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Streaking across the crystal blue sky, eight Dopps and a Luggun skirted the top of the dense cloud cover on one of their first air patrols in over three years, their pilots eager to finally rack up some flight time after such a long grounding. Needless to say, every one of them were anxious to see how well the fighter craft would hold up after being mothballed for so long, but over the past few hours their fears were slowly alleviated one by one as not a single system malfunction reared its ugly nose. "I’m really surprised the technicians maintained these things so damn well! I mean, even the paintjob is perfect," remarked one of the Dopp pilots as he motioned to one of the nearby fighters flying in formation. "Agreed, though we should now worry about how well our skills have held up all this time," replied another pilot. "Seventeen confirmed kills back in the war and I still have the jitters having just now regained my wings." A chorus of affirmatives peppered the communications channels until the authoritative voice of the squadron leader cut through with some stern words. "I trust we haven’t forgotten SOP with comms, gentlemen." "No sir, we have not forgotten them. Maintaining radio silence," came the unanimous response from the other pilots. The leader shook his head slightly with a smirk and then looked down at his instrument panel to make sure his own craft was running smoothly before speaking into his microphone once more. "Hawkeye, Hawkeye, this is Adder leader, comm check over," transmitted the leader with a monotonous voice. A female voice broke the moment of silence and replied, "Adder leader, this is Hawkeye, comms seem good. And before you ask, your skies appear clear as well," Inside the lone Dish one of the radar officers blinked his eyes twice before looking intently at the nine dots that seemed to appear at the outer edges of his screen. With a hint of hesitation, he turned around to look at the the other radar officer and they both confirmed each other’s observations. "Captain, we’re tracking nine bogeys at the edges of our coverage and they don’t match up with any scheduled flights from our air force," reported the officer to the Medea’s CO. On the Deadly Poppies, its captain ordered the scrambling of the Jet Core Boosters and the Depp Rogs, certain that the unidentified aircraft were the patrols from Kimberlite. "Fox one, fox one, missiles away." Fully twelve missiles launched from the two Depp Rogs and streaked across the sky, zooming past the 3 Jet Core Boosters in the process. Almost immediately the Jet Core Boosters began to accelerate and launched two missiles a piece in an attempt to saturate the airspace and overwhelm the their foes. Not long after, however, each of the three JCB pilots woke up to the sobering reality that they themselves were being painted with radar. Their Dish operators hurriedly reminded the pilots that there were now three salvos of missiles incoming and instructed on an appropriate course of action but the three were already performing evasive maneuvers. "Damn I don’t think we should have let the BUFF’s expend all their ordinance at once," remarked one of the pilots in hindsight as he struggled to gain even more altitude above the cloud cover. "Hey at least.... we got two of them!" reported another pilot as he took a moment to glance at two fiery balls in the distance before turning his attention back at his airspeed and altimeter. The rookie pilots struggled to dodge the first salvo of missiles, but in doing so lost quite a bit of airspeed pulling off high g maneuvers to juke the guided warheads. In the midst of trying to dodge the second set of missiles, the lead pilot struggled to stay conscious while trying to get some information as to the whereabouts of the Dopps. "Anybody... see... the... Dopps? We should have.... visual contact long... by now!" he yelled through clenched teeth. "No visuals in the sky around you, Dagger leader, I suspect they might have hid in the clo-" A large explosion cut the Dish’ communique short and in its stead flew a Dopp with vulcans blazing to ensure the kill. By the time the three Federation fighter pilots knew what happened and had miraculously dodged the last salvo of the missiles, they were each facing up against two Dopps a piece-- ones with more experienced pilots. "Sir we have lost all contact with our reconaissance, JCBs, and the bombers." A grimace appeared on the Federation captain’s face as he quickly mulled about his options. "How long until the Parmesan’s on station, ensign?" "Five minutes sir, but their fighters are already in the air and will reach us in two," he replied. "Not enough time. The Dopp’s will be on us in under a minute," said the captain, dissolving any false hope that the younger, more inexperienced officer might have held. "Get in your parachutes, I’ll take the helm." "But, sir, we aren’t defenseless," interjected the ensign, confused as to his commanding officer’s seeming defeatism. "I SAID NOW! Everyone, parachutes! Get ready to bail when I say so!" barked the CO as he commandeered the transport by himself. True to own predictions, the Medea’s captain watched as the remaining six Dopps circled around to the back of his aircraft with little to no effort and launch a single missile toward each the engines clusters. The instrument cluster lit up like a festive holiday and a series of alarms greeted the man as they all pointed out the obvious. Activating the built in fire extinguishers was a mere formality at this point as he did the best he could to guide the craft to a lower altitude and away from civilization before evacuating the failing aircraft himself. The soft voice of the Luggun’s radio operator came across the open comms of the remaining Dopp pilots. "Adder squadron, we’ve detected what seems to be another Medea air battle group approaching from the same vector as the previous one. Advised to RTB" A quick sound off from the Zeon pilots established the presence of low fuel reserves which eventually convinced the squadron leader to return to Kimberlite for refueling and rearmaments. "Hawkeye, inform base that we are RTB." "Will do, Adder leader. Oh, and before you ask, two confirmed Zeon parachute openings and the marines have already been dispatched to pick them up."  Federation Victory
  Lunar Union Victory
• Luke Forte - 1 CP Gained, No Damage • Veronica Wu - 1 CP Gained, No Damage, fined 100 SP • Yui Li - 1 CP Gained, No Damage, accepts 100 SP fine Even in the year UC 0083, the continent of Africa is still teeming with life. The massive war between the Earth Federation and the Duchy of Zeon had torn much of the world apart. There is a section of Australia that will never recover. But here, Nature endures. For as long as it can. The green and black steel foot of a Zaku II F2 flattens a patch of vegetation. The enormous war machine continues in stride with the rest of the patrol: four more veteran Zaku II F2s led by a Dom Tropen. It feels good to be back out in the open again, instead of collecting dust inside the diamond mine that is Kimberlite. But this newly found freedom is also a bad sign. It meant the Earth Federation has found them and will eventually come for them. One of the Zaku II F2s stops in his footsteps. The monoeye swivels back and forth, then finally looks up. To his credit, the pilot does manage to say, "What is that?" The Depp Rogs did their job beautifully, as the African terrain is set on fire and littered with craters. Descending lbehind the bombs is the Albion with her laser AA turrets exposed and at the ready. "Tell the batteries to fire at will with utter VIGILANCE," commanded Captain Melendez. Energy strikes burn patches in the ground as Zaku II F2s stumble back and forth to avoid them and the bombs. Projectile rounds reach out to snag the annoying aircraft, but the squad is then assaulted by a hail of beam rifle fire. "Get some!" dares Sergeant First Class Rem Hace as his Powered GM levels his beam rifle. A Zaku II F2 actually manage to back up out of the firestorm. The 90mm MMP-80 came up swiftly only for the Zaku pilot to notice something off to his side. "Think fast!" Something flew in front of the Zaku II and the MS caught it with an open hand. The sound of the grenade was still fading away when Sergeant Link Rocz's GP01 puts the last beam shot into the downed Zaku II. "Not fast enough," he remarks. Only the Dom Tropen is left as the moves side to side, effortlessly avoiding the falling bombs, beam shots, and laser AA. That is, until the Dom Tropen lost its legs. The GP00 Blossom ducks as the torso of the Dom Tropen flew above and over. Captain Aleksander Dolvich The 3rd spun around and with the twirl of the blazing light saber, flung it into the chest of the still moving Dom Tropen. Hace's Powered GM and Rocz's GP01 caught up to the GP00 by the time the dead Dom Tropen landed. "Well," said Dolvich," that turned out better than the past week." Federation Victory
• Link Rocz: 8 VP gained, Repairing 1 • Rem Hace: 7 VP gained, Repairing 1 • Aleksander Dolvich The 3rd: 7 VP gained, Repairing 1 |