After what felt like an eternity of relentless war, the Federation forces were finally pushing back the Zeon invaders. The tide had turned; we were attacking their forward bases, driving them toward defeat. Yet, victory was a brittle thing, easily shattered by a single misstep.
That morning, in the cold, utilitarian heart of my Chicago base, I received the orders from Commander Earl: move immediately to Clinton, Iowa. The mission: assault a known Zeon supply and staging area. Our unit was a standard mixed Federation force: myself in my personal Gundam Ground Type, five standard GM units, two Guncannons, and a platoon of ten 61-Type tanks. Our operator, Karla, monitored the operation from the specialized Bloodhound support vehicle.
Before heading out, a private ritual. I checked my phone, a small, anachronistic link to the normal world, hoping for a call or message from Lydia. Nothing. I sent a message, and when she quickly replied, I immediately called her.
"Lydia, are you busy right now?" I asked, trying to keep the tension out of my voice.
"I'm free, Aaron," she replied, her voice taut, businesslike. "Just getting prepared for the mission to Tir Na Nog, where the Noisy-fairy base is supposedly located. It's a solid report from an agent.".
"Wait, the Witch's location? Finally found it?" I couldn't hide my surprise.
"Yeah. Black Dog Squad and Witch-hunt are going today. I need to get ready.".
The mention of the Black Dog Squad sent a familiar chill down my spine.
"Just be careful, Lydia. The Noisy-fairy are dangerous. I need you to come back safe.".
"You too, Aaron. Goodbye then," she said, and the line went dead. I hung up, the promise of a safe return hanging heavy in the air.
I headed to the hangar. My Gundam Ground Type was being prepped. I ordered the mechanics to fill the weapon pack with the heavy 180mm cannon. The other mobile suits were armed for close-to-mid-range: GMs with Bazookas and Bullpup machine guns, and the Guncannons with their Beam Rifles. We would walk to the location, the mobile suits setting the pace for the slower 61-Type tanks.
As we moved out, the comms crackled. "Captain Aaron, did you hear the California base finally found the Witch location?" Karla's voice asked, cutting through the static.
"I know, Lieutenant," I replied. "I just spoke with one of the Black Dog members.".
"You have contact with Black Dog Squad?!" It was Agita, one of my Guncannon pilots. Her voice was incredulous. "They're a bunch of male soldiers, mostly dishonorable discharges, a lot of bad records! How can you talk to them?".
"There's one woman in Black Dog," I explained. "She was a friend of XiangLei. Before XiangLei was killed, she told me to look out for her—to be close with her.".
"Hee... a homicidal maniac like the rest of the Black Dog Squad, right, Captain?" Jehova, one of the GM pilots, cut in with an amused tone.
"Not entirely," I countered. "When she saw XiangLei's corpse, I saw her cry. I saw her devastated. I believe she can still be changed. She can still be a normal person.".
"Actually, Captain, what I heard is—" Agita started, but I cut her off. The air had changed.
"Hold your position," I ordered the entire platoon. "Something isn't right.".
We were almost upon the Zeon base. "What is it, Captain Aaron?" asked Captain Sato, the leader of the tank platoon.
"Look at it, Captain Sato," I said, my voice low. "It's too quiet. No perimeter guards, no mobile suit patrols. It's like no one is home.".
The silence was a siren song, luring us into a sense of false security. That quiet was unsettling. To be safe, I ordered two GM units and two 61-Type tanks to scout the perimeter. Agita and the other Guncannon pilot were to provide overwatch and optical surveillance. The report came back quickly: the buildings were empty, no personnel. Only three Zeon mobile suits were left in different sections of the hangar. An empty base. A trap. The second the scouting team turned to leave, the radio erupted. "Ambush! They hit the tanks and GMs!".
We rushed to the scene. The Zeon forces, a mixed bag of Zaku IIs and Doms, revealed themselves from concealed positions. My stomach clenched. I feared we were facing elite units like 'Marchosiast' or 'Midnight Fenrir'. But what emerged next was something new: a deep blue-black and white mobile suit with a shape unfamiliar to me. It was an MS-11 Act Zaku, a heavily upgraded Zaku variant. It was sleeker, yet more menacing, armed with weapons I'd never seen on a Zaku I or II.
"GM units, focus on the ambush forces! Captain Sato, form up the tanks! Guncannons, take long-range positions and provide fire support!" I commanded, launching my own Gundam directly into the fray.
I targeted the Act Zaku. As I fired my beam rifle, it reacted with impossible speed, throwing two oversized Heat Hawks directly at me. I dodged, but the deadly axes hit one of the GMs behind me. The Act Zaku, now seemingly disarmed, began to retreat. I pursued it; it was too dangerous to let a unit with that kind of mobility and pilot skill escape.
The battle turned into absolute chaos. The tanks, backed by the GMs, managed to take down a few Zeon suits, but they were taking losses. The Guncannons finally entered the main battle zone. I chased the Act Zaku, only to be hit with a new shock: it drew a beam rifle from its back. Zeon had developed beam weapons! The war just got a whole lot harder.
"Captain, we're about to lose! What do we do now?!" Jehova cried out over the comms.
"Keep pushing! No matter the cost, we will make it back home alive!" I roared, knowing full well my words were hollow.
The tank unit's situation worsened. The standard Zaku IIs launched S-mines—explosives ejected from their bodies that scattered shrapnel at close range. It was a perfect anti-tank tactic. Tragically, Captain Sato and his entire tank platoon were quickly overwhelmed and killed. We were not only outnumbered, but now we were catastrophically outgunned.
The Guncannons finally started scoring critical hits, taking down Doms and Zaku IIs. But it wasn't enough. Zeon reinforcements arrived, and the fighting intensified. Jehova and his GM were cut down by a barrage of machine gun and bazooka fire. The death of one of the Guncannon pilots—Agita's lover—snapped her sanity. She charged, a screaming, reckless blur, firing her cannon and beam rifle with furious abandon. I ordered her to pull back, but she was beyond reason. Her rage was short-lived; the Act Zaku reappeared, slicing her Guncannon in half with a beam saber. The Act Zaku, with its deadly beam weapons and expert pilot, was the worthy, terrifying opponent.
It was just me and two remaining GM units, completely pinned down. Then, a voice of hope: Karla's. "Captain, a reinforcement has arrived!".
A squadron of regular Federation mobile suits—Light GMs, GM Cannons, and standard GMs—stormed the battle. Their combined volley of machine gun fire and beam rifle blasts tore into the Zeon lines. We were safe, for now. The comms revealed the source: Federation forces from the Augusta base had received Karla's distress call. I realized with a sickening clarity that without Karla's quick thinking, I wouldn't have survived to see Lydia again.
Suddenly, the Act Zaku and two Zaku IIs broke away, heading directly for us. A three-on-three duel. I told the GMs to handle the Zaku IIs while I engaged the Act Zaku. It pulled a beam saber, challenging me. I put my beam rifle away, drawing my own saber. Our beam sabers clashed in a blinding dance. This pilot was stronger, faster than any standard Zaku pilot. I used my shield to fend off a blow, then fired my Vulcan cannons to create an opening. I charged and slashed at the Act Zaku's cockpit, intending to disable it without killing the pilot. When the armor ruptured, the truth was horrifying: the pilot was a child, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old.
This was war. Child soldiers, born cruel or simply forced into a killing machine. I had to disarm him. I charged again, but the Act Zaku switched tactics, shooting at me with its beam rifle. I blocked it, firing my own rifle, deliberately aiming for the shoulder. I hit the target, but a Dom unit intervened, allowing the Act Zaku to flee. I chased, desperate to save the child pilot from being killed by the incoming Federation forces.
I was too late. When I arrived at the Act Zaku's location, it was dead, sliced by an invisible knife. A new mobile suit stood over the wreckage: black, with a visor-like head and an odd backpack. As another wave of Zeon suits closed in, a high-energy beam obliterated them in a single shot. The shot came from a white mobile suit carrying a massive weapon and crowned head. Karla identified the new, high-spec units: the RX-80WR White Rider and the RX-80BR Black Rider. Test units, apparently, from the Augusta base.
The leader of the Augusta forces approached my Gundam. "This battle was a perfect field test for the pilots," he said, telling me to leave the rest to them.
"Captain, are you all right?" Karla and a surviving GM pilot met me as I retreated.
"I'm fine," I said, looking back at the two silent, powerful mobile suits. "But the White and Black Riders... they are something else.".
As we headed back to base, Karla gave me the final intelligence report: a HLV (Heavy-Lift Vehicle) had landed near HQ, filled with a new variant: the MS-06F-2 Zaku II F2. An upgraded, bulkier Zaku with black piping, a different backpack, and a machine gun equipped with a grenade launcher.
We left the base to the Augusta forces. My unit was decimated. Jehova, Agita, Captain Sato—all of them were gone. Only Karla and two fresh ensigns piloting GMs remained.
Back at base, I reported the situation to Commander Earl. The mission was a bust, a trap set by false intelligence. He took the report stoically, assuring me it wasn't my fault. Later, after checking the captured Zaku II F2s—which were slated for transport to the rebuilding Torrington base in Australia—I headed to my room. I had one thing left to do.
I called Lydia. The moment she answered, relief washed over me. She was alive. Her mission to Tir Na Nog had also been a disaster; the Noisy-fairy were incredibly strong, and her mobile suit took medium damage. The objective failed due to heavy losses from an ambush, mirroring my own hellish experience.
Before we hung up, she asked me to meet her for a date. I accepted instantly. It was a promise, a beacon of hope. I swore to myself that I would help her—I wouldn't let her become a heartless killer, a homicidal maniac like the worst of the Black Dog Squad. I had to help her be a normal person again, no matter what it cost.
To be continued.