"Are you sure this is such a good idea, sir?" one of Saladin's wingmen asked. "Three of us against a battleship."

"They're a bunch of rookies," Saladin answered. "No match for us, you'll see."

"Here they come!" the other BuCue pilot announced.

The three dog-like suits ducked down as bullets began to fly overhead, signaling the advance of a squad of GiNNs. Two of the grey suits charged forward, spraying rounds from their machineguns as they closed with Saladin's squad while the other unit hung back, using its rifle to fire more precise shots. The BuCues quickly returned fired as they lined up, slamming high-velocity paintballs and paint missiles into the rifle-wielder as they passed. In the distance, the Petrie-class battleship under Faisal as-Senussi loomed over them like a small mountain with three more GiNNs protecting it.

"The 'enemy' approaches, Your Highness," the ship's sensor officer reported. "Grey 3 has already reported being downed while the rest of the team closes in."

"String the noose around Saladin's neck," Faisal as-Senussi ordered. "He WILL kneel before me!"

The battleship's guns began tracking the incoming BuCues, but they were too big and their targets too small to get shots off in time. The ship's missile launchers, however, spat dozens of paint-filled rockets into the air, preparing to blanket the three hounds when the team suddenly split off. One of the standard BuCues opened fire on the ship's cannons as it evaded a GiNN's defensive fire while the other eagerly shot and then pounced on another GiNN, leaving Saladin alone to spray missiles at the Petrie's command tower.

"Evasive action!" Faisal ordered. "Where are my GiNNs?"

"Squad 1 has caught up and is attacking Saladin from behind," the sensor officer reported. "Squad 2 has lost a mobile suit, but we've disabled one of their BuCues."

Saladin growled at the sight of one of his wingmen being used as a stepping stool by a GiNN, but he was too busy evading missiles to do anything about it. When the GiNN suddenly toppled over, sporting a bright red spot on its face. He remembered the other pilot he had invited to the battle, suddenly glad he had until Killian Fleischer turned his gun on Saladin's BuCue, tagging its wing before Saladin ducked behind the Petrie's bulk.

Faisal's crew was quick to react to the new threat towards their victory. The ship's cannons now had a target they could hit, launching a carpet barrage of the GiNN LRRT's position. The sharp-eyed sniper moved quickly, managing to avoid most of the barrage, though the back of his suit was covered in paint. He turned to fire on the other mobile suits once more, but was formed to turn his attention to the skies.

"Well, shit," he muttered, firing at the incoming missiles before falling back once more.

The hills became blanketed in paint as the missiles exploded, followed by another artillery strike. Try as Killian might to escape, the Petrie had been determined to bring his suit down, succeeding through sheer volume what accuracy could not. The GiNN, its previous dark coloring barely visible beneath the bright orange paint, stumbled forward before falling to its knees.

The customized BuCue had used the distraction wisely, covering his wingman with missiles until massed fire from the GiNNs had finally disabled it at the cost of another two of their own. The remaining two GiNNs fired on Saladin's brown BuCue, sometimes leaving splatters of orange upon it as the quadruped closed in with them. It leapt into the air, getting behind the GiNNs. Without backup, Faisal's grunts snapped and began withdrawing, though for one of them it was too late as the BuCue drew an orange line across the GiNN's grey back with a paint-tipped fang, waiting for the other to get into missile range before firing. Saladin quickly abandoned his plan to shoot the other GiNN in the back once he heard the bombardment cease; Faisal's attention would be on him again now that he was no longer shooting at Kellian.

Missiles began raining down on the BuCue as it quickly wove an evasive path through the desert. Little by little, Saladin's suit was being turned a different color as the Petrie began actively pursuing. Realizing the futility of his strategy, Saladin quickly turned his suit to fire, but one of the BuCue's feet became caught on a rock, tripping it. A half-dozen missiles quickly closed in and burst, drenching Saladin.

"It looks like you are subordinate to me after all," Faisal broadcast smugly. "Now if you would be so kind as to board my ship, I have a small task for you."

"Before you do that," Kellian suddenly interjected. "I have you under my sights, sir, and by the designated rules of engagement, since I can destroy you before you can shoot me, I win."

The Petrie's sensor officer looked up from his post and swallowed. "He's right, Your Highness. We're in his sights."

The prince roared with disbelief, incredulous that his victory had been taken from his by some interloping commoner! He quickly gestured to the sensor officer and motioned for his personal guards.

"Throw his off the ship for his failure!" Faisal ordered. "I do not want to see him aboard again!"

The battleship's captain quickly stormed off of the bridge into his private chambers. He would seek consolation from his wives this evening as he lamented the chance to make Saladin kneel before him.

Outcome: Killian Fleischer wins
Faisal as-Sanusi: 1 Xp, Repairing 1
Saladin: 4 Xp, Repairing 2
Killian Fleischer: 6 Xp, Repairing 2