Southeast Asia Theater
The jungle was a wall of green that swallowed men whole. Humidity clung to the skin like a second uniform, every breath heavy with rot and insect bite. For two weeks the GED squad had lived in this suffocating world, their Zaku cockpits hot and stinking, their bodies restless, discipline eroding. Yet Tanya von Zehrtfeld showed not a flicker of strain. To her, this was just another battlefield — a different hell, but still a hell she knew how to master.
She had drilled her pilots with the same clipped, merciless tone she had once used for recruits in another life. Patrols were to be slow and deliberate, no wasted movement, no chatter. The Federation remnants thrived on impatience, on the arrogance of Zeon troops who thought themselves untouchable. Tanya would not give them the satisfaction.
Still, the squad was restless. "Two weeks chasing ghosts," muttered Richter, the sharp-eyed sergeant who had once been her strongest flank. Sweat ran down his face as he adjusted his helmet. "At this point, I think the jungle itself is the enemy."
"It is," Tanya replied coldly. "And it is watching. Every careless step you take, every snapped twig — it tells our enemies exactly where we are." Her golden eyes fixed on him with the intensity of a blade's edge. "So stop whining and treat the jungle like the battlefield it is."
Mila, the youngest in the squad, raised her voice softly. "Captain, do you really think they're still here? Maybe the Federation already pulled back north." She wanted reassurance, but Tanya gave none.
"If you want to believe the enemy gave up," Tanya said, her tone dry, "then you're welcome to be the bait when they prove you wrong." Mila lowered her eyes, chastened, though Richter shot Tanya a look that was half resentment, half respect.
The ambush came two days later. It was swift, sudden, the crack of foliage exploding as two GM variants burst from the undergrowth, weapons spitting fire. A Zeon patrol crumpled in seconds, their Zakus caught off guard.
"Contact," Tanya snapped, her voice like a rifle shot. "GED squad, with me!" She drove her unit forward, sliding her Zaku low through the treeline rather than charging out into the open like the panicked patrol had. The jungle became her weapon.
"Cut their line of sight, use the undergrowth!" she barked over comms. Mila obeyed instantly, her Zaku weaving behind tree trunks. Richter hesitated, then followed, laying suppressive fire with short bursts, controlled, as Tanya had drilled.
The Federation pilots pressed, confident in their ambush, but Tanya was already reshaping the fight. Her Zaku's mono-eye glinted from the shadows as she circled behind, voice calm and cutting. "They expect a brawl. Give them ghosts."
One GED pilot, Franz, panicked and strayed too far into open ground. A GM's beam saber swung down, ready to gut him — but Tanya's Zaku surged forward with surgical precision. Her heat hawk split the GM's arm at the elbow, severing the weapon in a single brutal stroke. The enemy pilot had no time to scream before her machine's kick sent him crashing through the brush.
"Pay attention, Franz," Tanya said flatly, her voice cold despite the life she had just saved. "Your fear nearly killed you — and all of us. Fear is only useful when you use it to choke the enemy."
The surviving GM tried to pull back, but Tanya gave no quarter. She and Richter pinned it down with a ruthless crossfire, driving the machine deeper into the jungle until its thrusters snagged vines and it collapsed under their combined fire. The wreck burned quietly in the undergrowth, a muffled funeral pyre beneath the green canopy.
When the fight was over, silence returned to the jungle, broken only by the distant drone of insects. The GED squad gathered, shaken but alive. Mila's voice trembled as she spoke: "We should've lost more. If you hadn't…" She trailed off, unable to finish.
Tanya looked at them all, expression unreadable behind her helmet. "Remember this," she said evenly. "The Federation isn't beaten until its pilots are corpses. And the jungle will kill you faster than their rifles if you treat it like anything less than an enemy." Her gaze swept across them, lingering just long enough to burn the lesson in.
Even Richter, hardened as he was, shifted uneasily. Tanya's methods were terrifying in their cold precision, but they had kept them alive. The GED squad knew then that their captain wasn't just another officer — she was something else entirely, something the jungle itself seemed to bend around.
Tanya's squad had been patrolling the dense Southeast Asian jungle for nearly two weeks, the humidity sticking to their armor and the undergrowth making every step treacherous. Each movement required precision; one false step could trigger an ambush. Her GED unit followed silently, trusting her leadership without question. Even Mila, usually sharp and outspoken over comms, kept her eyes down, letting Tanya set the rhythm.
During a short break near a riverbank, Tanya accessed the latest intelligence reports. Between the usual chatter about scattered Federation cells, she picked up something curious: rumors of a secret Zeon development team operating deeper in the jungle. The intelligence was scarce—almost deliberately vague. Tanya's instincts, honed by three lifetimes of combat and experience, told her there was more than coincidence here. Something large, something potentially decisive, was humming somewhere beyond the canopy.
Mila noticed Tanya's focus. "Commander, you're reading it again," she said quietly. "What is it this time?"
Tanya's eyes never left the foliage. "There's a special Zeon team operating here. Official channels won't tell us much, but… I can feel it. They're working on something significant." Her voice was calm, but her mind raced with possibilities. The jungle had secrets, and this one might shift the balance of the region.
Their patrol pressed onward, scanning every clearing and ridge. The air seemed charged with tension, the silence punctuated only by distant birdcalls and the occasional rustle of leaves. Tanya moved like a predator, every command measured, every gesture deliberate. Colt grumbled about the heat and insects, but Tanya ignored it, her attention fixed on the faintest signs of movement ahead.
Suddenly, they came across a clearing where the undergrowth had been cleared methodically, leaving tracks and mechanical impressions. Tanya halted her squad. "Eyes open. This isn't Federation," she whispered. Her Zaku II's sensors flicked over the area, scanning for heat signatures. The readings confirmed her suspicion: this was a Zeon-controlled site.
From behind a cluster of palm trees, a squad of mobile suits emerged. Their markings were unfamiliar, their designs more experimental than anything Tanya had encountered in standard field operations. Tanya's pulse quickened, not with fear, but with controlled curiosity. This was the Flanagan Special Developmental Corps, rumored to be testing the Apsalus Project—massive hovering mobile armor designed to challenge even the most fortified positions.
Mila tapped her comm panel nervously. "Commander… they're pointing their weapons at us."
Tanya raised a hand, signaling calm. "Steady. They need to see who's in charge." Her voice carried the authority of a soldier who had survived countless battles, and it cut through the tension like a blade. The Flanagan pilots hesitated, eyes scanning Tanya's Zaku II.
Stepping forward slightly, Tanya identified herself. "I am Tanya von Zehrtfeld of Dozle Zabi's special forces. Stand down." Her tone left no room for argument. The leader of the Flanagan Special Developmental Corps tilted his head, weighing her words. Finally, with a gesture, he lowered his weapon and signaled his team to do the same.
Tanya's squad relaxed just slightly, though every pilot remained alert. Colt muttered, "Well, that was… polite."
Tanya ignored him, her gaze on the experimental mobile suits. "I take it this is the Apsalus Project?" she asked the Flanagan leader.
He nodded, his expression a mixture of pride and exhaustion. "Yes. We're testing something that could decisively change the war. It's… difficult, dangerous, but potentially brilliant."
Tanya's mind worked rapidly. She recognized the ambition and madness behind the project. This was no ordinary field deployment; it was the cutting edge of Zeon's experimental warfare. Her respect for the engineers and pilots grew, tempered by her understanding of battlefield pragmatism.
Mila whispered beside her. "Commander, are we… allowed to observe?"
Tanya's eyes narrowed. "We will observe. And we will learn. Anything we gain here is intelligence we can use—either to assist the Apsalus Project or to counter it, should it go wrong."
Colt, always the blunt one, asked, "You really think we can handle this without getting ourselves fried?"
Tanya's lips curved in a faint, cold smile. "I've handled worse. This isn't about recklessness. This is about precision, timing, and control. Remember your training. Every move matters."
The Flanagan Special Developmental Corps began to demonstrate their operational procedures. Heavy parts moved across the clearing, engineers adjusted sensors, and the massive Apsalus prototype emitted low hums as systems came online. Tanya's mind cataloged everything: efficiency, weaknesses, tactical potential. She noted how each pilot coordinated, how each maneuver could be exploited in the field.
Watching it all, Tanya thought of her three lifetimes—the countless wars she had endured, the battles she had led, the lives she had taken and saved. Each experience sharpened her, and in this jungle, facing the genius and madness of Zeon's hidden projects, she felt the familiar thrill of survival and strategy. Her heart was cold, but her mind was alive with purpose.
The prototype hovered in the clearing, its massive frame casting a shadow over the dense jungle floor. Tanya's Zaku II scanned every angle, her sensors picking up the hum of energy and the vibrations of the thrusters. She felt the weight of the moment—this wasn't a training exercise. This was a glimpse into Zeon's future of warfare.
The Flanagan pilots began a coordinated demonstration. One activated the Apsalus' main thrusters, lifting it fully off the ground with a mechanical groan. Tanya noted the rapid power consumption and subtle instability, cataloging it for tactical insight. "Impressive," she muttered under her breath, almost in awe. "But untested in real combat."
Mila's voice crackled in her headset. "Commander, the energy readings are off the charts. This thing could devastate an entire patrol if it were deployed."
Tanya's eyes narrowed, her mind already calculating. "Exactly. And that's why we need to understand it before it's fielded. Every flaw is an opportunity—or a danger." She adjusted her Zaku II's sensors, tracking the prototype's movements.
The Flanagan leader called out commands, and the Apsalus shifted forward with mechanical precision, firing a series of test volleys at mock targets. Tanya observed how the mobile armor's weapons arrays moved, how the recoil was managed, and how the pilot compensated for its enormous size. She noted that while powerful, the Apsalus' reaction speed was limited by mass—something a skilled pilot could exploit.
Colt muttered beside her. "It's massive… but it's slow compared to us. Right?"
Tanya's lips tightened. "Not slow. Calculated. Every movement has purpose. But yes, agility is its weakness. Watch carefully." She instructed her squad to maintain formation but to keep clear of the firing range. Each GED pilot mirrored her observation, taking mental notes and asking subtle questions about efficiency and coordination.
The demonstration intensified. The Apsalus executed a hover-strike, its thrusters kicking up a cloud of debris. Tanya's Zaku slid into a defensive posture, imagining how she could approach it in a real engagement. She considered ambush points, weak angles, and how terrain could amplify her squad's effectiveness against such a massive weapon.
Mila's voice came again, quieter this time. "Commander… even with its size, the pilot handles it with uncanny precision. Do you think… Newtype?"
Tanya didn't answer immediately. Her eyes followed the prototype as it pivoted midair with surprising smoothness. "Perhaps. Or exceptionally trained. Either way, this isn't a weapon to underestimate." She noted how the Flanagan pilots coordinated seamlessly with the support crew, their teamwork making the massive frame seem almost nimble.
The Flanagan leader initiated the next phase: simulated combat against mock GM units. Tanya's pulse quickened. The prototype fired, skimming past the smaller mobile suits with deadly efficiency, crushing obstacles and leaving scorched impressions in the jungle floor. Tanya silently tracked every vector, noting how her GED squad could use guerrilla tactics to negate such power.
Colt's voice was tense. "Commander… if that thing goes into real combat, a single unit could wipe out an entire squadron."
Tanya's gaze was unflinching. "Then we make sure it doesn't have the opportunity. Timing, terrain, precision. That's how a smaller, elite team wins against mass-produced power." Her thoughts drifted, as always, to the lessons from her three lifetimes: efficiency, ruthlessness, and understanding the psychology of fear on the battlefield.
Mila's fingers danced over the controls of her comm unit, scanning telemetry from the prototype. "All systems stable so far… but there are slight fluctuations in the left thruster output. Commander, do you see that?"
Tanya's eyes glinted. "Yes. That's our first exploitable weakness. Apsalus' power is immense, but even titans have joints. Note it, all of you. We observe, we analyze, we adapt."
The demonstration concluded, and the massive Apsalus hovered silently once more, engines humming like a restrained storm. Tanya's Zaku II rotated slightly as she took a final mental survey. "This is why we exist," she murmured to herself. "The elite, the prepared, the ones who turn insight into survival."
The Flanagan leader approached, bowing slightly. "Commander von Zehrtfeld, your squad's discipline is impressive. Observing your coordination has been… enlightening."
Tanya inclined her head. "I return the compliment. Your project shows brilliance, but every advantage can become a liability if you don't respect its limitations."
Mila exhaled beside her, half in awe, half in relief. "Commander… we actually survived watching that thing move."
Tanya's lips quirked into a cold, almost imperceptible smile. "We did more than survive. We learned. Remember this—knowledge is the deadliest weapon of all."
With that, Tanya signaled her GED squad to fall back. The Flanagan Corps returned to their testing positions, and the jungle seemed to settle into a tense silence, the echoes of immense power lingering in the humid air. Tanya's mind, however, remained sharp, cataloging every movement, every sound, every weakness. The mission here had changed: it was no longer just about patrolling. It was about understanding Zeon's future—and ensuring that when the time came, she and her squad would be ready to wield precision against overwhelming might.