AN: Well here is something that I suppose came out of left field, I am despite my long time fandom of the Gundam franchise, specifically the UC or Universal Century timeline a complete novice with it comes to writing stories set it its universe. This is actually the first gundam narrative of mine that has ever gotten past the rough draft stage and while I do have several ongoing stories, this one in particular demanded I focus on it for a time given that is relatively short and placed into a stage of the One Year War that regrettably doesn't actually have all that much spot light focused on it.

That is where Dieter comes into the picture, I designed this character as a look into the mentality, the beliefs, politics and era of the people of Side Three. He is not by any definition a shining example of humanity nor is he overly compelling in his views, he's designed to be flawed, human, and even outright cruel in some of his views just like all people. I wanted the perspective of a individual soldier during the conflict between the Principality and Federation to basically add a depth that sadly was lacking from the original MSG and much of its supporting material, overall Dieter is a devoted soldier, a man who swore a oath to serve and follows through with that oath at the expense of everything else.

Anyway I am rambling I do hope you enjoy the first chapter of this little narrative I have thrown together.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mobile Suit Gundam or any of its respective characters, locations, and items, that said the original characters included in this story are of my own creation and therefore my respective intellectual property.

January 3rd 0079

0400 Hours

Task Force 13, Mobile Suit detachment stationed aboard Musai Light Cruiser: Zeal

"All hands, this is Captain Rainor speaking. We have a green light, I repeat, we have a green light. Lord Gihren has ordered the attack launched, war will be declared officially in fifteen minutes, be in position by then."

The locker room aboard the Musai was all but vacant. Not only was the vessel operating on but a skeleton crew to minimize the chance to intelligence leaks, the sheer personal trusted with the Zeal's misson had been numbered in the dozens. Just the needed crew, an officer that should be trusted to not ask questions and fulfill his duties, and a few technicians for the Mobile Suits and no one else was required. Thus one of the most commonly packed rooms aboard the vessel was eerily silent, nothing but a stark reminder that this was real.

He gave a final glance to the interior of his assigned locker. Despite only being aboard for little over two standard days he had tried to make the unit resemble the one he had held at the Zeonic Military Academy. Some small touch of home aboard this warship heading for their role to play in history. Fingers gripping the thin metal of the door before shutting it he let out a held breath, he was nervous. Hazel brown eyes found his name inscribed upon the plate.

Dieter Kreis

This was his duty, nothing more, nothing less.

The message of the captain repeated once more aloud over the intercom before the room was cast into silence. Well, it was time to get down to the hangar bay—it wouldn't do to keep the technicians waiting. With that short intercom announcement the solar system that had celebrated the beginning of yet a new year in the Universal Century merely days ago would now be at war for the first time in numerous decades.

The day he knew was coming for the last decade of his life finally reared itself, the day he had been training his body and mind to prepare for had finally dawned. The outbreak of war came not as a shock but a mere expectation. For years the Earth Federation had been thumbing its nose at Zeon, ever since his childhood in the late 0050s their presence had only become increasingly toxic within the colony. After the death of the Zeon Dum Deikun in 0068, relations between his home colony of Side Three and the Federation had only become increasingly strained. When Side Three had formally declared its independence in the aftermath of the death of Deikun and reestablished the Republic of Munzo into the Principality of Zeon the war became inevitable. He knew that for Zeon to truly be free, for its chains to the earth to forever be severed...this war was needed.

He dug into the olive drab twinged material of his flight suit as he pulled free a packet of cigarettes. While there was no prohibition against smoking it was something that was mildly discouraged within the military due to health concerns, but he was young, strong and able. Besides...he'd hate to see the man who could actually be calm today. Today Side Three and the Federation's history—no, perhaps even the history of humanity itself would be decided. Flipping the pack open and ripping away the foil protection for the little death sticks before gripping one and placing it between teeth he reached for the ancient flint lighter he always kept on his person.

Snapping the flint against the small cog wheel and producing a spark the lighter burned for a moment upon the tip of the cigarette only to be extinguished a few seconds later with another snap. Lord Gihren would declare war in literally minutes from now, while the colonies were sleeping and preparing for the new day, they would move into position to unleash the first wave of their invasion against the Earth Federation. He would be needed, the entirety of the military of Zeon would be needed, all those thousands back in the homeland being trained to fight at his side, all those who had graduated alongside him in the academy...all of them would do their duty to their leaders and nation.

That was why he would fight, to secure freedom for Side Three, to cast the Federation into the waste bin of history where it belonged, he would fight and kill. He recalled Deikun's frantic speeches and rants all across Munzo as he bellowed in the National Diet, would Zeon have had the resolve to do what his chosen successor Degwin now did? Or rather what his chosen successor's eldest son now did? Burning tobacco and the slight rush of nicotine filled his lungs for a moment before he exhaled in a cloud of ash twinged smoke. He was hardly even a man when the most powerful politician and philosopher in Side Three simply died, but even then he doubted it. No it was not Deikun but the Zabis he owed his loyalty to, the men and...woman of that family he supposed had worked tirelessly in their efforts to rebuild the crumbling but independent Republic of Munzo into the strong, and ordered Principality that stood today.

He was proud of his country, he loved his nation, and that was why he knew war would come. If they did not land the first blow, how long would it be before the Federation did? For the last decade the Principality and Federation had been caught in something of nationalized arms race. The Federation military now dwarfed anything in its prior history, if they failed to attack, failed to press their advantage then the Federation would simply continue to build up its crushing military might in its own prelude to war.

Their Mobile Suits would be their ace in the hole, the deciding factor, the reason why the opening volley of this war would be its last.

The halls of the cruiser were eerily silent despite their activity. They all knew what was about to happen, and what they were about to do. Did the crew or any of his other fellow pilots have any doubts, any private traitorous thoughts? Perhaps, but he knew no one would say a word. All the personnel he passed offered brisk salutes and waited for him to return the military gesture before returning to their duties with a grim dedication. The Federation would call Zeon monsters for this, they would poison the purity of the Spacenoid race's image with the rotting and decomposing bodies they would lay at the Feddies' feet today.

Entering into the hangar he was greeted by his fellow pilots. The mechanics and technicians were preforming minor last minute checks and alterations to the Zaku held within the bay. Task force 13 would be launching within five minutes, within another ten they'd be in position to strike at the Federally controlled Colonies of Side Two. Cigarette still oozing forth smoke he flicked the half smoked stick to the floor before grinding his boot beneath it, the sputtering ember was smothered effectively before he simply slid his boot off it. Glancing at the chrono in his left wrist gauntlet he knew that they were approaching their launch window, if they were to be in position they would have to hurry.

It was time to get to work.

"Lieutenant. Its time," one of the technicians said as he moved away from the now open cockpit canopy of the MS-05A. Of the assembled mobile suits only his Zaku was now one of the antiquated Generation one Zaku and that was for a specific reasoning: he had been given an assignment directly from the ship's captain who had in turn gotten it directly from the ministry of war itself under Lord Gihren.

"Right, let's go kick off a war," he replied humorlessly. His eyes drifted to the standard and not so standard armament of his mobile suit. In place of a standard drummed 120mm or 105mm machine gun, his mobile suit bore a weapon of a far more sinister intent. A twin-racked grenade launcher, however it was not any sort of standard missile type grenade, oh no the warhead contained something special within. The metallic casing of the 'explosive' bore numerous warning and other eye-catching sigils that would warn the crew of these weapons contents. He knew what this was. He knew what his mission was, but that didn't make it any easier to stand at the prospect of actually doing it.

In just minutes, he would be able to decide the fates of millions of lives, was that how the Zabis always felt? If so he never would envy Gihren or Dewgin. Even now he felt cold sweat unconsciously beginning to form on the back of his neck. He could stand down, refuse the mission, one of the other assigned pilots could do this task...but ultimately it would be done, even if he refused to do it himself, it would occur this day. Why would he place that burden upon any one of these men? He swore an oath to defend Side Three, to defend the homeland against all aggression and if by doing this...he could secure its freedom, its place in the stars…

So be it.

"God can forgive me in hell," he murmured mirthlessly, as he kicked off the deck on a straight path for his assigned Zaku and his destiny. Just how many pilots like him were facing prospects of launching weapons designed to efficiently and effectively cleanse entire populations of the Federally aligned colonies?

January 3rd 0079

0411 Hours

"Lt. Kreis awaiting clearance to launch," he grumbled out through the tight confines of his sealed and pressurized helmet, his fingers rapping absently on the control studs of his left joystick.

"Lieutenant, you are given clearance to launch. Glory to the Principality of Zeon." And with that he was unleashed. No longer was he going to be merely awaiting the chance to fight, no longer would he need to watch the clock tick down for the outbreak of war or when the mission would kick off. Now his life, his mission were beholden to no one but him and his skill...it was the way things should be.

"Glory to the Principality of Zeon!" he exclaimed over the comms as he rocketed out of the Musai's catapult system quickly joined merely a few breaths later by his squadmates. He didn't know these men very well but they were assigned to his team for this mission, so he would tolerate it. As long as they watched his back while he delivered the G3 weapon platform into position for the colony gassing then his mission would succeed. If it succeeded then the first day of this war may very well be a harbinger of the end of it.

Outside of the Musai one could truly see the gathering of forces that was taking place across the Sides as Zeon prepared to launch its first decisive strike of the war. Fourteen Cruisers including the Zeal made up their battle group, and according to the briefing reports of yesterday it would be only one of almost a hundred. The entire Zeonic navy it seemed was being deployed to support this first critical and brutal strike upon the unsuspecting Earth Federation, it was a good thing measures like this should be as lethal as possible to make any follow-up combat all the more easy.

"Lieutenant: Our orders are to hold position outside of the scanner range of the target until after the declaration of war has been sent," his squadmate to the left in the modern Zaku II spoke as their thrusters propelled them from the empty sea of space that was currently being occupied by task force 13. Throughout the borders of space no doubt there were numerous other battle groups sortieing just now, soldiers who would face the Federation in open war today rather than slinking into the underside of a 'civilian' colony and pacifying it, but those men could kill their targets without hesitation or remorse. He would be the one to bear the burden of what this act would mean in history.

After all did any historian ever question the legitimacy of a soldier killing another soldier? No but today, today this would ensure that Side Three would forever remain the true bastion of Spacenoid pride that it was. It would ensure that the Principality truly could and would forever be free of the oppression of the Earth Federation and its blinding incompetence and lust for profit. Besides what did those who stood outside of Side Three know of their plight? Only a single other Side had tried to secede from the Federation and even then they had required their assistance to accomplish it!

Why would or should he even care about these traitors, those who stood in the shadow of the Federation acting the part of the content slave? Zeon would never submit to the tyranny of the Federation and that was why this war was needed. Reaching their designated place for the launch of their mission was easy enough within the time limit even with only scarce minutes to do so before the declaration of war came down. Then it came to simply waiting. He felt the unconscious urge to dig once more into his flight suit for another cigarette but stifled the urge; he didn't like smoking inside his Zaku. Not to mention doing so would require him to have to unfasten his helmet, and undo the clasps for his gloves so he could actually hold the thing properly and by then it would be time to move.

No he didn't crave nicotine anyway that was just the nerves, he had done dozens of training missions and sorties since the academy but none of them were like this. This was an honest to God war beginning, soon uncountable lives could be lost, some of them even at his own hand.

...Perhaps even he would die.

He'd endure it though, even as he watched that clock clicking down towards the assigned destination, this would be done by the book. No official action before the declaration of war was undertook, no one would claim that Zeon had followed the conventions of war as they stood to the letter but...at the very least the Federation would know that Side Three was finally making its move, their war for independence would begin in under three minutes.

Breaking in on their silenced channel however was an update log from the Captain. "Attention boys, this is Rainor and we have a problem: roughly twenty seconds ago a Federation Salamis Class Cruiser entered our scope and is attempting to hail the Zeal and our other vessels. If it hasn't reported this already then they will soon. I don't need to remind you that for another two-and-a-half minutes the Federation and Principality are supposed to be theoretically at peace." The transmission cut out; he knew what the Captain wanted them to do.

"You heard the man, we need to push up the time table, push everything you got into primary thrusters. You're both in Zaku II's so you should be able to dance around me in this outdated hunk of garbage." He grumbled out over the direct suit to suit communication. Prepping his mobile suit and diverting energy from the power plant so he could again activate his thrusters, he eyed the cylinder of the colony floating in the immense vacuum and emptiness of space before him.

Of course everything went to hell just minutes before they were supposed to move into position to neutralize their assigned colony for the battle plan. It seemed that the Federation pickets at Side Two had actually managed to uncover the Zeon battle group that made up task force 13. They would need to move quickly then while conventional communications would be utterly jammed due to the dispersion of the Minovsky particles...they could still tight beam data back to the colony, but this was supposed to a surprise attack, they were supposed to catch the Federation completely unaware and now some feddie in a salamis thought he could ruin months of preparation, weeks of intense mock ups and drills went into perfecting this run, all for one damn fed ship to fuck the entire thing up.

Well as the age old idiom said: No plan survives contact with the enemy. They'd just have to make this work and fulfill their mission regardless of the premature detection.

Checking the status readouts on his grenade launcher he smiled a grim thin line. Soon the Federation fleet at Side Two wouldn't be talking to anyone.

January 3rd 0079

0415 Hours

Outer Border of Side 2, Colony 13

The armored fist of the mobile suit ripped into the interior of the colony, escaping onrushing gas and flames licking across his monitor. As the upper body of his suit pulled apart paneling and steel lattices that made up the 'ground' of the sealed O'Neill cylinder broke away and the fierce vacuum behind him only increased. Within the colony it was chaos: there may have been a few minutes of scattered reports of Principality ships in their vicinity but clearly no order of evacuation or emergency had been given. The numerous regularly clothed corpses that floated amidst the broken debris of his entryway attested to that.

Loose grit and sod from the flower beds and grass caught between the artificial gravity of the rotating cylinder the vacuum of space pinged and pitted against the Zaku as it pulled its self into the widening hole that separate the colony from the void. From within his suit he bore witness to the momentary surprise of his entrance, those who were awake earlier in the colony before its artifical sun rose. For what ever purpose they had been in his planned entryway, of course given that he had selected this portion of the colony due to the fact it possessed no structures or buildings on it or nearby likely contributed to its population at present.

Of course it would be a recreation area.

The mobile suit groaned as it forced its way upward through the twisted and broken metal. Forcing the generation one Zaku further into the gaping hole, and finally being able to pull the Mobile Suit into the cylinder of the colony let Dieter catch his breath even as he checked the various status readouts that the on board kept informing him of. The suit was undamaged and pressure had kept, he still had over two hours of breathable oxygen within his normal suit, his munitions had made it safely aboard the colony. Everything was coming up grand so far.

"Right on time," he murmured more to himself than his comrades who were busy making sure to keep his back free of Feddies who wanted to try their luck at being heroes. He doubted it would be needed though, so far despite their infilitration potentially being compromised by early detection there had been no military reaction from the Federation. No swarms of Saberfish fighter craft harassed them with missiles and machine guns, no Federation warships tried to engage them, ultimately it seemed that the Battle Group had drawn the Federation's attention in the vacuum. Which was good, fourteen Musai could hold their own against the paltry forces assigned for colony defense by the Federation long enough for their own mission to be completed so they could return to render aid.

Bringing up the grenade launcher and aiming it squarely at the counter rotating cylinder of the 'upper' portion of the colony he hesitated. Already he had killed close to a dozen people merely by breaching into what appeared to be some sort of park area within the colony, could he truly fire this weapon designed solely to kill these men and women? Their elderly and children, this colony would be wiped clean with but a simple pull on his triggering stud and he would have the deaths of tens of millions attached to his name. He'd be a monster to the Federation, perhaps even to Zeon, but he knew that coming into this operation, he knew his name would be sullied, he knew he'd be named as one of the butchers assigned to this task.

He was given this mission because he'd do it anyway. Unlike some of the other members of this soon-to-be notorious club of 'colony killers', he had been informed beforehand by Captain Rainor just what these projectiles contained with them. G3 was Zeon's newest superweapon, a blister agent of such potency that testing it actually caused muscle and tissue to sluice off of the effected parties. This colony would die in the space of minutes, Feddie and civilian alike would die, the gas didn't discriminate. But what were these people? Why would they content themselves to live side by side with the Federation? If anything if they were true spacenoids they'd be helping Zeon achieve its Independence, its true freedom from the Federation but no...they'd play the part of contented slaves and this is where that method of thinking led them.

It had come to it though, here it was the choice that he knew he'd face this day. Today he had been called upon to serve his nation, to serve his country as it fought for its freedom by weakening its enemies, by cleansing its supporters and forces alike from the stars. Would he do it? Could he do it? Would he serve the Zabi's in this capacity? Those who had fought relentlessly to prepare their country to be free, truly independent of the Earth. To achieve that you needed more than discipline, you needed more than strength.

You needed balance, Contolism, the Newtype philosophy of Side Three while not the state religion it more or less was in practice the most touted dogma of their homeland. Contolism spoke of acting in balance in one with the universe, by doing this he'd reduce the stain of the Federation's presence in space yes but beyond that he'd be cleansing away the filth that had festered in these colonies since the days of the founding of the Federation. Only those of Side Three knew the truth, knew that in order for humanity to truly once and for all to rise above its base and primal nature they needed the strong and direct hand of the superior race of Zeon to guide them.

He'd drown his consciousness later, he'd drink his liver black but now? Now he needed to do his duty.

He'd pull the trigger, he somewhere deep down within himself always knew he'd pull that trigger.

His duty clear in mind, he let out a held breath into the sealed helmet before placing his hand upon the joystick, his finger resting just precious centimeters away from the firing stud that would unleash the weapon of mass destruction upon the unsuspecting colony. It was just a job, his duty, there was no enjoyment in this prospect...He wasn't some unfeeling monster, but his people needed to win this war, and to win it at any cost. They couldn't match the Federation in numbers, in resources, they had the entire planet of Earth to draw upon to supply their military arm, victory in conventional war was a impossibility for Zeon even with their advanced technology and mobile suits.

"Firing one," he repeated for the onboard mission recorder if for nothing else than to add confirmation to the data that the technicians could gather from the onboard computer. Not to mention he needed to break the silence after that period of what seemed to be almost five minutes but according to his chrono hadn't even been thirty seconds.

Squeezing down upon the firing stud, he felt the propellant in the warhead burning as it rocketed off its launcher, the grenade sailed upwards dozens of miles into the colony before exploding in a flash of light. After that though, what had once been light faded into twinged green, the gas from the shell oozing downward across the colony covering dozens of square miles in seconds, more as an afterthought than anything else Dieter pressed down upon the stud again and with a light tap the second warhead broke free of its launcher as it fired into the arc on a similar arc as its sibling had just moments before. "Firing two." Already the ground was beginning to saturate and form clouds of the chemical weapon—soon everything living in this colony would be dead. Within his mobile suit he witnessed all the death, the chaos that was wrought by his own hand, he watched children break into gore and meat in their parents arms. He watched lovers embracing as they choked and vomited up their own vital fluids, he watched plants wither and cars crash into building as a city, a nation, died before him.

Within his sealed and pressurized suit, protected as he was by the thick armored plating of his Zaku he could witness the event in its epicenter without fear. The infamous mono eye camera focused on the scene before it, through the magnification he could make out individuals break down into little more then piles of bloody meat, it was quick and humane there would be no suffering-there wasn't time enough for it. The thick green fumes of the chemical weapon became thicker and thicker as they picked up on air currents and were transported across the multiple levels of the entire colony, unless if people were in pressurized space or normal suits they wouldn't survive this attack. And given that there had been scarce little warning before his own arrival...he doubted anyone had donned the very measures that would save their life.

Bodies broke down and cooked in the compound, festering and rancid as if they were decaying in the space of seconds rather than weeks and months as was natural. G3 was clearly just as powerful as he had been led to believe, this weapon was beyond anything he could comprehend, while nuclear warheads may be overly more powerful but they left nothing behind but radiation and destruction with G3? All you needed to do was watch as the world died around you, no dramatic mushroom clouds as atoms split, no cracking explosion that rent apart cities and turned people into ash.

With G3...people, everything, simply died.

In the space of a minute-and-a-half Colony 13 of Side Two was a graveyard.

Glancing at his chrono he confirmed the readout before triggering a burst transmission back to the Zeal.

"Mission accomplished." There was nothing more to be said than that, he had done what he had been ordered to do, he had done what he had been directed to do and he knew that by doing so he'd be called a monster by the Federation, a war criminal, a cold blooded killer of millions. He didn't care, he had sworn an oath to do what was ordered of him, his personal honor, his integrity, it meant nothing compared to maintaining that bond. His honor was loyalty first and foremost.

0417, 0417...in under two minutes he had neutralized Colony Thirteen, in under two minutes he had killed millions, in under two minutes he had gone from never having taken a life outside of a simulator to likely one of the most blood-soaked individuals in human history. Was this what those who dropped the atom bomb for the first time back in the middle ages back on Earth felt like? How did they justify the death to themselves?

"Returning to base," he issued, following up on his initial transmission. He still had a war to fight, just because this one battle was over didn't mean that the war was. He could only hope that the Federation would see sense and sue for peace before every colony they ruled became a mass grave.

AN: Well there we have the first chapter in what is planned to be a fairly short journey through the first weeks of the One Year War through the eyes of Dieter. I do hope you enjoyed it, and if you did please leave a review or maybe follow or favorite the story. I know that sadly our little Gundam fanfiction archive for UC is dreadfully small but I am happy I could contribute at least one entry into it.

I hope to see you all for chapter two in the next entry into 'The Soldier of Zeon.'

-Reborn Akatsuki