Post by zerodash0 on Jan 6, 2010 23:20:40 GMT -5
Outside the Gwazine, Derek's Guncannon waited in line as several thrashed mobile suits made their landing attempts. This was complicated by the crash-landing of the Sniper II, but the Gwazine's massive hangar was handling the process well. Some pilots opted to have their machines secured by wire and hauled in for safety. Few were in good enough shape to scoff at that decision.
Several minutes of waiting later, a transmission came in on Derek's monitor.
"Guncannon, this is Gwazine, are you able to land on your own?" The Gwazine's operator asked, stress of the job apparent in her voice.
"Uhh.. Roger that Gwazine, my suit's legs are broken, but if you'll secure my weapons for me I can bring it in on my own." Derek replied, noting that not even the cannons on his suit were presently attached to it.
"Understood Guncannon, sending retrieval for mobile suit weapons. You are clear to land."
Derek slowly released the suit's grip on it's beam gun, allowing it to float stationary beside his severed cannons, and carefully began moving toward the open hangar. As he closed in, several soldiers in normalsuits floated past, tow cables trailing behind them. His suit drifted up to the ceiling of the hangar, and the operator's voice again filled his ears.
"Guncannon correct course! You'll hit the ship!"
"Relax, I can't just aim for the hangar floor or I'll smash into it." Derek replied, halting his movement by grasping the upper edge of the hangar opening with his suit's hands, and slowly pulling himself inside. The operator couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"Sorry, after all the close calls today..."
"I know how you feel Gwazine, lets hope they're over and done with for today." Derek replied as the Guncannon lowered itself to the hangar floor, where technicians quickly tied it down and began to pry open the battered hatch. After a good helping of elbow-grease, it broke off entirely, freeing the tired pilot and adding to the repair list.
Derek climbed out of the broken red machine, looking across at Kreuz's Sniper II. It looked as bad off as everything else in the hangar, parts missing, everything else looking like a crumpled soda can. It was a mechanic's nightmare. Shaking his helmeted head, he floats down and heads to the locker rooms to change.
Emerging from the lockers after a quick shower, Derek felt surprisingly unrefreshed. Floating lazily through the halls, he finally bumped into one of the marines that helped capture the ship.
"uhh... excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know where I can find a bunk would you?" He asked between yawns.
"Sure thing flyboy," The marine replied, noting the pilot's wings on Derek's uniform, "Take a right at the corridor just ahead and quarters start six doors down. They've put names on the ones that are taken, so just take your pick from what's left."
"Thanks a lot." Derek said floating past, catching a look at the marine's name on his uniform. "Steyr Mossberg huh? That's an odd name, I wonder where he's from."
Floating down the hall, Derek soon saw the named doors denoting chosen quarters. Due to the rushed nature of everything on the ship at the moment, names were written in black marker on a piece of duct tape and attached to each door. Conveniently, at the last named door the roll of tape was left floating, the marker wrapped in the end of the tape so as not to be lost. Seeing no point in searching all the rooms, Derek opened the first availible door, finding it rather nice. He quickly jotted his name down on a length of tape and claimed the room as his own.
Stepping inside, he noticed the room to be rather nice for what he figured was a junior officer's room. There was a desk with a computer, a small table and chair, a bed, and a small cabinet on the wall. He had been through these rooms once, but was only focused on finding Zeon paraphernalia at the time.
Curious, he examined the cabinet, withdrawing a pair of shotglasses and a fair-sized bottle of whiskey. Reading the label he chuckled to himself.
"Merquise Royal, Single Barrel eh? Oh, Reed's gonna love this." He thought aloud, finding three more identical bottles in the cabinet before replacing the items and deciding to take a nap.
Several minutes of waiting later, a transmission came in on Derek's monitor.
"Guncannon, this is Gwazine, are you able to land on your own?" The Gwazine's operator asked, stress of the job apparent in her voice.
"Uhh.. Roger that Gwazine, my suit's legs are broken, but if you'll secure my weapons for me I can bring it in on my own." Derek replied, noting that not even the cannons on his suit were presently attached to it.
"Understood Guncannon, sending retrieval for mobile suit weapons. You are clear to land."
Derek slowly released the suit's grip on it's beam gun, allowing it to float stationary beside his severed cannons, and carefully began moving toward the open hangar. As he closed in, several soldiers in normalsuits floated past, tow cables trailing behind them. His suit drifted up to the ceiling of the hangar, and the operator's voice again filled his ears.
"Guncannon correct course! You'll hit the ship!"
"Relax, I can't just aim for the hangar floor or I'll smash into it." Derek replied, halting his movement by grasping the upper edge of the hangar opening with his suit's hands, and slowly pulling himself inside. The operator couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"Sorry, after all the close calls today..."
"I know how you feel Gwazine, lets hope they're over and done with for today." Derek replied as the Guncannon lowered itself to the hangar floor, where technicians quickly tied it down and began to pry open the battered hatch. After a good helping of elbow-grease, it broke off entirely, freeing the tired pilot and adding to the repair list.
Derek climbed out of the broken red machine, looking across at Kreuz's Sniper II. It looked as bad off as everything else in the hangar, parts missing, everything else looking like a crumpled soda can. It was a mechanic's nightmare. Shaking his helmeted head, he floats down and heads to the locker rooms to change.
Emerging from the lockers after a quick shower, Derek felt surprisingly unrefreshed. Floating lazily through the halls, he finally bumped into one of the marines that helped capture the ship.
"uhh... excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know where I can find a bunk would you?" He asked between yawns.
"Sure thing flyboy," The marine replied, noting the pilot's wings on Derek's uniform, "Take a right at the corridor just ahead and quarters start six doors down. They've put names on the ones that are taken, so just take your pick from what's left."
"Thanks a lot." Derek said floating past, catching a look at the marine's name on his uniform. "Steyr Mossberg huh? That's an odd name, I wonder where he's from."
Floating down the hall, Derek soon saw the named doors denoting chosen quarters. Due to the rushed nature of everything on the ship at the moment, names were written in black marker on a piece of duct tape and attached to each door. Conveniently, at the last named door the roll of tape was left floating, the marker wrapped in the end of the tape so as not to be lost. Seeing no point in searching all the rooms, Derek opened the first availible door, finding it rather nice. He quickly jotted his name down on a length of tape and claimed the room as his own.
Stepping inside, he noticed the room to be rather nice for what he figured was a junior officer's room. There was a desk with a computer, a small table and chair, a bed, and a small cabinet on the wall. He had been through these rooms once, but was only focused on finding Zeon paraphernalia at the time.
Curious, he examined the cabinet, withdrawing a pair of shotglasses and a fair-sized bottle of whiskey. Reading the label he chuckled to himself.
"Merquise Royal, Single Barrel eh? Oh, Reed's gonna love this." He thought aloud, finding three more identical bottles in the cabinet before replacing the items and deciding to take a nap.
