February 28.
Weather: Clear.
After lying dormant for a while, the Archangel finally ignited its engines once more. At the same time, it activated its electronic radar and countermeasure systems, and the entire ship officially entered Level One combat readiness.
To the ZAFT Army, which had been monitoring and searching this desert region, this was basically like lighting a searchlight in the darkness.
Whether it was military satellites overhead or detection equipment mounted on land battleships, all of them clearly picked up these signals.
The Desert Tiger, who had been waiting for this moment, immediately gave the order and dispatched every mobile unit he could mobilize. He even brought his girlfriend along and personally took the field.
You must know, the greatest difference between the ZAFT Army and the Earth Alliance was that many of the latter's high-ranking generals and commanders had climbed the ranks through seniority. A large portion of them had never personally piloted an MA or MS in real combat.
But the former?
Every single one of them had started out as a lowly soldier.
Their piloting skills were generally quite high as well. They could even be called the elite among elites.
Whether it was Andrew Waltfield or Rau Le Creuset, who was hailed by P.L.A.N.T. as its strongest combatant, both had achieved astonishing records while piloting MS units as ordinary soldiers.
Watching countless Baku, tanks, and self-propelled artillery kick up clouds of dust across the scorching daytime desert, Yzak, seated in the cockpit of the Duel Gundam, could not help muttering, "Damn! They're actually ordering us to stay in the rear and provide long-range support? Are they looking down on us?"
"Shut up! Say less! We aren't familiar with Earth's gravity or desert terrain, so we can't perform as well as we do in space.