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The Martian wastes were home to people. At first glance from orbit, the rust-covered world seemed desolate and dead, completely devoid of life like one of Earth's vast deserts. To the untrained eye, nothing could flourish in such a hostile environment. But to the trained eye--the educated, observant, careful eye--life was there. Amidst the shadowy crags, between the many chasms, and atop the stormiest peaks, life was eking out a living, day by day. It was almost a miracle.

To Dr. Frederick P. Montgomery, PHD, it was not such an impossible notion--not such a novel concept. Born and bred in the upper levels of Amador, he'd received the highest education possible for any Martian. His parents had been rich, bless their souls, and thus he'd benefited greatly. After graduation he could've done just about anything, up to and including traveling off planet--something many Martians couldn't even comprehend. But, he'd been introduced to another world during his residency without even stepping on a shuttlecraft. Unbeknowst to him, and entire population of humans lived underneath the pearly streets of Amador, barely making it past the ripe old age of 45. And even further, outside Amador's gated community, lived hundreds of thousands of people in ragged domes. He'd found the living conditions deplorable, unfitting to his character. The Martian people's suffering could not go untreated. This was his calling.

And somehow he'd met Jonas Keller, the Father of Revolution, and got swept into it all. Though he greatly admired Keller (like all Martians), he had trouble understanding him. Aside from his commanding aura, he found the Great Leader rarely spoke about his own desires. Dr. Montgomery had a hard time discerning an individual without knowing, intimately, what a man wanted. Perhaps it was his trivial, materialistic upbringing. Since Keller only spouted the rhetoric of a freedom fighter, Montgomery could only see him as a shell of a man. He wished someday he'd be invited into his home and allowed a cup of a tea, a few crackers, and a long palaver. Jonas, sitting with one his towheaded children bouncing on his knee, and his allegedly stunning wife beaming next to him. He could almost see it.

Clyde Jesup nudged the doctor and brought him back to real-time. They were all crammed in a dugout, several miles from the capital. They'd sealed it tight and created a makeshift living area, and though it was definitely big enough to house several teams of men, the doctor was having trouble breathing.

"Not likin' our new digs, doc?" Clyde had a long history of harassing the doctor, and though the doctor generally feigned offense, it was all in good fun.

"I do admit it's a little smaller than I'm used to." Montgomery crossed his legs and attempted to make himself comfortable. Not only was it cramped, it was cold. Every man seemed to have packed for the occasion, save the doctor. He wore his doctor's scrubs under a light jacket and sported a thick cap upon his brow. An unlit pipe dipped up and down as he shivered. He could see the commander's second, Hudson Kyle, wearing fewer articles than he, yet the man seemed as cozy as a kitten in a yarnstack. To his left was the spry, annoyingly uppity Samson Ellison who bobbed up and down in impatience, trying to fix a space heater without luck.

As if by charge of God, one of the large Free Men walked down the steps from the decompression chamber and came to attention. He hollered something in the Free Men tongue and all other Martians in the dugout dropped whatever they were doing and snapped to attention. Montgomery and Clyde did likewise, the doctor making a mental note further his studies on the Free Men dialect at a later date.

Then in came Keller himself, red cloak bristling from the decompression process. His mustache glistened with red dust and several Martians were visibly weeping. The Red Commander saluted back to his people with elegant proficiency and took off his cape. The enigmatic Jacobin stood next to him, eyes flaring blue supernovas, his face still masked by his breathing apparatus. Keller bade him forward and they strode to where Kyle and Ellison were. The group shook hands silently, everyone but Jacobin who continued his vowed silence.

“How was it?” asked one of the Martians, tentatively breaking the short reunion. His face was small, unmarked by poorly constructed domes of the outer colonies. This man was from the lower levels, probably eagerly grasping to the notion that one of them had seen one of his relatives, possibly talked to them. Due to a recent CMC crackdown, travel was limited in or out of the capital, and that meant some of its residents, on regular work detail, had been barred from going back home. It was a wonder what brought so many to Jonas Keller's cause. They flocked to him, most with similar stories, yet many with individual, heart-wrenching stories that defied all notions of human decency.

Keller's face was a mask of empathy. He felt for the man, reaching out and placing a hand in some pathetic attempt at comfort. “The capital is as heavily guarded as ever. It will take our combined effort to achieve our victory.” He watched as the man's head sank in defeat, and he knew he was headed down the wrong path. “But do not despair. It is not impossible.”

Everyone moved in closer as Keller laid out the details for the following day. Each Martian was silent, unified in the prospect of freedom. This group of men, huddled closely in the dead of the Martian night, planned for their children's future. This group of men, who had started out as little more than a rabbled pack of mismatched miners in a basement, signing their names in blood to a man they hardly knew, would live and die by the honor of their fathers, and by the dream of their unborn.

No man would stop until the Red Planet was free.

Can't find orange base anywhere.

Her eyebrow arched as the man in Uniform approached her and asked to join her. It was pretty odd considering as everyone else on the submarine had been avoiding her like the plague. It was pretty obvious when all the tables within fifteen feet of you were vacated.

She just made a small noise, holding the hot tea up to her face again and taking a drink "Might as well..." She replied and kicked one of the chairs out. Not that she was trying to be rude or anything, but she understandably not in the best of moods. She had alot to think on. Perhaps she should have just side at Side 3 with her family, then she would've been able to just flee the Earth Sphere under an assumed name and she wouldn't be stuck on a submarine. She would've never joined the SS and she probably would have lived a decent life.

Escape was looking more and more impossible. She turned her thoughts elsewhere. Perhaps the court wouldn't be impossible to deal with and in the event that it wasn't impossible to deal with she really needed to think. What crimes had she been involved with? She sighed, only one really stood out. The attack on Jaburo, where the SS used Nuclear Weapons in a last ditch effort to end the war in favor of Zeon. There was no denying that she there, but she had nothing to do really with the decision to actually use the weapons.

"So....I guess I made a few poor life decisions, huh?" She tried to be light hearted, giving a small chuckle before taking another sip from the mug that contained her tea. Akira was confused, and desperation had truly begun to set in. She honestly didn't know what would be better. Whether she should try to run and die like that or if she should just turn her self in, perhaps they would let her off easy if she testified against all of her superior officers. It wasn't unheard of, but somehow she figured that would only spare her an execution in favor of a life imprisonment.

Then she thought back to the last message she got from command and couldn't help but start laughing as her body relaxed and leaned into her chair "Die Gloriously, they said..." Came her explanation for the sudden outburst of laughter.

The desert sands tried their best at annoying his scarred skin. Kuuro moved forward through the small storm as its winds kicked at his coat and cape. The sand did bring back some bad memories as there had been more than a few times he had visited this sad nation as a surgeon. The constant war among the nations had injured several wealthy men and women. As long as there was a civil war Kuuro would find himself disturbed from his solitude to go patch up some Tribal Chief's atrium or a politician's ass.

It was not the healing that had brought him to the country however. Normally along with the injured he'd find his payment and be on his way but he had enlisted himself into the African Unions employ for the past few weeks. What had changed his goals so quickly into the assistance of others was a mystery to himself.

It was not long before he found the man who had called him out into the sands of no where.

"DOCTOR!" A small stature man ran up quickly to the doctors side as the storm suddenly cleared. They could make out each other clearly now, although the tight fitted robes of his acquaintance showed too much. The appearance did not seem to be his natural attire.

"Do I know you?" His eyes glanced over his patient, hot from the sun his mind was unable to place the face immediatly.

"Yes Sensei! I'm Corporal Warren Neurad! You helped me with that skin eatting disease in the middle of a sand storm in Egypt. I thought I was a goner for sure. Anyways, I never thought I'd be doing this so quickly but I'd like to pay off the debt in it's entirety." The man whistled and from over the dune a camel trotted its way over to the two men.

On each side of the beast large bage bulged as it weighed the poor beast down. A glint caught the doctor's eye as he lifted the flap and found several bars of gold stamped with the Duchy of Zeon's mark. His eyes ignored the small fortune as he turned back to the corporal.

"Your dept to me is clear. I'll note your account closed." As he grabbed the reigns of the beast and turned away the other man suddenly barked out a warning.

"Just don't tell them you got it from me!" He gave a short laugh as the man was joyous beyond beleif.

Kuuro turned back around to question the statement, "How did you come in possesion of this gold? You were an officer in the Zeon's Military." Although the response mean't little to him he had a feeling the man's comment held a much deeper secret that simply wanting to remain anynomous.

"Haven't you heard!? The war is over! WE LOST!" The Zeon soldier laughed himself onto the floor, his mental well being was critical at best from either Zeon's defeat or the heat. "We lost it all. They're taking our home, our bases, everything. I've been down here for weeks and now with all the route broken I know I won't see another legitimate paycheck for months. I kept some for myself, but as long as you are paid off I can consider myself a free man from this day forward! I'm not an officer! I am from Africa!" Officer Neurad began shaking his hips as his robes displayed an ugly image.

The war was over. With the Earth almost pacified completely the patrols would soon become weaker on the borders. His unlicensed medical dealings would no longer demand a mobile suit for him to travel by for safety and assured arrival. Perhaps it was best to leave the battlefield before the Federation's attention moved towards independent operatives and the African Union themselves once they had licked the bones of the Duchy clean. It was with these ideas in mind he fared the theif goodbye and made his way back.

Kuuro cared little to pry into the terms of surrender from a man as poorly dressed as that. It was news obtainable in detail on the market, which included the terms of the surrender, he would pass that information on to those who would make better use of it than himself and instead sought a fence for liquidating his Zeon gold for cash.

For the record, I think it's so cute how two simple changes like turning Mines into add-ons and making supply fleets not count for patrols means I have to add 5 bases and 1 fleet to the game and create two additional rules.

Again, for my own perusal.

Following stuff to be REMOVED:

Europe: Constantinople
East Asia: Lhasa




Following stuff to be ADDED:

Berlin - Zeon Fortress, Europe
Constantinople - Zeon Fortification, Europe/Central Asia
Gibraltar - EF Fortification, Europe/North Africa
Tokyo - EF Fortification, East Asia
SS Test Site - Hidden Zeon Fortification, East Asia (formerly Lhasa)
Beijing - Zeon Fortress, East Asia
Some Mine - EF Mine, South America
Some fleet - Zeon fleet in space, moves between Solomon and 2E, similar to EFSF Resupply Fleet.
Flanagan Agency - Hidden Zeon Fortification on Baldur Bay
EFSF Test Site - Hidden EF Fortification on Libot

2-3 single NPC ships added at 2E to be attacked per side.

Following stuff to be CHANGED:

SEA HQ, Kimberlite, AXIS and Jaburo become Hidden.

General Olaf Ostlund,

While the terms of your surrender are generous indeed. I am afraid that I have to decline, as I do not agree to all of the terms within the articles. While over the course of the war, I have seen that your fleet has been a worthy adversary, I am afraid that I cannot meet you in these conditions.

However, I will see you on the ice very shortly. Who knows, maybe in another lifetime, we could have gotten to know each other on friendlier terms.

With respect and regards,

Captain Aleksander Irusk
Commanding Officer, Mobile Suit Forces, Terrestrial Assault Force