The rewards for shattering the Beta Hive had been obscenely generous. A cascade of system points had flooded my ledger, an amount so vast I could have retired from this endless war, at least for a few months. Five months, to be precise, before the sheer scale of base maintenance, personnel salaries, and ammunition consumption would chew through the stockpile.
"Which means," I announced with a theatrical flourish, throwing my hands up to the cavernous, albeit currently cramped, main hangar, "it's a spending spree!"
The air crackled with the energy of my decision. The first, and most important, recipient of my largesse was my trusty mobile suit, the Zudah. What had been a capable but utilitarian machine was about to undergo a transformation, blending Zeon's finest engineering with a touch of personal menace.
I poured points into the frame, reinforcing joints, optimizing the thrusters, and installing advanced fire control systems. The weapon loadout was a symphony of close-quarters lethality: dual 60mm Vulcans bristled from the head unit, ready to shred unarmored infantry and TSF And betas alike, and a pair of wickedly sharp Beam Sabers were mounted for the brutal, decisive close combat that was becoming a hallmark of my engagements.
Then came the aesthetics.
My Zudah was doused in a deep, predatory black—the color of space and fear. It was a stark contrast to the standard Zeon green, and markings of various Zeon remnant groups, a nod to the scattered, undying spirit of the Principality. But dominating the chest, a massive, proud Principality of Zeon logo was stenciled in stark white, a defiant declaration of allegiance. And a commander antenna on top of the head.
The final, game-changing addition was a set of new propellant tanks, massive cylindrical units bolted to the rear skirt armor and backpack, giving it an aggressive, hunched profile. The final machine was a fusion of designs, blending the sleek lines of the original Zudah with the bulk and power of the Zudah F, an unmistakable war machine.
"This," I breathed, circling the newly minted machine, the hangar lights glinting off its black armor, "is Zeon engineering!"
I reached out and laid a hand on its cold, smooth armor. "From now on, you are the Zudah A Verline Custom."
Jean, my first summon, approached me, her face a mask of professional concern. "Commander, while your new machine is magnificent, I must impress upon you the need for personnel."
"Mhm, yeah, you're right. We need people," I conceded, already pulling up the system's shop.
In a swift, decisive move, I began spending. I summoned engineers to maintain the base and the increasingly complex mobile suits, scientists to study the local ecosystem and the Beta's biology, and a fresh wave of highly-trained soldiers to pilot the new hardware and secure the perimeter. I even purchased new mobile suits to fill out our ranks.
A stray thought, a childish flash of ambition, struck me. Aces.
"Wait a minute, can I get aces?" I muttered, quickly filtering the personnel list.
The results hit me with the force of a high-explosive shell:
[Zeon Ace
Breniff Oguz : 1,000,000
Nordit Bauer : 1,000,000
Johnny Ridden: 1,000,000
Eric Mansfield : 1,000,000
Shin Matsunaga : 1,000,000
Gabby Hazard : 1,000,000
Robert Gilliam : 1,000,000
Grennis Escort : 1,000,000
Char Aznable : 1,000,000]
"Dang. One million for each ace," I whistled, staring at the price tags for the legends of the One Year War. "I'll do this later. For now, I need a mobile suit roster that can defeat the Beta's human wave tactics and still be able to engage the Federation's TSFs."
A clear strategy formulated in my mind. The Beta were all about quantity; I would counter with a mix of sustained firepower and shock assault units.
"Alright, first up: the Zaku Cannon and Half Cannon for long-range and indirect fire support. Next, a squadron of Doms—their hover capability is perfect for rapid redeployment. Then, Gouf Customs, but specifically the ones equipped with the Miniguns for tearing apart Beta swarms. And finally, of course, a healthy contingent of new Zudahs. You can't go wrong with Zudahs."
I purchased them all, filling the hangar with dozens of powerful machines. But something was missing.
"Oh, wait. I may need a sub-flight system. The Dodai YS!" I quickly acquired a stock of the sub-flight aircraft, essential for rapidly transporting mobile suits over long distances and providing air support.
A blinding, ethereal light erupted from the center of the hangar, the signature of the system's matter-creation process. Jean and I shielded our eyes as the photons resolved into reality. A full deployment of pilots and crews, all clad in crisp Zeon uniforms, now stood at rigid attention, saluting. Their newly summoned mobile suits shimmered into existence beside them.
"Heh, this bunker is too small," I mused, surveying the sudden population density.
I spent more points, this time for resources: construction workers, heavy-duty tools, and materials. I pointed to the far wall. "Make this bunker bigger! I want a full underground base of operations."
The construction crew, newly arrived and utterly loyal, simply nodded and set to work with unnerving speed.
"I want this base running! All to your posts!" I roared.
The hangar immediately dissolved into a flurry of organized activity—crews prepping the mobile suits, pilots running diagnostics, and construction crews beginning to tear down walls.
"Jean, with me," I commanded.
She nodded and fell into step behind me as we retreated to what would soon be my new command center.
The air of decisive action brought a new thought to mind.
"I guess with this new reality, we would need a name, wouldn't we?" I asked her.
"Of course, Commander. A unified identity for a unified force," she replied.
I grinned, the name already forming in my mind, a nod to the speed and crushing power I intended to unleash. "Mhm… Maybe Blitzkrieg Zeon?"
Jean's usually reserved expression softened into a genuine, happy smile.
"That… is a very good name, Commander. It speaks of decisive victory."
"Good. You know what, it could also be just the Blitzkrieg Corps. I'll keep both," I decided, preferring the dual-purpose flexibility. Jean nodded, accepting the decree.
I threw my head back and laughed, a deep, satisfied sound. "Heheh! This world will bow to me! To Zeon! Then, these xenos will be exterminated!"
I reached out my hand. "Give me paper and a pen. I will draw up a plan."
Jean hurried off to find the requested items. Left alone, I stared at the blank wall, already seeing the blueprint of my impending invasion. The name for the operation came to me instantly, a historical echo of an audacious, world-changing operation.
"Operation British Two," I whispered, a dark, brilliant grin splitting my face. "A perfect name for the operation."