The fortress at Odessa was alive with noise long before dawn. Searchlights cut through the fog, mobile suit hangars clanged with the sounds of mechanics tightening bolts, and officers barked orders as soldiers scrambled to their stations. It was not ordinary preparation; it was the heavy, suffocating atmosphere that comes only when an army knows a storm is coming.
Inside the trenches that cut across the rocky plains, Zeon infantry crouched low, rifles clutched tightly. Their breath showed in the cold morning air, and some tried to joke with their comrades, but most kept silent. They all knew what waited beyond the horizon.
Every man and woman in Odessa had heard the whispers. The Federation was gathering its strength, not in small raids or probing attacks, but in a single decisive strike. And Zeon, for all its bravado, was about to stand against a wall of steel.
Tanya von Zehrtfeld marched along the trench line with her hands behind her back. Her expression was sharp, her eyes flicking over soldiers and weapons with practiced precision. To her men she was a wall of confidence, but inside her chest burned with fury. She knew what the Zabi family had done. They had chosen Odessa as bait.
A bitter curse for Being X crossed her mind again. Another world, another war, another situation where her life was nothing but expendable currency for someone else's ambitions. She clenched her jaw, but outwardly gave no sign. Her soldiers needed her calm.
"Lieutenant, the latest report from recon," a young officer said, saluting as he ran up to her side. He handed her a datapad.
Tanya read quickly, her eyes narrowing. Ten Big Tray–class battleships. Five Daidalus–class assault ships. Hundreds of GM units, including modified custom types. And among them, the infamous White Base.
She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the Gundam that haunted Zeon's campaigns. And now, alongside it, another nightmare: the Strike Gundam, and possibly even newer models.
"So, the Federation has decided to crush us all in one blow," she muttered. Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. "How convenient for them."
Around her, the soldiers shifted nervously, pretending not to listen, but the tension in their bodies gave them away. Every whispered rumor made the coming battle feel even heavier.
Inside the command center, M'quve stood before a vast operations table. His slender fingers traced lines on the map, elegant as ever despite the dire situation. The room smelled of tobacco and cold metal, filled with aides and officers awaiting orders.
"We have limited assets at our disposal," M'quve began, his voice calm. "Twenty-one Zaku II units, twelve Doms, nine Goufs, and a single newly developed Zudah. Alongside them, we have a hundred tanks, scores of fighter planes, three Gaw carriers, and the turrets that we installed when Odessa was occupied."
His words carried no panic. Only calculation.
"But," he continued, turning his gaze to the senior officers, "our reinforcements may not arrive in time. The Federation's offensive is swift. And Gihren Zabi…" He paused, lips tightening. "Gihren has chosen to move on Jaburo. Odessa, therefore, will be left to weather this storm."
The officers erupted in whispers, some shocked, others pale. To be used as bait was a cruel reality, even for Zeon veterans.
Tanya entered the command room, standing tall among them. "So that's the truth," she said flatly. Her golden hair caught the lamplight as her eyes narrowed on M'quve. "We are pawns."
"Pawns, yes," M'quve replied smoothly. "But pawns that must hold the board until the king can strike."
"Easy for you to say," Tanya snapped. She clenched her fists at her sides. "It's our blood buying that strike."
For a moment the two locked eyes, steel against steel. Then M'quve simply smiled faintly and returned his gaze to the map. "The survival of Zeon depends on sacrifices. Surely you, of all people, understand this."
Tanya bit back her retort. She did understand. That was what made it all the more maddening.
Outside the fortress, mechanics worked furiously, preparing every machine they could scrape together. The smell of oil and ozone filled the hangars.
In one corner, the Dom squadron of the Black Tri-Stars loomed like silent titans. Gaia, Ortega, and Mash spoke little, conserving their energy, but their presence alone raised the morale of nearby soldiers. Everyone knew what the Tri-Stars could do with their Jet Stream Attack.
Nearby, Norris Packard inspected his custom Gouf, the machine's frame gleaming under the hangar lights. His sharp eyes traced every seam of the armor, as though memorizing it before the battle.
Ramba Ral, too, prepared his own custom Gouf. He ran his hands over the armor like a craftsman admiring his tool. His calm demeanor belied the storm he was ready to walk into.
In another hangar bay, Tanya's own GED squad assembled. Zhou Wei adjusted his Dom's systems, his calm voice reassuring Mila, who was double-checking the calibration of her own machine. Ritcher, silent as always, focused on his Zaku II, knowing its limits but determined to push them.
And in the center of the bay stood Tanya's Zudah. Sleek, dangerous, and untested in such a scale of battle. She looked at it with something between pride and grim resignation. This would be her weapon, her coffin, or both.
"Commander," Zhou Wei called over the comm, his voice steady. "All systems ready. The squad is prepared to sortie on your command."
Tanya stepped closer to her machine, placing a hand on the cold armor. "Good. Because once this storm hits, we won't have time for second chances."
She turned to look at her squad, her eyes sharp. "Listen carefully. The Federation is bringing everything they have. Ten Big Trays. Five Daidalus. A wall of GMs. And the White Base. That means Gundam, Strike Gundam, and possibly more. This is no ordinary battle. This is annihilation."
Mila swallowed hard but nodded. "We'll fight to the last, Commander."
"Don't die needlessly," Tanya said. Her voice cut through the air like a blade. "We are soldiers of Zeon, but we are also human. Survive if you can. Kill as many of them as possible, yes, but survival is also victory. Do not throw your lives away like fools."
Ritcher gave a rare grunt of agreement. Zhou Wei offered a slight smile. Mila nodded fiercely, though her eyes betrayed her fear.
In the command tower, M'quve raised his hand, signaling the network of officers. "All defenses to maximum alert. Infantry to trenches. Armor to fallback lines. Fighters to ready status. Odessa must hold."
The order spread like wildfire. Sirens blared. Zeon soldiers scrambled to positions. Turrets swiveled into place, their barrels aimed toward the distant horizon.
In the trenches, soldiers checked their rifles one last time. Some prayed quietly under their breath. Others stared blankly at the sky.
Above, the first glimmers of sunlight broke over the hills, painting the battlefield in red and gold. And on that horizon, faint specks began to appear.
"Federation ships sighted!" came the cry from a lookout tower.
The soldiers tensed. Hearts pounded.
Tanya stood at the edge of the trench line, her Zudah towering behind her. She narrowed her eyes at the growing shapes in the distance. "So it begins."
M'quve's voice echoed over the comms. "Odessa defense line, prepare to engage. Zeon's future rests on your shoulders."
In the hangar, the Black Tri-Stars climbed into their Doms, their cockpits sealing shut with a hiss. Norris powered up his Gouf, the machine roaring to life. Ramba Ral followed suit, his calm eyes shining with determination.
Tanya climbed into her Zudah's cockpit, strapping in with quick, practiced motions. Around her, Zhou Wei's Dom and Mila's machine powered up, engines growling. Ritcher's Zaku II hummed, less impressive but no less loyal.
The radio crackled with voices. Reports of the enemy fleet multiplied. Numbers too large to count poured through the speakers.
Inside her cockpit, Tanya let out a slow breath. "Being X," she muttered under her breath. "If you're watching, you'd better enjoy this. Because I'll drag your curse into hell with me if I have to."
The Zudah's systems lit up, green across the board. The machine hummed with raw power, ready to leap into battle.
The Black Tri-Stars' voices cut over the comm. "Dom squad ready."
Norris's calm baritone followed. "Custom Gouf, standing by."
Ramba Ral's voice was calm, steady, like a rock in the storm. "Gouf ready."
Zhou Wei's tone was sharp. "Dom ready."
Mila added quickly, "Dom, ready."
Ritcher's deep voice came last. "Zaku II, ready."
Tanya gripped the controls of her Zudah. "Zehrtfeld squad, ready."
The air trembled as the Federation fleet drew closer, their massive ships blotting out the rising sun. The ground shook as Zeon mobile suits took their first steps into position.
And at the heart of it all, Tanya von Zehrtfeld, her GED squad, the Black Tri-Stars, Norris Packard, and Ramba Ral stood ready, their machines gleaming in the light of dawn.
Odessa was about to drown in fire and steel.
And every soldier knew, whether they admitted it or not, that today might be their last.