Chapter 16: Resolutions
December 15, UC 0083 Col. Charles Ambrose watched impassively as his men dragged away the corpses from the runaway shuttle. A gruesome sight, and one that might have been avoided. Their six-hour chase to catch a group of rebels that had just bombed a military facility at Riah had ended in a bloody boarding action. An action that had cost the lives of all the rebels along with three members of his crew. A toll that might have been higher had those rebels succeeded in detonating the scuttling charges in the shuttle... "Sir, I think we've found something," one of the military policemen reported as he completed his search of one of the bodies. In addition to a small firearm, the MP produced several charts, writing clearly scribbled on them. "So, what were they planning?" the Colonel inquired quietly as another body, this one of a nineteen year old private under his command, was dragged out of the shuttle. The sign of another letter to write. "The information is not very clear, Sir," the MP reported, "But I think the forensic or Intel guys might be able to decipher what's on it."
"Then send it to them and find out what they're up to," Ambrose ordered, "Or we may have more kids to bury at Santa Fe..."
Santa Fe Military Base, Sylvie Greisser felt a throbbing pain in her head as her eyes fluttered open. She had slept for about six hours, but those six hours had been marred by nightmares. Nightmares about all the people she had killed. She sighed. Nightmares were the only things she could dream of now, as her wretched mind and soul steadily tore itself apart on its own... "Max... Dad... Sis... why can't I just dream of any of you for once?" she thought on. "Have I really lost that much? That I can't even dream of the ones I loved anymore? Even Max's smile..." "Alright, Sylvie, you can't help yourself by being a depressed freak again..." another voice in her head ordered, "Time to get back to work, Natalie's going to be waiting..." It was the voice in her that she almost always wanted to ignore, but always eventually followed. It was the voice of her conscience.
And so she quickly shot herself up to a sitting position, before letting out a yawn. She felt itchy, and felt herself wishing for a shower. She quickly shrugged the thought of that luxury from her head as she stood and headed for the door. A new day now beckoned. Morning... Jake Stark thought as light slowly entered in the windows. Or at least, what was the illusion of morning. Having lived in colonies all his life, he knew that almost everything there was artificial. The grass... the rain... They were all man made. And he knew that a lot of people didn't like that fact. His grandfather was one of those people. He had been among the first colonists, and had lived on Earth for all of his life before being forcibly evicted by the Federation. It was a story he had told his grandchildren over and over again. Set in a place that Jake knew that he would probably never set foot on in his lifetime, but a place his grandfather so very much wanted to return to. And that, Jake thought, was probably why he was here now. When Zeon had began its war of independence, he had been among the most eager to join the war. He wasn't really there for spacenoid independence like most of his comrades. He was just fighting to give back the home that his grandfather had lost and so loved. And fight eagerly, he did... He could still remember it all. From his first battle at Side 1, to the Ruum, and then those impromptu sorties Lt. Gen. Dozul Zabi used to order. He was pretty brave back then, he reflected. In fact, he was almost downright reckless. But his efforts hadn't been wasted. Had his old Zaku II survived the One Year War, people would have seen the silhouettes of four Salamis class cruisers painted under his cockpit, his kills so far during the war. That earned him the respect... and friendship, of his old unit. Men who he had considered as brothers. Men he thought he could never desert... Then, Zeon began to lose. And he began to lose heart. Slowly, but surely. And then, on December 23, UC 0079, something happened that he never thought would. His grandfather died, and everything he had fought for was wasted. But he couldn't abandon his companions. Especially the Captain, who had trusted him the most. And so he fought. Fought even as the overwhelming Federal Fleet attacked Solomon. But he didn't give up. And despite the carnage, they all did make it out alive. Only to find themselves assigned to the fire once again: at Zeon's final line of defence 'A Baoa Qu'. And there, his world fell apart. His unit found itself facing an entire Federal battle squadron almost alone that day, and all of their pleas for help were ignored. He tried to fight back, he had even managed to score a direct hit on the bridge of the Federal Flagship. But it didn't stop the Flagship at all. It didn't stop even as it took hit after hit after hit from nearly every Zeon ship in the field. And even as the ship was enveloped in smoke, he could still remember it proudly displaying it name: Warspite. And lead by her, the battle squadron broke right through their line. And then, everybody began to die. Men he had known for over a year disappeared in less than a second. Often between a blink of an eye. And then... he ran. Ran even as the last of his companions, the Captain among them, stoically hung on to their positions. Positions that would become their graves... And then, he became nothing more than a coward. All he did was to run. To run away from failing his friends and companions. And when they dragged him off to fight for Delaz, everybody was expecting him to be somebody he no longer was...
But no more... Jake thought as he looked at his companions, all of them still sleeping soundly. Today, he thought as he looked at the sun. Today was the day he would stand up and fight. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?" Estella Madrigal observed quietly as she saw Arnold Jefferson grumbling in his seat. He'd been acting like that since they left, and it was almost a relief that the journey was almost over. Jefferson grimaced a bit at her remark, before sighing loudly, "No..." he replied, "I'm just a little pissed off..." "There is no difference between being mad and being pissed off, Arnie..." Estella replied matter of factly. "There is..." Jefferson countered with a sly smile, "There is a difference is severity. Pissed off is less severe than being mad. For a reporter, you have a pretty short vocabulary." "It doesn't really matter..." Estella replied with a sigh as she stretched herself in her seat, "All that really matter is that you're mad at me... So... I'm sorry..." "Estella?" Jefferson asked, surprised. Estella was just about as stubborn as Ming, not to mention even more persistent, so hearing her apologize at all was nothing short of surprising. "You know..." Estella continued on, "If we weren't so damn adventurous, we'd probably... Well... you know..." "Lovers?" Jefferson asked with a sigh as he looked up the shuttle's ceiling. "Probably more than that..." Estella replied as she sighed and looked up to the ceiling as well. "You're not just trying to seduce me to get more info from Ming, are you?" Jefferson asked a bit doubtfully. "Arnie..." Estella warned testily, quite mad at Jefferson's response to her... feelings. "Just kidding..." Jefferson replied with a mischievous grin as he saw Estella's fuming face. One that he found to enjoy seeing, "But that's us. We always take our work too seriously. Too seriously for either of us to ever settle down..." "Yeah but..." Estella started as she looked at Jefferson. Wondering what would either of them do when they were both old and frail, and could no longer continue the professions that had taken over much of their lives. Would they find that everything they did was all for nothing? Would she long to be with somebody, that far off in the future? "But?" Jefferson asked.
"It's nothing..." Estella replied quietly as she looked out of the shuttle's window. From there, she could now see colonies of Side 2 rapidly coming to view. It was time to get to work, and the thought could probably wait. After all, it was still many years in the future... "Welcome to Bunch 7, Sir..." General Alexander Dolvich almost grumbled as General Nicolo Lander appeared in the video link. Though the Warspite and her escorts were a welcome addition, he had already worked under the scheming Nicolo during the war. And his ambition had cost more lives than Dolvich could count. "Spare me the pleasantries, Dolvich," Nicolo shot arrogantly back, "I'm here to reprimand a certain meddling Major around here. One that's probably the cause of this little predicament. And one that I'm very sure you know very well. "With all due respect, Sir," Dolvich replied as he tried to keep his anger under control, "The Major in question has done a very good job under the circumstances. And I am sure high command will see it that way."
"Fine General, dig your own grave..." Nicolo continued on arrogantly, "We'll see who has General Corini's ear." "Nicolo trained dunderheads, as usual..." Major Natalie Dolvich thought to herself as three GMs from the Lunar Fleet took its positions around the town. As was the standard among Nicolo's men, it was done with maximum arrogance and minimum common sense. All three GMs had positioned themselves right out in the open, without any cover whatsoever. Perfect targets for any sensible Delaz rebels still out there... "One of the GMs seems to be a new model, mam," one of her staff officers observed as he pointed to a purple-black GM right in the middle of the town square. "Probably just a slightly modified GM Custom," Natalie replied as she also eyed the mobile suit. Or, she reflected, it could have been the new GM Quell she had been hearing about. The problem was she had no real idea how to tell, as the Custom and the Quell were almost visually identical, and she never really got into the details on the Quell's design. How Nicolo managed to get at least one high-performance suit on his fleet was beyond her however, especially since its markings seemed to indicate it was meant for Titan's use. "Mam, about their positions..." the staff officer started.
"I know. They're out there begging to be shot. Those stupid morons..." Natalie replied bluntly, "I'll get them moved. Once I get permission from our "commanding officer" that is..." And if he doesn't listen, she thought on, then circumvention of orders might soon become a daily part of her routine... "Alright sir, do we go with the plan now?" Jake asked as everybody finished chomping down a quick breakfast. "Yes, we go today," Ming replied coolly as he eyed Jake. He had been surprised to see him up before any of them. And he seemed different. His eyes now seemed firmer and unhesitating. He looked like a real soldier. "Then I guess we'd better get this show on the road," Horton agreed. The chances were still slim, he knew, but it was probably better than their chances of not being caught. "I... I'm with you..." Yun also added, albeit a bit nervously. "Sir, I'm going to tell you to give me up," Picton interrupted, "But I know you won't listen. If we're going, then let's go. Death of freedom awaits us." "Good..." Ming replied with a nod. At least his men were ready. However...
"Oh, and sir..." Jake suddenly interjected as he remembered the same thing as Ming, "What about the doc?"
"He's fine now. Just make sure he gets ample water," Sandra reported as she finished examining her patient. Her third now this morning. She looked around the field hospital, still crammed with wounded men, and decided that this was her proper place. What Ming would do now... was something out of her hands. Ming frowned as he saw the envelope. It was addressed to him, and probably left there on the table by Sandra. He sighed as he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. He began reading it immediately.
Ming sighed as he finished reading her words. She would never approve of what he would do, he knew, but he had to do it. It was just him now. he was a soldier. He couldn't abandon his men... "What did she say, Sir?" Jake inquired as he saw Ming pocket the letter.
"She didn't compromise the mission," Ming reassured, "We're going to execute the escape plan." Sylvie could feel her stomach tighten into a tight ball as she saw Shang's corpse, a bullet hole neatly implanted in the back of his head. How his body and that of another had gone unnoticed was beyond her, but now the forensic team was on the job to... "Mam, I think we've found something," one of the MPs reported, "A couple of kids have come forward saying that they've seen those rebels that got Shang. It was those kids he saved in the battle..." "What did they say?" Sylvie inquired on as she tried to shake away the image of those kids. They had been traumatized by the battle, and seeing their savior die before their eyes had probably just made their situation worse. "Well, we ran a couple of photos on them, but we've only managed to identify one of them..." the MP continued on as he handed her a datapad, "They've identified one Captain Ming Chow. An ace pilot that became MIA after the war. Intel assumes that he joined the Delaz rebels after the war." "Anything else?" Sylvie inquired as she began to scan the file. Fairly good-looking guy, she thought, and strangely enough, he had the same birthday as her, and was exactly two years older than her. She shook that coincidence from her head and continued on reading the rest of the report. "That's about it," the MP reported solemnly, "Republic of Zeon or not, those Side 3 people are still quite touchy about releasing records of soldier who might possibly joined the rebels. They still must hate us for winning the war..." We actually won? Sylvie thought almost cynically but nodded her head nonetheless. The Zeon Captain's record was proving to be impressive, and he was probably more than a match for her in a mobile suit. But what she read next made her feel uncomfortable. His last assignment was at Side 2... I think I've seen him before... Sylvie suddenly realized as she scrolled back to his photograph. I know I've seen him before somewhere, but... Then she saw something that made her eyes go wide. It was the Ming's name written in Chinese. She was sure she had seen one of those characters in his name before somewhere... On the right shoulder of a certain Mobile suit that she could never forget... "Do you know what sort of mobile suit did he pilot during the war?" Sylvie suddenly inquired as a flash of thought entered her mind. "Hmm..." the MP started, "I'm not sure, because the file's a bit sketchy on that, but I think he was piloting an orange colored High-Mobility type that was causing merry hell for the 17th Fleet. I used to be an intel officer for the Side 2 theater of operations during the war..." Oh God... it IS him... Sylvie realized. It's him... He's the one who got Max... He's... He's the one who was with that lady doctor... Sylvie realized. That innocent looking couple she had let go. OH ****! It WAS him! It was the guy who killed Max. The one who had sent her to her own merry little hell. And she had been so damn stupid to let him go and... ****! Max... damn it... I've failed you again. Just like how I couldn't say it to you when I should have... When... I said I hated you when I loved you... When I kept breaking your heart even though you tried everything to mend mine... and... and... "Damn it!" Sylvie finally said outloud. She was going to catch him, she swore to herself. For Max... For Shang... For me... "Mam?" the MP asked nervously as she saw the sudden fire in Sylvie's eyes. "Get your men together," Sylvie ordered, "We're going to hunt this guy down..."
Notice: This story and all related material is copyrighted by Thomas E. "Zinegata" Ting, no part of this story may be taken by any other person. If you wish to use any material, please contact me first. Gundam and all related trademarks are owned by their respective companies. |
