Raylan Howe, Ethan Clark, and Max Bogart fight Smugglers

Under those decks in a briefing room, Lieutenant Max Bogart paced in front of a large projection screen. Assembled before him, four Aries pilots goofed around, made jokes, talked about all the 'Japs' they were going to shoot down. Chief among them was Raylan Howe, bringing in his wingman for a lighthearted noogie, talking about how he'd leave his allies' kill counts in the dust. Silent just a few seats away, Ethan Clark stared bullet holes into the screen, his mouth sealed shut. He had hoped for more professionalism.

SMUGGLER'S RUN

"Alright, pilots! Enough of that, let's get started. Intelligence says we've got some smugglers running the coast in our district. Could be terrorists, could be spies, could just be all americans trying to make top dollar. Whoever they are, they've salvaged way too much military equipment to be pleasure cruisers. Your mission, and you will accept it, is to destroy an ammo cache intelligence has sighted at these coordinates. It's a cave just inside a lagoon. It is heavily defended by anti-aircraft guns, rocket equipped infantry, and mines. We have reports of mobile suits but no one's ever seen them. Anyone have any questions? No? Dismissed!"

Ethan Clark was the first one out, running with all the speed he could muster to the hangar bay. Chasing at his tail, Raylan Howe struggled to catch up, at pace with the rest of the wingmen.

"Leave some for the rest of us!" Howe yelled, as Clark jumped into his Aries first. Shaking his head, he entered his own. Multicolored lights turned on all around the cockpit. Switches were flipped. Meters came to live. As the monitors turned on, Howe saw Clark and his two wingman barrel out of the bay and into the air. The elevator lift was slow in bringing them up, making Howe clench his teeth.

"You think we might die?" Howe's lone wingman chirped out. Raylan's rage was building up, causing him to let loose a stream of obscenities to the rookie pilot. The two Aries took to the air, Clark's wing barely visible in front of them.

~

"Approaching coordinates. There are some fishing boats in the water, but nothing I.. wait. Anti-aircraft gun sighted on a cliff. It looks Japanese, maybe a Type 2. Engaging!"

Clark's Aries dived, opening up its chain gun on the target. The Type 2 20 mm AA Machine Cannon fired back with great power, sending empty shells bounding, covering the sky in flak - but it was no contest. The stream of bullets cut through the two seated gunners and turned them into mush. The Aries skirted the ground, sending a shockwave of wind over the infantry units. In the forests adjoining the cliff, a number of other anti-aircraft guns erupted. Clark's wingmen fired a series of missiles into the forest, shaking the ground with a great vibration and sending clouds of smoke into the air. The units curved up, tailed by a few remaining flak guns. Their units were minorly damaged, but nothing serious. On the ground, a fisherman walked into the bridge of his vessel, his straw hat bobbing in the high winds. He opened up a trap door, revealing a ladder.

The Jukon-class Goemon was the center of activity. Uniformed men ran around the submarine, taking in radio reports, writing them down and handing them to the captain. The man in the straw hat perused them, tipping his cap back. He read the report with a blase expression, folding it upon finishing and placing it into a desk. Atop it, a picture of Admiral Yamamoto was framed, and beside that a sheathed sword. This submarine unit had deserted the Japanese Navy for riches and glory. He wouldn't throw it away to the Americans without a fight.

"Wait for the second wave. Calculate their origin point. Load torpedo tubes. Launch mobile suits."

The engines of the Jukon-class started up, hidden by another outburst of Type 2 fire from the forest by the cliff. Underneath the Jukon, bays filled with water as the tell tale sound of mobile suit sensors activating could be heard. Walking down from the bridge, the man in the straw hat entered his personal hangar bay. A well maintained and polished Acguy towered before him.

~

"Ha ha! That's my third yet! How many you got Clark?" Howe bellowed.

"Grow up." Clark tersely responded, firing another array of missiles. The forests burned and men ran in all directions. The smugglers were retreating. Giant explosions revealed cache's catching flame, filling the sky with explosions and shrapnel. "Howe, I want you to check for that cave again. That's their headquarters."

Howe gritted his teeth, swearing under his breath. Clark was clearly just jealous of his kill count. Howe and his wingman skimmed over the harbor, rocking the waves beneath them. As they did, one of the fishing vessels started rising. The vessel exited the water, hovering in the air atop a massive Jukon. Howe's eyes were focused forward. "I've located the cave! Coordinates.."

"Howe! Behind us!"

The Aries whirled around, just dodging flying aerial missiles erupting out of the water. They hammered into the ground, sending up giant explosions. The Jukon reloaded, re-aimed, and fired again. The chainguns on the Aries fired on them, causing mid-air concussive explosions that scorched Howe's wingman and set his own unit on fire. "Shit! We're out of missiles! Clark, new target sighted, Jukon class! I'm heading back to the Catamaran for resupply."

"Roger. I'm out too. We'll keep them busy until you get back."

"It's a submarine Clark ho-"

"Go. Now!"

Clark's wing drew in close, the juxtaposed mobile suits firing a stream of chainguns into the submarine. It pinged nearly harmlessly off the armor, but distracted it enough to enable Howe and his wingman to exit.

~

Ten minutes later, Howe landed at the Catamaran. Clark's reports preceded him. The missiles were already on deck; all he had to do was land and the experts of the Catamaran were taking off units, adding new ones on. Before he knew it, flags were waving and the units were ready to launch. Until he first strike. A huge tearing sound resonated through the ship, throwing Lieutenant Bogart to the floor in the bridge. He struggled to get back on his feet.

"What the fuck was that?"

Howe was already in the air when the second strike hit. He rounded the Catamaran, and sure enough. Four amphibious mobile suits were firing beams into the starboard hull of the ship. Thankfully, for the size of the ship, a number of countermeasures were foiling them. Foam would erupt as the beams entered, compartments would close. Howe dived on the units, a maddening bloodlust in his eyes. His armament was meant to take out that giant submarine, but this would do just as well. The heavy torpedo dropped off the Aries and into the water, streaming a line of air bubbles before it found its home in the gullet of a Hygogg. The explosion was massive, sending a geyser of water into the air and tearing the target limb from limb.

The other mobile suits' heads popped out of the water, sending an array of beams into the air.

"Three Acguy types. Look like Japanese models. Intel doesn't have shit on them. Flags not visible, and the Japs always hold a parade, which makes them.." Three more torpedos dropped into the water. "PIRATES!"

The strawman smiled as the torpedo approached him. Would the Emperor be pround?

A massive explosion ended his saga.

~

"Base. This is Clark."

"Clark! We were ambushed! We're re-equipping as we speak, don't worry, we'll get those units out to you!" Lieutenant Bogart replied exasperatedly.

"Don't bother. We're done here. But send a supply vessel. You're not going to believe this."

The communication cut. One leg was perched on half of the beached Jukon. In the absence of weapons, the mobile suit team had gathered together and pushed the Jukon into the beach; wrecking more than a few piers but rolling it onto its side, effectively disabling it. The smugglers streamed out, holding white flags before them. But most interesting was what they were dropping in front of the Aries.

Armfuls of gold bars.

Outcome: American Union wins
Raylan Howe: 9 Xp, Repairing 3
Ethan Clark: 9 Xp, Repairing 3
Max Bogart: 6 Xp, Repairing 2
Derek Carter: 5 xp, Repairing 1 [I screwed up and didn't see his email. oops.]
-5,000 Credits to each; 100,000 Credits to the American Union.