Stage 1: Prelude to Battle

Carpentaria, Australia
September 9, 2013 0800 hours

Carpentaria Base was one of the largest military facilities in the South Pacific, and it showed. The base was abuzz with activity as dozens of workers went about maintaining the battle readiness of an entire ZAFT Brigade, the 312th Terrestrial. Meanwhile, the base was overflown by several BABIs on patrol. On the roof of the command building, Commander Dustin Bragg clenched his black coat tighter around himself. Ever since the war began, the normally mild north Australian winter seemed to be getting colder by the day.

And today was looking to be a very busy day indeed. The 65th Autonomous Squadron had arrived the previous afternoon, bringing its mecha compliment along with new operational orders from UNEF Command on Luna II. While he didn’t necessarily agree with their plan, Bragg had to admit that it was audacious. Turning to reenter the command center, Bragg encountered the approaching Alexi Petrovich. Saluting, the Commander spoke first.

“Ah, Captain Petrovich, I was just…”

Alexi cut him off, speaking extremely fast.

“Heya Dustin, I was just coming to see about integrating our forces for Coral. Wow, was that a ZAKU just now? We’ve got three days, so I wanted to get everyone up to speed. Gotta be fast in situations like these, especially with Luna II watching this one. Everything has to be smooth, like glass or ice or marble or or…”

Dustin returned the favor.

“You’ve made your point Captain. Now, I would suggest we get inside and see about that very matter.”

Alexi nodded meekly, and the two headed inside. Meanwhile, the base personnel continued moving equipment and replacement supplies aboard the Petrovich's Tenzan class landship, the Conquistador.

New Guinea Base, Lea, New Guinea
September 9, 2013 0800 hours

Several hundred miles away, the HRA’s New Guinea Base was filled with more subdued, if less visible, activity. A new shift of factory workers was arriving to continue the twenty four hour process of continually manufacturing RMS-154 Barzam Mobile Suits for the Alliance’s burgeoning force of volunteers. In the facility’s comparatively small port, the workers were treated to a majestic sight. A shining white Space Noa battleship, the morning sun only magnifying its brilliance, was slowly sliding into a slipway designed for ships barely half its size. In all, it was a beautiful sight.

The scene inside the base commandant’s office however, was far less pleasant. Lieutenant Colonel Han Xinyun stared into the display screen with an intensity that looked as though it could shatter the thin device. She keyed in a command to connect her with the Shirogane, and folded her arms over a meticulously pressed Titans uniform.

“Major Baker. Would you care to explain to me why your ship is almost three full hours behind schedule on arrival?”

On the other side of the screen sat the young Patrick Baker, wearing a graphic tee shirt and jeans. His feet were placed on the ledge in front of the commander’s chair.

“We’re in plenty enough time to complete our assignment. Besides, the ship isn’t scheduled to depart again for two days. It’s not like a few hours will change our situation now will they?”

Xinyun’s eyes narrowed precariously.

“Mr. Baker I expect you in my office the moment you finish docking procedures. Unless you want to spend the next two days in the brig, I expect you to comply.”

The display closed and Baker sighed, turning to the man standing behind him.

“Man, she is a complete bitch. I can’t see why these supplies were that urgent in the first place.”

The older man looked pensive as he responded.

“While I don’t disagree Patrick, we do need to continue making mecha as fast as possible to counter the UNEF. Besides, this will give the troops from the 81st some well deserved leave.”

Patrick only grunted as he stalked off the bridge. Meanwhile, Hizacks from the 44th Mobile Battalion began offloading the supplies. Entering the hangars on his way off the ship, Baker stopped to notice some of the assembled personnel of his own ship's 81st Batalion. Pausing for a moment, he realized that it would help his position with Xinyun if his troops helped offload the supplies. He shouted down into the bay before continuing on his way.

"Hey you slackers! What do you think you're doing milling about like that? Hurry up and get these supplies off my ship!"

Carpentaria, Australia
September 9, 2013 0800 hours

The Previous Day

There was a great deal of commotion going on at Carpentaria as the 65th Autonomous Squadron arrived. One of the more prominent among the suits was the Gundam Formula 91. Even though it was shorter than some of its fellow suits it was still formidable. The other pilots had learned this when an HRA Qubeley Mass Production Type tried to hit it with its funnels but found itself unable to land a single hit before finding itself under fire from the Variable Speed Beam Rifle(VSBR) that quickly tore through its arms that it threw up in an effort to defend itself, destroying the pilot and cockpit in one move. The suit had exploded shortly after and everyone watched as the Heat Fins extended from the shoulders of the F91, giving it a far more deadly appearance.

When the suit set down, the ZAFT mechanics set about getting it hooked up and started its resupply. After Walter was certain that the suit was in good hands he left the cockpit and lowered himself to the ground. He looked around. He had never been in Carpentaria before, and he never really got a good look at it from the Gundam SEED shows.

Walter removed his helmet and walked out of the hangar. He walked over to the Barracks where he would be staying.

Today

Walter Bifrost was not happy. Not at all. The reason for him being in such a foul mood? One of the engineers had somehow damaged one of his Heat Fins. That was not a good thing because he couldn't fly without them. They were the backbone of his suit and without them it would overheat. The Head Mechanic had walked up to him earlier and told him the situation and so he was forced to deal with it himself. He didn't even want to know why they were messing with them in the first place.

So here he was in the Hangar yelling instructions to the techies.

It wasn't until a few moments later that he decided to write down everything they needed to do in order on paper and then gave it to a Senior Mechanic and told him to follow it to the letter. He wasn't willing to take any chances. And that as soon as they were done he was going to take it for a test-drive to see if they were working properly.

With that he left the Hangar and went to have breakfast at the cafeteria. Sitting down at a table he picked up a menu and looked over what they had before ordering a cup of coffee and a couple Belgian Waffles.

Carpentaria, Australia
September 9, 2013

Stan and Blue had just gotten back from a mission in Sydney where diplomatic hostages were being held for ransom by a petty gang of aussie punks armed with Destroids in the Sydney Opera House. Stan & Blue took care of them all easily, but not without destoying half of the building in the process. He was reprimanded for his reckless actions and as punishment, spent the last two days on clean up. He was exausted from all that work, being happy to come back to base with a bunk bed to look forward to. "Man, I'm beat. How about you Blue?" Blue didn't respond."That's what I thought." After he got out cockpit via tow cable, technicians immediately began maintenance on his Gundam. "Look at this, it's a mess. Dammit Anderson, you need to take better of your machine! If you don't, it'll end up as scrap!" "Hey, Blue's a tough guy, he can handle it. And Frank, you should watch the anger, it's not good for your health at your age." He said with a laugh as he walked out of the hangar and headed to the barracks; Frank stammered with frustration. Stan collapsed on his bed and thought to himself "I hope I never have to do that again, clean up duty's such a drag." And with that, he quickly fell asleep.

The next day, Stan woke up with a craving for a plate of waffles, scrambled eggs, hash browns, breakfast sausage, a side of bacon, and a glass of orange juice topped off with tons of maple syrup. So he went to the cafeteria to get his breakfast fix, walking towards the enchanting eroma from said establishment like a zombie. "Mmmmmmmm, food." Once he got his breakfast platter, he searched for a table to sit at when he saw a familiar face amongst the crowd of hungry patriots. It was Ensign Walter Bifrost, sitting alone eating a stack of gourmet belgian waffles; he ran over to Walter's table and quickly settled next to him. "Hey Walter, how've you been? I've heard a lot of things about you lately. Is it true you took down a Qubeley without a single scratch on you?"

Uryuu wrote:

"Hey Walter, how've you been? I've heard a lot of things about you lately. Is it true you took down a Qubeley without a single scratch on you?"

Carpentaria, Australia
September 9, 2013

Walter had been enjoying his breakfast in peace when a giant of a man had walked up and plopped himself down in the seat across from him and started asking about a past conquest.

Looking up while taking a sip of coffee he said, "I don't understand your fascination with the past. It wasn't that hard to dodge those funnels, and it's not like many suits can keep up with me. Not that they care that I survived without a scratch. It might make them pause for a moment, but immediately after they will attempt to be the first to damage you, to destroy you. And I have had my share of those run-ins.The only thing that matters is the here and now. The past can't save you, only you can and if you try and rest on your laurels you are asking to be knocked down." He took another sip of coffee, "Now, W.O. Anderson, I realize that you put a great deal of stock in those things, but in the end what good are they beyond a good read at night or story around the dinner table?"

With that said he turned back to his waffles and took a bite.

Shirogane's Hangar
September 9, 2013 0800 hours

Zane or Baskerville as he was more commonly referred was sitting in the cockpit of his Alteison listening to some music as he puffed his cigarette. He had been here for about three hours running diagnostics and making general repairs. He was lucky for it seemed that wherever this ship had come from his PT had also originated there so the crew had an understanding of the workings of Alt. But after several months of just him and Alt fighting to reach here he was both used to sleeping in his PT and doing all the repairs. Now after being on the ship for two weeks he had finally gotten used to sleeping in his quarters. But he still did daily diagnostics as if daily combat was the norm.

Seeing that the PT was still in perfect working order he opened the cooler he had brought with him pulled out a Sparks and just sat lounging in his cockpit drinking and watching the hustle and bustle of the maintenance crew.

"I don't understand your fascination with the past. It wasn't that hard to dodge those funnels, and it's not like many suits can keep up with me. Not that they care that I survived without a scratch. It might make them pause for a moment, but immediately after they will attempt to be the first to damage you, to destroy you. And I have had my share of those run-ins.The only thing that matters is the here and now. The past can't save you, only you can and if you try and rest on your laurels you are asking to be knocked down." He took another sip of coffee, "Now, W.O. Anderson, I realize that you put a great deal of stock in those things, but in the end what good are they beyond a good read at night or story around the dinner table?"

Stan shrugged hearing Walter's serious retort. "Jeez, I just asked you a question. You don't have to bite my head off about it." He proceeded to devour his morning meal in awkward silence. 10 minutes later, Stan scarfed down the whole platter while Walter was on his last waffle; he belched satisfactorily. "Man I'm stuffed, I couldn't eat another bite." he said with a big grin on his face. He looked over at Walter, wearing a calm and focused look. "So our next mission's going to start soon, what's going through your head right now?" he said, trying to stur up some friendly conversation.

"So our next mission's going to start soon, what's going through your head right now?"

Walter shrugged his shoulder, taking a last bite of his waffle and pushing the plate away. "The base is going to be heavily fortified, no doubt about that. So we are going to have to take extra precautions. That base of the HRA is nothing to scoff at, and while our suits are formidable, they have suits of their own like that Drilling suit, the Gurren Lagann. I had the privilege of fighting it once. Heh, they were nothing special. I took out the Gurren when they tried to flank me. The Lagann was pitiful. Couldn't even muster up the strength to stop me. I just left the guy there to wallow in his misery. I wonder if he grew his spine back after that? Hahaha, that was a pathetic battle. And now that I think about it that's how the original pilot of the Gurren, Kamina, died too. Like former like latter. My so-called partners were quite pitiful as well. That thing took them both down and yet it was like a walk in the park for me. Pathetic." He paused for a moment, thinking back to the battle, "They were quite the team, too bad they split up, he might have survived otherwise. Too bad for them. I wonder what that guy is doing now? Wouldn't be surprised if I saw him in the future. Probably with a grudge. So, I can guess that they have some custom suits there, perhaps a Gundam or maybe a Knightmare Frame from Code Geass. You never know who has what these days."

He leaned back in his chair and took another drink from his cup. The past few months had been a nightmare and he had no doubt that the next few would be just as bad. He could only hope that there would be a break in the fighting soon and that the HRA would realize the futility in its actions.

"The base is going to be heavily fortified, no doubt about that. So we are going to have to take extra precautions. That base of the HRA is nothing to scoff at, and while our suits are formidable, they have suits of their own like that Drilling suit, the Gurren Lagann. I had the privilege of fighting it once. Heh, they were nothing special. I took out the Gurren when they tried to flank me. The Lagann was pitiful. Couldn't even muster up the strength to stop me. I just left the guy there to wallow in his misery. I wonder if he grew his spine back after that? Hahaha, that was a pathetic battle. And now that I think about it that's how the original pilot of the Gurren, Kamina, died too. Like former like latter. My so-called partners were quite pitiful as well. That thing took them both down and yet it was like a walk in the park for me. Pathetic." He paused for a moment, thinking back to the battle, "They were quite the team, too bad they split up, he might have survived otherwise. Too bad for them. I wonder what that guy is doing now? Wouldn't be surprised if I saw him in the future. Probably with a grudge. So, I can guess that they have some custom suits there, perhaps a Gundam or maybe a Knightmare Frame from Code Geass. You never know who has what these days."

"I guess your right." Stan felt remorse for the unfortunate pilot of Lagann (being that he's never killed anyone in his life), even though he was an enemy. "I can't help but feel bad for that Gurren pilot, I don't know why though. I've never killed anyone before and I dread the day that might happen. I know that they're the enemy, but don't you feel bad about killing any of them?" he asked ponderously.

"I guess your right." Stan felt remorse for the unfortunate pilot of Lagann (being that he's never killed anyone in his life), even though he was an enemy. "I can't help but feel bad for that Gurren pilot, I don't know why though. I've never killed anyone before and I dread the day that might happen. I know that they're the enemy, but don't you feel bad about killing any of them?" he asked ponderously.

Walter snorted, "Remorse? What good would that do me? After all, they are killing innocents left and right. If I let them live, they will only keep killing. And then there are those who defect. They know which side is right and which is wrong and they still left. They deserve no mercy." He spat out the last words.

Those fiends had done all they could to whittle down their numbers, offering high positions in their new world order if they switched sides or protection for their families. But what they didn't say was who they were protecting them from. The fools.

Walter snorted, "Remorse? What good would that do me? After all, they are killing innocents left and right. If I let them live, they will only keep killing. And then there are those who defect. They know which side is right and which is wrong and they still left. They deserve no mercy." He spat out the last words.

Those fiends had done all they could to whittle down their numbers, offering high positions in their new world order if they switched sides or protection for their families. But what they didn't say was who they were protecting them from. The fools.

Stan went silent, knowing that Walter's words were true; he sat there with a gloomy face. "Well I'm going to hit the showers now, I guess I'll catch you later then." He got up and walked towards the door, putting his empty tray on top of the trash can on his way out.

Carpentaria, Australia
September 9, 2013 0900

The mood was tense in Commander Bragg’s office as he and Alexi Petrovich reviewed the mission assignments for Operation Coral. Making the situation worse was the face of James McNamara on the office’s video screen. Bragg sat at his chair, his arms crossed in thought, while Alexi leaned against the nearest wall looking anxious. McNamara was finishing his briefing.

“Gentlemen, I want to state in no uncertain terms that every operation taking place as part of our offensive is of the utmost importance to the UNEF's victory. For our plans to succeed, every attack must meet with success. The HRA has a large enough manpower advantage that every Mobile Suit they get their hands on means more body bags going home to America and Europe. They will respond to any attack on their production capability. This is a diversion on a scale unseen since the Second World War, and it must be convincing. I expect nothing but the best. Good luck, and good hunting.”

After the usual exchange of salutes, the display cleared. Bragg turned to Alexi, lifting a flexpad from his desk as he did.

“Well Captain Petrovich, it seems that the 65th has a pair of holes in its roster following your adventures in the Marianas. Have you reached a conclusion on filling them?”

Petrovich nodded excitedly. He immediately produced from his grey NUNE jacket a pair of fully completed transfer requests.

“Way ahead of you there. Found two guys I’d like from your irregular forces. One has a BD series MS, beautiful machine. Wonder if it would talk to me. The other is a bit of a blank, but his PT fits our logistics abilities without draining your men, so both should be fine. I’d like to get them onboard ASAP. Only 68 hours to go before phase one commences.”

Bragg nodded slightly as he took the requests from Alexi’s hand. Looking them over for a moment, he signed both before returning the documents.

“Very well Captain, I’ll make the arrangements to move their machines to the Conquistador. It would be best for you to bring them up to speed yourself. Preferably onboard your ship.”

A few minutes later, Alexi had sprinted to his landship to beat the new machines there. As he arrived panting on the deck, the base PA system issued yet another message.

“Attention, Warrant Officer Anderson and Ensign Asteral. Please grab your gear and machines and proceed to the Conquistador in slipway eight. Repeat, move your machines to slipway eight.”

New Guinea Base, Lea, New Guinea
September 9, 2013 0900 hours

Inside the Shirogane’s hangar, a young redheaded woman with a straight build and glasses stalked the catwalk. Observing each and every PT with a close eye, she finally came upon the Alteisen. Pausing for a moment, she turned to a mechanic working on an adjacent PT.

“Excuse me Private, but is Ensign Alfons inside his machine?”

The young man nodded hesitantly before turning away as quickly as possible. The Woman, Commander’s rank tabs on her shoulders, suddenly kicked the cockpit hatch with incredible force for her size. She then spoke in a disconcertingly even tone.

“Mister Alfons, it’s Commander Connor. In case you didn’t hear our captain, we were ordered to move these supplies ashore post haste. While I hate agreeing with him, this stuff does need to get transferred. Also, would you kindly find Mister Trethington and put him to work. Please comply or I’ll have to find some other suitable punishment for you."

Smiling, the officer turned and walked down the catwalk. Reaching her blue PT, she boarded and moved to assist the Hizacks in the hangar.


Meanwhile, Patrick Baker arrived at Lt. Colonel Xinyun’s office. Stalking into the room, he leapt into a chair with enough force to slide it several inches across the floor. Frowning, the Colonel immediately stood and moved to scold the young Major.

“I’ll be extremely clear Baker. As far as you are concerned, this little joyride of yours ends here. You are on my base and under my command, and you will follow my orders to the letter or I’ll have you tossed into the brig indefinitely. Understood?”

Patrick did nothing but shrug.

“Meh, I suppose.”

For a moment, Xinyun looked as though she might hit the kid. However, she managed to calm herself before anything got out of hand. Walking to a nearby map, she began to outline Baker’s mission.

Carpentaria Australia
September, 9 2013 0900

Being on standby was a drag for Matt but he didn't mind, he passed the time by double checking the Exbein's controls and weaponry to make sure that they were in perfect working order so there wont be any problems in the future. Just as Matt started to climb out of the cockpit of the Exbein, the PA sounded,

“Attention, Warrant Officer Anderson and Ensign Asteral. Please grab your gear and machines and proceed to the Conquistador in slipway eight. Repeat, move your machines to slipway eight.”

"The Conquistador? Isn't that the latest warship? Well I'll find out soon enough." Matt quickly ran to his locker nearby, picked up his bag and stuffed his belongings into it and picked up his pilot suit and helmet and closed the locker door. Now with gear in hand, he headed towards the Exbein. Using his gauntlet, he lowered the cable down and then grabbed it as it lowered back up towards the cockpit. "Alright, everything checks out...now sending Exbein's I.D code to the Conquistador" He opens comm with control. "Control, this is Ensign Asteral, I'm now moving out towards Conquistador's slipway eight as ordered". Given the go sign, Matt maneuvered the Exbein out of the base hanger and once he was outside he pushed the Exbein's thrusters forward and took off towards the Conquistador.

Shirogane's Hangar
September 9, 2013 0900 hours



"Never forget Meth, your spirit is the strongest of all."

Awake.
Methias wiped the sweat from his forehead. I can't believe I fell asleep. He had initially come here to clean up the Gunman, but sometimes sitting in it and thinking of Jack couldn't be helped. That suit.....how can anything be so fast, if only I hadn't hesitated. He shook his head. Jack never regretted anything, Methias couldn't allow himself to either. Not with the way things have been going. If he and his no co pilot were to survive he'd need to be ready for anything, and concentrating on what's happening now. He barely knew this new guy, and even though he was capable as a pilot, he still doubted whether or not he had the spirit when it was needed. He couldn't even remember the guys name, Tim or Tom or something. He smiled slyly and climbed out of the Lagann to stretch. I suppose I should get started on cleanin', he thought before he noticed Zane approaching.