Post by nirvash on Jan 5, 2010 19:39:04 GMT -5
Yesterday, October 4, UC 0079
The cyclopean hangar doors opened gently, and like a palatial egress, a Mobile Suit sized aperture expanded in front of the GM Sniper II, readied now with a full arsenal; a the long range ballistic sniper rifle supported in its hands, a beam rifle on a rear hardpoint, and extra rifle magazines decorated the reamaining magnetic storage units. Beyond the spaceborne aperture was a coruscating field of effulgent points, blotted inky here and there but the silhouette of ships; an Earth Federal fleet, a fleet populated in various positions by dummy balloons. From here, it was hard to tell what was real and what was a decoy.
"Kreuz, clear for launch. See ya later, deadeye." The lack of radio static saturation was absent from the hangar crewman's contact link communication, and after the signal terminated, Seaman Kreuz was left with the systematic and erratic computer alerts to confer with. He let out an extended sigh. "Zeeks, huh. It's been a while." The term still didn't pass his lips easily. The blue machine's feet separated from the hangar floor, the magnets disengaged with a quick electrical impulse, and into the glittering abyss it went.
Today, October 5, UC 0079
"Hey, you, yes, you, dumbass! Get over here, we need to crack this clam open." The Merrimack's scanty hangar was filled with an uproarious din, rife with yelling mechanics, ship crew, and a handful of pilots, all scrambling to assist the few mangled and battered Mobile Suits that had been able to retreat to the lone remaining Salamis. The shouting mechanic pulled a nebulously dressed crewman up onto a blue GM, and they began looking for an access panel.
The machine's body was seemingly dashed against the metal, corpselike and limp, and its legs stretched out before it, giving the general impression of dead body leaned against a wall. Fortunately, the magnet system still worked, and the GM was able to secure itself in position, but the arms were unable to lock their actuators into safety mode, and they hung at the machine's side, limp on the hangar floor. Dents decorated the surface, focused to one side of the armor, and much of the armoring was now misshapen, disabling joints and inhibiting hatches from functioning properly, including the cockpit, which the two men were now prying at.
"-od DAMMIT!" The cockpit burst open, flinging the two workers away from the mobile suit, and Michael Kreuz drew his leg back before pulling himself out of the small opening bodily. The hatch had barely been restrained before now, but the additional prying from outside, and the knowledge that the hangar was now pressurized motivated the pilot to aid in their project.
"Woah there, flyboy, try not to hurt the guy that makes sure your air don't stop workin' when you're shootin' up some Zeekies, eh?"
"Yeah, sorry." Kreuz took off his helmet, holding it over his shoulder with one hand, and headed off to get something to eat, or maybe find a nice, warm hole to sleep in. Getting blown up take a lot of you, he thought, and pulled himself over a rail and through a door.
The cyclopean hangar doors opened gently, and like a palatial egress, a Mobile Suit sized aperture expanded in front of the GM Sniper II, readied now with a full arsenal; a the long range ballistic sniper rifle supported in its hands, a beam rifle on a rear hardpoint, and extra rifle magazines decorated the reamaining magnetic storage units. Beyond the spaceborne aperture was a coruscating field of effulgent points, blotted inky here and there but the silhouette of ships; an Earth Federal fleet, a fleet populated in various positions by dummy balloons. From here, it was hard to tell what was real and what was a decoy.
"Kreuz, clear for launch. See ya later, deadeye." The lack of radio static saturation was absent from the hangar crewman's contact link communication, and after the signal terminated, Seaman Kreuz was left with the systematic and erratic computer alerts to confer with. He let out an extended sigh. "Zeeks, huh. It's been a while." The term still didn't pass his lips easily. The blue machine's feet separated from the hangar floor, the magnets disengaged with a quick electrical impulse, and into the glittering abyss it went.
Today, October 5, UC 0079
"Hey, you, yes, you, dumbass! Get over here, we need to crack this clam open." The Merrimack's scanty hangar was filled with an uproarious din, rife with yelling mechanics, ship crew, and a handful of pilots, all scrambling to assist the few mangled and battered Mobile Suits that had been able to retreat to the lone remaining Salamis. The shouting mechanic pulled a nebulously dressed crewman up onto a blue GM, and they began looking for an access panel.
The machine's body was seemingly dashed against the metal, corpselike and limp, and its legs stretched out before it, giving the general impression of dead body leaned against a wall. Fortunately, the magnet system still worked, and the GM was able to secure itself in position, but the arms were unable to lock their actuators into safety mode, and they hung at the machine's side, limp on the hangar floor. Dents decorated the surface, focused to one side of the armor, and much of the armoring was now misshapen, disabling joints and inhibiting hatches from functioning properly, including the cockpit, which the two men were now prying at.
"-od DAMMIT!" The cockpit burst open, flinging the two workers away from the mobile suit, and Michael Kreuz drew his leg back before pulling himself out of the small opening bodily. The hatch had barely been restrained before now, but the additional prying from outside, and the knowledge that the hangar was now pressurized motivated the pilot to aid in their project.
"Woah there, flyboy, try not to hurt the guy that makes sure your air don't stop workin' when you're shootin' up some Zeekies, eh?"
"Yeah, sorry." Kreuz took off his helmet, holding it over his shoulder with one hand, and headed off to get something to eat, or maybe find a nice, warm hole to sleep in. Getting blown up take a lot of you, he thought, and pulled himself over a rail and through a door.