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It was his lucky day, Scarth thought, as he observed the truck shipment going into the hidden tunnel under the mountainside. No, not that. The tunnel had nothing to do with it. It was salsbury steak day! Scarth gingerly ate up his MRE steak, wondering when such a lovely treat would come again. This was no normal MRE. No mashed potatoes and turkey for Scarth. Oh no. No hot dogs or fried rice, or cheap immitation curry. It was salsbury steak day. The tenderness. The succulant, meaty flavor. The... Salsburyness. Okay, what the fuck is a Salsbury steak? How is it different from other sorts of steak. Is it from Salsburg? Does the cow have to be from salsburg? Because lets be real here, none of us has ever eaten a salsbury steak, we just know about them because Chef talks about them on South Park all the time and the kids seem to love Salsbury Steak day and-- A heavy round of 120mm shells stopped Scarth from breaking the fourth wall, and he was snapped back into reality. He quickly turned the Guntank around, firing off a barrage of smoke grenades to ease his retreat. "Oh no!" The Zaku pilots said. "It's (>o.o)>, we've been spotted!" The pilots let out another volley, lucky shots blowing away the Guntanks right arm. Scarth pulled his machinegun arm as far back as it could manage, letting out a spray of cover fire as he hastened his retreat. The Zaku pilots dared not pursue, lest they be destroyed by the infamous and extremely manly (>o.o)>  EF Victory
• Scarth Maheart: 7 VP Gained, Repairing 4, Scouts Kimberlite See one ocean, you've seen them all. For the EFGF however, the ocean is a symbol of their control over the planet. During the One Year War, it was on the oceans that the EFF first stalled the Zeon offensives. It is as a symbol of that power, a single Himalaya-class carrier flanked by three Hillock-class destroyers and supplied by a tanker are here in the Arabian Sea. Their admiral is on patrol for pirates and especially the remnant forces of the Duchy of Zeon. The air armada of Don Escargots and Jet Core Boosters at their is formidable and would surely make short work of any threat. On the bridge of the Ark Royal, the atmosphere is tense. Stories of the events in Australia are in the minds of the crew and their performance shows it. Suddenly: "Sir! We have a positive contact!" The admiral looked over as the captain of the Ark Royal turns. "What is it?" "One of the Dish aircraft reports postive cavitations on bearing 1-1-5 range 1200!" The admiral spoke first. "Sound General Quarters! I want those Don Escargots up in the air! Have the Daring, Havok, and Ferret take up assault positions!" It was into the red-tinted frenzy of the Pendragon's command deck that Ensign William Haulk stumbles into, while buttoning his collar. "What is going on? What's the emergency?" Marina hushes him before turning back to her bridge crew. "Helm! Drop us other 25 meters, bring us into the thermocline plane and level us out to heading 2-3-5." "Roger, diving 25 meters and coming to heading 2-3-5. Rudders at 10 degrees down." Haulk looks around trying to understand the situation until he felt a familiar presence next to him. The Dom Tropen pilot turns to see Anavel Gato clenching his teeth while holding onto a cieling handrail. "Commander, what is going on?" "Federal patrols," growled Gato," we picked up signs of intense air activity on our sonar. It has to be one of their carrier fleets." "Are they going to attack us?" "What do you think?" mused Gato. "We need to get to the mobile-" "Tsch. Think for a moment, Haulk." Gato's eyes squints even more in the red combat lights. "To launch our units, the Pendragon will have to surface. The moment our bow meets fresh air, we'll be bombed straight to hell." "Then?" "We let our comrades do what they do best: fight." The air buzzes with the engines of Don Escargots fanning out over the surface of the Arabian Sea. "Multiple cavitation contacts inbound! Signal the destroyers!" As one, the three Hillock-class destroyers let loose with their main arsenal. The 36-cell vertical launch systems can fire various munitions such as missiles, rockets, and torpedoes. It is the wave of 108 torpedoes that greeted the vanguard of the Marina Fleet. In response, the three Jukon IIs and the Pendragon released a volley of torpedoes before making evasive manuevers. The calm Arabian Sea grew noisy as a deadly game of shoot-and-dance began. Even with the Pendragon launching Freeze Yard rounds, there are simply too many torpedoes to handle. All four vessels of the Marina Fleet are hit. Gato kept focused on the information coming through the command deck of the Pendragon as Haulk tried to hang onto a railing. "We have to get rid of those destroyers!" suggested Gato," then knock out that carrier so we can get rid of those aircraft!" Marina quicky shouts back at him," Don't you think I already know that! Have the Jukons close in on our target! Weapons, lock on to the nearest Hillock and fire!" Meanwhile, the surface of the Arabian Sea is being peppered by a lethal shower of depth charges. Like tiny flies, the Don Escargots darted around as various Acguys, Hygoggs, and Z'Goks took pot shots at them. Among them is Major Gene Krabbe, whose Z'Gok "Crab" Custom is the only one undamaged from the opening salvo. Like the Pendragon his Freeze Yard rounds have neutralized the torpedoes closest. But the constant volley from the destroyers are thinning their numbers even more. Then something new came onto his monitor. "Oh? What have we here?" Four signals that are nearly lost in the underwater detonations are closing in. His IFF computer's response made him smile. "GM Aqua types? C'mon boys! The Feds want to play ball!" A fury of anti-MS torpedoes race at Krabbe but he manages to pass through them with expert ease. One of the GM Aquas looks up to see the glowing monoeye of his Z'Gok. By the time he reaches for his beam pick, Krabbe's metal claw is exiting the other end of the GM Aqua's torso. "That wasn't so-hnngh!" The detonation of depth charges reminded Krabbe that there are still other things to worry about. Back on the Pendragon, the situation is getting more intense. "Captain! The U-145 reports flooding in their engine compartment and flooding on all decks! They're dead in the water!" Gato leans forward over Marina's shoulder. "Put us around them! Use them as cover and fire on that destroyer!" The petite captain of the Pendragon ignores the act of insubordination for the sake of it's wisdom. "Bring us about! Raise twenty degrees on starboard planes! Prepare for snapshot!" Like an acrobatic whale, the Pendragon did a tight turn around it's dying companion. The followup salvo from the Daring finishes off the U-145 for good. But their victory is shortlived. The admiral on the Ark Royal saw the Daring lifted out of the water from the explosion before it began to sank. Horror creeps over the bridge crew as they watch the Daring disappear beneath the waves. Suddenly a second similar explosion made the matter worse. "Ma'am! The U-109 reports that the Grabro has eliminated the Hillock they have engaged earlier! Unfortunately, the U-109 need to fall back in order to do damage control... U-121 reports their helm is inresponsive!" Several hundred meters away, the stricken U-121 is stuck in a continuous turn. Damage from the battle has damaged its rudder control and through a stroke of bad luck, debris has jammed what little control it had left. Like a shark to the scent of blood the Ferret moved in. Torpedo after torpedo from the last Hillock of the 1st Indian Ocean Patrol fleet races for the wounded Jukon II. From above, a handful of Don Escargots drop their deadly payloads as well. The death howl of the U-121's breached hull is soon overwhelmed by multiple torpedo hits on the Ferret. Both the Grabro and Marina's Pendragon unleashed strike after strike into the destroyer until it too became scrap metal sinking to the bottom of the Arabian Sea. On the bridge of the Ark Royal, the loss of all three escort Hillocks change things immediately. Sensing the impending doom, the admiral orders a fast withdrawal with the Don Escargots covering their retreat. Suddenly the enormous Himalaya rocked and groaned sharply. Gene Krabe smiled as his Z'Gok "Crab" Custom severs the Ark Royal's last propeller with his mega particle cannons. "Krabbe to the Pendragon, she is all yours," he said as he drifts away. The crippled Ark Royal launched everything it had in a desperate last stand. A few of the Hygoggs and Acguys were caught in the outlash but it did not change the inevitable. The Ark Royal is pincered by both sides as load after load of Zeon torpedoes blue chunks out of her hull. The carnage is totalled and complete when the NRS-9 is sunk out-of-hand by a roaming Acguy. The waters of the Arabian Sea is quiet again. There is a thick oil spill where the 1st Indian Ocean Patrol Fleet used to be. With the loss of the flattop, the aircraft of the Ark Royal had no other choice but to head towards Northern Africa in hopes of making it to a friendly landing strip before their fuel ran out. It was a bitter victory for the Marina Fleet as well. Virtually half of the petite captain's combat force has been destroyed in this one engagement. The thought on everyone's mind as they continue sailing is that they hope it was all worth it.  Zeon Victory
• William Haulk: 1 VP gained, No Damage • Gene Krabbe: 6 VP gained, Repairing 2 
EF Victory
• Sieglinde Mercia: 4VP Gained, Fatigued 1 • Gabriel Faust: 4VP Gained, No Damage • Ianto Kamina: 8VP Gained, No Damage • Yuka Kazami: 6VP Gained, No Damage |