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Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

The approach to the Feddie position felt strange to Milo; not long ago, he and the other pilots and drivers of the 261st had been fighting for their lives against these people. To approach their position in the open - with an invitation, no less - felt wrong somehow, and certainly tickled his danger sense.
As if sensing this, Zel nosed up at his chin once more, as if to reassure her surrogate parent that everything would be alright. Milo smiled and tickled the little fennec kit with his index finger, upon which she gnawed playfully, squeaking her happiness.
If only humans were so easy to reassure. He thought to himself.
"Confirmed, Laytn; one stock GM, one GM Cannon and a Guntank, probably the mass production type we started seeing in Southeast Asia."
Milo and Laytn hovered to within a few meters of the three giant Federation Mobile Suits, which Milo looked up at in mixed awe and apprehension. The only other time he had seen a GM so close was either from behind the dubious safety of his Zaku's armor, or on foot when his unit encountered wrecked Federation Suits in the desert.
Milo's Wappa slowed, the whine of the hover fans receding as the little craft settled on the sand. Un-slinging Zel's carrying harness, Milo hung the sling up on the pintle of his Wappa, and pointed at the little animal. Zel squeaked, and then plopped down the way she had been trained, tail wagging behind her.
Smiling briefly in satisfaction, the young supply officer dismounted his hover bike with considerably more coordination than would normally be expected of a man his size and build. Joining Laytn, he came to attention, craning his neck up to look at the towering GM, which appeared to be the Suit of the unit commander.
Stiffly, he saluted.
To Milo's surprise, the giant Suit moved. Ponderously, the GM's arm moved, rising to salute back at the two humans. When the hand was fully raised, the machine's sensor faceplate pulsed green, accompanied by a distinctive hum Milo thought similar to a Zaku's mono-eye flash.
The young officer resisted the urge to step back when the Suit began to kneel, its arm sweeping down to hold its hand palm up in front of its cockpit hatch. When the Suit was down on one knee, the hatch swished open, and a figure in a khaki Federation uniform stepped out onto the hand, which lowered him down.
He saluted in return.
Milo lowered his own hand, and stiffened once more.
"Lieutenant Milo Tyranne, Republic of Zeon Earth Attack Force, sir! At this time, I would like to declare that I have been authorized to speak for all personnel of my unit."
He cleared his throat, and tried to blank his mind. The only way he would be able to do this, Milo knew, would be to just get it out before he could think too hard about what he was saying.
"On behalf of the 261st Mobile Supply Corps, and in accordance with the standing orders of Prime Minister Darcia Bakharov, I offer our unconditional surrender to the Earth Federation Ground Forces."
Milo breathed a long sigh of relief.
There. It's out. No taking that back now.
On the hand of his Mobile Suit, the Federation officer saluted.
"Corporal Flint Hobten, Earth Federation Ground Forces. Similarly, I have been authorized by my commanding officer to accept your surrender, in accordance with the Treaty of Granada."
Milo was briefly surprised when the Federation soldier held out a hand, a slightly tense but still friendly smile on his face. Hesitantly, Milo reached out and took it.
The handshake melted the tension.
"So... I take it the 261st isn't just two people, is it?"

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

Milo swiveled his head around to look at what Laytn had seen, watching the bright green flare drifting on a lazy parabolic arc.
"I see it! One moment..."
The young supply officer slowed his small vehicle, fishing a pair of powerful Neiss-Zikon binoculars out of his pocket. Bringing them up to his eyes, he scanned the horizon in the general direction of the flare. While he did this, Zel continued to nose at his chin insistently, tail thumping against his chest in the vulpine approximation of "I told you so".
Milo brought down the field glasses and couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.
"They're out there alright; heat shimmer is making visibility suck, but I count... three Mobile Suits, on a rise to the northwest. Two human types and a tank, possibly with a support truck."
He made a hand signal, and wheeled around his machine in the direction of the Federal position.
"They're not making any effort to hide themselves, and obviously that flare was to get our attention. We should go over and say hello, don't you think?"

Meanwhile, at the Federal position:

Corporal Hobten tapped the zoom controls on his GM, the view of his main monitor taking in the two Wappa hover-bikes skimming toward them. At his range and magnification, he could see a Zeon soldier riding the lead machine waving at him.
He smiled.
"Alright, that's got their attention; they're coming this way, and they look friendly enough. Safeties on! Let's get set to welcome them."
Nearby, the team's GM Cannon and the Guntank retracted their weapons to storage positions, and Flint himself latched the Beam Spray Gun he carried to his Suit's skirt armor. Everything looked like it would go by routine; more than likely, these three were part of a larger force, and after formalities and pleasantries were exchanged by the two small emissary teams, Flint and his ground would likely be in charge of leading the larger group to the Federation encampment at the Jaghbub Oasis.
I do wonder how Colonel Renfield will take that.

Meanwhile, at the Jaghbub Oasis:

"Colonel, this is far enough."
In his command tent, Colonel Dennet Renfield coolly stared down the muzzle of a service pistol, his expression as unconcerned as if someone had been pointing a water gun at him.
"You would kill me over some Zekes, would you?"
Dennet regarded the young man; he was one of his aids, one of the young soldiers who had risen through the ranks far too quickly during the war. He stood, visibly trembling, aiming sidearm at his superior, a look of mixed horror and resolve etched on his features.
"For god's sake, Colonel! The war is over! The enemy has surrendered! These people wish us no harm!
The young man shook his head.
"I don't care what it costs me, sir, but I won't let you do this! This... this is insane, sir!"
Colonel Renfield's expression hardened.
"Insane, is it?!"
The officer rose to his feet, causing the aid to take a step back.
"The only thing that's insane, Corporal, is that our government has decided that the war is won, when it has only just started! The Earth is still infested with spacenoids, who defile its soil and, at best, are only pretending to lay down their arms so that they can stab us in the back later!"
The aid stared at his commanding officer, aghast.
"Sir, you're talking about civil-"
"Collaborators, Corporal!! They supported the Zeon during the war, and they'll share their fate!"
Renfield advanced on the young man, but came up short when the aid reflexively raised his weapon to point at the tip of his nose.
"I t-told you, sir." The aid said, his voice quavering. "I won't let you do this...!"
Renfield gritted his teeth.
"Is that a fact."
The aid never had a chance.
Renfield was a blur of motion, ducking easily under the upraised pistol before the man holding it could register what was going on. With a flick, he withdrew an antique stiletto from a belt holster...
The gun fell from the young man's hand, clattering to the floor, before he sagged, hand raising to clutch at the oozing hole in his chest. The aid's khaki uniform stained red, and he was dead before he even hit the ground.
Renfield looked down at the corps with distaste.
The tent door fluttered, and a uniformed guard entered, saluting the Colonel smartly. If he noticed the dead body, he did not show it.
"Sir, would like to report that we're almost ready. Artillery is already sighted in."
Dennet nodded, going back to his table and wiping his bloody knife off with a rag.
"Excellent. Tell the gun crews to stand ready, and..."
He nudged the dead aid with his foot.
"Get this thing out of my sight, will you?"

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

And then there were two...
Man, that sucks! Sorry to see you go...

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

No bad, not bad; had to bug-bomb the apartment to get rid of some fleas, but yeah.
Sorry it took so long to reply; I got vietmyke's reply while I was at work.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

((So apparently, Wappas are a thing now.))

Milo flashed a thumbs-up to the other two pilots, dipping the throttle with his foot and centering the control stick as the little hover-bike lifted amidst a satisfying billow of sand. Rising to the altitude of the other two vehicles, he circled his hand in the air before pointing to the two positions he wished his wing-men to take.
"Alright, folks, keep an eye out; I may have a lot of equipment on this heap but you know how much that usually counts for out here!

Within a few minutes, the formation was skimming away across the desert sands, following the line of the road as it wound down the rocky slope of the depression. As he flew, Milo kept one eye on the sonar readout, the other one scanning the terrain as he looked for anything out of the ordinary.
"Well this might be a big fat waste of time." The young supply officer admitted sullenly over the laser comm. "Either of you spotting anything?"
In her carrying sling, Zel, Milo's fennec fox, chirped and nosed up at Milo's chin, her way of getting his attention. With a sigh, he reached down to scratch behind one of her ears, but the little creature merely strained and nosed again, wriggling against him for more attention.
Milo glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, what is it you? You see something?"

Not far away:

"Well I'll be damned!"
Flint unclasped his hands from behind his head, sitting up in his pilot's chair at a TBS radio transmission over his comm unit. It had come from Private Felsh, the team Guntank's commander.
The young commander of the 12th MS Team, Corporal Flint Hobten, clasped a hand on his headset.
"What is it, Private?"
Flint glanced at his side-view monitor, watching as the optical tracking package on the nearby Guntank swiveled on its mount, one of the huge camera lenses focusing in one something a little ways off.
"Movement, sir! Three small vehicles, about three klicks east; thermal interference is blurring the image, but I'd bet anything on Wappas from their speed. Looks like we found one, sir."
Flint raised his eyebrows, bringing up the grainy video feed transmitted by the Guntank. Indeed, three high-speed smudges appeared, the heat rippling from the sandy ground making identification difficult. In the upper right corner of the feed, however, was a CG enhancement, and the outline of three Wappa hover bikes could be seen.
He grinned.
"Man, and I was hoping for some boredom..." Flint replied, tapping the controls to bring his RGM-79 GM out of standby mode. "Dennis! Put up a signal flare, would you? We'll see if we can't get their attention. Stay sharp, though, I don't want anyone to get hurt if it turns out they're holdouts."
Over the past three days, Zeon units all over the Earth had surrendered en masse, obeying their government's order to surrender. For the most part, Federation troops had no trouble dealing with these groups, and things went smoothly.
Every so often, however, this turned out not to be the case.
Especially in remote areas, certain Zeon forces had refused orders, often on the grounds that they had not come from a member of the Zabi family, the regime many die-hard Zeon nationalist had sworn their loyalty to. Thus, they fought on, despite no hope of resupply or reinforcement.
Flint had heard of an HLV base in Australia which had only recently been overrun by Federation forces, and rumor had it that the holdouts based there had been preparing to release a deadly bio-weapon as a final act of retaliation. Many similar stories had filtered in over the past few days.
Even more troubling to Flint, though, were the Zeon units nobody could account for; obviously they had gone into hiding for some reason, which seemed to suggest at least a few of them had a plan...
He was shaken from his thoughts when, overhead, a bright green signal flare detonated.
Hopefully, these three would be reasonable.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

Sucks to lose you... sorry RL isn't cooperating. Wish you the best.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

Posted! Also, enjoy the cute video linked therein.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

Milo found one of the Zebu 8x8 supply trucks parked nearby, smiling when the truck's commander and his co-driver saluted him. He saluted back, proud of the men still for the moment under his command. They had weathered a lot, but at least for him, they seemed to keep their spirits high.
"What can we do for you, boss?"
The lightly built supply officer hopped up into the bed of the vehicle, grateful for the shade provided by a canvas cap overhead.
"Hello! Here to pick up a few things. Me and some of the pilots are taking four Wappas to scout ahead; I'll need water, some high-powered binos, a pack of laser relays and a field sonar system. Oh, and maybe a metal detector or two, just a hunch."
The truck crew saluted, and set to work getting together the requested items. They were piled onto an electric runabout which the 261st had somehow acquired during the war; a small vehicle seating 2 people and a small amount of cargo, it had a range of perhaps 80 kilometers, and a top speed of about 60, ideal for use in space colonies and large lunar cities, though woefully inadequate for the speeds and distances required for travel on Earth. Though a civilian model, it was light and compact, and was thus also carried aboard Zeon warships for use by crew-members going "ashore". How it had ended up on Earth was anyone's guess; Milo suspected it was some big-shot officer's staff car which had either been discarded as impractical or "borrowed". Whatever its origins, the 261st had used it as a "hack" for ferrying around cargo and personnel, carrying it aboard a supply truck when not in use, as it took up little space. At some point, someone had even seen fit to paint it in splinter pattern desert camouflage rather than its original lime green, and give it thick, knobby off-road tires and suspension.
The little vehicle sagged slightly under the weight of the supplies heaped onto it, and Milo waved to the truck crew as he drove it back toward the Wappas. On his way, he stopped by the Samson he had been riding in earlier, seeing Sergeant Delfin out on the fender, a little tan ball of fluff circling around his feet, squeaking in happiness.
Milo pulled to a stop, grinning.
"I take it she woke up?"
The little fluff-ball stopped, pausing to scratch one of its broad ears with a hind foot and nearly falling over in doing so. Hearing Milo's voice, it perked up, and quickly padded over to the edge of the fender, squeaking.
It leaped, and Milo caught it in his outstretched hands.
Delfin grinned down from the truck.
"Damnedest little pet you have there, sir." The huge Sergeant said with a grin. "When she's not asleep, or falling asleep, she just runs around! Figured I'd let her outside for some exercise before we had to start rolling again; plus I'd rather her not make a mess in the cab when we can't stop!"
Milo chuckled, tickling at the little creature, which shrieked and nibbled at his fingers playfully.
Zel, Milo's pet, was a baby fennec fox, part of a litter the 261st had taken on as mascots when their mother had given birth to them in a den under the feet of Milo's Zaku. Sadly, only a few of the curious, noisy and terminally adorable little creatures had survived, but Zel had bonded to Milo nearly as strongly as she had her own mother, and the young supply officer had enjoyed the company of the little fluff-ball, a much needed distraction from the reality of his present situation.
"At least she's easy to clean up after." Milo replied, smiling down at his pet, who was now curling up in his lap, head up and ears swiveling as she surveyed her new surroundings. "Anyway, me and some of the pilots are going to scout ahead on Wappas; say, can you toss me the harness?"
Delfin gave a thumbs up, retreating into the cab and returning with something that looked like a baby's chest sling, tossing it down to Milo. Catching it, the supply officer whistled to Zel, who perked and chirped as she was picked up and loaded into the sling and strapped onto Milo. She nosed up at his chin and then peered out, tail wagging excitedly.
Milo grinned.
"I figure she might like it. See you around!"
Delfin waved as he took off in the runabout, shaking his head.

Milo returned to the Wappas, hopping out of the little vehicle he had arrived in and loading supplies and equipment onto the hover bikes. Everyone had a cantine, but Milo made sure each bike had adequate water and provisions for a full two days; it would not do to have a pilot's vehicle break down and have them stranded without supplies for however long it took for rescue to arrive. They would not be going far, but better to have and not need, as the saying went.
Onto his own bike, Milo strapped a bulky piece of electronic equipment, mounting a rotating parabolic dish to the top of the machine's pintle mount, connected to a backpack-sized metal box by a thick cable. He tested the device and nodded at the image which flashed up on the bike's dashboard-mounted video screen.
The field sonar pack worked something like radar, though it had a much shorter range. It wasn't much, but it could provide an early warning that the mark 1 eyeball might miss.
Also on his bike, Milo mounted another equipment pack, this one looking similar to the backpack-mounted space mine dispensers used by some Mobile Suits. Instead of explosives, however, the dispenser deployed small helicopter-like hovering robots, programmed to keep an altitude above the terrain and hold position against the wind. Equipped with laser detectors and reflectors, they would be deployed every few kilometers behind the Wappas, ensuring a direct laser communication line between the patrol and the convoy.
As he worked, Milo waved to Laytn and McKnight, hopping onto his machine and performing a quick pre-flight check. Everything looked good; slipping on the flight helmet, he clicked on the radio in order to be heard over the whining turbines.
All this done, he fished a tiny pair of motorcycle-rider's goggle out of his pocket, securing them on Zel, who shook her head and looked around, blinking through the lenses.
"Everyone ready to go?"

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

I vote in favor of this. @vietmyke, your turn I guess.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 261st

Aye to that.