Cannons fired at the ships opposing them and missiles were loosed and sent towards their foes. The strike craft of both sides (including the rather ramshackle ones made by the FGR and the UGN remnants) began to dogfight as explosions and energy beams turned the battleground into a light show. Ship to ship combat raged in various ways and manners, all the while the supposedly unarmed diplomatic ship crept closer to its intended target. Its crew took full advantage of the ensuing chaos to crawl towards the flagship of the Arcadian fleet, slowly zigging and zagging between ships they could call friend and foe.

The dangerous and destructive cargo aboard the suicide ship was just waiting to go off like the fourth of July, releasing an explosion big enough to, at the very least, severely damage if not cripple the Adeptus Deorum itself, not to mention the ships surrounding it. If they could just get a little closer, they could-.

The bridge crew noticed a shadow fall over their seats. They had been so locked on the sensors and on maneuvering their ship that they failed to notice what was directly in front of them. They looked up and saw the silhouette of a large humanoid construct in front of them with a massive shotgun at the ready. The Mobile Suit Golem’s single red photoreceptor began to glow from within its armored head and the bridge crew could almost sense a twisted glee emanating from the circle of crimson light.

“Damn it! Push it no-!”

Before the former diplomat-turned-terrorist could finish barking his orders and before anyone inside the ship could respond, the Zaku III pulled the trigger on its pump-action shotgun and sent the entire bridge crew to an early grave. The cabin immediately vented all of its atmosphere into the void and those who survived the immediate destruction of the bridge were forced to contend with the hellish and nightmarish fate of dying from the icy-hot near vacuum of space.

To add insult to injury, a squad of Nemo IIs led by a Gundam Mark II in AEUG colors boarded the ship through the massive gaping hole where the viewports in the bridge used to be and began to sweep the interior of the ship for any signs of resistance. What they found was not what they had expected. What they thought they would find were a few elite kill-teams ready to board the Adeptus Deorum and cause unknown amounts of mischief, what they got was a bomb of unspeakable levels of devastation. They had located the reason that the ‘diplomat’ wanted into the flagship of their Creator and Master, and it was a beast of a bomb at that.

What they found was a weapon tailor made to enact a total extermination of all life on a continent, if not a planet. This bomb, while compact, would be more than enough to destroy not only the Adeptus Deorum, but also a massive number of other ships in the fleet. They, and everyone else in the Arcadian armada, immediately realized how dangerous this package was and began to hatch a plan to get it as far away as possible before it could go off. This would be a trip that those who volunteered for it would not be coming back from. The bomb had to be set off, or else they could risk a remote detonation at an inopportune time.

“We will go.”

A group of MSGs bravely volunteered for the job. As the MSGs began to file into the mostly destroyed bridge of the ship and redirect it using what little control that they could gain over it, Arkhan gave a final goodbye to those who chose to make martyrs of themselves. From the exposed bridge, the mostly black-painted chassis of the MSGs contrasted heavily with the stark white bone decals that had been painted onto their bodies and the uncharacteristic blue photoreceptors of the mix of Titans, AEUG and Axis faction MSGs.

The Ghost Brigade, as they were called, were prepared to make one great sacrifice for the sake of their compatriots, and, once the ship was safely pointed in a different direction, sent the damaged craft directly into hyperspace. With a flash of light, the already damaged hyperdrive and structurally damaged ship rocketed off into the great unknown, never to be seen again.

…

“Where is the kaboom?!” yelled one of the Free Galaxy Resistance ship captains. “Where is the fleet-shattering kaboom?! It should have happened long before we arrived, but even still, where the fuck is it?!”

Ships that had been selected to mop up the crippled Arcadian fleet were going down left and right as the most decidedly not-crippled force before them unleashed all fury upon the FGR ships. Their strike craft had almost all been shot down, and the damnable space-borne mechs were using their dwindling defenses as an opportunity to ‘entertain themselves’ with the good people of the galaxy. These damn monsters! They were toying with them, playing around with their prey like feral felines!

Worse still, the monstrous Arcadian Galactic Commonwealth ships were pounding them into scrap metal! They had to retreat; there was no other way to give the Free Galaxy Resistance a chance for an eventual comeback aside from turning and running with their tails between their legs. Oh, the humiliation! They should have been the ones to emerge victorious, their heads held high and the shattered wreckage of the despotic Commonwealth laid before them, their beloved devil of a ruler left drifting in a sea of his own failure! But no, the fate they had been promised, the destiny they had been sure was theirs to claim had been snatched from them like candy taken from a baby.

“This may be a loss, but we will most certainly win the next time we fight! The next time we see you, you damn bastards, you will know fear and death at our righteous hands! All ships, retreat! Make random jumps if you have to, just get out of here and live to fight another day! We will survive and we will regain our lost strength, then we will crush the AGC like the pest it is!”

The FGR ships began to attempt to disengage and make a break for it, all while MSGs and MAGs hounded them from every angle. The predators had enjoyed toying with their food, but now it was time to finish the hunt. The FGR fleet sensed this change and immediately began to make their jumps to hyperspace, some even neglecting to allow the safeties to activate and blindly hurdling themselves into the randomness of a completely uncalculated hyperspace jump.

…

One by one, the FGR ships vanished either escaping into hyperspace or vanishing in a more explosive and deadly way as they were torn to shreds by the AGC forces. Soon enough, only the AGC ‘parade’ fleet remained around save for the FGR’s twisted wrecks and spiraling derelicts left over from the battle. Deciding that it would be best to pretend (at least, to the public) that this little incident never happened (a choice that was more geared towards public relations and preventing unnecessary fears than anything else) the AGC fleet, now a bit smaller after the loss of a few ships, took a more relaxed formation and continued on its way.