A handful of pilots were arrayed around the holotable of the Hathor's Operation's room, looking at the various projected data set up. Nearby, Commander Cortes sat in an open duty station's chair, while his executive officer, Cyrano McQuve, worked the controls of the Holotable facilitating the briefing. The droning of the craft's powerful engines was drowned out somewhat by the walls of the room, though occasional vibrations did move unattended objects.

"What we're dealing with is a seek and destroy mission." He began. "Our targets are five of the local Battlemech Derivatives which, for the past month, have been exclusively targeting our allies' planetary resources. These units are called 'Gundams' by our allies, a name derived from the rare alloy used in their construction. Each of these machines is estimated to be Seventeen Meters tall, and protected by an armor material that is energy and ballistic resistant, Electrically nonconductive, and, according to our allies, is unable to be detected by Radar."

Cyrano paused to judge the reaction of his audience to this information. Some seemed concerned at engaging this collection of large, well armored, hard to find Mechs. The best the Lance had was the commander's old 75 ton heavy mech, and that was in mothball back at the IE Jumpship, weeks away if they needed it.

"It is also worth noting that the estimates of the mass of these machines range from Eight to Twelve tons." Cyrano continued, tabbing up images of the machines in question, alongside known data on Oz's Leo for comparison. "Mass wise, they are not much different from Oz's normal combat machines. The Leo, seen here, mounts a very basic Titanium Alloy armor. It possesses Jump Jets, an incredibly compact fusion reactor, a central cockpit, and does not mount any weapon hardpoints in its default state. Most of its mass are the components necessary to move the machine, with very little actual armor and a lot of surface space to target."

"These things, they crumple like beer cans." Cortes added from his chair. "Modular equipment. Very weak. We see them carry Grade II Autocannons and "laser swords" most commonly."

"More interestingly, the standard cockpit set up does not allow a Neurohelmet interface." Cyrano continued, punching up an interior view of a Leo Cockpit. "All of the movements and controls of these machines are done through programed actions and manual controls. Its presumed a combination of the machine's light weight, large feet, and a decent Gyro system allows the machines to autobalance."

"So the local forces, Oz, have low grade security mechs." Remarked an unamused young man with a mop of red hair. This was the company's Crab pilot, Jordan "Prince" Volder, an exiled royal from the Lyran Commonwealth. "Would not be the first time we couldn't trust our allies to hold their own. What about the Gundams?"

"You sit and listen, chico." Cortes said, gesturing to the pilot with a head nod. "Cyrano will get to it. This is all important."

Cyrano nodded to Cortes and then turned back to the table. "Oz has developed a variety of modular options for these machines. They used them in place of dedicated combat fighters in space, and even have flight packs for making them airborne. They can be equipped with weapons ranging from Laser guns to a field gun similar in power to a Class X Autocannon, the Dober Gun. This gun is theorized to be able to damage a Gundam. The Leo is the standard war machine for the Oz forces, and has been for two decades. This is what our targets based all their technology on."

"Low mass, Jump Jet Equipped, light armor, we even have reason to believe the cockpit set up is similar, lacking need for cooling suits or neurohelmets. These machines do not generate much heat, if at all, and its all easily distributed over its oversized frame, allowing it to maintain comfortable temperature even in extreme conditions. The Gundams are tough, but they're not at all prepared for the raw amount of firepower we can bring to the table. Ton for Ton, our battlemechs can take and deal a lot more damage, and with our shorter size, we're able to make better use of cover."

"Our strategy is thus: Isolate and focus our firepower on each of the Gundams in turn. Our first target was going to be the unit designated as 04."
A black and white machine was projected onto the table, the image captured from some battle camera. It was wielding a pair of giant hook swords and seemed to be accompanied by a band of brown mechs of a type yet unidentified. "It operates in the equatorial deserts, and has command of its own company of local mechs."

"You said 'Was', Lieutenant." Said one of the Aerospace pilots, a woman with a brown bob cut clad in a green flight suit. This was Irma "Radish" Shin, formerly of the Republic of the Sphere and operator of the unit's Corsair fighter. "I take it the situation has changed?"

"Si, Irma." Cortes replied. "We just received new information from Oz. Several hours ago, Units 1 and 2 razed a base in the Northern Hemisphere, near the Prime Meridian. Romefeller has demanded we redeploy to track them down. That is where we are heading."

"It's as the Commander has said. Romefeller wants immediate retaliation for this strike, and since it is the most recent Gundam attack, it is our warmest lead." He manipulated the holoprojector and provided floating images of their new targets, models cobbled together from numerous camera recordings and images.

"Unit 1 is a Land Air Mech. It is equipped with about 4 Machine Guns in the shoulders and head,  a 'laser sword' as the commander calls them, and a high power energy weapon of a design we estimate on part with a PPC. Said weapon seems to have a three round limit. We have a significant amount of data on him, as he was briefly captured by planetary militia forces." The holoprojector started showing images of a brown haired teenager with narrow blue eyes and sharp features. "Apparently, his name is Heero. Oz claims they're looking more into this. Details recovered from his brief capture reveal some odd facts. His brainwaves did not register on their machines, and after gunshot wounds and a fall of over three stories he was back in action only days later. A normal man would be dead. Taking all this into account, we suspect we're dealing with some sort of genetic engineering."

"What, like a Clanner?" Asked the unit's other Aerospace jock, a green haired man in a white and red flight suit. This was Scott "Mossy" Band, Rondel pilot from the Federated Suns.

"We believe so." Cyrano said. " Its a known fact that test tube children are common enough in the space stations orbiting this world, the so-called "Colonies". Its not outside the realm of possibility that someone might have decided to take it a step further."

"Damn it." Mossy groused. "I'm so sick of dealing with 'super' soldiers. If it isn't the damn Clans its some other wack job geneticist."

"Maybe we can challenge him to a batchall too." Prince quipped.

"You laugh." Cortes said. "But one of our targets stepped out of their mech to swordfight an Oz Commander. As for Unit 1 and its pilot...we have no benchmarks how powerful that energy weapon is. Avoid it at all costs. Bring up Unit 2, Cyrano."

The images focused on the black and white, scythe wielding machine, and the assembled pilots looked at it with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"It looks like something out of the Solaris Gladiator Games." Remarked the dark blue haired mechwarrior sitting next to Prince. This was the Locust pilot for the team, Jeanne "Silver" Sterling. She was a Galatea born mech jock, and among the younger members of the team.

"Si, it is....a look." Cortes agreed. He took a drink of water from a bottle and then continued. "It has an even better stealth system than the other Gundams. Like the Unit 1, it has a mix of heavy and light Machine Guns. But that is where the similarities end. It is very fast, and has that bizarre laser scythe. It also seems able to attack with its shield, and fire it into opponents. It is very melee focused, so if we can catch it in our gun sights, we can obliterate it. However, that is a significant If. And that is why we have had Señor Kai modify your Locust, Silver."

"Yeah, I saw that. He stripped out all my lasers." She scowled. "What am I supposed to do, kick this guy in the shins and hope he explodes?"

"Not all your lasers." Cyrano corrected. "To compensate for the hardware we needed to remove, we equipped you with a pair of small pulse lasers. The more important thing is that you're now carrying a laser AMS and a Beagle Active Probe. Your speed and armor are the same, but now, hopefully, we have a better chance at locating these Gundams. The Probe will counter whatever ECM or active camo the Gundams are currently employing, and the AMS should protect against missile attacks."

"What missiles?" asked Irma.

"Unit 3 has a significant number of SRMs and LRMs. We do not expect to deal with that one on this operation, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared." Cyrano answered. "Our plan is to start collecting information from the battle site and then expand our search patterns from there. Shin, Band, you two will perform regular sweeps. Your job is spotting and ground support. If you encounter the enemy LAM, you are free to engage. Silver, Prince, you two will be tasked with ground recon. Once our targets are located, the Commander and I will deploy from the Hathor to also engage. At which point, our combined forces will overwhelm and destroy the Gundams. Its a very basic strategy, heavily reliant on actually being able to locate and keep our opponents engaged long enough to deploy our full force. But given everything we know about our opponents, it is our best option. If there are no questions, I recommend getting sim time in or resting, because we will be very busy over the next few days."

Commander Hannibal Cortes, clad in casual streetwear, stood on a viewpoint looking out at the bay where the Oz base once stood. The fires had been put out, and the wreckage was still being cleared. His men were now combing the area and perusing the security data that remained, what of it Oz allowed. Unsurprisingly, not everyone in Oz enjoyed outsiders looking in, even if Oz's masters were paying them to do so. Rather than deal with Oz, Cortes contacted Romefeller directly, and asked for a higher level of clearance, and the man assigned to oversee their activities, an Inspector Acht, had insisted on a public meeting in neutral ground.

From where Cortes stood, it was clear to anyone that the Harbor's military base had been nearly flattened, but Oz was making sure to write the thing off as a negligent chemical explosion on the part of some civilian contractor. A convincing enough story for the masses, but a curious one if a fellow was paying attention. Cortes turned his back to the harbor and leaned against some railing. From a pocket of his trenchcoat, he drew a cigarette, which he put to his lips. As he checked himself for a match, he noticed there were a number of youths in uniforms moving too and fro, some of them glancing in his direction with curiosity. There must have been a private school nearby.

A stray shell or missile would have leveled this place. Cortes thought to himself as he lit his cigarette. And I'm not sure that thought crossed the mind of Oz or the Gundam Pilots. He took a drag on his smoke and started walking along the railing, moving away from the school kids moving between their classes. He paused as a car pulled up on a nearby street, a limousine. Half expecting the man he was supposed to meet, Cortes paused to see who emerged. A blonde girl was let out, notably not wearing the local school dress, and she immediately began making her way towards the other kids. Cortes frowned and moved on. Definitely not the man he was looking for.

Having made his way further down the railed walkway, Cortes dropped his spent smoke on the ground, crushing the butt under the sole of his boot. When he looked up, a short, somewhat squat man in a top hat, spectacles, and frock coat was approaching from the opposite direction. He was escorted by a pair of suited thugs in shades, obvious bodyguards, and with a tight lipped frown, Cortes advanced towards them.

"Lovely weather today, wouldn't you agree?" Asked the man in a gravely voice.

"Señor Acht, correct?" Cortes asked, cutting to the chase.

"Indeed I am, Commander. I see we are just going to dispense with the pleasantries." The man said, a wide grin parting his face. "Romefeller is quite eager to have your group do something about our little terrorist problem. Tell me, what plans do you have to deal with this threat?"

"With all due respect, Señor, I'm not sure that should be discussed in public. I assure you, however, that we have a strategy for exterminating your pests. We do require more cooperation from your military branch. We have only been here for a day and already it feels like we are being hamstrung."

"Oh?"

"We wanted to investigate the site for clues, but were turned away by Oz. We wanted access to the security feeds. Again, denied by Oz. And my man, Cyrano, he is very sharp. He tells me Oz Agents have been poking around our DropShip and shadowing our people. We are here to do a job, Señor. A job your Romefeller is paying very well to do. It seems self defeating to keep us from doing that job."

"It is a very dangerous time for our organization, Commander. The world is transitioning from a unified nation to an Oz Hegemony. We have to be very cautious. And a group such as yours, as equipped as it is, should be viewed with suspicion." The man's attention drifted noticably to something behind and to Cortes' right, a frown of confusion slipping onto his face for a moment before his attention returned to the mercenary. "But you do have a point. There is a surprising...resistance to your group in the ranks of Oz's military branch. Internal politics I'm afraid, and something I'm intending to deal with. But until then, you will just have to 'soldier on', as it were. Bring Romefeller a Gundam, and you'll have a lot more doors open for your group."

"Of course." Cortes muttered. "Why are we even meeting if you can promise me nothing?"

"I wanted to meet you personally, Commander. I wanted to take stock of you. You simply can not get the same reading of a fellow over some video screen. And since I happened to have business here today, I thought it most convenient." The man's attention shifted again, and this time Cortes gave a half turn to see what the man was looking at. The Blonde girl from before was being helped back into her limo by its driver. Cortes frowned again.

"A little young for you, Señor." Cortes said, turning back to Acht.

The squat man gave the Mercenary an annoyed look. "Your sense of humor is deplorable, sir. No, that Girl I recognize. That's the daughter of the late Vice Foreign Minister Darlian. But its very odd that she would be here of all places. Especially when her family home is on the other side of the world."

"Maybe her family is visiting?" Cortes said, drawing and lighting another cigarette. "More of those internal politics you people are dealing with."

"I assure you, we are currently not employing former members of the Alliance cabinet." Acht told Cortes. The man pursed his lips in thought, then gave a slight tip of his hat to the mercenary. "I must return to my own business. We will be in touch, Commander. I can not stress this enough, however: Results will open many doors in Oz." With that, the short man and his two bodyguards departed the way they came.

Cortes slowly puffed on his cigarette until they were out of earshot, and then muttered an annoyed curse in Spanish. He had wasted time coming out here to deal with this Acht, and he had nothing to show for it. No new info, no better clearance with the more Obstinate members of Oz, nothing. He turned about and started heading back towards his own ride. Glancing back towards where he saw that Darlian girl's limo, he caught sight of a pair of the local school boys lingering about. One of them had an incredibly large amount of hair braided into a pony tail, and the other...

No. No it can't be that easy.

"Oi, chico." Cortes said to the young man scowling at him, holding the same expression Cortes had seen in the briefing material he had gone over less than 24 hours before. "Don't you and your girlfriend have class to get to?"

"Hey pal!" The long haired one immediately protested. "I ain't a girl! I'm a man!"

Cortes wasn't paying attention. He was confirming again that the one glaring at him with a cold, analytical gaze, matched everything he had on the Pilot of Gundam Unit 1. Moments ticked by as the two stared at each other. And then, the boy blinked. Cortes caught a faint glint of realization. Perhaps he figured out that Cortes recognized him. Or maybe he recognized Cortes was more dangerous than he appeared. Regardless of why, now the tension was almost visible.

Apparently able to sense it, Braid boy grabbed the target's shoulder and gestured backwards with a thumb. "Hey man, lets get out of here. This guy's giving me some weird vibes."

Taking the out, the Target broke eye contact and moved off, occasionally glancing back over his shoulder as the two of them headed off back towards their campus.

Once they were on the move, Cortes moved himself back towards his vehicle, a grin creeping onto his face. If Acht wanted results, he wasn't going to have long to wait. The hunt was on.