel knows that his forces will struggle down to the last man, mobile suit, and ship, but will only delay the inevitable.

These degenerates and their traitorous confederates will not defile the heartland of Zeon again, the Archduke resolves.

The Archduke issues the order to the command crew of the last remaining colony laser, the Chimera, “This is the Leader: you will target and open fire upon Cosmic Alexandria immediately.”

There is a moment of terrible, utter silence across the Zeon tactical network as the implications of Miguel’s order sinks in: the Zeon homeland, where Zeon Daikun founded the Zeon Republic a half century ago, where the Zabis came to power and ruled over the Archduchy of Zeon for a decade, and had long been the ultimate refuge of Contolist ideology, has been targeted for destruction by the Archduke of Zeon.

The question is in every man’s mind: Has the Leader gone mad?

General Davenport, however, lends the necessary perspective, “Your Majesty, we understand and agree with your objective. We are the people of Zeon: we will never submit to those Earthist swine and their collaborators. We will perish proudly, like true Zeon men and women, before we allow that filth to profane us with their touch. Our people are ready and waiting, Your Majesty: send us to the eternal cosmos!”

“Thank you, Ross,” Miguel says with uncharacteristic warmth, “It is decided. This will be the final testament of our people. We are Zeon, and we are indomitable!”

“SIEG, ZEON! SIEG, ZEON! SIEG, ZEON!” comes the thunderous response.

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

“Power at sixty-five percent,” a tech in the command center of the Chimera announces, “Seven minutes, fifty-two seconds to firing.”

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

From the cockpit of the Kizi Aslan, Minerva sees the telltale glow of the Chimera charging up, ready to fire another salvo. Minerva’s heart begins pounding in horror as the Aslan’s combat computer confirms what her eyes have already told her.

Minerva raises Jolie on the tactical network again, “Jolie! You have to hurry! Miguel is going to fire the Chimera at Zum City!”

The capital of Side 3, one of the most heavily populated space colonies in orbit, home to fifteen million citizens.

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

In the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam, Jolie responds by shifting her Wavediver configuration mobile suit into overdrive thrust…pushing the thrusters into near meltdown conditions.

“Danger!” the AI of the WPG’s combat computer warns, “Power output to thrusters surpassing design limits! Unit integrity threatened!”

Jolie tunes out the warning, diverting energy from non-essential systems further to the thrusters.

Ahead of her lies the Chimera, but it remains still more than a dozen kilometers out of range, every meter of which, it seems, is obstructed by enemy mobile suits and warships.

Jolie screams with rage as she dives among them, weapons blazing from the WPG; she no longer has the luxury of finesse or mercy.

The timing indicator on the WPG’s cockpit monitor indicates that she has precisely six minutes, thirty-seven seconds to reach her target objective.

Jolie is within two minutes of coming into range of the Chimera and already arming the single nuclear missile with which Minerva equipped her, when she sees the final obstacle in her path, and her heart runs cold.

Confronting her is Archduke Miguel’s signature mobile suit, the Azrael, with its Ravenwing Psychomm device armed and primed.

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

“All forces, move in!” Minerva orders, “Relieve the remains of the Earth Federation Forces Armada! Take down as many enemy units as you can and beat a path straight to the Chimera! We must disable it before it fires!”

The Shambala Forces respond with a devastating show of force that further decimates the already gutted Zeon Forces, but Chimera still remains tantalizingly out of reach of their weapons. Even if they reach the Chimera in time, their weapons systems might not do enough damage quickly enough to save Zum City…

Jolie…Minerva prays.

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

The Azrael and the White Phoenix Gundam exchange beam cannon fire. Miguel chops viciously at the WPG with the multiple weapon systems of his WPG, the Federation mobile suit barely avoiding his strikes.

Inside the cockpit of the WPG, Jolie has retracted the nuclear warhead within the WPG’s armored shell and concentrates on avoiding the Azrael’s strikes. Alexander Miguel is a formidable foe, and coupled with the advanced technology of the Ravenwing, is proving nearly as dangerous as Kyoko Yamaguchi had been.

A shot from the Azrael’s beam rifle following a dynamic spin maneuver comes perilously close to striking the nacelle that houses the nuclear warhead.

Jolie counterfires, but hits nothing other than empty space. Before Jolie can regroup for a second shot, Psychomm Funnels from the Ravenwing attack from behind, buffeting her off course and ensnaring the WPG in a web of electron energy.

“NO!” Jolie snarls, a PSI-spark from her helmet expanding into an energy beam that radiates from the armor of the WPG and neutralizes the energy bubble in which the Psychomm Funnels had trapped her mecha, also immolating the offending funnels in the process.

“Two minutes to firing,” the combat A.I. indicates, referring to the firing of the Chimera. Jolie’s eyes confirm the computer’s assessment.

“You!” Alexander Miguel snarls across the tactical net, “You are the one who murdered Kyoko and Jonah! Degenerate Earthist b*tch: even if all of Zeon must be destroyed as the price, YOU WILL DIE TODAY!”

“Stop it, Miguel!” Jolie snarls back, “Don’t make me break my word to Jonah!”

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Miguel spits back, slashing at the WPG with the Azrael’s beam saber, “You ruined my brother, and then you murdered him!”

Jolie answers with a parry from her WPG’s own beam saber, and these words, “Jonah gave his life to redeem all the evil you’ve done! If there’s any human decency in you at all, stop this attack NOW!”

Miguel responds to Jolie’s demand by simultaneously deploying ALL of the Azrael’s weapons systems at the WPG.

Jolie twists, jukes, and thrusts away from the incoming hail of fire…missiles and Psychom Funnel beam strikes by the dozen…all pushing her farther away from the nuke’s range of the Chimera.

“One minute to firing,” the A.I. announces.

Jolie lets out a grunting scream and directs the WPG to reverse directions, nearly snapping the mecha in two in the process. She fires the weapons of the WPG to counter the incoming firestorm, allowing the mecha’s armor and the energy shield created by her own PSI-powers to deflect the rest.

The WPG soars back within range of the Chimera.

Jolie fingers the controls to re-arm the nuclear missile. A reinforced hatch opens in the WPG’s armor and the nuclear-armed rocket emerges from an interior nacelle.

“Missile armed. Acquiring target,” the A.I. intones coldly.

Jolie has the Chimera, once a space colony that housed three million souls, bracketed in the targeting scopes of the WPG’s cockpit.

Jolie’s mind sparks; the Azrael dives upon the WPG with its beam saber extended.

Jolie strikes with a counter thrust of the WPG’s own beam saber.

The golden beam of the Zeon mobile suit’s weapon passes three meters to the left of the departing nuclear warhead, slicing off the WPG’s right arm.

The red beam of the WPG's beam saber, carried in the Federation mobile suit’s left hand, sinks directly into cockpit of the Azrael.

As his body begins melting away, Alexander Miguel, the Archduke of Zeon, has time for one final thought…

Kyoko…

“Five seconds to firing,” the A.I. announces as the nuclear missile hits home on the Chimera.

A hellish glow emanates from within the Chimera as violent energies intermingle for a moment before the colony laser explodes with nova intensity.

The exploding remains of the Azrael and the heavily damaged, but still mostly intact WPG are thrown apart by the resulting catastrophic explosion…the WPG’s computers transform the MS into Wavediver configuration and expends the last of its thrust to stay barely ahead of the destructive shockwave.

In the cockpit of the WPG, Jolie holds her helmeted head and screams with frustration and rage…she has destroyed the Chimera and saved countless lives at Zum City, but has failed to keep her promise to Jonah.

Jonah…Jolie sobs bitterly…Jonah, I’m so sorry…I failed…I couldn’t save your brother…


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

The battle continues to rage across Side 3, but over the course of the next thirty-six hours, the direction of the tide is clear as ship after Zeon ship broadcasts its surrender message or is destroyed by United Forces warships. Federation and Shambala Republic mobile suits begin flushing the remaining occupying Zeon Forces from the Side 3 colonies.

And then, at precisely 14:59, December 25, U.C. 0100, the message is received from Cosmic Alexandria from General Ross Davenport of the Archduchy of Zeon, “The Archduchy of Zeon hereby accepts the terms of surrender issued by the United Forces Armada…”

At long, long last…the war is over.

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

In Zum City, no longer called Cosmic Alexandria by its inhabitants, there is mass celebration and rejoicing in the colony’s wide boulevards and open plazas as the flag of the Archduchy of Zeon is lowered and subsequently replaced by the flag of the Shambala Republic…a white field surrounding a cluster of pristine space colonies lit by the warmth of a gently radiant yellow sun….

By that evening, Director Artasia Daikun of the Shambala Republic is received by the people of Side 3 with warmth and affection. The people chant triumphantly…not “Sieg, Zeon” or even the director’s name, but a word that has taken a paramount value to these people besieged by a generation of war, “PEACE! PEACE! PEACE!”

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

Minerva Zabi steps reluctantly into the dark, abandoned halls of Zum Palace, the residence once occupied by the Zabi Royal Family and, more recently, by elements of Archduke Miguel’s regime. The population is still reveling in their newfound peace and independence, and the looters and vandals have not found their way to the palace yet.

Minerva is in the Hall of Portraits, where massive oil paintings of her grandfather, Archduke Degin Zabi, and her uncles and aunt Giren, Garma, and Kishiria…and her father, Dozle, hang on the walls. Their portraits are the embodiment of disdain for life and all that they could not subjugate or crush under their iron heels.

But Minerva spares no attention for those portraits, looking instead at a much smaller portrait hung in that same chamber…a portrait of a family…her own. Prince Dozle, his wife Princess Zenna, and their infant daughter Princess Minerva…oblivious to the terrible future that awaited.

Minerva sinks to her knees before her parents’ portrait and begins to sob uncontrollably, “Father…Mother…forgive me. I betrayed and destroyed all that you built so that there might be hope for a better world than the one you left behind…”

Another figure, Hathaway Noah, enters the chamber. He steps quietly towards his fiancée and takes her into his arms, kissing her on the cheek and holding her gently as she unleashes her sobs.

Minerva and Hathaway linger in the chamber for a quarter hour longer, and then, Minerva removes the portrait of her family, clutching it lovingly in her arms. She then reaches into the breast pocket of her jacket with her cybernetic hand and extracts a flame pistol, aiming it at the portrait of Archduke Degin Zabi.

Minerva pulls the trigger and sets the portrait of her late grandfather on fire. Soon, the flame spreads…igniting the portraits of Giren, Dozle, Kishiria, and Garma. The ghastly images of the Zabis burn as if demons in the fires of Hell…

Minerva and Hathaway depart the Palace of the Zabis forever, not looking back as the room burns…

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

12:00, January 1, U.C. 0101

Shambala City, Side 3, The Republic of Shambala

The sound of musical chanting is heard in the streets of the newly liberated and renamed capital city...a song...not quite a national anthem...but a folk song in the truest sense...a song of the people.....

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.

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?

The joyous chanting subsides as Prime Minister Artasia Daikun, elected almost unanimously by the Congress of the People of the Shambala Republic as the new republic’s first head of state, takes the dais in the central plaza of the city as an audience of billions prepares to listen to her first address as Prime Minster. The Prime Minister is greeted with joyous applause and cheers that echo throughout the space colonies.

Artasia waits for the applause and cheers to fade before she begins, “Fellow citizens of Shambala: the long, dark night that threatened to engulf us for a generation has finally passed. The dawn of a new sun has appeared on the horizon, and at long last, the light of peace and freedom will shine upon humankind. A generation ago, my father stood before you at this very spot and proclaimed the dawn of a shining new era, but ominous clouds of war soon darkened his bright dreams. But as is the case with each new morning, the light returns. This is a new day, and a new century. In this Second Universal Century, we the people will set right the wrongs of yesterday, and we will bring fresh hope for peace and justice for tomorrow…not only for the people of space, but for our brothers and sister of the Earth.”

Artasia’s speech is greeted with a multitude of cheers…and a few knowing smiles, particularly on the lips of Meitzer Ronah, now Defense Minister Meitzer Ronah, who sits behind Artasia on dais.

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

Not far from the central plaza where Prime Minister Artasia gives her speech, Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi shares some time with her best friend, Captain Jolie Minh-Miguel of the Earth Federation Special Operations Forces, before she takes the dais to deliver an address of her own. Minerva is characteristically dressed in the refined, respectable pantsuit of a state diplomat, and Jolie, in her Earth Federation Forces’ dress uniform, an overcoat draped over her shoulders in the style that Minerva herself once favored when she called herself Athena Ibaz.

Jolie is somber as she listens attentively to Prime Minister Artasia’s speech until Minerva puts a comforting hand…her right, flesh hand, on Jolie’s shoulder.

Jolie smiles wanly at her sister-at-arms, “Mission accomplished?”

Minerva replies, “This mission, at least. My parents’ war is over, but a new, different kind of struggle is just beginning.”

Jolie nods, “We’ll support each other. Just as we always have.”

“Thank you, Jolie,” Minerva says, “How are you holding up?”

Jolie replies grimly, “I’ll be fine. I vowed to Jonah to continue what we started…to secure the peace that we’ve won. There’s a great amount of work to be done to keep that vow.”

Minerva answers, “Take care, Jolie. There’s still a great amount of evil in this universe, some of it hidden in plain sight. Always be vigilant.”

The two friends exchange a warm embrace as they bid each other farewell to pursue their separate paths.

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

Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi takes to the dais to address the republic at 13:13, the response to her presence muted and polite compared to the wild enthusiasm that had greeted Prime Minister Artasia Daikun. Minerva understands and the people’s reluctance to fully embrace her. She is a Zabi, after all, and she has accepted that she must earn the people’s trust.

Beginning now…

“Fellow citizens of Shambala. Forty years ago, my grandfather Degin Zabi committed a horrible crime against Prime Minister Daikun’s father that precipitated a tragedy that has claimed more than half of humanity over the course of the past three decades. As such, many of you rightfully believe that I have no place speaking before you today. Prime Minister Daikun has set aside our familial vendettas to work with me so that we could rectify the crimes and errors of the past…to make the Second Universal Century a more peaceful, just, and secure time than the First. Once before, a Daikun and a Zabi led the Spacenoids in a quest for freedom to embrace humanity’s destiny, but all too human flaws such as greed, envy, selfishness, and lust for power twisted that noble dream. But I vow to you that in the Second Century, we will succeed where our forefathers failed. In this Second Century, we will realize that dream. In this Second Century, we will fulfill the promise of a better tomorrow.”

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

The speech is overheard by the members of the Centurion Team on their communications band…MSgt. Anna Horowitz, FSgt. Geoff Sutcliffe, Chief Warrant Officer Tomo Higashi, Chief Warrant Officer Karim Abdul Al-Said, 1Lt. Chieming Noah, and Captain Jolie Minh-Miguel, aboard their mobile suits on the deck of the La Kaelum-II as the ship prepares to depart Side 3 for its home dock at Garrison Noah in Side 7.

Jolie extracts from the pocket of her normalsuit the “JoMi/JoMi” patch that she and Jonah had made seemingly a lifetime ago. She holds the patch close to her heart.

Jonah, my love…I’ll always remember all that we shared, and I’ll continue the work that we started.

A disembodied voice that Jolie recognizes at Jonah’s responds within her soul.

Jolie…I’ll always love you, and I’ll be waiting for you.


The crescent of the emerging sun rises brightly over the rim of the moon, shining brilliant rays of life-affirming light upon the La-Kaelum-II, the mobile suits of the Centurion Special Operations Team, and the space colonies of Side 3…the eternal flame of life and hope.

Jolie grips the controls of the WPG in her normalsuit-gloved hands, and announces to her squad, “This is Captain Minh-Miguel to all Centurions: let’s move out.”

“Mission objective, Captain?” Chieming Noah asks.

“To protect all of our tomorrows, Lieutenant,” Jolie replies.

Thrust controls are set to maximum, and the Centurion Team’s mobile suits swing forward on catapult launches…soaring into the light of a new day.

FINIS

This concludes the narrative of MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM: THE SECOND CENTURY, PART 2: THE SECOND CENTURY.

The author would like to thank all readers who have supported this story.

The adventures of Jolie Minh and Athena Ibaz conclude in MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM: THE SECOND CENTURY PART 3: THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON, COMING SOON!!

[Ren Wo Xing]

Although you obviously completed this a long time ago, I'll still offer you my congratulations. The act of being able to complete a story/fanfic is, in and of itself, an act worthy of respect.