PHASE 5: Natural Coordination (14th Fleet)

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Wedge14
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PHASE 5: Natural Coordination (14th Fleet)

Alan Mather's private quarters.

Mather's was awoken from his sleep his phone for the past two minutes had refused to stop ringing. He glanced at his digital alarm clock squinting angrily.

His wife rolled over in her bed annoyed to only hear what part of the conversation.

"Hello!? This better be important!"

"WHAT!? Alright i'll be down there in a minute! Get that Hiroshi!"

* * *

Mancini Hangar

Erin Bruist had had a dreadful two weeks. The missing admiral had shafted her dreams of pretty shoes, and this insane training schedule was really screwing up her roots.

In the past two weeks they had down so many mock battles and sat in on so many briefings she just didn't even care anymore.

She kicked off her mobile suit and floated over to wear Mike Santos was more then likely up to no good. She yawned as she approached him.

"How many times are they gonna keep making us do this drill? I'm tired of dying all the time."
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Sume Gai
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Harken

Harken had also been working non-stop; paperwork for a fleet commander was utterly ridiculous. The pilots certainly didn't like their schedules, which reminded Harken of the ones given to pilots when MS were first rolled out onto the battlefield, but Harken found he had no say in the mattter as the orders were directly from Vice Admiral Torring.

the only good thing was Harken had finally decided on the names of the Turkle's MS teams; Eagle for Nakamura's old team and Hawk for Santos' team.
"If You are a man you'll do what's important before you grieve" -Captain Harlock

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Mike remains relatively visibly unshaken after the events that had folded. Of course, he's not that easy to read after all. The past couple of weeks have had a not so fun series of drills, which were getting mindless. On the upside, he's quite gotten used to his role, as well as staving off people's whining.

Erin comes up to Mike, who's playing some sort of a classic game on his machine.

"How many times are they gonna keep making us do this drill? I'm tired of dying all the time."

"And I'm tired of not killing off Madagascar!" Mike grumbles angrily at the screen, hitting the reset button.
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- Turkle -

In the aftermath of the battle and during the fleet's reassignment, Jerzy had faded out of the major goings-on like a proper background character. Drills and military life didn't much bother him, and he had actually had a pleasantly uneventful review after the battle thanks to his unconfirmed kill and calm behavior.

The power shift at the top of the fleet wasn't something he concerned himself with. They had done their part over Copernicus, he had made sure of that. As long as things elsewhere were going as planned, he had to trust those in power would do the right thing.

Jerzy 'sat' on a catwalk up close to his suit's cockpit, using the railing to keep him in place. From his perch, he watched as Erin Bruist made her way over to Lt. Santos. "To complain again, no doubt," he figured. He didn't know if the lieutenant had noticed or not (or if he cared), but not once had Jerzy opened his mouth to complain during all the drills and busywork. It wouldn't get it over with any faster. "And it would only draw attention," he said to himself quietly.
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--Turkle--

What a whirlwind the past few weeks were. And what's even more odd was how Darrell's team essentially got shafted after the mess. The removal of their CO, despite how much of a jackass Nakamura is, was essentially the higher-ups giving them the finger. Of course, they screwed up, but to shift the chain of command so suddenly was ridiculous.

And to make things worse, they were left to fend for themselves with only two members to their team. Santos' team, which had a full staff, pretty much hogged most of the simulator time from Darrell and the rookie kid. Darrell himself didn't care much for training, but Terrace obviously needed the practice.

Visibly irritated with the recent happenings around him, Lt. JG. Bent found that he could only keep his mouth shut at a time like this. Complaining never got him anywhere, so all that's left is to fume by himself and wait for their orders. Though, he was rather irked that Harken hasn't found anything for them to do yet.
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Mancini
MS Hangar

Stan Loonis looked up from the tack weld he was inspecting. They had been all pitching in to try to get Ensign Dalos' Dagger L back to something resembling working order. They had most of the parts they needed, although there were some patches of the armor that still had the mauve tint from the Mobeius Armors they stripped it from. The limbs were functioning, of a sort; since the arms were repaired with parts from different suits, the AMBAC had to be recalibrated and the loading pattern wouldn't ever quite be up to optimal. Since the right arm was still not working at 100%, they ended up setting the default shield mount to the right arm and transferring the beam rifle to the left hand. All the mechanics on the ship, having finished the minor repairs to the ship itself and the few replacement parts on Loonis' and Russel's suits, were now tasked with the challenge of getting the nearly scrapped suit to "functional." Loonis was giving what help he could, mostly welding on armor plating and helping with the calibrations.

James, on the other hand, had been spending most of his time with Ensign McAllister. Only a few days ago had he started regaining conciousness after the surgery, and the doctors hadn't trusted his recovery sufficiently to begin asking questions. There were several, one of the first being,"Why was there a hypodermic needle shoved through your arm?"

In his moments he wasn't in the sickbay, he was in the simulator with Stan. They hadn't discussed it, but they ran 2 man simulations only. No telling when McAllister would be fit for duty again. They became fairly adept at the simulation provided, so they started increasing the numbers of enemies, the projected skill of said enemies, just about anything to try to stay interested in the simulation. James was currently on the way back to medical, back to check on Dalos. He poked his head into the room and said, "You up, D?" He had developed a habit of calling the ensign "D" since Dalos wasn't concious enough to tell him not to.
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Since returning to the Manichi, Dalos simply stayed in bed delirious, playing around on his computer having no idea what he was doing; just random button pressing. For all he knew, he formatted the drive and ordered a bride by mail. The doctors did recommend that he get up and get used to moving again; however, personally, he did not want to deal with any of the hand holding that came with the recovery process. The door opening periodically with another officer checking up was annoying enough for him.
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Wedge14
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Turkle Hangar

Erin placed her hands on her hips and frowned. She hated video games, thought they were stupid and a waste of time. The way Santos managed to spend hours cramped in his seat playing them infuriated her.

"Did you put that thing in there just so people think you're practising? You know it's pretty embarrassing when the team leader is busy playing games all the time."

She glanced back at Jerzy who as usual was minding his own business. The jerk should stand up for her and agree with her on this.
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-Ptolemaeus Lunar Base- Holding Cells
Deep within the holding cells of Ptolemaeus, Admiral Mathers and his escort of two guards made their way into the back, passing many prisoners and deserters who stood or sat, starring gloomily at the walls in front of them. Why Mathers kept looking to the left and the right as he passed various cells, he didn’t know…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!!! I’M TOO PRETTY TO BE CONFINED!!! THIS IS CRUELTY!!!! THIS VIOLATES MY CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS!!!!! WHO’S GOING TO FEED MY CATS!?!?!”

All he needed to do was follow the annoying noises. Figures it would take more than isolation to break that…that…

Mathers never understood what it was about Hiroshi that set him off. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t of good breeding, from an influential family, or not skilled in the art of warfare, both battlefield and political. He was the quintessential Admiral, in that regard. As for his, eccentricities, well, was that not merely the price of genius?

I have more than my own fair share of quirks, Mathers thought as he passed the younger Hiroshi in his cell. There was another unfortunate casualty in this little bit of business; Nakamura had none of the faults of his uncle, but many of the traits that made Satoshi, well, Satoshi; experience would take care of the rest, or would have.

Without a second thought at the meditating yet obviously shaken Nakamura, Mathers finally stopped and looked in disgust at Satoshi clawing at the walls in a disgusting display of unnecessary drama.
“Oh my poor cats; my poor cello; my poor nephew; my poor SELF; oh, woe are we! Woe is…Mathers! Which of the Heavenly Choir did I upset enough to be graced with this meeting?”

THAT was what set him off, Mathers thought with a sucking in of his breath and a count to ten; that condescending, holier than thou arrogance Satoshi brought to the table, hidden under an easily penetrated veil of foolishness that was nothing more than a raised middle finger to a system Hiroshi thought flawed and in need of fixing.

“How would you and your nephew like a chance at redeeming yourselves and cleaning your record, Satoshi?”

Hiroshi blinked, giving Mathers some smug satisfaction that he dropped something that the slightly younger man didn’t see coming. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nakamura perk up, hope behind his eyes betraying his naiveté.

Satoshi was not so naïve.

“I’m listening,” he said through narrowed eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Ptolemaeus Lunar Base: Conference Room-

Nakamura was going to be sick.

He felt that was the only rational response to what he just saw.

Sitting beside his uncle, both having been given both time to groom and their uniforms both dry-cleaned and pressed, the normally cold Nakamura had to blink several times. These ATLAS – characters, for that is all they were whatever their delusions of grandeur – were clearly insane. Well-trained, well-equipped insane, which is the worst kind there is.
Worse still, they were believers in a cause; their insanity only intensified by a fanatical belief in some wrong only they can right. Now that poor woman…

“She’s not dead, I don’t think.”

Nakamura turned at his uncle, wondering what in the world would posses him to say that!

Mathers too, looked shocked at the disgraced Admiral’s declaration.

“What?”

Satoshi shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, it just doesn’t make any sense. All that dramatic flair, a passionate speech, and a showy display of hate…and they didn’t kill her? Something’s fishy, and I don’t like it. Who is she, anyway?”

Mather’s fumbled through some paperwork before he caught himself; who was Hiroshi to ask ANYTHING of him?!

“Dr. McCrowan, a renowned geneticist. And that’s hardly the issue!!”

Satoshi blinked for the second time, although this time it was less in surprise and more from his train of thought being interrupted.

“Oh? Pray tell, what IS the point, other than an innocent woman who was kidnapped, is obviously being tortured, is still alive?”

Mather also found himself repeating a previous action; counting to ten. Nakamura, meanwhile, remained nervously silent knowing that anything he might say could take a highly dangerous situation and make it volatile.

“The point is that this Matthew O’Connor character identified himself as a former OMNI Enforcer…”

“Is he?”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT EITHER!!” Mather practically exploded at Hiroshi, knowing the man was being purposely dense and hating him for it.
Nakamura decided to venture forth.

“Sir, if I may?”

Mather was fuming too hard to do much except nod; someone might as well do some talking, and since Satoshi so desperately needed SOMEONE to say it, might as well be the boy.

Nakamura faced his uncle and, taking a breath, plunged forward.

“Whether O’Connor is former OMNI or not hardly matters, other than it will be worse if ZAFT and the PLANTS can prove it. O’Connor has declared it publicly, and old hatreds and prejudices are alive enough for everyone to believe him. Some in ZAFT who are in power might not just see this as a former soldier moving independently, but an OMNI operation that is being masqueraded as an individual terrorist attack. If that happens…”

“I know, Naka-chan,” Satoshi silenced his nephew with a fond smile, “It could mean war; a war neither side is prepared to fight but will destroy us both anyway.”

Mather sighed, glad that the REAL issue, OMNI’s credibility, was finally on the table.

“In order to prove to ZAFT and PLANTS that we had nothing to do with this, or at least delay them until we can, we need to send a taskforce to hunt them down. And to lead the taskforce, we need someone with a solid reputation as a skilled leader and brilliant strategist, but is also known to publicly disapprove of anything and everything that is Blue Cosmos.”

Satoshi smiled straight at Mather, and even Nakamura could hear the unspoken insult.

You needed someone good and unbiased ASAT, and thus your only option was to come crawling to me.

“Your record, as well as that of your nephew concerning the Copernicus incident will be…altered.”

“Charges will be dropped?” Satoshi ventured.

“What charges?” Mather asked back with a snake’s smile.

Hiroshi nodded his head before standing up and saluting Mather.

“I’ll be taking charge of the 14, then.”

Mather stuttered and blinked, “B-but that’s—!”

Satoshi spun smartly.

“Come Naka-chan! We have to get back to our cell! Admiral Mathers is apparently has more people he can go to!”

Mathers surprised even himself when he growled. “Fine Hiroshi; you’ll be restocked when you request, but don’t you dare come back without results.”

Satoshi didn’t even bother saluting again, so Nakamura did so with enough etiquette for the both of them, before rushing off to join his uncle.

“Mathers is a good officer,” Satoshi told his nephew when they were alone, “It’s such a shame that in the process, he forgot how to be a good man. Well, come Naka-chan, we have a lady to rescue.”

-Turkle-

Boarding his old vessel of command, Satoshi breathed in deeply, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the staff and personal who thought him dead or at least buried.

“What are you imbeciles doing?!” Nakamura cried out from behind them with venom, “Don’t you have work to do?”

Satoshi just merrily skipped his heels along his way to his old quarters.

“Someone go tell Harken that I’d like to see him; we have some hunting to do.”
I mean when you spend precious seconds to give an "All Your Nukes Are Belong To Us" speech before you even start the Gundam up, you know you're too overzealous for your own good.~wza
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Sume Gai
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Harken

-Turkle-
-Bridge-

Harken received word that Hiroshi was back and wanted to see him. Harken was glad to hear it; He felt he was barely qualified to be a captain much less leader of a fleet. Harken headed to greet the admiral at once though there was one thing that crossed his mind as he left the bridge.

'Just like him to show up AFTER the paperwork is done...'

-Admirals Quarters-

Harken had not taken the time to move his things in or the admiral's out something that would make Hiroshi's return that much easier. Harken knocked and after being called in saluted.

"Captain Harken Edo reporting as ordered and transferring command of the 14th fleet to Rear Admiral Hiroshi Sahashi."
"If You are a man you'll do what's important before you grieve" -Captain Harlock

"I like the SAGA. Its what Rambo would pilot if he was in Gundam 00" -Kylern
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Mike ignores Erin's banter as he sees the Hiroshi march into the ship. He had no reason to think of this as some weird unhostile takeover.

"They will save us from this un-fun game they call war games!" Mike shouts back at Erin with renewed vigor, pumping fists up in the air Tiger Woods style. Getting off his seat, he goes somewhere else. "I'm hungry!" WIth that, he left, probably for a pulled pork sandwich. Mmmmm.
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Mancini

- Medical -
James poked his head in Ens. Dalos' door. The poor kid looked catatonic, just randomly pressing buttons on the terminal. Well, he sure hoped he was catatonic, since nobody who was concious would really want the complete New Wave Jazz Revival box set shipped shipboard from Earth. Yeesh.

"Hey D, what's going on?" He let himself into the room, hoping to get a response from him. They put a lot of drugs into the guy, hopefully he'd still be able to blink properly.

----------------

- MS Hangar -

Stan punched in his code, and the simulator sprung back to life. He decided to crank up the difficulty to maximum just to see how long he'd last. 53 seconds later, he punched his code back in to "reanimate" himself and turned the difficulty down a little.

He wished now he'd payed more attention during MS Mechanics class to better understand how the repaired Dagger L was being put back together. For now, all he could do was run simulations by order and hold things for the mechanics.

After acing again on this difficulty, he decided to turn it back up to max. 'Hmm, made it all the way to 57 seconds this time. I'll try to hit a minute and a half before I call it quits.'
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Ens. Terrace emerged from the simulator, sweating. He had foolishly elected to go through a simulation of fighting the Freedom, out of some curiousity of how long he could last. He had entertained no illusions that he would actually win, given his inexperience, but he had to satisfy his curiousity.

He had gotten blown up seventeen times by the fake Freedom before he called it quits. Most of the time, he only lasted a handfull of seconds.

Terrace then went searching for Darrell. When he found him, Terrace collapsed into a seat nearby.

"Seventeen times. Whoever put that simulation of the Freedom into the simulators should be shot." Then he continued, "Unless it was an officer. Then they should just have a good talking-to."
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Darrell let out a good chuckle when Terrace returned from "training." He didn't know who inserted the god-like mobile suit into the simulator, but it was sure a clever way to break morale. Like they needed any more of that...

"Well... maybe next time you should work on a lower difficulty. It doesn't feel good to think that you're gonna die two seconds into the mission."
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Gambit01
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-Admiral's Quarters-

Sahashi favored Harken with a small smile, before pressing a button on his desk. A small screen rolled up in front of the admiral, who motioned for Harken to join him.

"We have a mission Harken," he said simply by way of explanation before pressing a button and bracing himself to watch the terrorists declaration of war one more time...

-Somewhere in the Turkle-

"Well, glad to know that the two of you didn't just slack off while I was away; or one of you didn't at least."

Nakamura emerged - morphed really - out of somewhere, coming up behind Terrace and Darrell.
I mean when you spend precious seconds to give an "All Your Nukes Are Belong To Us" speech before you even start the Gundam up, you know you're too overzealous for your own good.~wza
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-Turkle-
-Admiral's Quarters-

Harken watched the video in disgust; these people were crazy they had involved a city of civilians just to capture one person and then torture her. Then a question struck Harken 'why?' in order to determine that he would need more information.

"Sir who was that woman?"
"If You are a man you'll do what's important before you grieve" -Captain Harlock

"I like the SAGA. Its what Rambo would pilot if he was in Gundam 00" -Kylern
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Gambit01
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- Admiral's Quarters -

"A victim that needs to be rescued," replied Sahashi. "I don't know why she's still alive, but apparently, she's some famed geneticist. That above all else has me worried; what would these anti-coordinator madmen want with a geneticist?"

The Admiral stroked his chin.

"As soon as we are able, we make for Copernicus City; we'll start our search for this 'ATLAS' there, starting with what we can learn of this 'Dr. McGrowan' and what she was researching; maybe that will give us a clue."
I mean when you spend precious seconds to give an "All Your Nukes Are Belong To Us" speech before you even start the Gundam up, you know you're too overzealous for your own good.~wza
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-Admiral's Quarters-

Harken was curious now; what made this geneticist working on? Generally such a person would be "kill on sight" to an anti-coordinator group.

"very well sir; we'll be ready to set out within the hour"
"If You are a man you'll do what's important before you grieve" -Captain Harlock

"I like the SAGA. Its what Rambo would pilot if he was in Gundam 00" -Kylern
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"Or one of you didn't at least."

Terrace almost jumped, then scrambled to salute.

"Sir! Good to see you back! I've been wondering where you were!"
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Darrell didn't cringe like Terrace did, but he did snap a salute instantly. It was more so out of protocol rather than respect for the CO. He wouldn't be surprised if the jail-time made Nakamura more of an a**hole than before.

"Your return should lead us to expect some kind of catch for your release, I suppose sir?" Bent replied, eyes narrowing. The Alliance was letting Hiroshi off too easily for a "terrorist collaborator."

"Are we to continue chasing after those ZAFT bastards back at the Moon or do something else entirely?"
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