Project PHAETON 13 (Patreon)

Commissioned by RoyalTwinFangs

Project PHAETON

Chapter 13

-VB-

Kori grinned as she leaned out of the way, not that she had to. 

A huge beam blurred through the space between her Psycho and the lieutenant’s mobile weapon.

“Command, we have been shot at,” Lieutenant SevenStar reported with a drawl. “It is clear that the Zeonites are a threat to the humanitarian effort of House Caelum. Permission to engage?”

“Permission granted,” General Noctis Caelum’s voice came through clearly despite the fact that a Minovsky Particle beam cannon had just seared through space around her and the lieutenant. “Strike to disable.”

“Acknowledged, command,” the lieutenant replied. Then he clicked something on his end. “Aight, we’re now talking just between the two of us, sergeant. You know the plan. We will ‘try’ to ‘disable’ them, but it’s not going to be our fault if the Zeonites suck at building ships, right?”

She grinned. “Of course, lieutenant. Don’t shoot a 17th century cannon at a 20th century battleship and all that.” 

“Then go nuts,” he said as he armed his mobile weapon’s “backpack” turrets and then boosted forward. 

She boosted forward right after him with a bloodthirsty grin on her face. 

Soon afterward, the Zeonites began to pour out attacks against the two of them. Beams came left and right, their camera-dependent sensors screamed at her of incoming rockets, and there were even fighter and mobile suit launches from distant warships. 

She shivered in anticipation as she got her Psycho Suit to pull out a pair of 120mm machine guns. She had exactly eight magazines, and the lieutenant had another dozen each on either side of his modular mobile weapon platform for her to use. 

She twirled around as a beam came close to grazing her. 

“Alright, Psycho,” she whispered. “Let’s get revenge for our family and friends!” 

The machine… responded. Subtly. 

It rumbled in a way that had nothing to do with the acceleration, dodges, and rumbling of thrusters. 

---

Lieutenant Xavier SevenStar did not know much. 

He was from one of the youngest lines of clones. In fact, he was one of the youngest clones out there, and that was because of what they were made for: mobile suit combat. 

While their own suits were being made, he and his siblings were given the chance to pilot these “mobile weapons,” essentially an addition of a giant “backpack” that went on the back of a mobile suit. He piloted the suit, and the suit communicated with the mobile weapon platform.

And should things get rough, he had been instructed to use the platform as a diversion to escape. And to make sure his new subordinate got out as well, of course. 

Unlike Sergeant Mori, Xavier didn’t have any particular feelings about Zeon and its people.

They weren’t fucking with the League or House Caelum directly, so why should he care? People have been killing each other for tens of thousands of years. Sure, the latest warcrime was a bit much even for a disconnected and disinterested clone like him, but even then, he personally felt that the affairs of the “Earth Sphere” was their problem, not House Caelum’s.

Apparently, his superiors begged to differ because he was now out here, fighting “the good fight.”

To be honest… he didn’t care who he was fighting.  

He got to fight. 

That was good enough for him. 

Xavier grinned as he activated the mobile weapon platform’s biggest weapon: a 400mm autocannon. The top of the platform squealed open and the cannon unfurled its metallic segments before slamming down to aim toward the Zeon squadron. 

The computers all around him in the cockpit gave him a firing solution, taking into account a lot of things he hadn’t expected.

A single shell loaded itself into the autocannon…

And he fired.

The shell blitzed across the empty space, curving ever so slightly along the orbit of Earth. Then slammed into the warship closest to them, the one that had been firing all of those beams at them. 

“Sergeant, go ahead and show them what a real mobile suit fights like.”

Sergeant Mori acknowledged, and her Psycho Suit blasted forward at speeds his mobile weapon could not hope to match.

The most he could do was make sure the way was open for her to start her slaughter. 

So he loaded the autocannon and fired again. 

---

Years of studying naval tactics and strategy to make up for his shame was not helping him at all. Not when the Leaguers pulled out another bullshit from their ass.

Because the bigger mobile suit deployed by the asteroid fuckers gutted the Gunavara-class destroyer brought here specifically to act as anti-fighter escort. 

What kind of a mobile suit has the firepower to cripple a warship?! 

“Sochin has taken critical damage along the port side! A third of the beam cannons have been disabled!” 

Garma gritted his teeth. 

Of course, the goddamn Phaekers were up to something again! 

“Visuals confirm a single mobile suit on approach.”

“Take it out!” he ordered. “I want the warships to focus fire on the other suit but I want all fighters and mobile suits to take out the idiot who thinks she can take on an entire squadron! Tell Sochin to -.”

Another shell came silently screaming through the void and slammed into the Glorious Return, one of the Musai cruisers. The shell punched through the lower decks and set off an explosion. 

“Glorious Return is reporting critical damage to its mobile suit bays!”

“Sochin’s thrusters are sputtering. It won’t be able to maneuver effectively!” 

“Enemy mobile suit, Echo, is in range of our Zakus!” 

Garma’s eyes snapped up and he looked. His flagship bridge’s cameras zoomed in to show him the fight, and he grimaced as he quickly realized what was going on. 

While at a distance, the enemy had to duck and weave to close the gap, but they were able to. And once they did… it was overwhelming. The Phaeker’s mobile suit - which looked as complete as their own Zaku - possessed superior maneuverability and firepower, and had enough of both to completely overwhelm the Zakus. He watched as the Phaeker’s mobile suit fired its guns unerringly into the Zakus who tried to dodge, but the thrusters on the Zakus weren’t meant to dodge machinegun fire that close. 

One of the Zakus tried to predict the trajectory of the Phaeker suit’s flight path, but the Phaeker predicted the prediction and switched its acceleration and vector on the fly! 

That was bullshit!

Even as dozens of Zakus poured their firepower together to form evershifting criss crossing nets of deadly “wires” of bullets, the Phaeker suit twirled and even jumped through the attacks. 

How?! 

---

“This is a deadly game of tag~!” Sergeant Kori sang to herself. 

And if it hadn’t been for whatever computer software was letting her see the attacks, she would have died a bit ago. 

She had thought that it was odd how there were so many camera sensors and sensor-related equipment on the Psycho Suit, but now she understood why! 

Those sensors all connected to the central processing unit at the heart of the suit, which then predicted where enemy attacks might land, and converted all of those data into predictions for her to see. 

And because this suit was made to interface with her Newtype ability, she could almost feel what the computers were telling her. 

A sort of … human-machine instinct that she lacked before. 

Through it, she could almost feel the suit like it was her body. 

Not quite but it was close.

“HAHAHAHAHA!” she laughed as she slid out of the way of an attack meant to pierce her core and fired off a burst from her machinegun at the idiot who thought they could kill her off so easily. 

And then a burst of another shell zipped across the battlefield as the lieutenant nailed another warship. 

She didn’t know what those shells were, but they were doing a lot more damage than what they should be! 

And if the lieutenant was out there crippling warships, then at the very least, she should be wiping the slate clean of all suits and fighters. 

Kori narrowed her eyes and shot forward when she spotted a few fighters trying to reach the lieutenant. 

Her suit gave her the vision.

It showed her where to shoot.

So she pulled her gun up and shot. 

Bullets faster than the fighters silently blurred through space before slamming into the fighters. The shells tore through the initial -.

No, they just tore through the fighters! 

“The fuck?!” she laughed out loud on open channels. “Your bosses didn’t even armor your fighters?! All of you are in pre-prepared tin coffins!” The radio was garbled because of the Minovsky particle interference, but at this short of a distance, some of it was still getting through.

“Traitors don’t get to judge us!” someone shouted back. 

See?

---

“She doesn’t realize they are encircling her,” Xavier grunted as he switched the shell that was about to be loaded for something else. 

The weapon platform opened up its rear panels, and two dozen rockets flared out before taking a hard turn toward the Zakus. 

The Zakus saw the rockets coming quickly and began to fire. 

The dumb fire rockets took shots here and there, but most of them survived until they were just over the “peak” of the developing spherical encirclement.

There, they detonated. 

Instead of exploding, the rockets scattered IFF sensitive mines. 

The mines scattered everywhere… and the madwoman in her Psycho Suit grabbed some of the mines as she sped past them and hurled them at the Zakus. 

“Ah,” he muttered. “She’s treating them like grenades.”

Because the mines won’t ever explode while her suit was in their explosive radius, she could hold onto them as long as she needed to and even close quarter engagement at knife fight ranges with a Zaku wouldn’t set them off. 

Then his suit’s computer warned him of another beam getting ready to be fired at him.

He hummed as he dodged the aim, not the beam.

He cycled through more shells -.

---

Garma realized that this was the Skirmish of 75 repeating all over again. 

Phaekers and their bullshit overwhelming him. Bullshit on his side and theirs causing a battle to break out. 

If he failed here… then he really might be kicked out of the family for good. Or worse, getting demoted all the way down to private. He needed to get something to avoid punishment. 

… The suit hurting his warships. If it was able to hurt warships, then it had to have a weapon too big for it to be maneuverable, unlike the orange Phaeker. 

“All suits and fighters are to ignore the orange Phaeker and charge the Phaeker suit in the rear,” he hissed out. “I want all warships to advance -!” 

“Sir, we have a new force! Vector -21, 72. Range 200 clicks and closing! They are moving to intercept the Phaeton League’s naval squadron!” someone shouted over his command. 

He was about to reprimand them but then the words registered in his head after just a moment. 

-21, 72. That was from his rear and “above.” Closer to the orbits above the Pacific Ocean.

“I want visuals!” he shouted. 

And he got them in seconds. The cameras in the rear of his flagship zoomed in on the rapidly approaching force, and this force had Musais. 

His eyes widened.

Those were the reinforcements he had been waiting for. How did they get here so early? 

No, that was not a question for right now. He needed to get them to engage the enemy. 

“Signal them!” he hissed out. “Our squadron will take care of the suits, they should attack the convoy!” 

Garma grinned. 

With nearly twice the number of force at hand, they could do this! They could win!