[FFML] [Gundam AU][Draft] Gundam Storm, Chapter 2

[adynon at internode.on.net]

	Sparta Base, nine months ago  
 
	Ares, Pallas and I took off our combats after the morning training 
session and headed for the showers. Most days, showers and meals were 
the only chance for socialisation we supersoldier candidates had, 
although as the top three members of gold group, we were awarded with 
more free sessions than others – free sessions meaning we got to 
choose what we trained in or studied. My favourites were close-range 
combat and MS unit tactics.  
 
	“You did really well today, Pallas.” I said.  
 
	“Don’t talk to me like I’m in Silver or Bronze platoon.” 
Pallas said, slightly miffed. “I was damn near perfect, and you know 
it.”  
 
	“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Ares commented. “After all, I 
have a winning record against you in combat exercises. You too, 
Athene, I might add.” Damn, he sounded smug.  
 
	“Is that a challenge?” Pallas and I chorused.  
 
	“Any time you want.”  
 
	“Anyway, can I assume you saw the information bulletin this 
morning?” Pallas asked. The Commonwealth’s bulletins were designed 
to keep us aware of any potential threats to security.   
 
	“Yes, it seems as though all the tension with the Lunar Pact 
nations has finally come to a head.  
 
	“Which means we might finally get called up.” There was no 
mistaking the enthusiasm in Pallas’ voice, an enthusiasm I shared, 
as did Ares and the rest of my siblings. This was what we were born 
for – the prospect of going into actual combat, not just sims, made 
our blood rush. “I’m going to prove my skills, and serve the 
Commonwealth as I was born to do.”  
 
	 “That’s your weakness, Pallas. You think too small.” Ares 
said, his voice lightly teasing. “We’re the first of a new breed, 
superior to the old humanity. This is our opportunity to show our 
power.”  
 
	 It was at that moment I realised that, even if we were born to be 
soldiers, we had our own desires. Our own dreams. I thought for a 
moment – what was it that I wanted most of all?  
 
	 “I hope we’re all able to fight side by side. Me, both of you, 
and the rest of our siblings.”  
 
	 “With yourself in command.” Ares added.  
 
	 “Being named as commander would be an honour.” I replied. “But 
even if I’m not in command, just being able to be at my siblings’ 
sides in battle. That’s what I want most of all.”  
 
	 On impulse, I put my arms around Pallas and Ares’ shoulders, and 
we huddled together like we would before a game of Capture the Flag. I 
briefly felt as if Pallas’ pale skin and Ares’ bronzed tones were 
one with my own dark-skinned body, while a single stream of water 
washed down from above us. Together, we thrust our fists upwards and 
cheered, and I heard my other siblings cheering along with us. Normal 
humans would call this sensation “joy”. At the time, we didn’t 
have a word for it.  
 
	  Maybe such a gesture was tempting fate. Except that it wasn’t 
fate that caused what followed. Rather, it was people who were at 
fault for what happened between us.   
 
	MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM STORM  
 
	Report 02: Soldiers’ Dreams  
 
	A Fanfic by Andrew Dynon  
 
	Based on Mobile Suit Gundam created by Yoshiyuki Tomino and Hajime 
Yadate   
 
	Athene  
 
	Commonwealth Battleship, “Gallipoli”  
 
	 “So, a real live supersoldier, huh? Sorry if I’m still getting 
used to the idea.”  
 
	 “It’s supposed to be lights out, Yamada.”  
 
	“Hey, I wanna get to know my new bunkmate. For starters, how long 
were you at that Sparta Base or whatever for? Did you have any 
parents? Did you just train all the time? Did you ever get to, you 
know, be a kid?”  
 
	Disclosing the information still didn’t feel right to me, but 
Lieutenant McDermott had said we needed to talk if we were to work 
effectively as a team. “I was born at Sparta Base, eighteen years 
ago, and we had instructors instead of parents. Training was pretty 
much constant, although in my early years, the exercises often took 
the form of games.”  
 
	“Wow, so you must be pretty good at fighting, huh? Are you the 
first supersoldier to come out of there?”  
 
	“Two others were put on active status at the same time. I do not 
know where they were assigned. We are the first to go active.” Why 
hadn’t we been kept together? We always worked well as a unit. 
Finally moving out, and we weren’t together…  
 
	“The way your head dropped then… you miss them, don’t you?” 
Shane asked. “Anyway, it’s a bit of a coincidence that a war 
starts just as the first supersoldiers turn eighteen.”  
 
	“Wars happen all the time.”  
 
	“Yeah, but this one looks like being bigger than most. Well, it was 
just a thought.”  
 
	“Yamada, we really should go to sleep now.”  
 
	“Fine. Just one more thing. You said you had males and females 
showering and changing together all the time?”  
 
	“Correct.”  
 
	“And yet you’re unfamiliar with something called an 
‘erection’, meaning none of you ever got horny?”  
 
	“I am unsure what that term means, but from the context I’d say 
it’s also correct.”  
 
	“For some reason, that just seems so freaky.”  
 
	*****  
 
	 The next morning, Captain Monash informed us of our orders. We were 
to head to Sirenum Fossae, and take part on the assault on the Lunar 
Pact base there. Taking the base would help free up ground transport 
through the nearby region. For the first time, I was going to see real 
combat.  
 
	 Before that, though, the Captain, via Lieutenant McDermott, ordered 
me to undergo a medical examination. Ensign Yamada accompanied me to 
the infirmary to see a middle-aged oriental man whose uniform 
indicated he was a Commonwealth navy medic, accompanied by a young 
woman with darker skin, wearing a hijab and the high-visibility yellow 
and red uniform of the Interplanetary Rescue Corps. The IPRC was a 
medical organisation recognised by both sides involved in the war, 
existing to give assistance to injured soldiers. Under the treaties, 
their vehicles and staff were permitted on board military vessels, in 
order to easily access battlefields. I didn’t see the point of their 
existence – wounded soldiers should be their own side’s 
responsibility, not that of some bunch of civilians who decided to 
stick their noses into the battlefield.  
 
	 “Khadija!” Ensign Yamada called out. “This is Athene. Take 
good care of her, right?”  
 
	 “Sure thing. Athene, I’m Khadija Akram, and I’m part of the 
IPRC. This is Doctor Chen Li.” She smiled at me, but I didn’t 
smile back. “Shane and I knew each other growing up.”  
 
	 She pointed to a metal sphere with a face that was perched on the 
back shelf, coloured the same yellow and red as her uniform. “Oh, 
and this is Haro. He’s a kind of assistant to me. Say hi to Athene, 
Haro.”  
 
	 Haro, Athene!  
 
	 “Khadija and I used to compete in mini-MS racing as kids.” Shane 
added. “She was really good. Almost as good as me.” He had that 
annoying grin on his face again.  
 
	 “Excuse me? Did you say ‘almost’?”  
 
	 “Then shouldn’t you have enlisted in the Commonwealth forces 
when the war broke out?” I asked.  
 
	 “I hate the thought of fighting.” Khadija said. “And I wanted 
to work toward a medical degree, so I joined the IPRC. I pilot a 
rescue MS, retrieving soldiers who are injured or stranded on the 
battlefield.” If you hate fighting so much, then what the hell are 
you doing on a battleship? Get off and let people like me handle 
things. Stupid woman.   
 
	And that Haro thing seemed like it could get irritating fast, too.  
 
	 “Well, lie down and let’s take a look at you. I couldn’t 
believe it when I was told. The thought of someone being raised just 
to fight…”  
 
	 “I’m fine with it. Shane, did you tell her that?” I neither 
needed, wanted, nor would accept sympathy for being what I was, 
especially from someone who had no business being on the ship in the 
first place. And what was Shane thinking, giving confidential 
information to someone who wasn’t even part of the military?  
 
	 “Actually, it was Captain Monash who told us. She felt that we 
should know about you, in the event that you needed medical aid.”  
 
	 I sighed, and let them proceed with their examination.  
 
	*****  
 
	 I decided to deal with the irritation of the medical exams by 
heading to the hangar – but with my anticipation for real combat 
building, I had something other than a simulation in mind.  
 
	 Good morning, Athene.  
 
	“Good morning, Metis. It looks like we’ll be going into combat 
for the first time soon.”  
 
	Let’s work well together.  
 
	“Roger. I’m looking forward to it.” I swear, if Metis had a 
face, she’d be smiling.  
 
	She? Did I just catch myself assigning imaginary characteristics to 
an AI? Its voice was feminine, but... I shook my head and refocused on 
the task at hand.  
 
	“Metis, display known data on Sirenum fortifications and known 
Lunar Pact forces stationed there.” Strategically, ground-based 
supply lines were still an important part of warfare, being cheaper 
and with greater capacity than air. Taking out the base at Sirenum 
would free up a large number of those ground supply lines, but it was 
not an easy task. The base was well-fortified, able to resist 
bombardment, and its positioning made a ground approach difficult. The 
idea of fitting boosterpacks onto MS had been considered, but with the 
boosterpacks equipped, the GR series was deficient in manoeuvrability, 
and unsuited to anything beyond strafing runs, which troops in a 
fortified position could easily hunker down against. But what about on 
our Gundams?   
 
	“Metis, simulate the effects of attaching a Type M-5 boosterpack to 
this MS.”  
 
	Speed would increase by approximately 300%. However, turn radius 
would increase by a similar amount, and reaction time would be slowed 
by 33%. Additionally, the MS would lose access to weapons stored in 
backpack, and walking would be inhibited. Ensign Gold would be 
subjected to a corresponding increase in G-Forces experienced during 
acceleration.  
 
	“I can handle the G-Forces, Metis.” The numbers weren’t great, 
but I believed that if we timed things right, they’d be good enough 
for what I had planned. “Simulate an artillery barrage and assault 
on the fortifications by Gundam flight and supporting MS units, using 
those numbers.”   
 
	Beginning simulation. Several windows appeared on the screen, showing 
multiple iterations of the scenario proscribed. I looked over the 
predicted results of the scenario. Viewing the simulated results, it 
seemed that my plan had a good chance of taking the objective.  
 
	 Feeling better thanks to the mental stimulation, I copied the data 
to my pad and headed to Lieutenant McDermott. When I found him, I 
showed him the data, trying to rein in my enthusiasm and present 
myself as a proper soldier. I waited for several minutes as he looked 
over the simulations, before he finally looked back up.  
 
	 “Tell me, ensign, what were you focusing on when you developed 
this plan?”  
 
	 “Taking the fortifications, and destroying the enemy, as the 
mission objective stated, sir.”  
 
	 “I’m assuming that’s what you were taught to focus on at 
Sparta Base, right?”  
 
	 “That is correct, sir.” Of course that was what the mission was 
supposed to focus on. So why did his voice seem to carry a tone of 
disapproval?  
 
	 “It’s an interesting plan…” he began. “However, you ought 
to have focused more on preserving yourself and your fellow 
soldiers.”  
 
	 “But sir! Is it not a soldier’s duty to risk her life in order 
to accomplish the mission objective?”  
 
	 “That’s true, to an extent.  But the ba- people who trained you 
seem to have planted the idea that you’re expendable into your 
head.” He sighed, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen 
carefully to this, Ensign Athene Gold, because what I’m about to 
tell you probably goes against the entire attitude they wanted to 
engrain into your head: There is no such thing as an expendable 
soldier. Of course, every time you go into battle, you’re risking 
your life. But as an officer, it’s my duty to see that as many of my 
troops as possible come back alive. You are not to needlessly 
sacrifice yourself – or worse, risk the lives of others – just to 
complete an objective or defeat an enemy. Do you understand?”  
 
	 “Yes, sir…”  
 
	 “You don’t sound very certain of that. Well, don’t let it get 
you down. Concerns over the risk involved aside, you did show 
initiative, and that’s something I want to encourage. I’ll see if 
I can’t work some revisions to these to reduce the risk involved. In 
the meantime, take some time to think over what I said. Dismissed.”  
 
	 I headed off, his words echoing in my head. The instructors had 
defined putting one’s own safety ahead of the mission objectives as 
“cowardice”, and made us repeat the mantra supersoldiers do not 
show cowardice over and over. And I was not afraid to die in battle. 
But the sincerity of Lieutenant McDermott’s voice, the tinge of pain 
that had shaded the words he had looked me in the eye and spoken, 
placed a shadow of doubt about that mantra in my mind for the first 
time.    
 
	 Lieutenant McDermott had said his duty was to see that his troops 
came back alive. If I were given command over my siblings, would I 
expect them to complete their objectives even at the cost of their 
lives? If I were in command, and ordered Pallas or Ares to sacrifice 
themselves, I was sure they would obey – and for some reason, that 
knowledge made the thought of doing so even harder to stomach.   
 
	 And what about my younger siblings in Silver and Bronze platoons? I 
thought of Hippolyta, with her golden hair and bright eyes, full of 
energy, throwing herself into every training exercise with unmatched 
enthusiasm. Scipio, and the diligence he showed in his tactical 
analysis. I knew they looked up to me as an elder sibling, relying on 
me for guidance. Could I order them to their deaths?  
 
	 Would one of my superiors order me to order them to die?  
 
	 For the rest of the day, I couldn’t get the thought out of my 
mind.  
 
	*****  
 
	 At dinner, Ensign Yamada spotted me from across the mess hall, and 
headed over to sit next to me.  
 
	 “Athene, you look kind of down. What is it, nervous about going 
into combat?”  
 
	 “I’m not nervous. And I’m not “down”, either. I’m 
thinking about something Lieutenant McDermott told me, that’s 
all.”  
 
	 “And it’s made you feel down. Well, I won’t intrude. But I do 
have something that might help cheer you up.”  
 
	 “What is it?”  
 
	 “Come to the rec room after dinner, and I’ll show you.”  
 
	 The “rec room”, such as it was, was an open area near the crew 
quarters, with a few consoles lining the walls, and some worn couches 
and a table in the middle. Shane had mentioned that the consoles had 
game and vid software installed, but they weren’t like the training 
games or information vids I was familiar with from Sparta Base. 
Yamada, already seated on one of the couches, gestured for me to sit 
beside him.  
 
	 “When we talked last night, it sounded like you never really got 
to be a kid. So I thought I’d help you with that.”  
 
	 “But I’m not a child.”  
 
	 “Well, if you’re gonna learn to be human, that’s the place you 
gotta start. Luckily…” he tapped his datapad, and the screen in 
front of us flicked on, displaying a man in a ridiculously 
brightly-colored costume and cape, flying through space apparently not 
needing oxygen.  
 
	 “This was my favourite show when I was growing up. I’ll explain 
it to you as we watch.”  
 
	 The battles in Ensign Yamada’s vids were completely unrealistic 
and the tactics used were utterly ridiculous, and yet, for some reason 
I found myself entranced by the show, hypnotised by a whirlwind of 
colour and energy. As we lay in our bunks that night, Shane told me 
that I was grinning the whole way through the grid, but he must have 
been exaggerating.  
 
	 Right?  
 
	*****  
 
	 Two hours before dawn the next day, we headed to the hangar to 
perform pre-combat checks on the Gundams. Lieutenant McDermott had 
presented his refinements of my proposal to his superiors, and 
received permission for the operation – although he mentioned his 
suspicion that those superiors weren’t as concerned for our safety 
as he was. That didn’t matter to me. My whole body practically 
buzzed with the anticipation of heading into actual combat – I was 
finally going to do what I was created to do. My adrenaline was 
already beginning to flow, sharpening my senses, speeding up my 
reflexes.  
 
	 Are you ready, Athene?   
 
	 “It’s my duty to be ready, Metis. What about you?”  
 
	 Being ready is my duty, as well.  
 
	 “Glad to hear it. Let’s make sure we’re as good a team in real 
combat as we were in the sim yesterday.”  
 
	 Roger that.  
 
	 I listened to the sound of the artillery barrage exploding over the 
enemy positions, watching as the countdown clock ticked toward our 
launch time.  
 
	 “Hey, Athene, your first time in real combat. You nervous?” 
Shane asked.  
 
	 “Not at all.”  
 
	 “Okay, I know you’re a supersoldier and stuff, but I’ve been 
in combat before and I’m still feeling nervous here.”  
 
	 “Get over it.” That was what our instructors would say.  
 
	 “Hey, a little sympathy wouldn’t hurt!”  
 
	 “I don’t do sympathy. Especially not in battle.”   
 
	 “All right, we’re launching in ten seconds, so sit your arses in 
for the ride and try to keep them alive!” Lieutenant McDermott 
ordered. “Four, three, two, one! GD-1 Alpha, Flame, launch!”  
 
	 “GD-1 Beta, Lightning, Launch!”  
 
	 “GD-1 Gamma, Gale, Launch!” Even with my normal suit working to 
counteract the G-Forces, I felt the pressure of acceleration on my 
body as the boosterpack kicked in, counteracted by the rush of 
excitement I felt. The monitors, set to night vision, showed several 
GR-series MS to our flight’s flanks boosting towards the Pact base 
as well.   
 
	Under normal circumstances, I preferred to have a weapon in each 
hand, foregoing a shield, but the reduction in manoeuvrability and 
reaction time due to the boosterpack made additional defensive 
capabilities prudent. Unlike the standard setup, though, I carried the 
Gale’s beam rifle in the left hand and the shield on the right arm 
– the unfamiliar arrangement and differences in the angle of attack 
might give me an edge over the enemy. A minor edge, but an edge 
nonetheless.  
 
	 Our departure was timed to minimise the gap between the end of the 
artillery barrage and our flight reaching the fortifications. Still, 
there was less fire coming at us than I had expected. Perhaps the 
enemy troops had been instructed to hold their fire, on the basis that 
it was hard to hit an MS moving at boosterpack-enhanced speeds at long 
range. Or perhaps they were still hunkered down, anticipating a 
strafing run. As we approached, I saw that my second guess had been 
correct.  
 
	 “Aw, look, they’re having a sleep in!” Shane commented over 
the radio, then switched to an open channel. “Ladies and gentlemen 
of the Lunar Pact, time for your wake-up call! Today’s weather will 
be cloudy with a strong chance of missile showers, beam rifle fire, 
and otherwise getting your arses kicked!” As he spoke, we changed 
our course, breaking off from the GRs’ strafing run to swing down 
towards the fortifications. McDermott and Yamada launched missiles to 
give us more cover, while Metis identified a series of targets for the 
Gale. I aimed and fired at one Regulus, shooting it in the cockpit, 
and immediately shot at the next one, with the same result.  
 
	 “Athene, did you aim for their cockpits on purpose?” Yamada 
asked.  
 
	 “Of course. It’s the most efficient location.”  
 
	 “Geez, you’re cold.”  
 
	 “Stay focused, Yamada!” McDermott warned.  
 
	 I turned down the throttle, and dived into the enemy base. 
Manoeuvring among buildings like this with a boosterpack would have 
been considered tricky even out of combat, but the Gundam could handle 
it. We continued the attack for several minutes, before we heard the 
rumble of a massive engine.  
 
	 “Is that what I think it is?” Yamada asked.  
 
	 I knew what it was. We had trained in, and against, them at Sparta 
Base, one against a whole wing of MS. In the past few months, the 
instructors had even hinted that there were special ones designed for 
us in planning, and if we performed well, we may have the privilege of 
piloting them on the battlefield.  
 
	 “Mobile armor…”  
 
	To Be Continued…  
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