TANYA VON ZEHRTFELDT POV
The void of space, an infinite canvas of cold stars, was about to be scarred by fire.
But not yet.
Around the asteroid fortress of Solomon, Zeon's armada hung in disciplined formation—waiting, thrumming with caged potential. Dozens of Musai-class cruisers and support ships gleamed with final refits. Massive engines pulsed low, synchronized, waiting for the final go-code. This was not the vanguard's arrival. This was the calm before the fleet ignited into motion.
Tanya von Zehrtfeld stood inside the launch bay of the Great Degwin, clad in her pilot suit, arms crossed as she watched mechanics finish loading the last crates of spare ammo and coolant into her Zaku II's container pod. Her machine rested nearby on the magnetic lift rail—painted in standard dark green, unassuming, but laced with personal tweaks in internal software and maneuver tuning. She could feel the tension bleeding into every breath, every footstep on the deck plates.
Behind her, the command channel hummed with readiness reports from all over the fleet.
"Staging complete. Solomon Fleet now at 92% operational."
"Final orbit calculation locked. Federation forward detection remains blind."
"Vanguard units to full combat readiness. Launch window opens in five minutes."
Across her HUD, the designation flashed: Operation Loum // Phase One: Departure Burn
Tanya didn't flinch. This was war now—not just whispers or simulations or containment drills. This was the strike. The proof of Zeon's might. The retribution. The gambit.
But she couldn't shake the disquiet in her chest.
The war drums had been pounding since Operation British. The Earth Federation was still reeling, but not shattered. And now, Zeon's answer was to plunge a force of elite mobile suits and battleships into the heart of the Side 5 zone.
A decisive blow—Dozle's voice had thundered it across all frequencies earlier that morning. A blow meant to break their fleet, destroy their morale, and seize total initiative.
But to Tanya, it smelled like a trap waiting to spring.
We're the blade, she thought. But who's really guiding the hand?
Her comms buzzed—Mila's voice, as casual as ever, but beneath it ran the same edge of tension.
"Tri-Stars are preening again. They want full bragging rights for first confirmed kill."
Tanya cracked a faint smile. "Let them race. I care who finishes the battle, not who starts it."
Colt, her chief mechanic, climbed down from the Zaku's frame and gave her a grim thumbs-up.
"She's tuned tighter than a violin string, Commander. You say dance, she'll tango."
Tanya gave a curt nod and turned back to the central window where the stars loomed.
Just beyond this fortress, they would initiate the mass departure: a carefully timed synchronized burn from Solomon, propelling the assembled warfleet toward Loum's orbit. It was not an instant transit. It would take hours—long enough for last doubts, final thoughts, and sharpened plans.
And then he arrived.
The crimson Zaku docked just two bays over, gliding in like a predator entering the arena. Char Aznable. The infamous Red Comet. His machine gleamed red like blood under the docking lights. His presence didn't shout—it radiated. Quiet and total.
Their eyes met across the bay as he dismounted, helmet at his hip.
Just a nod.
He knows. He always knows something others don't.
Tanya's gut twisted, not with fear, but with recognition: he was a rogue equation. He played a different war than the one publicly declared.
She boarded her Zaku in silence. The cockpit closed around her, not like a coffin—but a throne of calculation. All variables counted. All margins reduced. Her team's feeds synced in one by one.
"Von Zehrtfeld Vanguard reporting green across the board," Mila said. "We launch on your mark."
Tanya opened the fleet-wide encrypted channel. Her voice was cold steel.
"GED Vanguard. Confirm burn sync with Fleet Command. All systems live. We fly."
Then Dozle's unmistakable roar cut through every frequency:
"ALL UNITS—OPERATION LOUM IS UNDERWAY. FOR ZEON!"
Engines ignited across the Solomon theater, lighting space with plumes of controlled fire. Battleships, carriers, and mobile suits roared from their cradles into the stars. The Zeon fleet moved—not arrived, but advanced.
It was no longer preparation.
It was war in motion.
---
LELOUCH VON ZEHRTFELDT POV
Back on Earth orbit, deep within Zum City's Supreme Military Command, the war room was lit not by hope, but by data.
The projected trajectory of Zeon's fleet blinked across the holomap, a burning arc toward Loum. Lelouch stood beside Garma Zabi, watching the departure orders cascade down through various fleet sectors.
"They've launched," Garma whispered. "Dozle's already in the wind."
Lelouch folded his arms. "And yet the true battle may still be here—beneath the surface of all this momentum."
He traced a finger along the projection paths—some deviated ever so slightly from the main fleet line. Not enough to trip alarms. But enough to mark them.
"Some ships are not flying with Dozle's line," Lelouch said, voice low. "They're angling for isolated Federation targets. Off-script."
Garma raised an eyebrow. "Operational initiative?"
"No," Lelouch said. "Sabotage hidden in sanctioned chaos."
Kycilia was moving her pawns.
And Tanya was out there—flying straight into it.
He opened his encrypted console. A pulse-link to Tanya's combat feed blinked green.
He typed:
"Watch your wings. Some units aren't under Dozle's command. And Char... he's not just here to fight."
The reply was swift:
"Understood. We're moving. I'll watch him. I'll watch them all."
Lelouch stared at the stars on the screen, distant and flickering.
They had begun their great gambit. Not just Zeon vs. Federation.
But truth vs. illusion.
And in that gamble, only one side would answer thunder with fire.
TANYA VON ZEHRTFELDT POV
The initial burn was smooth, a controlled acceleration that pressed Tanya into her seat. Her Zaku responded perfectly, every thruster firing in precise concert with her commands. Around her, the GED Vanguard moved in practiced formation, a spearhead for the larger fleet.
"GED-2 reporting clear flanks," Mila's voice cut through the comms. "No Federation presence yet."
Tanya scanned her sensors, cross-referencing them with fleet intelligence. Too quiet. They knew Zeon was coming. They had to.
"Increase vigilance," she ordered. "I want active pings every five seconds. Something feels wrong."
Her gut was screaming at her. They were flying into a void, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was a carefully orchestrated trap.
A sudden burst of static crackled across the comms, followed by a garbled transmission.
"…Federation…ambush…Sector…Gamma…"
The transmission cut off abruptly.
"What the hell was that?" Colt demanded.
"Likely a Federation patrol attempting to warn their fleet," Tanya replied grimly. "They're here. Just not where we expect them to be."
She adjusted her trajectory slightly, pulling the Vanguard a fraction ahead of the main fleet. It was a calculated risk – increased exposure for increased situational awareness.