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Post by zerodash0 on Dec 24, 2009 23:59:59 GMT -5
He Sees You When You're Sleeping...
John Richmond and his infantry scout Lhasa
September 5, UC 0079: 00:45 Hours In the moonless darkness that swallowed Lhasa like a cloud of shadows, the majority of the Zeon base slept quietly. Their trust placed in the night watch, illuminating the hazy perimeter with large spotlights. Ironically, it was they who were being watched tonight. Tiny subdued green lights shone in the distance, filtered out by the foggy night. Lights emanating from the night-vision goggles of John Richmond and his men. As John zoomed in on the occupied city, he quietly listed off guard locations, bunkers, barracks, motor pools and the like. "Tower number five, four on watch, three armed with XM8's, one manning a mounted MG4." His voice barely above a whisper, the soldier to his left jotting down all the info, and the one to his right drawing a small map of the fortifications. He continued scanning, naming off points of interest as his subordinates recorded the data. His eye was sharp, but in this fog he knew there were things he couldn't see from this vantage point. "Team two, prepare to move in for a closer look," He scarcely more than breathed over the radio, "Ears on boys, I want confirmation of any enemy Mobile Suits." The message trailed down a solid black wire sheathed in a grey and brown cloth mesh, finding it's way into the Type seventy-four hover-truck which had hidden itself inside an alcove in the mountain. The piston fired with an echo that made the sonar operator's heart jump. He knew they were out of earshot, but couldn't help but be nervous. A few moments passed before a reply followed the wire trail back to John's ears. "I've got what sounds like a machine shop in the northwest corner of the city, that's probably where they're keeping the suits that aren't sortieing. There's a patrol eight clicks dead north, two Cyclops there. A second patrol 6 clicks east in the valley, four Magellas." "Good, they're on the other side of the city from us," John whispered, "Team two, move up, watch for foot patrols and don't get too close." The second team creeps forward using caution, as well as the fog, to avoid detection. The only evidence of their presence is the long camouflaged cable trailing after them, allowed communication with the rest of the platoon. Several nerve-racking minutes of silence passed before a hushed transmission came through. "Sir, we've set up on the west end of the city." Team two's leader said, "I've got visual confirmation on that machine shop, as well as a second set of barracks, three more guard towers, and a total of twenty-three enemy foot-mobiles." "Good work," John replied, "Now for Team three, get ready to head to the-" He was cut off by the frightened whisper of the hover-truck's lookout. "Sir! I've spotted a new patrol, moving in from our south! They're headed right for us!" "Calm down soldier, how many and how far?" "One... no two Zakus, and a Sauropelta full-up with Zeeks loaded for bear. Distance three-hundred meters and closing!" "All right, radio silence, shut down all electronics and lay low. They don't know we're here so they probably aren't scanning thermal." The disturbing silence that follows is soon interrupted by the thunderous footfalls of the pair of Zakus, strung together by the drone of the Zeonic LMV's engine. Louder, nearer, and even nearer the sounds draw, and then slowly begin to fade. The scouting party was lucky, this patrol was at the end of a long night, and probably not paying enough attention. Waiting a few seconds longer, the radio again crackled out a low voice. "Sir, the patrol has entered the city, be advised the other two patrols are following suit." John wiped the sweat from his brow, it was going to get risky if they were about to send out fresh patrols. "OK, we've got all we can get without risking discovery. All Teams, pack it up and head to the rendezvous point." |
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Post by Spade on Jan 28, 2010 13:26:40 GMT -5
Rhett Paruta ambushes Thorvald Siggurdson in western Europe.
Thorvald Siggurdson was busy flipping away at switches inside the cockpit of the GM Blue Destiny 1 as it trodded through the forests of western Europe. Making minor adjustments as he was returning from field testing his unit, he was proud of the results he was given knowing all too-well that the EXAM system was but a last bastion of hope if and when he needed to use it. Constant training was needed on the battle field, you never knew when the enemy would show up and attack.
A little bit a ways, over the top of a small hill, a red mono-eye gazed down at a tall blue figure amongst the all the green. "The target is confirmed, engaging." Rhett Paruta grinned as his Zaku II K was already in artillery firing position. Lining up his sights, Rhett fired a shot from the Zaku's 180mm cannon, watching it soar down towards its target.
Thorvald was reading the output on one of the monitors when he was abruptly shaken about in his cockpit, the Blue Destiny falling over where it stood. "What in the hell was that?" Quickly getting to work, he got the position of where the shot was fired from. He stood, but had trouble doing so as the 180mm shell collided with the Blue Destiny's left arm. The luna titanium prevented the arm from being demolished, however the circuits were all severed, rendering his left arm useless. Not wasting any more time, Thorvald activated the Blue Destiny's thrusters and headed towards the direction of the firing.
Rhett in the meantime was already getting up from his crouched position. "I only had time for one shot, and it hit, so far so good." Before moving towards his quarry, he fired off the missile from the leg pod. As the missiles left white streaming arcs, Rhett charged down the hill after them, his 120mm machine gun loaded and ready.
The missiles came in fast against the faster Blue Destiny. Thorvald manuevered his way past the first missile and strafed to avoid the second, its close blast shaking him inside the cockpit. Dazed, he forgot about the last missile as it impacted square in his chest. The GM Blue Destiny took a hard hit as it was sent flying back and hit the ground with a thud. The explosion's force knocked off the already weakened left arm as it lay on the ground in front of him. The damage was felt as it slowed the suits responses. "Damn, get up!" Thorvald grunted as the Blue Destiny tried to regain composure.
Rhett engaged the Zaku II K's thrusters and opened fire on the fallen GM Blue Destiny. The spray from the 120mm machine gun littered the ground around Thorvald and his mobile suit. "I need to get closer! That armor is too thick!" Closing the range on him and his enemy, Rhett pulled out the Heat Tomahawk as it's blade heated up, glowing orange.
A few shells from Rhett's fire hit the GM, punching holes in the body, but not dealing enough damage to put the test mobile suit out of commission. "Today is not your lucky day, Zeek!" Thorvald fired the two chest missiles the GM Blue Destiny had stored at the approaching Zaku.
Rhett widened his eyes as he saw the missiles coming straight for him. He responded by ducking his mobile suit under the first missile, the second one hitting the Zaku II K's leg, blowing it clear off the rest of the body. "Damnit!" Rhett exclaimed as his suit started to fall face-forward towards the ground. Having a hard landing, Rhett used his mobile suits arms to raise him up enough to look at the enemy that was right in front of him. Both suits disabled on the ground, Rhett took one final stand and raised his right arm, heat tomahawk in hand and then threw it at the GM Blue Destiny.
Thorvald, convinced that his enemy was finished seeing it fall to the ground, let his guard down as he saw the enemy throw its heat tomahawk straight at him and his mobile suit. Trying to make the GM Blue Destiny respond to his commands, it only spasmed on the ground as all the controls were messed up from the many missile explosions. The heat tomahawk then impacted with the GM's head, sticking deep into it, disabling the main camera.
With the enemies main camera taken out and the mobile suit disabled, Rhett used this opportunity to deploy smoke grenades and crawl away, radioing in nearby support to come pick him and his damaged mobile suit up from the battlefield.
Outcome: Draw
Rhett Paruta: 7 VP gained, Repairing 2
Thorvald Siggurdson: 7 VP gained, Repairing 3
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I typed it all up in with the html format before this lol so I just made it more forum friendly.
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Nomad
Rogue 
[Insert Coin]
Posts: 42
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Post by Nomad on Jan 31, 2010 21:50:58 GMT -5
OYW won't die! Not on my watch! Why? Because I am a Grey Warden/Guardian of Earth.
“I am the hope of the universe. I am the answer to all living things that cry out for peace. I am protector of the innocent. I am the light in the darkness. I am truth. Ally to good! Nightmare to you!”
Also please note, if I had more details this would have been better.
Akira Renjiro spars Jack Cousland at Solomon.
All was silent in space fortress Solomon but the Solomon Defense Fleet was as alert as it could be, with all primary personnel on active duty, while secondary were on standby. Among the countless Zeon pilots stationed in the Asteroid base, a group were celebrating recent victories. The rookies were blessed to see another day and were toasting glasses in the cantina. The festivities brought with it arrogance with the pilots’ attitudes. It was only a matter of time before a brawl would occur.
Instead of exchanging fists, the pilots known as Akira Renjiro and Jack Cousland instead exchanged witty remarks. After enough retorts were volleyed back and forth, the two decided to settle the argument of who was a superior pilot on the battlefield. It all began with Cousland’s flaunting of his unit’s victory against a simple Earth Federation patrol unit.
After equipping their spacesuits, and making their way to one of Solomon’s many hangars, the two pilots entered their respective units: Akira in the MS-06F and Jack in the MS-06F2. It would be an interesting spar.
As the first shots were fired, off duty pilots cheered on in the distance. Paint pellets whizzed past Akira as he quickly reacted, effectively evading the incoming fire. Akira retaliated with his Zaku paint machinegun. Akira was more accurate, but the F2 Model Zaku’s maneuverability was superior to that of its predecessor.
“You are going to have to do better than that.” remarked Jack, in his usual smug tone.
“Your pride will be your down fall.” retorted Akira. He continued firing the Zaku Machinegun, trying to determine his opponents movements while doing so.
Akira shifted to the left, to avoid more pellets, while doing so, Jack shifted to the right. Akira took advantage of the fact that his opponent left himself so opponent and fired and entire clip.
“Nice try.” commented Jack as he adjusted himself, letting his shield take the pounding of the paint pellets.
“Heh.” was all that Akira replied with as he contemplated his next action.
“My turn!” announced Jack, slightly aggravated. He turned and fired a “Panzer faust” loaded with paint from a launcher in F2’s other arm. “Try that on for size, camp.”
Akira thrusted upward, soaring above the blast of paint. Had it been a real warhead, he would have been able to survive the blast, but his Zaku wouldn’t have been as fortunate.
As Akira made his way out of the blast radius, he instantaneously performed a 360 degree turn, firing a shot from a Zaku Bazooka. The shot managed to nail the F2’s right torso.
“Heh, no matter. I still win. I got you first!” shouted Jack.
“It would have been a tie as my unit would have been able to survive the blast, and because of where I was managed to tag you, your mobile suit would be immobile.” replied Akira as he pointed out the paint marks on the F2’s body.
Jack cursed and lunged forward. As he approached Akira’s Zaku he kicked the unit in the chest. Akira rattled in the cockpit as his Zaku was pushed backward. Quickly responding, he withdrew his heat hawk and tore off the F2’s revealed leg.
Jack cursed some more and retreated to the hangar bays.
“Sore loser.” muttered Akira under his breath.
Meanwhile back in the hangar bays, Jack is called to his superior officer, who is very displeased.
“Son, for that little stunt you pulled, you are hereby suspended from duty for a couple days. It would have been longer, but I happen to approve of such methods, just as lng as they are used against our enemy and not our allies. Remember that, private.”
Outcome: Draw
Akira Renjiro: 5 VP, 1 Day Repairs
Jack Cousland: 5 VP, 2 Days Suspended
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Post by on Jan 31, 2010 22:53:50 GMT -5
Bruce strife Scouts lhasa
“You sure we’ll be alright?” The young Marine turned to his comanding officer who was looking through a pair of binoculars. “you know who is in this base, don’t you?”
Bruce turned to his subbordinate and with the blunt grace of any Marine captain responded “That’d be why we’re here soldier; to find out” the now agitated captain handed the binoculars over to his subordinate. “how’s it look from up there Frank?”
“Patrol moving in from the west, looks like a two gunships.” Frank said putting down the march issue of his favorite magazine “same thing as two hours ago.”
“confirming two, not three” Bruce said watching the Helicopters move into the hangar in the mountainface.
With a heaving sigh the Type -74 operator set down his magazine and rechecked his radar display “affirmative, two Gunships”
“there should be three, check again” Bruce said starting to share some of his Subbordinate’s unease.
It would be difficult to descend from the mountain if they were spotted, it had been something Bruce had feared since he was given the recon mission, ever since Zeon had started this war, he had been on the losing side of to many operations. Helicopters and air support were bad enough but, If they were spotted, a mobile suit would ravage their position.
“Crap!” frank yelled furiously “Damaged Heli encroaching on my position, if he spots me I’m cooked.”
“Damnit, I’m burning that magazine of yours when we get back.” Bruce said readying his M136 at the helicopter nearing the cammoflauged hovertank. The rocket screamed past the gunship alerting the fatigued pilot that the enemy had spotted him. The gunship turned toward the hidden marines and it’s gatlings dug into the boulders. Luckily for the Marines the gunship’s radio was disabled and it couldn’t alert the base.
“get the missle loaded marine!” Bruce yelled spraying the gunship with small arms fire.
“Loaded and ready.” the marine said, the launcher shaking as the Marine trembled.
“Then fire the damn thing!” Bruce berrated his subbordinate.
It was a miracle the frazzled Marine didn’t shoot the rock in front of him, even more so that the explosive hit the target. The gunship has hit in the tail and spun into the rocks a good hundred feet from the platoon. The explosion threw many of them off their feet and showered the rest with shrapnel.
“on your feet, we have to get out of here before the Zeeks come for their pilot.”
OUTCOME: scouting action fails
Bruce Strife: 2 CP, 3 days damage
Lhasa: loses 1 Gunship Heli
it's not all that great but there's my shot...
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Threid
Full Member
Tachiagare, GANDAMU!
Posts: 385
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Post by Threid on Mar 2, 2010 22:51:18 GMT -5
I'll give this a shot; I would like to be considered as a backup writer, especially considering the current ratio of battles/events:writers.
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The Cod Squad Strikes Again
Calvin absentmindedly brushed his lucky fuzzy dice as he streaked over the Baltic with his team, “The Cod Squad.” This engagement was going to be a real doozy. He’d downed plenty of Zeek patrols, but never with a team as green as this one. His eyes scanned the rapidly-brightening horizon for signs of the enemy patrol. They weren’t as sharp as they’d been ten years ago, but they were trained; he caught sunrays flaring off 6 distant objects.
“Alright men, we’ve got six bogies, coming in at 11 o’ clock. Stay sharp, and stay alive.” They were probably Dopps; Calvin prayed that the Gaw that had likely spawned them was far away. Six Dopps was trouble enough for him and his 5 wingmen.
They were green, but they weren’t half-bad; they quickly fell into formation behind him as he changed course to meet the Dopp wing head-on. He tossed his fuzzy dice aside – he’d see where they lay after the battle – and opened up the throttle. He didn’t bother with any last-minute advice for The Cod Squad; they knew it all already, and he’d only break their focus.
Missile lock. Calvin smiled, and let his AMRAAMs fly at the unlucky Dopp, which attempted an awkward-looking barrel roll. Too late. The missiles tore it in half. Two other pilots sent missiles streaking toward the Dopps, managing between them to damage one of the 5 remaining enemy aircraft. Six versus four-and-a-half. It’ll take some doing.
Now it was the Dopps’ turn to launch their missiles. One Tin Cod fell smoking into the churning waves below, and another exploded outright. The two squads streaked past each other, guns blazing. Calvin fell in behind one of the Dopps, spewing 25mm rounds. The Dopp answered with his Vulcan, and he felt a few shots pierce the Tin Cod’s wing. Not good enough. The Dopp fluttered, and fell, shot through the cockpit.
Another of his squad finished what their missiles had started, and sent the crippled Dopp spiraling into the ocean. The remaining Dopps tailed his squadmates, who couldn’t shake the faster, more maneuverable aircraft. Funny that something so awkward could move so quickly through the sky.
But they shouldn’t have left Calvin unmarked. He pulled hard on the controls, banking behind one of the remaining Dopps. It shot up and banked hard left, but not before swiss-cheesing the Tin Cod in front of it. Calvin had seen that move before, but his Tin Cod shook furiously as he tried to keep the Dopp between the crosshairs. Just a little more, and… Calvin sent out a stream of machinegun fire, and the Dopp rocked, then dropped out of the sky.
The remaining Dopps broke off abruptly, outnumbered, out of missiles and low on fuel. Calvin’s squadmates turned to follow, but he called them off; they’d never catch them. “Let ‘em go; we did what we came here to do. We’ll get the bastards later.” Calvin glanced at the dice: 3-2. Huh. Actually right for once.
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Threid
Full Member
Tachiagare, GANDAMU!
Posts: 385
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Post by Threid on Mar 11, 2010 0:40:48 GMT -5
Desert Storm Karl wrung the sweat from his bandana again as he and his partner trudged through the desert in their brand-spanking-new GMPGTs. He and Karla had definitely drawn the short sticks this time: A patrol through the deserts of North Africa. It was a sweltering 118 degrees outside, and his mobile suit’s ventilation system sounded like a choked vacuum. He swore he’d desert if the air conditioning broke down. “Heh – desert; that’s funny,” he mumbled to himself. “My cockpit smells like week-old Zeek ass. Yours?” Karl hoped talking would keep his mind off the heat. “Sunshine and rainbows,” she replied. That Karla was too damn cheerful. This was definitely not what he’d expected for his first assignment. Still, at least there hadn’t been any fighting yet. They hadn’t seen more than a few deserted farms since they started their tour from Gibraltar. “Heh – deserted…” The green that used to cling to the coastal regions had been driven away by rising temperatures and the escalating conflict, like the poor farmers who’d tried scratching out a living from the arid soil. Karl swore; he didn’t understand why the EF or the Zeeks would be interested in North Africa, but he had a job to do. ~ The Pink Panthers crouched behind a ridge, tensely waiting for their prey. Intel said that a duo of GMPGTs would be coming through the area today, and they had been sent out to intercept them. The captain smiled; his crack team of pilots had fought their way to reasonable notoriety in the North African Zeon Occupational Force. Their desert Zakus were perfect for the terrain, and they moved with a deadly grace on their sand skis. It would be 4 against 2, and surprise was on their side, but it still wouldn’t be an easy battle. He jumped as a couple of shiny specks appeared in his peripheral vision. “We’re about to get our action, boys. Fire on my mark.” ~ Karl panicked as his radar picked up two bazooka shots streaking toward him, from two different directions. He caught sight of a couple of Zakus popping up from behind a sand dune just before the shells hit. His main camera and left arm were gone. He screamed into the comm. system, “Karla, we’ve got company!” just before another bazooka shell slammed into her Gundam. It hit her shield, leaving a large scorch mark, and sending her Gundam stumbling backward. Two more Zakus zipped out from another sand dune behind them, and four more bazooka shells were already on their way toward the unfortunate Gundams before they’d even had a chance to draw their beam rifles. Fortunately, the first salvo had left their propulsion systems untouched, and they jumped out of the way, shields at the ready. Karl hated using his backup camera, but he had little choice. He aimed carefully at one of the Zakus that was skiing a bit too straight, and a beam tore through the suit’s right shoulder; the Zaku’s arm dropped to the ground, along with the bazooka it had been carrying. But it was too early to celebrate. Karla had taken another bazooka shot, and her suit’s left arm hung uselessly at her side. She was trying to close the distance between her and the Zakus, but the Zakus were faster on their sand skis. Fortunately for her, the Zakus were busy avoiding her beam rifle fire. “Karla, be more conservative! You’ve already burned through half your E-pac!” Karla took aim at one of the Zakus, and managed to take out one of its legs. It, in turn, burned its last bazooka round, which Karla avoided easily, jumping out of the way. It reached for the 120mm machine-gun mounted on a hardpack, but the bullets ricocheted uselessly off the GMPGTs luna titanium armor. “Nice shot!” Karl turned to come to Karla’s aid. The three Zakus that could still move circled around the two Fed pilots and fired their bazookas in unison. Karl and Karla did their best to shield, but the timing and placement of the shots made it difficult to dodge of block them all. It cost Karl his other arm, and Karla her beam rifle. The Zakus circled closer, tossing away their bazookas in favor of their heat hawks. The pink glow seemed to fit the enemy units, somehow. “Karla, your beam saber! Go for the legs, or we’ll never outrun them!” She pulled the shining sword from the left leg rack where it was stored, and crouched, baiting the more-maneuverable Zaku to approach with a barrage of machine-gun fire from her chest-mounted vulcan. One of them never had the chance. The vulcan fire poked enough holes in the steel armor to stop the Zaku and its pilot for good. The remaining two Zeeks darted in, heat hawks pulsing with pink light. Karla blocked one with her beam saber as the other lopped off her remaining functional arm. Karla screamed as the formerly-blocked heat hawk streaked toward the cockpit, but Karl knocked it away with a beam rifle shot that even he couldn’t believe. The remaining two Zaku IIs retreated a bit, grabbing their comrade’s mobile suits as they weaved away through the desert sand. Karl sent a few half-hearted beam rifle shots after them, but his targeting computer had been damaged, and without the main camera, visibility was sub-par. “We’ll let ‘em go. We already have enough to tell command. Radio in with our location to ask for support, just in case they bring back some buddies.” Karl was relieved they’d both made it through the battle. Apparently, North Africa actually was worth something, even if he still didn’t understand why. ~ The Pink Panthers were done here. The captain was sweating, despite the cool cockpit. The enemy suits were more powerful than they’d anticipated. They’d relay the information to command. Next time, he swore, they’d be ready. Next time. |
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akunzepp
Full Member
Captain Tony Knight
Posts: 342
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Post by akunzepp on Mar 11, 2010 23:43:35 GMT -5
Space Cowboys Solomon
April 1st, 0079: 00:45 Hours [/center] It was a showdown in the old west. "You're wanted by every sheriff in the region." With giant robots. "What are you going to do about it, cowboy?" In space. "I reckon I'll bring you in." On an asteroid. ~ Racock's personal Musai, Big Cock, overlooked the two. Racock slept in the Captain's quarters, leaving the crew safe to fool around with equipment priced in the billions. And fool they did. The bridge was overflowing with crew members placing bets. "Alright, odds are 2-1 that Little Cock gets plowed by the Zum City Special." Code names were essential to mask their true identities. "Last call, last call." Small notes were exchanged. Some said "1 month watch", some said "Next 2 paychecks" and still others "Zaku IIF". In the military, betting was a serious business. There was a rumor that a promotion was even swimming in there. "All bets closed. Let the battle begin!" ~ LC's Zaku was the first to move. Raising its 120mm, it let out a flurry of paint shells. ZCS was faster though. With a quick zigzag, the shells floated out into space, where they would last forever. ~ If they didn't hit the bridge. Paint splattered all over the Musai's windows. Nothing could be seen. This would be like an old baseball game over the radio. "Alright, alright. We've got a report from the gunner's crew. It seems that we have.. a ship approaching? Call off the match! Call of the match!" the radio man yelled. "We've got over a dozen notes floating around! We can't call it off!" a mechanic replied. The radio operator smacked the mechanic. "You idiot, it's Dozle!" "What's going on?" Racock was awake. "Why is there paint on the windows? Who's in charge here?" By the way the crew ran, you'd think the cops just busted a whorehouse. There were rumors sexual favors were among the bets, so that might not be too far off from the truth. The radio man stood high. "Lieutenant Karius, reporting. A friendly competition between two Zaku pilots. I'm afraid the crew got a bit.. excited." "Well Lieutenant, I suppose that's alright." Racock grinned. "Without recreation, how can we be expected to improve our skills?" Karius was amazed. "Y.. yes sir!" A video screen appeared without warning. "RACOCK!" Dozle yelled. "Why are there two Zakus deployed? I didn't give any orders saying to do that!" Racock's grin vanished. "They are training, sir." "Training?" Dozle was obviously not familiar with this term. He paused. His second in command wouldn't throw his career for some sniveling twerps. "Just make sure they don't give Big Zam a paint job too." The connection was cut. "Put my bet on the most skilled one. My personal Rick Dom will be the wager." "Commander?!" "If war wasn't fun, what use was waging it?" Radock walked back to his quarters. ~ On the surface, the battle had ended. The Zum City Special had driven a heat hawk into Little Cock's head, a single paint round on ZCS's chest. "Little Cock wins!" Karius had just won a Rick Dom. Outcome: Little Cock winsLittle Cock: +2 VP, Repairing 2, Injured 2Zum City Special: +1 VP, Repairing 1 |
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